The Struggle of Being Seen

This space is a pretty special place. Nothing particularly aesthetically special – four to five walls in a basement of a church, a couple of soft seats, recently a selection of fossils arrived on the small table to the left, the table where there is always a bottle of water. No interior design awards will ever be won for this room, which is good, that’s not what it’s for. This room, this space, is where work happens. This space, this room, is completely detached from the illusionary effects of the “real world”. That “real world” doesn’t matter in this space. It means absolutely fuck all – it can be rejected and seen for what it really is while enjoying the soft ‘Ikea style’ furnishing and the free Costco spring water. You can stick your middle finger up and chuckle at the outside world and all that are in it because ultimately that’s what is happening to you – with your neurodivergent brain – while you navigate in the illusionary day to day operations.

In this special place you are seen, you are heard, you are compassionately enjoyed, and you are free to remove the mask. It’s like stepping into a soft, warm cabin out of the snow. The roaring fire welcomes you in and invites you to remove your super thick down puffer jacket, ethically sourced, of course. Like removing the jacket, the mask you wear everyday slips off and is hung up at the hard to open door. “That’s better” is the sub conscious thought. Then the brain continues thinking without you knowing “right, let’s get to work.”

Once you sit down and begin to enjoy the conversation the brain realises it’s safe. It’s got nothing that it needs to hide anymore. It’s detached and free from the bondage of what’s out there. The brain and you are being seen, for those 50 plus minutes the Self arrives. That true Self is something that can’t be expressed while navigating the bullshit of everyday – the endless suffering of ‘being late’ or being quiet because you’re trying to keep your emotions in check or taming your hyperactivity or making people uncomfortable because you blurt out ‘inappropriate’ words ruled by society and it’s wanky unwritten rules. The fear of being judged, cast off and chastised by everyone else because of their ability to misunderstand you, it all dissolves away with this conversation. You don’t need to feel scared here – and let it be known, it is the best feeling to be seen for who you really are. Two hours a month of complete judgement free, mask free conversation. Being seen for who you actually are.

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The conversation of being seen has been one that’s discussed often in this glorious judgement free space. Jungian synchronicity then plays its part as it often does when you’re open to the world around you. On this occasion it comes in the form of two recent TV shows. The BBC, in its own pro and anti-mental health irony, put out a two-part series called Inside Our Autistic Minds. The other show was aired on Channel 4 and was called The Piano. Two very different programmes, one a documentary of sorts and the other a reality show. Yet they both showed what it’s like to really be seen. The human beings in front of the camera unashamed in their moment. Inspiring in their message – “this is me, so fuck you deal with it.”

?Chris Packham, sorry, the Wonderful Chris Packham of Springwatch fame took us through a stripped back version – BBC style – of what it’s like in our autistic minds. Fucking shite is what it’s like, which is why it resonates with you. The four beautiful people on it, all in a different space in their recognised autism spectrum, reveal themselves to people they’ve never revealed themselves to before – one of them to their mum and only their mum! They talked about how their ability to be seen was hampered by the way they looked and acted, which often led to misunderstandings and being judged by others. It resonates and breaks the heart so much because of the shared experiences – imagine telling your parents what you’ve been diagnosed with and in a time when you’re looking for support and understanding all you receive is “no you’re not…but your brother has.”

The thing that struck the biggest of chords from Inside Our Autistic Minds is the idea of having a mask. Masking is widely recognised as a trait of a neurodivergent brain. The person suffering from needing to mask will mimic behaviours, social cues, hierarchical structure, language and even dialects and all for one single purpose; to fit in or appear ‘normal’. Well, there will be many reasons why one masks but ultimately for dramatic effect the single purpose of ‘being normal’ works better and helps you divs striving for ‘normal’ understand better. So, what is normal and where did all these made-up rules come from? Probably our parents, mates, teachers, and managers but you can decide which ones you want to ignore. Then, hopefully the more we start to ignore and create our own rules the more we’ll get to be our true Self, no masking needed.

The complex nature of sub consciously deciding to wear a mask in “the real world” does offer up some heart-breaking realisations. You will question yourself like “shit, who am I then?” or you will have been masking and mimicking for so long that you will genuinely believe what everyone else believes around you, “don’t mind him he’s just a bit rough round the edges, but he means well and is professional in his own way.” You will live out the illusion you’ve created for yourself, brought to the world in the form of ‘personality’, and then worst of all that becomes you and you don’t know what’s real or not. Bit of a mess that isn’t it? And all because you want to appear normal, so people don’t judge or hurt you.

That brings us back to the special place with the comforting fossils, free water and hard to open door. In here, where the mask sits on the coat hook flaccid in its limp uselessness, the beautifully perfect anecdotes offered will be building your confidence to maybe one day leaving it on that coat hook. On Inside Our Autistic Minds the people recognising their spectrum difficulties, also known as “the real world”, spoke about when they were able to remove their mask – in specific places of comfort around certain people or things that provided that comfort. From full time caring parents to trance electronic music and loving partners to hip hop in the most sound cancelling headphones you can buy. These places and objects of comfort shielding you from the hurt and judgement you usually face meaning in these moments you can connect to you and what it means to be the Self. The Piano – on Channel 4 – did this perfectly.

The Piano showcased amateur pianists knocking out some serious skills in a train station – you know the score. They knew the cameras were on them, but they didn’t know a couple of pretty famous pros were watching them behind closed doors. The concept is cool, by not knowing you’re not trying to impress – of course as a human performing, you’re trying your best – but it’s for the art, doing for doing’s sake – not because some prick is going to judge you. These ‘contestants’ just played. Some were self-taught – a way of coping through the ballache of the pandemic. Some of them used the piano as a comfort blanket that wrapped them away from grief, trauma, bereavement and everything else out there dashes at you. Some just played because they could. Two of them, who went on to play in a concert created by the pros, had brains with autism. If you do one thing off the back of this article you should google ‘The Piano Lucy’ and enjoy having your mind blown straight out the back of your head.

The most inspirational thing about Lucy on the show – and all the participants really – is that in that moment, playing that piano, in that place, that beautiful comforting space, they didn’t give a flying fuck about anything. Nothing. Lucy needs round the clock care for her to live her life – you could argue that it’s her amazing mother and Lucy’s piano teacher Daniel that take the load so Lucy can thrive – but when Lucy plays you can see that it’s all worth it. The judgement, the lack of opportunities, the “real world” blockages, the day-to-day suffering, all dissolved when those ivory keys are stroked. The natural talent and the hard work that is put in to make music accessible to everyone got the spotlight it deserved. They got to be seen for who they really are.??

The idea of being seen and finding comfort in spaces and with people and objects is complex, we’re all completely different but never alone. In this space where the fossils live and the water flows free like the judgement free conversation there is real comfort. Jayne, Dr Jayne will offer you anecdotes that relate to your daily suffering as part of the practice that means one day the mask hanging in the corner stays there forever. Showing all of Jayne’s clients what can be achieved when you go to work in this space. It’s a struggle and it hurts at times, but that’s okay, that’s part of it – out of suffering comes rewards. These rewards are the confidence you gain to express yourself – the true Self – without the fear of judgement or rejection. The rejection, for a neurodivergent brain, is the hardest thing to try and cope with and ultimately is why the mimicking is with us in the first place. There is always hope though, that’s what the TV shows give us, that’s what our comforting spaces give us, we can be hopeful that eventually we can show off without our masks – and if anybody doesn’t like it we can say “fuck you deal with it” and be confident in owning it.