I recently had a friend of mine from a queer autistic support group ask me for advice on starting graduate school. I felt the takeaways from our conversation might be relevant to folks here. This is me elaborating on a few things I’d said:

1. As neurodivergent* human beings, transitions can be extra hard. Back to school, new job, you moved—whatever the case may be. And for those of us who struggle with emotion dysregulation, bigger life transitions can cause a level of overwhelm that tends to render our usual ways of coping largely insufficient. My advice? Be prepared for that to happen. Even if we can’t necessarily prepare for that exact moment, knowing that there will, in all likelihood, be a moment when we just “lose it” a little bit—and that our reacting that way makes sense—can help us to recover more quickly, get on with what we actually want to be doing, and reduce shame. 

2. University—at any level—is not high school. And it’s a fact that most grad students are out living full adult lives, filled with commitments, dependents, various challenges, and heavy responsibilities—some of which will occasionally interfere with their studies, despite best efforts. Professors know this and most of them do care. When I was in grad school, I had an unexpected manic episode in the middle of my program which prompted me to begin disclosing certain diagnoses more consistently to professors and colleagues, while also being more direct about what I needed in support. If I were to do it again, I probably would have done that from the start. I also took advantage of supports available for disabled students at my university, including an ADHD coach who held my hand through semesters and assignments I wasn’t sure I’d complete. So, reach out when you need support, seek the appropriate accommodations, build meaningful connections, and lean on others even if it feels hard to do so.

3. Give it a minute. Personally, I am quick to judge when a situation is too hard or something isn’t right for me. I’m typically spot on with such deductions, but when I get it wrong, it really hurts. It’s those moments that I wish I had just given a little more time or attention to, instead of running at the first sign of trouble. I’m suspicious of a good thing, but I try my best not to sabotage opportunities in the process of being a realist.

. . . . .

I write this to my fellow neurodivergents, specifically my friends with BPD, who are considering continuing their education, or even going back to school. If you’re worried that this isn’t the right path, that it will be too much, that you’re not ready, that you’ll try and fail anyways—I get it. Truly. I hope you won’t be too hard on yourself and, if this is what you really want, that you take the plunge. You might surprise yourself. I know I did.

About the Author: Jennifer is a licensed social worker and mental health advocate with lived experience of borderline personality disorder. She volunteers her time with the Lived Experience Committee because through advocacy we find that representation matters, human connection saves lives, and recovery is possible.

*Neurodivergent is not a euphemism for autism or attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). Many diagnoses found in the Diagnostic Statistical Manual (DSM) could qualify as forms of neurodiversity (ND). While experts have yet to officially recognize BPD as a neurodivergent condition, a growing body of research suggests it may fit the definition.