Society is Wrong about Autistics and Empathy

It's a classic stereotype. The autistic person who simply does not feel any ounce of empathy. The autistic person who shrugs and walks away when someone tries to confide in them. But this is just a very surface-level reading of how autistic people experience empathy.

I think quite a lot of autistic people will agree with me when I say we experience empathy, and we experience it hard. Do we experience it differently? For sure, but do we experience it? Definitely. This whole idea of autistic people having no empathy couldn't be less true. At least for a lot of cases.

I'm not going to sit here and claim that there aren't some autistic people out there who maybe don't feel much empathy - it's a spectrum after all. However, I think this widespread idea of autistic people not feeling empathy simply comes from the fact that we more often struggle to express empathy.

I have memories of being a child, seeing other kids cry around me, and feeling this unshakeably intense feeling of awkwardness and cringe. I just did not know what to do. I knew logically what I should do, at least in a broad sense. I knew I should try and comfort them, show empathy. But I don't know how to do that. I mean, different people respond differently to different forms of sympathy, right? So how am I supposed to know which one to use with which people? Who prefers a pat on the back, who prefers hugs, who prefers a "it'll be ok", who prefers an attempt at solving the problem at hand, who prefers to simply be left alone?

I never know what to do in situations where people around me are upset. I would hate to make things worse by doing or saying the wrong thing. So I guess for my brain, it's easier to just shut down and run away than actually show any empathy to people.

Even with people I'm close to, who I should know how to help, I still just cannot bring myself to show any empathy towards them. Even with my own family, my brain shuts down. Quite literally. I start zoning out, I lose any ability in verbal communication, and my body screams out in intense need to elope and run away.

I know sometimes that people who are family to autistic people can feel like their autistic relative doesn't care about them, or doesn't really know them or connect with them, but I think it's just this. It's just that we really struggle to show empathy sometimes. And to neurotypicals, this can make it look like we don't love them. But we do. We do so much, that when they need us most, our brains explode with information overload and we shut down.

There have been times when I have quite literally ran away. A particular story comes to mind, which I won't go into detail about because it could be potentially triggering, and it's not a fun memory, but it was one of these situations where, where other people would have run towards them and shown heaps of empathy, doing everything they can to make it better for them, I simply turned heel and ran. I could not handle it, so my brain just said "Nope" and I ran away.

Luckily there was someone else there to step in and do the empathy for me so I wasn't just abandoning someone in need, but I was still the one who ran away in that situation, and it only made things more complicated for everyone. I don't think I really did anything right in that situation.

I think this is honestly one of the hardest parts of being autistic. It makes me wonder if I'll ever be capable of a lasting healthy relationship if I cannot show basic empathy to the people I care about. Even if they know that I struggle, what if the one time they need me the most, I can't give it to them? I shut down instead, and then they're left to struggle alone, while I struggle in a separate corner of the house. I can't help them, no matter how much I want to, and that can be really painful to deal with. I don't want them to be tasked with helping me out of a shutdown all because they were struggling. I don't want them to have to separate themselves from their struggle and push it aside for me.

I want to help them, but I just. Can't.

I wish I could describe how it felt, so neurotypicals could get even the slightest taste of what it's like, but it's an impossible feeling to describe. I. Just. Can't.

If you know any autistic people, just know that we care. We might not show it in the same way, we might struggle to show it in any way, but we do care. I promise.

Anyway, this was just something that was on my mind this evening that I wanted to get out, so I've quickly typed out this blog post. I need to head up to bed now.

Look out for future posts from me - I may have a somewhat exciting announcement in the nearish future. 👀