Neurodivergent Trauma Responses: Is There Help?

Trauma in adults is often addressed through counseling or various therapeutic approaches. However, in day-to-day life, trauma can be continually exacerbated by the responses of our peers and community. This post focuses on trauma in neurodivergent adults, although some of the advice may also be beneficial for non-autistics. Drawing from personal experiences, I want to show how trauma can manifest daily through work, school, interactions with friends, family, and the world around us. Trauma is a deeply personal experience, so while my experiences may not align with those of other autistic adults with trauma, the guidance provided is designed to resonate with those who can relate to these experiences.

My Story of Trauma

My journey with trauma began even before I was born. My mother had a relatively uncomplicated pregnancy, but doctors warned her that her child might have "intellectual issues." Undeterred, she claimed that God would bless her with a healthy baby boy who would grow up to change the world. I arrived a month early and my parents did their best raising a "pre-me" (I guess that's what pre-mature babies are called). My parents did all that they could, but early parenting imperfections naturally create traumas that shaped my sensitivity to environmental stressors. Somehow, these eventually became the blueprint for my future development.

Growing up, I experienced significant community trauma. I've gone through a lot of verbal and spiritual abuse as a child and not just from people who I thought were supposed to make me feel safe. I was called names and more spiritual adults, than I can count on both hands, attempted to cast demons out of me. This rejection was devastating to my young, autistic mind, and I internalized so many religious peoples' perceptions of my autistic behavior and reactions very negatively. I became angry with my parents for being born into a corrupt system and city and eventually decided that I did not want children due to how unsafe I felt as a child.

It wasn't all bad though. I have relatives who are more supportive of who I am. My grandfather took me ice skating, and my grandmother encouraged my sound design habits. However, so much of my community's reactions of my aspirations caused anxiety and multiple identity crisis'. For some odd reason, I wanted to become a full-time new apostolic reformation minister and Christian rapper, which my Christian parents supported, but other people close to me pushed for a STEM career. This conflict left me feeling disconnected from my family and distrustful of the nuclear family concept.

From ages five to fifteen, I endured bullying from both peers and teachers in both private and public schools. The bullying from children included name-calling, physical assault, theft, property damage (mostly towards bicylces I had), deceit, and trickery. Teachers tried to place me in special education at age seven despite my good grades, leading to isolation, suspensions, and verbal abuse. When I reported the bullying, teachers told me to "toughen up" or at best, they would tell me bullying never goes away. By age thirteen, my life goal became proving my worth to everyone.

Trauma also came in the form of conspiracy theories, which were prevalent in my childhood and teenage years, thanks to churches I've been to. My literal thinking, combined with my pursuit of religious experiences, led to a distortion of reality, separation from peers, extreme anxiety, and difficulty finding and keeping a job. Eventually, my religious deconstruction and constant questioning of western values, colonialism, and exceptionalism led me to become an agnostic and develop a strong aversion to high-control religion and self-help movements.

Trauma and Social Interactions

As an adult, my development has been heavily influenced by trauma responses and autistic traits such as rejection sensitivity, literal thinking, and difficulty communicating. My trauma responses are complex, involving fight, flight, and fawn responses simultaneously. The trauma I experienced in childhood has evolved into people-pleasing, insecurity in friendships, low self-esteem, masking traits, and a constant need for praise to believe I am liked. Moments of silence cause anxiety, as do fears of making friends, authority, mistakes, and the future. I often take world events too literally and have a negative view of the world, grieving my childhood years.

My day-to-day life now involves job hunting, immersing myself in my computer, and interacting with a few friends through social media. When I do have a job, work becomes a significant trigger. If I make a mistake or misinterpret someone's tone as harsh or critical, I become extremely distressed, withdrawn, and self-critical. My thought process during these moments is cyclical and self-defeating, with echoes of past traumas replaying in my mind. Instant self-regulation is crucial, but as an adult, I often only have time to regulate an hour before bed or early in the morning. Communicating this need to peers is extremely difficult when trauma responses are triggered, and I am dysregulated. After losing my last job, my doctor put me on amitriptyline to regulate my anxiety (it's not working).

Trauma and Friendships

Friendships have become increasingly challenging as I've gotten older. Many of my ex-friends have embraced a reality centered around "American Jesus manifested privilege," and I often isolate myself from them due to the complexity of these relationships. Even with my closest friends, who are Christians, I struggle to discuss my experiences verbally. Long periods of silence trigger echoes of feeling ignored and alone, and I struggle with indirect communication, often misinterpreting one-word answers as indifference.

Social media adds another layer of complexity, as tone and facial expressions are absent, leading to constant replaying of bad experiences in my head. Autism intensifies these thoughts and feelings, and as I age, it takes longer for me to regulate and see different perspectives. My concept of friendship remains literal and unchanging, akin to playground friendships, which is a result of my autism.

Therapy (along with amitriptyline), designed for non-autistic minds, has not been effective for me. It is sporadic and not long-lasting, failing to address the weekly triggers I face. I believe much of my trauma stems from my religious upbringing and capitalism, and I want to see a change in how autistic peers respond to those with trauma, particularly autistics with complex trauma. The relationship between trauma survivors and their colleagues, friends, and family must evolve to reflect the reality of experiences, not what the system says.

How Colleagues Can Be Supportive

In the workplace, autistics often face extreme busyness and stress, even in seemingly easy jobs. Phrases like "we'll get to it later" or "we're all in the same boat" are not helpful when dealing with instant trauma responses. Autistics do not think the same way as non-autistics, and our responses, though disproportionate to others, are very real to us. Common thought processes for autistics include equating mistakes with failure, shouting with dislike, and stressful days with incompetence.

To support autistics in their lives, peers must understand our thought processes during different events. People have to know when we will be triggered, and be prepared to help us through triggering situations as soon as possible. Reassurance must be clear and specific, addressing negative self-talk directly. In workplaces, end-of-day debriefs, including discussing feelings and ending on a positive note, can be beneficial. This restorative work, often used for autistic children, is rarely applied to adults, despite its potential to ease the effects of trauma.

How Friends Can Be Supportive

As adults, friendship dynamics change, but for autistics, this evolution often doesn't happen. Friends need to understand that trauma responses are a daily occurrence and respond accordingly, rather than treating autistics like non-autistics or friends who have found ways to try hiding their trauma. Communicating busy periods and the reasons for silence is crucial, as autistics may interpret unresponded messages as ignorance or rejection.

Appropriate communication is key. Quick phrases like "sending love" do not convey meaningful information to autistics. Instead, specific plans and expressions of missing the friend are more helpful. Understanding that autistics show love differently, often in a needier and more constant manner, is also important. Phrases must be carefully chosen to avoid triggering rejection sensitivity and past traumas.

Invitations, for example, should be clear and heartfelt, leaving no room for misinterpretation. The key to surviving this reality is for peers to understand us individually, as we do not think or react like everyone else. Patience, time, and kindness are invaluable, as we will deal with trauma for the rest of our lives.

Trauma is a complex and deeply personal experience, especially for neurodivergent individuals.

By understanding the origins of trauma, its impact on social interactions, and the unique challenges faced by autistics in the workplace and friendships, society can begin to create more supportive and inclusive environments. Peers, colleagues, and friends play a crucial role in this process, and their understanding and adaptability can significantly improve the quality of life for those living with trauma.