Spring 2016. Here I am, sitting at a tall table in a public study space -- and I'm crying. It's not about my significant other or a failed exam; it's because some guy asked me to a movie and I have no idea how to deal.
Scratch that: I'm not dealing.
Is this a friend thing or not? How do I figure that out? Do I even like guys that way? How do I cope with the loudness of the surround system? Furthermore, will I even be able to make it to the theater? I get panicky just taking the light rail if it's not to the Northstar line.
See, I'm autistic. It often doesn't show. I am a successful student and published writer who can pretend to be a perfectly neurotypical (non-autistic) girl on a good day.
That said, I have crying meltdowns like this if I'm dealing with too many unknown factors.
It's not fun.
And if it's not fun for me, it certainly must not be fun for witnesses.
I'm absolutely terrified to have meltdowns in front of my family. Not because they're judging me, of course -- they just don't know how to help me work through it. They don't want to go over there and ask what's wrong because they don't want to worsen the situation.
I'm writing this to tell you how to not do that: how not to make it worse, but how to make it better. There's one magic trick that is a cure-all for when your friend gets triggered by something, no matter the something and no matter the friend.
Two words: ask and listen. All you have to do to help is ask what triggers symptoms before those symptoms actually happen.
When they reply, you shut your mouth and listen. The goal here is not for you to pass judgment on the way this person feels, not to be all "Wow, they get worked up over fluorescent lights." It is just to understand the fact that they get worked up over fluorescent lights and remember it. Work to avoid fluorescent lights with that friend in the future.
You know how professors encourage you to talk to them during office hours if you don't understand the material? This is the friendship equivalent of that. There's no shame in not automatically understanding someone who is different from you.
Asking and listening is just as important for your friends who don't have as immediate and visible reactions to triggers as I do. If you didn't talk to your friend about how their soul-sucking job triggers their depression symptoms, for example, you might think they're just being a jerk when they don't show up the next day to get coffee with you.
I'm not saying that we mentally ill and/or neurodivergent folk shouldn't communicate. We have to be vocal about our triggers if we want understanding for them. I'm not saying that we shouldn't be held accountable for our social mistakes.
What I am saying, though: communication is a two-way street.
