From walking home holding hands to feeling I would happily divorce him on the spot - welcome to the emotionally exhausting world of neurodiverse partnernerships

Hard to believe that, just a week ago, all was well with the world and my relationship, and I was walking along the road holding hands with my autistic but loveable husband. Even his irritating foibles weren't that irritating and, anyway, it could all be explained by his uniquely wonderful differently wired mind.

Yet, less than a week later, that same differently-wired mind is making me want to kill him.

Over tea (our evening meal, for those of you not in the north of England), he was stressing to our eldest son about what time he was going to get the car to the garage after work. Saying that Sam absolutely had to have it there by 5 pm and he better not be any later, etc. The impression being – and I think I'm right in saying that anyone would surmise the same – that the earlier Sam could get the car to the garage on the Friday afternoon, the better.

So I said, aiming to be helpful, 'Why don't I just drop Sam at work and then I can drop the car at the garage and they can start work on it whenever they like?'

The response to which was unexpected, to say the least. 

 

Confusion, anger and aggression – a winning combination

Ethan started aggressively asking why I would say that. Why that would make any difference. Whether I thought the garage could just drop everything and fit us in, etc.

He also, bafflingly, started talking about what time we would get the car on Saturday.

I was confused.

I wondered out loud what difference the time we collected the car on Saturday made to anything. Wasn’t this conversation about what time we could get the car to the garage on Friday?

Ethan continued (still aggressively) to make no sense, talking about why I would say I’d take the car earlier on Friday. Why was I interfering?

I was still just as confused. And, by now, angry. 

Why was he being such an idiot? Plus what the hell was he on about? He'd been stressing about Sam getting the car to the garage by 5 pm, I'd just offered to solve the problem by dropping Sam at work myself and then dropping the car at the garage earlier so he didn't need to stress about whether Sam would get the car there by 5 pm. I presumed I was being helpful. 

And I was getting blasted for it. 

Image is AI generated

The ‘afterwards’ problem

After Ethan had ranted and got aggressive and been generally unpleasant (and this is the problem, it's always afterwards) he revealed the key piece of information that the garage was only going to loosen the bolts on the car last thing on Friday, ready to do the work first thing Saturday morning. So, in his head, Ethan shouting at me about whether I thought 'the garage would just fit us in whenever we wanted' made complete sense, because the guy wasn't going to work on the car until Saturday morning, but needed it last thing Friday. Therefore, why was I getting involved and why was I making ‘stupid’ suggestions?

The problem was, Ethan hadn't communicated this key information to me (or, in fact, to any of us) and was then angry that we didn't instantly understand the situation and that I was 'interfering when he'd already made the arrangements'. One of his lines, when I suggested I could drop the car, was 'I've made the plans, why are you interfering? Sam's dropping the car by 5 pm. That's what's going to happen.' 

“Ethan hadn’t communicated this key information and was then angry when     we didn’t understand”

And that’s the problem. The rigid, inflexible (I know, the mean the same thing!), obstinate thinking that won’t flex to what anyone else is saying – not even enough to make room for a slightly different angle.

In one sense, this was a simple case of miscommunication. But it's the same thing that happens again and again. Ethan only shares half the information but, in his head, thinks he's explained fully. Then, when other people ask or say something that doesn't fit with what he thinks he's told you but hasn't, he gets mad. 

I know it’s because his ADHD brain has missed out on communicating a chunk of essential information. I know it’s because his autistic brain can’t bend and flex to fit in another perspective. And I suspect a part of it is rejection sensitive dysphoria at feeling his authority and decision-making is being questioned.

But none of this understanding makes him easier to live with in the moment he’s behaving like a narcissistic knobhead.

As a side note, he’s also always sorry afterwards but, again, a mumbled sorry afterwards and then the same situation repeated ad infinitum, wears a bit thin.

 

The problem of drinking when you’re autistic

The other problem is that, even if the other person did have the wrong end of the stick, rather than communicate calmly and reasonably like a normal person, he gets angry, attacks and belittles. 

Which makes the other person think 'sod you'. Which is probably one of the (many) reasons he has no friends. 

And yet, when he's not behaving like an idiot, he can be so lovely and thoughtful and kind. 

Those times though, do seem to be getting less frequent and the knobby times getting more so. 

They're not helped by the fact he spends half his life slightly drunk. Hiding rum in a cupboard and topping it up whenever it gets low so I won't know how much he's drunk (or so he thinks). I'm actually starting to think sod it myself, let him drink himself to death. The problem is, when he's drunk, he loses the little bit of filter he has, and the effort he makes, when he's sober, to stay calm, process information before reacting and manage his emotions, dissolves (which, clearly, is why he likes/needs to drink). 

But each time we hit an episode like tonight, those handholding moments seem more and more out of reach.