You've probably guessed by now, but to be clear: I’m on the autistic spectrum. That fact, simple on the surface, shapes a huge amount of how I experience the world and interact with the people around me. It’s not always obvious from the outside, but there’s a whole internal process running constantly that most people never see.

One of the biggest challenges I face is understanding tone, both yours and mine. When people speak to me, I don’t always pick up on whether they’re being kind, sarcastic, joking, or angry. And just as often, I can’t tell how I sound to you. Am I being too blunt? Too quiet? Too intense? I don’t always know, even if I’m trying hard to get it right.

Social situations aren’t intuitive for me. I can’t just “read the room” and respond naturally. Every interaction is like solving a small puzzle. I go through a mental checklist that looks something like this:

“Okay, this feels a bit like that situation last week… What did I do then? Did that work? Did I upset someone? Okay, so maybe this time I should try this instead.”

It’s a constant comparison game. Trial and error. I get it right maybe half the time. And doing that kind of mental math for every single social moment? It’s exhausting. Like mentally sprinting through your day while pretending everything’s fine on the outside.

So yeah, I get tired. A lot. And when I’m really tired, or stressed, or when too many people are asking things of me at once and I can’t process it all fast enough, something changes. The best way I can describe it is this: I feel like a cornered rat. Trapped, overwhelmed, and panicked. My brain goes into overdrive and I push back - hard.

That moment? It’s not personal. It’s not about you. It’s about survival. It’s my fight-or-flight instinct being triggered so fast and so intensely that there’s no time to think, just react.

I’m working on it. I’m trying to slow that moment down, to recognize it sooner, to be kinder to myself and others in the process. But if I’m being totally honest, it’s kinda scary. Living in a brain that feels like it’s running on high-alert most of the time takes a toll.

I don’t share this for sympathy. I share it for understanding. If you’ve ever felt confused by how I respond, or surprised by how I act, I hope this gives you some insight. I’m doing the best I can with the brain I’ve got. And I’m learning, every single day, how to live more gently with it.