This post is about a well-known meme of Ralph Wiggum from The Simpsons.
It lands a little differently for some people. This post is dedicated to those people.
Most of us have felt that feeling at times – in a social situation, at a family gathering, in the street or park, at work – the realisation that things are currently or imminently going to go horribly wrong for you, and that it’s probably too late to do anything to stop it.
It’s a pretty unpleasant mix of disempowerment, vulnerability, and shame. Shame in particular because it’s clear that, while this is probably not your fault, you’re going to get blamed… for something, somehow. I won’t get into the more significant variations to do with assault or abuse… you get the idea.
Some groups within our society are particularly vulnerable in this regard, usually due to misogyny, racism, homomisia, transmisia, xenophobia, ableism, or what we could call credomisia (hatred based on faith/beliefs). Straight away you may notice this includes an awful lot of people.
It is no surprise that anyone likely to encounter this experience is going to take precautions to avoid such situations and protect themselves when they arise.
We can group all these strategies under the umbrella term Careful Living.
By contrast we can say that people who rarely or never feel this threat in their daily lives experience Carefree Living. That’s not to say they don’t encounter risk or mistreatment, just that it is so unlikely to arise in the course of everyday life as not to warrant pre-emptive planning.
So – and let’s face it, we’re thinking very much about Autistic people particularly here – what kinds of things fall under the heading of Careful Living?
We could try to list ways people respond to risk such as perfectionism or masking, avoidance or flight, catatonic or dissociative states, and so on but these are the end results not the underlying planning or strategy.
To understand Careful Living properly we need to focus on the burden of planning. That’s what makes Careful Living careful, regardless of the actual way a person responds in the moment.
Planning takes time and energy, both in advance and in execution. These are experiences very familiar to many Autistic people, and even more so those with other characteristics commonly associated with the need to live carefully. So, an Autistic person who is also female, black, and has chronic fatigue likely has an additional planning burden to deal with, because there are additional risks present in daily life for her.
Careful Living takes time, and costs money, eats into opportunities for social interaction, for work advancement, and for rest.
It is exhausting. Utterly, relentlessly exhausting.
To a great extent that planning cost remains invisible to people who are unaffected by it, and that’s a large part of why I’m laying this out so… carefully. Writing this is a planned Careful Living activity. Explaining the risk, the burden, and what it might look like to others is about lightening that burden for all of us by asking carefree livers to do a little of the planning yourselves, to exercise a little patience and thoughtfulness.
So, what might you observe from outside?
A person who agrees to a social event in the moment yet cancels. A person who is often reluctant to give a straight answer. A person who leaves unexpectedly or goes quiet in company. Someone who seems unhappy, agitated or uptight in a social situation who, when asked, says “Yes, I’m fine. I’m having a good time, thanks.” even while their body language is telling you the opposite. It might be a person who avoids crowds… or always seems to avoid walking alone. That friend who does the ‘nod and smile’ response but who seems a bit disconnected or distracted. Someone who seems to quit every job after three weeks, or who never seems to stand up for themself, prefers to interact by text rather than a call, online rather than in person.
And yes, Careful Living lies at the heart of masking. Of course.
What’s happening throughout all this is a constant monitoring of the environment, analysis of probabilities, and that voice ever-present: “Is this allowed?”
“Am I allowed?”… “Do I have permission?”… “How will people respond?”… “What could go wrong?”… and a constant awareness of their escape routes.
This is what is going on as they monitor for that moment when, like Ralph Wiggum, the internal voice says “(chuckles) I’m in danger!”
Too often, they are already feeling in danger.
You can make this life easier for us. As a friend, advocate, family member, teacher, colleague or boss, you can signal your willingness to be a support and ask how you can help.
This might mean being ready to be a Walk-In Buddy, accompanying them into a social or work or educational setting, being present and alert to an agreed “escape me!” signal. Or, it might mean speaking up in agreement with an idea they voice, or advocating for freer workplace rules. It might mean watching for bullying, abuse, mistreatment, or being ignored… and being ready to step in and call it out.
Most of all, though, it means being kind, and patient, and asking them what you can do to share a little of the load.
There’s always situations that just become a threat no matter what, and inevitably with a high level of PTSD and anxiety within the Autistic community, apparently minor things can trigger the need for a rapid response. Knowing your partner or friend or child or student or colleague’s needs means you can stop situations before they arise, and make them safe when they do.
And, to the many, many people reading this (Hi, folks!) who know too well what Careful Living is (even if you’ve never heard it called that before), what’s your experiences?
How often does that voice caution you “am I allowed?” When do you pause, step back or avoid because the risk is ever-present? How often do you feel the urge to flee? Or the panic rising? Or scan for exits? Nod and smile as you fail to process a word being said? Wonder when you will be spotted and rejected?
