To Kick Off Mental Health Month: I’m quitting my full-time job

Navigating the workplace as an autistic person: I help people with this every day. I care and talk a lot about disability accommodations and advocacy for people like me to get the support they need to enable them to comfortably, successfully and sustainably perform their roles. This is an entire service I offer at NeuroSpark— accommodations consulting— exploring people’s barriers at the workplace and finding reasonable and meaningful solutions to reduce or eliminate these barriers to create a more inclusive/supportive work dynamic for them. 

I do all that, but meanwhile, my own work situation is not even inclusive nor supportive. I think this is part of the reason why I have such a fire and passion when I hear my clients talking about how they are treated at work. I go so hard for them to advocate, find solutions, and partner with them to break down these barriers— because I know how it feels. I’m angry right along with them. But I’m certainly not defeated. It’s time I practice what I preach. 

I’ve recently been hit with this reality recently: there is no accommodation request for basic human kindness.  Believe me, I’ve even tried to ask for it. I realized that I can advocate for myself, prove myself, voice my concerns, and do great work, and in some workplace situations like my most recent one, this does not suffice to mitigate the workplace toxicity. It’s simply just toxic. It’s not my fault. It’s not a lack of trying or effort on my part. It’s the system. 

I am not slandering anyone nor getting into specific details. This is what I will say. I had to gracefully teach myself to adopt the belief that it is okay to end. It’s okay to walk away from something and separate myself from situations that make me unhappy. Life is too short to just tolerate things. I’m here to be happy, healthy, and safe, and have a good life.

I had to do a lot of introspection to free myself from the idea that quitting means I failed or am giving up. I had to do a lot of internal work, to be able to acknowledge that I deserve better and leaving means I’m opening myself up to bigger and brighter opportunities. I now see that decision as a major win. I am proud of myself for being brave amidst the uncertainty, and stepping into it with hope for what’s next.

Here’s how I knew it was time to quit my job.

1. The job is affecting my mental health. 

Anxiety and dread about work almost every day is not the lifestyle I want to live. And the amount of stress… oh the stress. It has become a regular occurrence for me to go into fight or flight mode over standard work occurrences such as an email. This is because I’ve been pushed to feel unsafe and unsupported.  I have anxiety about how they are going to attack me or belittle me next. It seems I can’t execute my duties without someone, somewhere at work trying to push back on it. Oscillating between crying or feeling numb after work all the time is not normal or okay. I have even had moments where I tell myself some really damaging things about who I am as a person, which affects my overall self-esteem: Am I not good enough? Do I not communicate effectively? Do people not take me seriously because I’m neurodivergent? 0/10. Don’t recommend ever letting yourself believe those things—it’s a JOB that is making me feel this way and it is NOT okay. I quickly catch myself from going down these self-pity rabbit holes. I know I am capable, I’m a professional, I’m a great employee, I do the right thing, the clients and families I work with appreciate and trust me, I do my job and I do it very well.

2. The job is affecting my physical health.

I have been having some extremely poor sleep. I stay up all night thinking constantly. Even my food and water intake has been faltering. I haven’t been engaging in my self care. I haven’t been engaging in healthy habits such as walking or exercising. The emotional burden is truly draining my body to the point of physical fatigue and exhaustion, and my executive functioning that allows me to take the steps necessary to take good care of myself, has been severely dampened as a result. I feel physically nauseous thinking about it. I’ve been getting sick a lot, my immune system is totally suppressed by the stress and my body absolutely feels it. 

3. Gaslighting/Denying/Brushing It Off

How many times I have sent an email or made a statement, and they just publicly outwardly deny it. As an autistic person and as a licensed clinical social worker, I tell the truth and am very direct. I can assert something that is completely true, and the response I get is “that didn’t happen.” This is a humiliating and crazy-making experience that has had me questioning reality. I have sat and thought about this many times and I still cannot process or comprehend how people can deny facts, or WHY they deny, or what they gain from it. Laziness to not do the extra work of addressing a real issue, lack of accountability? Straight up just not caring? I don’t get it. I never will. I don’t have to continue trying. This will not change unless they revamp their entire personalities, lol. WHY can’t there be an accommodation for that?

4. Lack of support.

When something like the above situation happens, my supervisors/leadership goes radio silent. Even though, to my face, they will say that I’m right, they never publicly address nor support nor agree with me while in the presence of coworkers. Their silence and lack of response says it all. If it doesn’t come from up-top, the employees will not listen. This is frustrating because we are supposed to be a team, right? This whole dynamic gives coworkers the narrative that it’s okay to continue to mistreat me, ignore me, or refuse to change their behavior.

5. Power Struggles 

Why does EVERYTHING have to be a power struggle, over the most minuscule, simple, things? Seriously, we’re not talking about situations or decisions of extreme magnitude…. something as simple as who should make a routine phone call, turns into a 12-email-long back and forth thread? In the time it took to send all these passive-aggressive emails, the task could have been completed and a whole bunch of other progress could have been made. It’s so stupid and ridiculous. Why does everyone think they need to prove they know the “best way?” and spend all their energy overriding others? Why does no one give each other professional deference? Basic respect even?

6. Fakeness/Inauthenticity  

With autistic people, you get what you get. You will know what my opinion is on the matter. You will know my thoughts and recommendations on the topic. I will make statements that I mean, and I still do it with kindness. Hearing people talk behind each other’s backs, or hearing from third-parties that a person said one thing in a meeting, but turned around and said the opposite thing to someone else? Or someone says “yes” to something, and then tells another person “no?” If this is confusing to read for you, just know that I am just as confused. There’s a lot of negative and mean remarks shared about a person and then it’s all smiles when they’re in the same space. I SEE THIS. I’m not blind to the fakeness, in fact I am very deeply aware of it, I can immediately detect when someone is being inauthentic. I hyper-analyze every single social dynamic and see exactly what people are doing. I can no longer participate in this. Which leads to my next point.

7. Masking to the point where it’s unmanageable 

With all things considered, I am sick and tired of masking. It’s too much. I can no longer do it. I have heard other neurodivergent people share that their ability or tolerance to continue masking has actually decreased with age. This resonates with me a lot. I can’t. It takes too much energy and I don’t want to lose myself as a person. How can I feel this way and then show up to work like “Hi! How are you? I’m good!!!! How was your weekend?” In fact, I’m actually not good, and I spent the entire weekend dreading seeing you, Karen, especially after the shit you pulled last week, but here we are stuck in an elevator together exchanging meaningless small talk and pleasantries. But you can’t say that. There’s bills to pay. 

Since starting at NeuroSpark, I just want to note, I spend a day masking at my full time job and then later in the day I get the HONOR and PRIVILEGE of meeting with neurodivergent clients and colleagues. This actually helped me notice the stark difference in how it makes me feel, and it’s very simple. I show up to NeuroSpark as my authentic self and do not mask. It’s a safe space for all parties involved. I noticed, repeatedly, that after having a conversation with a fellow neurodivergent person, I truly feel energized, happy, and inspired. I feel the “spark” that we have built the entire business on. After having a conversation with my neurotypical colleagues at the full-time job, my spark is completely dimmed and I feel drained. 

I will no longer dim my light, my spark, my passion, and my inspiration, to fit into a toxic workplace culture where there is no psychological safety. I want to focus my time on the things that are good fit, instead of trying to make myself fit into their grey world. I am moving into living as my authentic self and bringing more joy into my life, being successful, being satisfied, being fulfilled and happy. 

This is exactly what I strive to help people with, too. They come in to a space at NeuroSpark, and know that they are not alone, they are valid, their feelings are valid, they are appreciated, they are special, they have a lot of amazing things to contribute to the world, there’s hope, there’s a way for them to find their spark and use their unique gifts and strengths to thrive, in spite of, the systems in place to disable and oppress them. 

Empowerment. We no longer have to be quiet or complacent. We can advocate.  We can educate. We can go for the things we want. We can make decisions that benefit us. We can step away from toxic relationships. We can set and stick to boundaries. We can say no. We can give ourselves permission to believe in ourselves and find/create/obtain/utilize/benefit from a network of support of people who believe in us, too. We can step into uncertainty and explore new possibilities. We can try and try and try again until we finally land on a formula that works. We can experiment. We can also fall. We can also struggle. We can make mistakes. We can get afraid and overwhelmed. We don’t have to be perfect. We don’t have to conform. We can have times where we cry and scream and want to give up. We can give ourselves time to rest and recover. We can ask for help. We can take breaks. We can slow down. We can give ourselves permission to not be productive all the time. We can get stuck. We can decide to end or not finish something we thought we wanted. We can change our minds. We can do what we can with the resources we have at that particular moment in time. 

You know what else we can do? Pick our battles. Try to be strategic in what we spend our energy and time on. We don’t need to fix everything. Not everyone will hear us. Not everyone will care. We may not have the energy for it.  Autistics can often have a strong sense of justice, and that is admirable, but sometimes we might have to let go when we’ve overextended our resources to no avail. I’ve had to do this at work, it took me a while to finally accept the things I can’t change about people and systems. I did my part. I’ve exhausted every bit of effort. After advocating tirelessly, repeatedly, and it still clearly not working, I’m done. I only wish I would have been done sooner. It required bravery to do some brutal self-reflection and soul searching to get to this point. It’s the healthiest thing I could have done. 

I can share what HAS been keeping me sane and supported through this turmoil because I certainly could not have done this alone. 

1. You. 

I’ve said this before but I will continue to say it: community with other neurodivergent people is one of the most healing and supportive venues for me. This cannot be stressed enough. What a difference it has made since I decided to reach out, share, and make connections with people who understand.

2. My Coach

My own personal coach has been so incredibly helpful during this time period. (He is the first helping professional that I’ve ever had who is neurodivergent…he is a breath of fresh air)

He has guided me through several pretty major milestones, decisions, and issues over the past few months. Always listening, reacting genuinely when I tell him a story, openly shares his opinions and wisdom when I ask, sharing his own experience, and helping me figure out what to do next. A lot of it was how to help me succeed and solve problems at work. After the most recent event at work, it’s now him showing me that I deserve better and working on a plan to transition. My coach has quite literally done more to help me than any former helping professional has ever done. I am so glad I have him to turn to. 

3. Supportive Colleagues 

I have one coworker, JUST ONE, who supports me. It’s also the first time I’ve ever 

had this kind of connection with a coworker. Grateful for her. She’s a real one. Responding to emails with “Dani, I agree. Thank you for your work on this. I share the same concerns. You’re doing a great job.” Words that my supervisor doesn’t say. We can call eachother and commiserate. We share the latest news. We complain about things to eachother. She calls and asks if I’m ok. She feels what I feel. This is definitely important, to have that one coworker. Everyone else, I can be cordial with. But at least I have her. 

I also have 2 other professional colleagues to turn to outside of work. They are well aware of my situation and encourage me to do what’s right for me. They believe in me and help me encourage me about next steps. Grateful. 

4. Spouse

Listens to me complain about work constantly. That deserves an award of its own. 

5. Friends

My best friend. His name is Fred. I can’t not include him. 

6. Watching and Learning from Others

I am certainly not the first neurodivergent person to escape the traditional 9-5 arrangement and take things into their own hands. I am definitely not the last. The neurodivergent professionals and business owners I follow exude this sense of freedom and purpose when they live life and do work on their own terms. This is what finding your spark, and living it, looks like. It’s a lot of stress, hard work, time, and effort to make our dreams and ideas come to fruition, but if they can do it, so can I.

If I can do it, so can you. Let’s figure out what that could look like. 

*Note. I recognize the privilege in this process. Not everyone has the time, ability, support, freedom, physical, emotional or financial resources to quit their jobs and start something else. Let’s figure out ways to help you navigate situations that you can’t get out of right now and still live your life.