I've said a lot in previous blog articles about the problems of being a counselling student with autism. But are there any advantages? In a conference the other day, I asked a question from the floor about training as a counsellor when you have autism. One of the organisers whispered to me, as she passed me the mike, 'Autism is your superpower!'
Sometimes, the difficulties of my ambition almost overwhelm me. In order to qualify as a counsellor, I need to succeed in the most difficult environment for me: in groups, with lots of distractions, and a majority of colleagues who do not understand my difficulties, or even doubt that I have them.
But of course the job I want to do doesn't involve coping with a class of 15 people or being observed while I practice 'counselling' a classmate who is pretending to be someone else. It sometimes seems ironically unfair, but that is how it is.
So, what do I do well?
1. Narrative ‘Rote’ Memory
Well, for one thing, I have an unusual memory. I can't remember my own bank PIN code which I've used for years, but most textbooks, as long as I get the gist of the theory, I remember most of it. Not word-for-word, but significant parts of the book I will remember from a single reading... friends joke that they try to catch me out with questions about things I can't possibly know anything about, and I can usually come up with something. Especially stuff I am interested in.
Autistic people like me have 'special interests' or 'perseverations' (from the same root as the word 'perseverance'). I have always felt that if I could direct this ability to develop an intense interest in something at will, I'd probably have a Nobel Prize by now. Unfortunately, the autistic brain’s searchlight settles on what it will, and we have to accept that. Or work with it. Fortunately for me, my special interest is people, so remembering what they have said (at least the gist) is fairly easy for me.
What I focus on and find easy to remember is the ‘narrative’ – maybe I’ll get specific details wrong, but I’ll remember the story my client has told me. I’ll remember the notable details and those odd phrases that stick in my mind. Like the example I gave in a previous article, where someone mentioned, in passing, having a new boyfriend and then mentioned that they had been divorced. Instantly my brain will fix on those two facts and try to find the connection (if there is one).
And this is my real ‘autism superpower’: pattern matching.
2. Pattern Matching Humans.
Many people are familiar with autistic mathematicians or computer experts. In fact, it is a bit of a TV and movie trope: the autistic genius who can do anything with a computer but doesn’t understand people. There was even a Bruce Willis film a few years ago, called ‘Mercury Rising’ about a kid who was so good at pattern matching, he could decode anything (including the supercomputer invented to save the world, of course).
In real life, our pattern matching skills might be less impressive, but they are also not confined to computing and maths. I did in fact train as a computer programmer at one time. Turned out, I was adequate, but not much more than that: Definitely not gifted.
These days I prefer to just use a computer and not worry about how it works! It took me many years to realise that my pattern matching abilities weren’t actually turned towards machines and maths. Instead, I ‘pattern match’ people.
It is a fundamental belief in psychology that human behaviour is, at its heart, logical. Even ‘mad’ behaviour could be explained (maybe in terms of brain chemistry awry, or learned behaviour to cope with trauma, being expressed in inappropriate situations). I firmly believe that (although they say we know more about the surface of the moon than the human mind, at this point in history). Maybe one day we’ll have mind-reading machines?
In the meantime, we have to go by ‘clues' and the flawed method of talking to people and listening to what they say. Like any neurotypical, I can’t say how I can guess right how a person is feeling, when I do get it right.
I am presumably doing a lot of observations and calculations subconsciously. Probably this is me using my pattern matching abilities: comparing their body language with body language in known situations; memorising phrases and ways of talking I've heard before and linking one thing they say (“new boyfriend”) with another thing they say (“divorce”), developing my hypotheses, and then looking for further clues to support those hypotheses.
So maybe I’d guessed their feelings about their divorce were tainting the current relationship? I’d then look for clues to support or contradict that hypothesis.
Autistic people like me tend to process non-verbal communication in a very conscious, learned way. I like to describe it as having a ‘database’ of behaviours on which I can draw. My rote memory can rapidly compare and contrast what I’m seeing in front of me with past experience and make accurate guesses.
It is important I do not mistake my ‘guesses’ for absolute fact. They are only working hypotheses until the client gives me their view on them. But often, I have found that people are surprised and say “Wow, I think you’re right! That is what I mean!”. Other times they may agree with me, but not be ready to hear it; or they may totally disagree with me and find me completely wrong.
However, provided I am sufficiently 'tentative' (as Carl Rogers recommends) even disagreements can provide excellent fodder to work with. It provides me with more information about the client's point-of-view and facilitates better communication in future. I tend not to forget when I’ve been corrected. I also find a humble counsellor is one a client finds easier to trust: If I get it wrong and have no problem admitting that, then the client knows they can argue with me safely, without upsetting me.
3. Focus = Really Paying Attention
My final autism superpower is paying attention.
I have written previously about how hard it can be to pay attention to anything, in a big room, full of people, traffic noises, air con, a watch ticking, a mobile phone vibrating… Sensory overload.
But when I am able to be quiet and still, such in a counselling room, my focus can come into its own. When I am focussed on someone, I am completely focussed. And such focus, with active listening, is a powerful thing. Particularly when so many clients presenting for counselling, especially the autistic ones, have experienced not being heard, not being paid attention to.
As an autistic client myself, this is my overwhelming life experience: that of not being really listened to. Like many autistic people, I tend to be pretty direct and literal when I say things. So, if I say, “I can’t do that”, I mean I can’t do that. Not that I lack confidence, or I’m being stubborn, or attention seeking. I probably mean “I lack the information I need to complete this task”.
With all clients, especially autistic ones, really paying attention to what they say, and how they say it (being aware that often autistic people have atypical body language and ‘blunt affect’ ie little expression even when highly emotional), is an important skill in counselling. So given the right environment, my autism can mean a client, who finds it difficult to feel heard, can finally experience that.
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