Irritable, Moody, and Mean: How to Resist Shame and Care for Your Autistic Nervous System
At age 10, I came home from school and was informed by my mom and step-dad that we would be going to Los Angeles - for what, I didn’t know. I sat in the back seat listening to music for the 2-hour drive.
Surprise - we arrived at an amphitheater where my parents had gotten us tickets for my first concert. We made our way through hectic crowds of people buying drinks and merch. It wasn’t until we found our seats and sat waiting for the show to begin that I was able to process what was happening. I was thrilled to be seeing one of my favorite artists live, but my face didn’t show it.
The show began and I heard the same songs I had been listening to in the car, this time with the addition of colorful flashing lights and sounds that I could feel crawling on my skin. “Why aren’t you dancing?” My step-dad’s words pulled me from my entranced state. I became aware that while most people around me were smiling, dancing, and singing along, I stood completely still with a frozen expression. I remember wondering why I couldn’t be more fun and normal.
With so much going on around me, I found it hard to speak. Soon my mom chimed in, “Come on, what’s wrong?” I felt irritated but tried to refocus on the show. My step-dad took my arms in his hands and moved them like he was trying to make a puppet dance. I yanked my limbs away and sternly told him, “STOP.” That did it. “Seriously? We brought you to a concert and you’re going to act like this? This is the last time we do something like this for you.” I felt completely out of control and misunderstood. “Whatever,” they rolled their eyes at me.
Developmental Shame
The anecdote above is one of many I can recall that taught me that I was an ungrateful, mean child. I learned that I couldn’t be myself. I had to make sure I was matching the expressions of those around me, otherwise I would reveal that I was bad. Even worse, I would be reminded of how different I was. I didn’t learn that I was autistic until my mid-20’s. Since then, I’ve learned about autistic experience, found autistic community, and provided therapy to countless autistic people who have shared similar stories.
Developmental shame (in contrast to guilt which functions as a moral compass) forms in childhood when our need for unconditional love and acceptance from our caregivers is ruptured. As these ruptures continue, neural networks related to emotional regulation and safety weaken, while networks associated with danger and distrust activate.
Throughout childhood and adolescence we subconsciously develop shame-based narratives to make sense of our experience. Over time, these shameful narratives are internalized, polluting our sense of self. The five components of developmental shame, according to shame researcher and psychotherapist Patti Ashley, include “low self-esteem, humiliation, problems with self-continuity, isolation or not fitting in, and the feeling of being watched by others.”
A shame-based narrative many of us Autistics have internalized is that we are mean, bad, and incapable of connection due to our differences. Most of us feel deeply misunderstood. When I look back on my experience at the concert, it is clear that I was feeling overwhelmed. Although I was happy to be there, I needed the space to process it in my own way. The surprise concert, mixed emotions, the crowds and the noise were a lot for an autistic child to take in.
Caring for an Autistic Nervous System
Irritability and moodiness convey nothing about who we are as people, and everything about the state of our nervous system. Irritability can be a sign that the sympathetic nervous system is activated, which occurs during times of heightened stress.
The autistic nervous system is quite sensitive, and there is a lot that can cause sympathetic activation. We don’t always realize how much our environment can impact us so it might feel like we’re irritable for no reason. However, distressing or even mildly aggravating sensory stimuli can play a significant role in sympathetic activation. Other factors that may activate autists’ sympathetic nervous systems include lack of predictability, lack of alone time, and prolonged masking. Chronic sympathetic activation can be a sign of untended trauma and autistic burnout.
Polyvagal therapist and licensed clinical social worker Deb Dana uses the phrase ‘story follows state’ to remind us that the story we are telling ourselves at any given moment is a reflection of the state of our nervous system. Feelings of irritability due to sympathetic activation will be reflected in our thoughts. For example, when walking through a noisy crowd, one might have the thought, “I hate people” or “Why does everyone have to walk so slow?’ It is easy for shame to kick in at these moments, telling us that we are mean for having such thoughts. If the shame spiral continues, we might think about how no one would like us if they knew how mean we truly are on the inside.
If we consider our thoughts and moods to be merely a reflection of our nervous system state, we can proactively care for ourselves rather than perpetuate the shame narrative. We can take frustrated feelings and ‘mean’ thoughts as signs of distress. Focusing on what we need in the moment can help stop shame in its tracks. You are not an irritable, moody, or mean person. You are a person with a sensitive nervous system that is deserving of patience, understanding, and care.
References:
Shame-Informed Therapy: Treatment Strategies to Overcome Core Shame and Reconstruct the Authentic Self by Patti Ashley, PhD, LPC
The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy: Engaging the Rhythm of Regulation by Deb Dana, LCSW
Lou is a queer, autistic, multiply neurodivergent therapist in California.
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