I'm the office jerk.

Author's note: the following article contains mentions of suicide.

"Am I the office jerk?" This subject line was at the top of my inbox today. It wasn't the first time an email had taken my breath away. The fact that all it took was the subject line to knock me off my game was impressive. I understand marketers' pressure to write something eye-catching, attention-grabbing, and click-baiting. But emails shouting "Firing Toxic Employees," "My coworker is rude," or "How to work with people you hate" devastate me. Why? Just seeing them forces me to re-live some of my worst moments: every employee review I've ever had where my autistic or ADHD communication style has been misinterpreted as angry, rude, mean, condescending, defensive, or toxic. In other words, I have never needed an outside opinion about my possible identity as "the office jerk".

I struggled to figure out how or why this kept happening for years. I never felt any of those emotions that people put on me-?at first. I bent over backward to plaster a smile on my face and force "nice" out of every pore. What I didn't know is that I was desperately trying to change how my brain worked and act like I had the brain and body of someone else. It was impossible to keep up. Wearing that mask is not a permanent solution. Eventually, I would "crack," and suddenly, I would become those horrible labels. I would be demotivated, negative, and condescending because I had pushed my brain, body, and spirit past the absolute limit. I was in anguish, trying to keep everyone from thinking I was any of those terrible things. Those terrible things I never felt made me a terrible person anyway. A worthless person. A monster.

The suicide rate for autistics is three times higher than the rest of the population. ADHDers are statistically more likely to die by suicide than neurotypicals at almost all ages up until age 60.?

People will say, "Stop being so dramatic." "No one kills themselves over a SPAM email" or "You are way too sensitive."?

Others will say, "We all have different personalities at work" or "Our perceptions are always worse than the reality." If we are lucky, it's "I'm sorry you've felt that way."

Others will fully understand the struggle to get people to see that you ARE a good person and that you DON'T think or feel what they are accusing you of. They will know what a lifetime of that can do. It's like being in a Twilight Zone episode where you're speaking the same language as everyone around you, but not a single person understands. Eventually, you begin to believe the horrible things people say. Why wouldn't you? How can you discount years or decades of employers who state these things as facts? (This doesn't even begin to touch the struggles of those with intellectual or physical impairments that keep them out of the workplace altogether or their parents or caregivers.) For many of us, extreme burnout is the best scenario we can hope for.

Neurodivergents diagnosed as children experience stigma that can follow them their whole lives. Those of us diagnosed as adults will at least get some explanation for how these things happened. None of that erases the pain of the experience.

In my opinion, people who are undiagnosed or have atypical personalities in the workplace have it the worst. They never get an explanation for the judgment, prejudice, or criticism. They will continue to strive for the unattainable. They may give up. Many never even get the chance to try. We can only guess what the statistics would tell us about their lives.?

I was diagnosed in my late 30's. Before that, I had endured my mother telling me she was scared of me. I watched new friend after new friend abruptly choose to go back to being strangers. I was undeniably intelligent, which made my constant screwups unbearable. I said and did the wrong things, and instead of fixing anything, I always made it worse. Every time I failed, I berated myself, not only for the failure but for actually believing that things could be OK.

I didn't need to ask an advice columnist if I was the office jerk – I knew for sure. And nothing I tried to fix it worked.

When I see or hear anything about employees that are toxic, rude, negative, condescending, overbearing, weird – or are the "office jerk," I immediately think, "that's a suffering neurodivergent." Even as someone who loves being correct, I am devastated by how often my assessment is accurate.

Since my diagnosis, I have learned to lean on my strengths. I try to avoid fighting the things about myself I cannot change. In many ways, it's working: I have my dream job in a field I love. I've used my knowledge and experience to help as many people as possible. I am, by many measures, a success. But the weight of those experiences doesn't disappear. There is a staggering amount of work to do before neurodivergents receive meaningful understanding or acceptance. Many other fantastic advocates and I are doing everything we possibly can.

Until then, the best I can do is unsubscribe.

If you or a loved one are struggling, please get help: https://www.iasp.info/crisis-centres-helplines/

Articles referenced:

https://www.healthline.com/health-news/rate-of-suicide-3-times-higher-for-autistic-people

https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciadv.aba1551#abstract