At a recent meeting, the bizarre ritual of chatting before starting the business included asking me what I had done over the weekend. Fortunately, and rarely, I had left the house to visit the opticians, so I had an easy answer, even though it was quite dull compared to what others on the call had done. But reflecting on this later made me see that there is still a huge lack of understanding about the cost of working for many autistic people.
I am lucky. I work at home full-time in a job I know I am good at. But almost every day, I am absolutely exhausted when I finish work and tend to collapse into an armchair for the evening before going to bed early. The weekends are little better. I find I need most of both days to recover from the week at work and build some energy reserves for the week ahead. If I try to do something physical, like tidying the garden, I find I have little capacity for it, even though being both outside and active helps my mental health.
I think it is still widely misunderstood among many neurotypical people just how exhausting everyday life, and particularly going to work, can be for autistic people. I know that work is tiring for everybody, but many autistic people do not have the capacity to do much outside work at all. At the same time, I regularly hear of colleagues going out for the evening midweek and having all sorts of exciting adventures at weekends. The only way I can realistically do much outside work is to take time off and allow time to recover before going back to work.
The reasons for this exhaustion are many and complex, but near the top of the list is the need for many of us to constantly mask at work, even when working remotely. I cannot respond naturally to emails or Teams chats without risking being admonished for being blunt or rude. Meetings wear me out in almost no time at all because I find taking in anything orally such hard work, and attempting to observe the myriad of unwritten social conventions also takes a huge amount of energy (and still often ends in failure).
Then there is the constant worry that we are going to be misunderstood, complained about, ridiculed or abused for being different. We may have to fight constantly for our basic needs to be met, and having to switch between tasks and recover from interruptions regularly can take us a lot more energy than neurotypicals. If our sensory needs are not properly met, as is often the case, just existing in that space can be enormously draining before we even try to do any work, and we are tormented by noise, bright lights, horrible textures, or pervasive aromas.
All of this combined means that for many of us, a life outside work is just a dream. We are either working, recovering from work, or preparing for work. It is why it is so important that as many of our basic needs at work are met wherever possible: for us, this is not just part of our life; it is most of our life, and nearly all of our energy goes there. It is why we may be reluctant to commit to events outside of work (in addition to the fact that things like after-work drinks or a meal are often not sensory-friendly and may highlight our social issues).
A little understanding can go a long way. Your autistic employee or colleague may look like they are coping just fine, but you are not seeing the whole picture. Chances are, they need a lot longer to recover than their neurotypical colleagues, with an inevitable major impact on the rest of their life.