Spring 2021 Contest Finalist

Existing In Double

Pretending by day, struggling by night

I was in the city for a conference. It was that optimistic time of the year between the end of winter and the beginning of spring. The days were longer. The flowers were blooming in the public gardens.

I spent my days watching lectures, drinking coffee, and talking to people. Whenever I had a break I would escape to a coffee shop where a bunch of cats roamed free. That place became small heaven to me. There, I could just spend time with a group of non-judgemental creatures.

At the end of the day, I would get on a bus and go to my hostel. And it was hell. I made it through my first night. The tiny room was empty and it was just me. The second time ended up being one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.

There were four people in a tiny room. I could listen to other people moving around in their beds (even with my earplugs), the room was too hot and when someone opened a window it was cold. I could hear the cars outside. I could hear people snoring in the room next door. I could hear the water running in the bathroom. My heart started pounding. I could hear my heartbeat in my head. I couldn’t sleep and everything around me was getting to me in a way that I usually try not to happen around other people. I wanted to cry, but not in front of these three strangers. I left the room and sat on a couch in the hall. I stayed there until morning, trying to calm myself down.

The next day, I made an excuse at the front desk and moved to the hotel right across the street. I got a phone call from the hostel asking why I gave them a good (but not great) review. I stayed silent. How was I supposed to say I couldn’t handle their hostel?

Nights were better at the hotel, of course. But I felt lonely and distressed. I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong with me. Why on earth couldn’t I cope with simple things like everyone else seemed to?

One year later, at that time of the year between the end of winter and the beginning of spring, an email arrived in my inbox. It was a report from my psychologist stating I had Autism spectrum disorder, level 1.

I read it several times to let it sink in. As it turns out I can’t actually do life like everyone else. At the conference, I was making a tremendous effort to make conversations. I was pretending to be someone I’m not. In short, I was masking. This is when autistic people conceal their difficulties to appear more normal. It’s exhausting. At the end of the day, I just wanted to be myself and recharge. I was overwhelmed which resulted in a meltdown.

I have a lot of different feelings about that report (anger, confusion, relief) but one thing I know for sure. There will be no hostels in my future. Thank God for that.