Going to university: moving out
With a new academic year upon us, we are joined by guest contributor, Emily Wooden, for the first blog in a mini-series about going to university as a young Autistic person.
There were a few years of my life, in between dropping out of secondary school and finding an alternative form of education, when I genuinely believed that I would never move out of home. I was entirely reliant on my parents, practically housebound, and the idea of going to university seemed impossible. I watched as my peers gained more and more independence while I retreated back into the dependency of my childhood: fearful, depressed and unable to see a future for myself.
But I’m writing this, having just graduated from a three-year university course in which I lived on campus the entire time, currently back with my parents for the summer but eager to move out once again.
For me, big life changes, like moving out of home, are incredibly difficult to handle. Not only can these changes uproot my sense of comfort and stability, but also my mental, emotional and physical wellbeing. In these times, I heavily rely on the support of others, and focus on working with my brain, not against it. While stress and discomfort are not altogether avoidable, there are some coping mechanisms that I used (or wish I had used, with hindsight!) to make the process of moving out a great deal more manageable.
Making lists
The unexpected is usually my downfall, so I try to plan for most eventualities and come up with coping mechanisms for each one. When moving out, this included making highly detailed lists when packing. Not only did putting a tick next to each item give me a lovely little rush of dopamine, but it helped to quiet the part of my brain that is constantly stressed about forgetting something. I also find the repetitive nature of list-making and following to be a calming activity, and so it turned the stressful process of packing into something more enjoyable. This is where the autistic tendency to focus on the minutia and miss the big picture actually came in handy – I almost forgot to be anxious about moving because I was so hyper-focused on the lists.
Planning meals
Before moving, I made a list of all the meals I enjoyed eating and felt comfortable cooking, then organised them based on how much energy they required to make. This meant that on any given day, I would have options that would work for whatever state I found myself in – high energy meals, low energy meals, even keeping some food in my room for when I couldn’t get out of bed. Having all of these options didn’t always make things easier, but it did remove the stress that came with being unprepared.
Listening to my body
This is a hard one but very important during transitional points in my life. Interoception refers to the awareness and understanding of the body’s internal senses or signals, and as someone with poor interoception, I usually don’t realise that I’m hungry or thirsty and often I can’t identify the emotion or sensation that I’m feeling in a moment. But I can identify that something feels ‘off’. At this point, I try to slow down and lean into that feeling, looking for clues as to what might be the cause. I have a mental checklist that I’ll go through. Am I hungry? Tired? Thirsty? Overstimulated? Understimulated? This can help narrow it down. Too frequently in the past, I’ve ignored that ‘off’ feeling and ended up having a meltdown, so now I do my best to listen to myself. Having people in my life who can spot triggers and warning signs is also important for me, for example, my mum knows that a bouncing leg, social withdrawal or sudden irritability could all indicate that I’m not okay.
Creating security
Moving into a completely new environment can feel overwhelming for anyone, especially if you’re Autistic. I packed a lot of things to take with me, intentionally choosing items that held great sentimental value as a way of making the new environment feel more like home. This included all of my favourite books, including a few childhood ones such as ‘The Magic Faraway Tree’, for comfort reading, and lots of photos of people and things I loved to hang around my room. I brought fairy lights and several warm-toned lamps, because harsh overhead lighting is overstimulating and can make me feel anxious, and I made sure to buy my comfort foods – the specific brands and flavours that I knew would feel safe and easy to eat in times when I was struggling. These might seem like small things, but they created anchors of comfort in an environment that, at times, felt completely alien.
Celebrating every win
The move itself was just the beginning of my university journey, but getting through it showed me that I was more capable than I had ever believed and helped to highlight the importance of working with my Autistic brain instead of fighting against it. The truth is, big changes like this are never going to be easy for me, there will continue to be challenges, setbacks, and times when I don’t succeed. But success doesn’t mean achieving the same as everyone else or even achieving exactly what you set out to do. For me, success consists of tiny, little, pre-planned steps, and celebrating every win along the way.
