Neurodiverse university graduate: Universal Credit, retail, and a sense of constant doom.

Do you ever feel like you were doomed from the get go? As in you were set up to fail in life?

I was a decent student in school. I had my personal troubles, but I was ultimately quite high achieving and had potential. That’s what I was told at least, that I had “potential”. This word was thrown around in reference to me frequently. I showed interest in law, mainly because my mother said I argued like a lawyer (which is an interesting way to tell a child she’s being a bitch) and I sort of ran with it because everyone seemed impressed when I said I wanted to be a lawyer. I even did my year nine work experience at a law firm, and honestly I didn’t hate it. What I wasn’t so keen on was the concept of a 9–5 job; waking up at 6.30 to get ready and commuting an hour to the next city, never having a weekday off and living for the weekend which was basically just Saturday because you can’t get anything done on a Sunday. What was crazy to me is so many people could just get on with that and accept that was their life. Why was this okay? Were these people ever happy? Social media depicted them as such. The 9–5 office lifestyle seemed to be the most accessible and foolproof way to have infinite money and therefore happiness.

I continued to work hard in school, and then came A Levels. I chose Philosophy, English and Art. I was advised that taking Law wasn’t a good idea in college because they taught differently to university, so I chose a “fun” subject for my sanity. I struggled with socialisation and this weird unspoken smartness hierarchy with people in my friend group who did maths and science subjects. I also got into an abusive relationship where I either didn’t have time to study or I couldn’t because he expected me to spend every waking minute with him. I failed Philosophy first year exams, I barely passed Art, and I did okay in English but because of that one fail I had to do a Level 3. I wasn’t allowed to retake, which I’ve been told shouldn’t have been the case. My boyfriend wanted to do the same subject as me to keep an eye on me and the trouble he caused for me socially that year made me attempt to drop out. I wasn’t allowed and told by my dad and my tutor that I wouldn’t get anywhere in life if I did. That stuck with me. I passed that year with a Merit, but I didn’t go back.

So there I was with no college qualifications and parents mortified at the fact I’d be doing retail for the rest of my life. I was too tired to care. If I made money, and I was content, what was the issue? Then one night, on a whim I applied to a few different universities. I had the writing abilities so I was able to make my case in my personal statement, and I got two unconditionals. Plymouth offered a foundation in English with Creative Writing, so I chose that. Shitty ex followed me and I spent my first year isolated and scared. I didn’t want to go out in case I saw him because he stayed at my accommodation. He kept tabs on who I was friendly with in my flat and made sure to swoop in and be better friends with them. I heard rumours about me from people who didn’t even know me. I was too anxious to go to class. I felt left out when I’d hear the sounds of drunk friend groups. I was so alone. I wanted to drop out, and worse. I wanted to not exist.

Covid hit and everything was online. I felt better only because people were in the same boat as me now- isolated. I lived with another boyfriend so at least I had company, and I befriended a group of neurodiverse LGBTS who were in my class. It was finally looking up for me. Well, aside from the fact the quality of teaching we were getting was more than subpar and we wouldn’t be getting any form of compensation for basically teaching ourselves. My third year came around and classes were finally in person. My grades slowly went up but with one year left and with focusing on my dissertation for the following year, I didn’t have the time to check out internships which might help my career. I didn’t have the support to put me in the right direction. I was aware of this issue, and any branch I did put out didn’t account for anything. I managed eventually to get two internships interviews (I’d seen posters for on campus) which I didn’t hear back from at all. So I graduated, and had no prospects. I’m just kind of alright at writing, have okay computer skills, and talking to customers. I wasn’t even able to get an entry level admin gig and live that 9–5 dream everyone had badgered on about.

Immediately my father pestered me about what I was going to do. I had questions from other family members too, and it became so stressful. My graduation photos hadn’t even been printed yet and it became a fixation for people around me to ask what was next. Dad also told me to go on Universal Credit to pay for rent and I hated that thought. It meant weekly appointments, being watched like a hawk, and aimlessly applying to jobs I really don’t care about. I managed to eventually get two Christmas retail roles and how mentally exhausted I was from those had me crying every night when I’d get home. I was taxed to hell because I was working two jobs so it didn’t feel worth it. Then I made mistakes at work, and one of them I got into quite big trouble for (in busy periods I’d give the wrong change because I’d get flustered). I fear failure. I fear letting people down. I fear not doing my job perfectly. I fear confrontation from people I perceive to be higher up than me. I finished my contract on one of my jobs, and decided to stay at the other but one of the managers was more than harsh when things got busy. It started to get to me, especially with two recent deaths in my family. She wouldn’t ease up and told me I was being useless, so after crying for two days straight I quit. Then, because of that, I was in trouble with Universal Credit. My father was also disappointed in me, even if he didn’t say he was. I hated that most of all. I could tell he was looking at all the mistakes I’ve made up until that point.

Part of the issue is I haven’t been properly diagnosed because my parents didn’t think. They got me counselling for my depression- sorry- “depressive feelings” and self harm growing up, support for my anxiety, but it was never written on paper by the right people that I had those things. What, do I show employers my CAHMs reports from when I was 13? Members of my biological family also have autism, and as I’ve gotten older and lost the ability to pretend to fit in it’s become clear that I probably am too. But with waiting lists, costs, and the amount of effort it is to even get a doctor’s appointment, I doubt I’ll ever be able to get that diagnosis. I can’t get accommodations for jobs, or leeway from the Job Centre because on paper, I am fine. On paper, I should be normal. So in their eyes, and my parents’, why aren’t I?

But the most depressing factor to me is that I haven’t had the chance to try in fields I could be good in because of the brutality of the current job climate. Any role that earns over 25,000 seem to be requiring experience and skills on paper, despite the ads saying no experience required. Most flats need an income of at least 21,000 and I haven’t been able to secure a job that gets me that. I was pulling maybe 1,000 per month combined with my last two jobs. I genuinely fear I will be living with my parents until I’m 30.

I’m doing everything I can, and have been for over a year. I’m grasping at straws, sending out applications to my dream positions even if they don’t even get looked at. I’m tired, and terrified of what my future holds. I fear I’ll never be able to move out and feel the safety and security of a place I can call home and a job I love. In this day and age, a flexible job that you adore that pays well is a unicorn, the Loch Ness Monster, a pig with wings. The worst thing of all is that I know I’m not the only one who feels this way and is experiencing this. Why isn’t there more help for people like us? What is the help for people like us? Is it going to be like this forever? Is this how things are now for my generation? What about for the generations below me? I would be lying if I said I wasn’t frightened for them.