Embracing Neurodiversity: An AuDHD Therapist’s Journey to Understanding and Advocacy

A Personal Awakening

My path to becoming a therapist was driven by a lifelong quest to understand myself, a journey that led to the discovery that I am autistic and have ADHD (AuDHD). This revelation came not through the clinicians I sought help from at the Veterans Affairs (VA) but through seeing myself in my daughter’s struggles: her difficulty making friends, reluctance to smile in social settings, and need for solitude to recharge. These traits echoed my own experiences, growing up feeling like an outsider, grappling with friendships and dating, and turning to alcohol and drugs to feel normal. I battled severe depression, was labeled a troublemaker in school and work, and faced constant misinterpretations of my directness as rudeness. My family’s quiet reserve, minimal eye contact, and my great-grandfather’s love for trains hinted at a neurodivergent thread running through us, unnoticed by the professionals around me.

The mental health field, where I’ve spent years as a therapist, failed me. Clinicians at the VA dismissed my suspicions of autism and ADHD with comments like “You don’t seem autistic” or “You’re just stressed,” delaying my self-understanding and my ability to support my daughter. This medical gaslighting reflects a broader ignorance in mental health care, where neurodivergence is often overlooked or misunderstood. This blog post is a call to reframe autism and ADHD as natural variations of human cognition, deserving of acceptance and accommodation. Through my story, insights from autistic communities, and a practical screening tool, I aim to empower autistic individuals, educate clinicians, and advocate for a world where neurodivergent voices are heard and valued.The

Neurodiversity Paradigm: A New Lens

The neurodiversity paradigm, introduced by Judy Singer in 1998, views autism, ADHD, and other neurological variations as natural, valuable aspects of human diversity, not disorders to be fixed. For me, discovering my AuDHD identity was like finding a missing piece of the puzzle; suddenly, my struggles with social norms, sensory overwhelm, and isolation made sense. Autism is not a linear spectrum of severity but a rich tapestry of unique experiences, a different operating system shaping how we perceive and interact with the world. This perspective, echoed in online autistic communities on X and Reddit, shifts the focus from normalization to acceptance, urging society to adapt to neurodivergent needs rather than demanding conformity.

Yet, societal ableism persists. Many autistic individuals, myself included, feel inherently hated for our differences, facing scrutiny for natural expressions like stimming or directness. My daughter’s social struggles and my own isolation reflect this, as neurotypical norms in schools, workplaces, and public spaces often exclude us. Clinicians must move beyond deficit-based models, embracing neurodiversity to support authentic flourishing.

Identity and Self Discovery:

Discovering my AuDHD identity in adulthood was bittersweet. Like many late-diagnosed individuals, I spent years feeling somehow different, a sentiment shared in online forums. My daughter’s traits, preferring solitude, avoiding smiles, mirrored my own, prompting a reevaluation of my life. This process was emotionally exhausting, with memories of social rejection and being labeled a troublemaker resurfacing as signs of my neurodivergence. Many narratives highlight this transition period, where past odd looks or comments are clocked as responses to autistic traits.

Self-diagnosis, validated by autistic communities, is a powerful tool when formal diagnosis is inaccessible (costing $1000 or more). Many, like me, faced dismissal from VA clinicians, reinforcing the belief that an autistic person can identify another better than a doctor. Masking, suppressing autistic traits to appear neurotypical, was my survival strategy, but it led to burnout, depression, and health issues like chronic pain. Unmasking is liberating yet challenging, especially with family who may not understand. Clinicians must support this journey, validating self-identification and using identity-first language (autistic person) to honor autism as integral to identity.

Communication: Bridging the Gap

Communication for autistic individuals often differs from neurotypical norms, leading to misunderstandings. My directness was mistaken for rudeness, a pattern my daughter also faces. Online posts describe the urgency of autistic communication, thoughts come like lightning, and if I don’t say them, they’re gone, and the exhaustion of navigating social cues. The double empathy problem explains this: breakdowns occur due to mutual miscommunication between neurotypes, not an autistic deficit. Autistic individuals connect well with each other, but neurotypical expectations, like keeping the peace, can clash with our need for honesty, as I experienced with death glares for speaking my truth.Clinicians should use clear, literal language, offer written instructions, and respect communication preferences (e.g., face-to-face vs. texting). My daughter and I both struggle with feeling overlooked in groups, a common autistic experience. Supporting autistic communication means fostering mutual understanding, not forcing neurotypical conformity.

The Diagnostic Process: A Call for Change

My experience with VA clinicians highlights the flaws in autism diagnosis, especially for adults. Traditional tools, based on male presentations, miss high-masking individuals like me, leading to misdiagnoses (e.g., depression) and ineffective treatments. The cost of formal diagnosis and clinician dismissal, I don’t see it, delayed my self-understanding, preventing early support for my daughter. Other people on the spectrum stress the value of diagnosis for self-advocacy and community, but barriers like cost and bias persist. A neurodivergent-affirming assessment focuses on strengths, considers co-occurring conditions (e.g., ADHD, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome), and recognizes masking’s toll. Clinicians must listen to patients, validate self-diagnosis, and advocate for accessible diagnostics, ensuring no one is left unseen as I was.

Sensory Realities: A Core Challenge

Sensory processing differences define much of my AuDHD experience. Loud noises or certain textures overwhelm me, as they do my daughter, who needs quiet to recharge. Many stories describe sensory overload as debilitating, even my bedsheets feel like too much. Chronic stress from masking exacerbates these sensitivities, contributing to health issues like fatigue and headaches. Clinicians must create sensory-friendly environments, dim lighting, noise-canceling options, scent-free spaces, to reduce distress and support engagement.

Executive Function and Burnout

My cycle of pushing until crashing, common among autistic individuals, led to burnout, intense exhaustion lasting months, worsened by masking and sensory overload. Lost skills and heightened sensitivities often happen during burnout. My daughter’s need for recharge time reflects similar energy management challenges. Clinicians should support pacing, structured routines, and flexible work arrangements, recognizing burnout’s unique etiology and tailoring recovery strategies.

Mental Health: Beyond the Label

My depression and substance use were fueled by living in an unaccommodating world, not just my AuDHD. Traditional therapies like CBT fail autistic individuals, who may intellectualize emotions. VA therapists treated me like a neurotypical, exacerbating my sense of failure. Neurodivergent-affirming approaches, like somatic therapy and trauma-informed care, validate emotional responses and recognize stimming as vital for regulation. Agoraphobia, driven by fear of public scrutiny, is a real risk, as I’ve felt the weight of being under radars that don’t see you humanely.

Relationships: Seeking Connection

My struggles with friendships and dating, mirrored by my daughter, stem from the double empathy problem and neurotypical social dynamics, which often feel manipulative. It is exhausting navigating social rules and the fear of being too pushy. Validation from family and clinicians is crucial, especially for children, to foster healthy relationships. Supporting autistic individuals means teaching self-advocacy and mutual understanding, not masking.

Advocacy and Allyship

As a therapist, I’ve seen the mental health field’s ignorance firsthand. Clinicians must advocate for autistic clients, challenging workplace discrimination (e.g., being fired for stimming) and systemic ableism. It's not uncommon for stories highlight employment barriers, with only 14% of autistic adults employed. Accommodations like clear instructions, sensory-friendly workspaces, and flexible hours are essential. True change requires dismantling societal biases, as therapy alone cannot fix systemic issues like capitalism or neurotypical norms.

Intersectionality: Diverse Experiences

My AuDHD experience is shaped by my identity as a therapist and parent, but others face additional barriers. Women, people of color, and LGBTQ+ autistic individuals face misdiagnosis or bias. Clinicians must adopt intersectional approaches, addressing cultural, racial, and socioeconomic factors to ensure equitable care.

Parenting as an Autistic Individual

As an autistic parent, I understand my daughter’s need for solitude and sensory regulation, but parenting’s sensory and executive demands are intense. Online communities share strategies like sensory breaks and co-regulation to manage these challenges. My strengths, empathy, authenticity, help me foster a home where my daughter feels validated. Clinicians should support autistic parents with tailored tools and family education.

Technology and Community

Online communities on X and Reddit have been my lifeline, offering validation and strategies where clinicians failed. Apps for task management and sensory regulation, like noise-canceling headphones, help me cope. Clinicians can integrate these tools, recommending autistic-led forums and virtual therapy to reduce barriers.

Lifelong Growth

My journey of unmasking continues, as I learn to embrace my AuDHD identity. Many stories inspire hope, autistic individuals turning passions into careers, advocating for change. Clinicians should support this growth with strengths-based interventions, helping clients navigate life transitions with resilience and self-compassion. Experiential Autism Trait Screener (EATS)To aid self-reflection, I developed the EATS, a tool to identify autistic traits based on lived experiences.

1. Experiential Autism Trait Screener (EATS)

   Disclaimer: This tool is designed for self-reflection to identify patterns commonly reported by autistic individuals. It is not a diagnostic tool and cannot replace a professional assessment. If you are seeking a diagnosis, please consult a qualified clinician experienced in neurodiversity-affirming practices. For individuals with a history of masking, some questions may be challenging to answer. Reflect on your internal experiences, not just outward behaviors you may have adopted to fit in.

   
   

2. Instructions: Read each statement carefully and select the option that best describes your experience. There are no right or wrong answers; answer as honestly as possible. Use the scale: Never (0) / Rarely (1) / Sometimes (2) / Often (3) / Always (4).

   
   

   Sections & Questions

   Section 1: Sensory Experiences

   Focus: How you process and react to sensory input (sight, sound, touch, taste, smell, proprioception, interoception).

   • I feel overwhelmed or distressed by certain sounds (e.g., loud noises, specific frequencies, overlapping conversations).

   • Certain textures (e.g., clothing, food, objects) feel intensely uncomfortable or irritating to me.

   • I notice subtle details in my environment that others seem to miss (e.g., faint sounds, visual patterns, specific smells).

   • I seek out specific sensory inputs for comfort or regulation (e.g., deep pressure, repetitive movements, specific sounds or visuals).

   • Everyday environments (e.g., crowded places, bright lights) often leave me feeling overwhelmed or exhausted.

   • I struggle to identify internal bodily sensations, like hunger, thirst, or fatigue, until they become extreme.

   • Certain smells (e.g., perfumes, cleaning products) feel overwhelming or make it hard for me to focus.

   • I feel physically uncomfortable or disoriented in environments with flickering lights or visual clutter.

   • I rely on specific sensory tools (e.g., fidget toys, weighted blankets) to feel calm or grounded.

   Section 2: Communication & Social Interaction

   Focus: Your natural communication style, social energy, and navigation of social situations.

   • I find it challenging to understand unspoken social rules or expectations.

   • I prefer direct, literal communication and can be confused by sarcasm, metaphors, or subtle hints.

   • After prolonged social interactions, I feel mentally exhausted and need significant time alone to recover.

   • I struggle to initiate or maintain small talk, preferring deeper, more focused conversations.

   • I don’t always make eye contact, but this doesn’t mean I’m not listening or engaged.

   • I feel alone or disconnected in a crowd of people.

   • I feel like people overlook me or act as if I’m not there during group conversations.

   • People give me odd looks after I speak, but I’m unsure what I said to upset them.

   • Others often think I don’t understand the context of what they’re saying, even when I do.

   • I misjudge body language or social cues, leading to misunderstandings.

   • I rehearse or script conversations in advance (e.g., in the shower, before meetings) to feel prepared.

   • I consciously adjust my facial expressions or body language to avoid seeming disinterested.

   • I find it hard to smile naturally during conversations, even when I’m engaged or happy.

   • I feel I have to over-explain myself to be understood in conversations.

   • I often need more information than is provided to fully understand instructions or situations.

   • I feel very sensitive to rejection or criticism, even if it’s minor.

   • I get overly anxious before or after social interactions, replaying them in my mind.

   • People tell me I don’t “look” or “seem” autistic because I’m skilled at social interactions.

   • I find typical social interactions with non-autistic people confusing, draining, or based on dynamics I don’t understand or agree with.

   • I prefer socializing with other neurodivergent individuals who share similar communication styles.

   • I feel frustrated when non-autistic people seem unwilling to understand or accommodate my perspective.

   • I sometimes go mute or struggle to speak in stressful or overwhelming situations.

   • I find it hard to differentiate between friendliness and flirting, leading to confusion in relationships.

   • I prefer written or electronic communication (e.g., texting, email) over face-to-face interactions because it feels clearer or less pressured.

   Section 3: Interests & Routines

   Focus: Your relationship with special interests, routines, and patterns.

   • I have one or more intense, focused interests that I can spend hours exploring or learning about.

   • Unexpected changes to my routine or plans cause significant distress or anxiety.

   • I enjoy organizing information or objects into categories, patterns, or systems.

   • I engage in repetitive movements or sounds (e.g., rocking, hand flapping, humming) when excited, stressed, or focusing.

   • I get a song or phrase stuck in my head for days or weeks at a time.

   • I feel a strong need for predictability or control in my daily routines to feel calm.

   • My special interests provide a sense of joy, purpose, or escape from stress.

   • I feel distressed or disoriented when my environment or possessions are rearranged without warning.

   Section 4: Thinking & Processing Style

   Focus: How you think, learn, and manage tasks.

   • I think in a very logical, systematic, or visual way.

   • I can become deeply absorbed in a task, losing track of time or my surroundings (hyperfocus).

   • I find it difficult to start tasks, even ones I want to do, or to switch between tasks.

   • I need more time to process information or formulate responses in conversations.

   • I feel like my brain works fundamentally differently from most people, like a “different operating system.”

   • I can often recognize autistic traits in others more easily than non-autistic individuals or some professionals.

   • Since learning about autism, I find myself re-evaluating past experiences or interactions through a new lens.

   • I have memories of people giving me “weird looks” or making “odd comments” that I now understand differently.

   • I feel like an outsider or “alien” in social or cultural settings, even among familiar people.

   • I struggle with tasks that require multitasking or rapid shifts in attention.

   • I experience clumsiness or coordination difficulties that feel disproportionate to my abilities.

   • I resist being told what to do unless the reasoning is clear or aligns with my values.

   Section 5: Emotional Regulation & Energy

   Focus: How you experience and manage emotions and energy levels.

   • I experience intense emotional responses that feel overwhelming, even to minor stressors.

   • I have experienced “autistic burnout,” a state of intense exhaustion and reduced capacity due to chronic stress or masking.

   • I often feel misunderstood or that my intentions are misinterpreted by others.

   • I get irrationally angry or upset in situations that others seem to handle easily.

   • I have used substances (e.g., alcohol, cannabis) to feel more comfortable in social situations or to regulate emotions.

   • I experience chronic physical health issues (e.g., pain, digestive issues, autoimmune conditions) that I suspect are related to masking or stress.

   • I find it difficult to “feel” or process emotions, often intellectualizing them instead.

   • Traditional talk therapies (e.g., CBT) have felt ineffective for managing my emotions.

   • My emotional responses have been described as “overdramatic” or “overly sensitive” by others.

   • I worry that others perceive my emotional responses as manipulative or disingenuous.

   • Non-traditional methods or tools (e.g., AI chatbots, apps, journaling) have been more helpful for emotional regulation than therapy.

   • I feel a sense of grief or loss for the life I expected to have before understanding my neurotype.

   • Re-evaluating my past feels emotionally exhausting or draining.

   • I experience recurring dreams or intrusive thoughts about past painful memories since realizing I might be autistic.

   • I find it difficult to stay “present” when old memories or feelings related to my neurotype resurface.

   • I feel physically or emotionally drained after routine tasks that others seem to manage easily.

   • I rely on specific rituals or coping mechanisms (e.g., stimming, routines) to manage emotional overwhelm.

   • I experience shutdowns or meltdowns when overwhelmed, where I withdraw or lose control of my emotions.

   Section 6: Work & Daily Functioning

   Focus: How your traits manifest in professional or daily life.

   • I feel like I’m seen as a troublemaker at work, even though I’m often the hardest worker.

   • I struggle to meet workplace expectations due to sensory overload or social demands, despite my skills.

   • I’ve faced workplace discrimination or misunderstandings due to my communication style or behaviors (e.g., stimming).

   • I find unstructured or unpredictable work environments overwhelming or difficult to navigate.

   • I’ve had to reduce work hours or apply for disability due to burnout or health issues.

   Section 7: Diagnosis & Healthcare Experience

   Focus: Your experiences with seeking diagnosis and interacting with healthcare professionals.

   • I’ve been diagnosed with other conditions (e.g., anxiety, depression, bipolar) and found treatments/medications ineffective or harmful.

   • When I suggested I might be autistic to a clinician, my concerns were dismissed or scoffed at.

   • I’ve felt the need to “perform” or manage a clinician’s perception of me to receive appropriate care.

   • I feel that the cost and process of formal diagnosis don’t always reflect the value or understanding gained from it.

   • I’ve experienced medical gaslighting, where my symptoms or concerns were minimized or ignored.

   • I’ve found more validation or understanding from autistic communities than from healthcare professionals.

   • I’ve struggled to access a diagnosis due to financial, logistical, or systemic barriers.

   
   
   
   

   Scoring & Interpretation

   Scoring: Assign numerical values to responses: Never = 0, Rarely = 1, Sometimes = 2, Often = 3, Always = 4. Calculate a total score by summing the values across all sections. Additionally, calculate subscale scores for each section (e.g., Sensory Experiences, Communication & Social Interaction) to identify specific areas of resonance.

   Interpretation:

   • High Scores (frequent “Often” or “Always” responses): “Your responses indicate a strong presence of traits commonly associated with autism, particularly in [list sections with highest scores, e.g., Sensory Experiences, Emotional Regulation]. These patterns suggest that exploring your neurotype further could provide valuable insights.”

   • Moderate Scores: “Your responses suggest some traits commonly associated with autism, particularly in [list sections]. Reflecting on these patterns may help you understand your experiences and needs.”

   • Low Scores: “Your responses indicate fewer traits commonly associated with autism. However, if you’re exploring your neurotype, consider how masking or environmental factors might influence your answers.”

   Next Steps:

   • Reflect on your responses and consider journaling about how these traits impact your life.

   • Connect with autistic communities (e.g., Autistic Self Advocacy Network, online forums) for peer support and validation.

   • If these patterns resonate and impact your well-being, consider consulting a neurodiversity-affirming clinician for further exploration.

   • Revisit the tool periodically, as self-awareness and unmasking may change how you respond over time.

   Disclaimer (Reiterated): This tool is not a diagnostic instrument. It is designed to foster self-understanding and guide you toward resources or professional support if needed. Only a qualified clinician can provide a formal diagnosis.

   

   Rick Rodgers is a Neurodivergent therapist specializing in Adult Autism, ADHD, PTSD, and narcissist abuse recovery. He enjoys yoga, his pets, Metal Gear Solid, and the X-Men