Chapter 2

So What the Devil is this PDA Malarkey Anyway?

It may already be occurring to you that PDA is a lot more complicated than just ‘demand avoidance’ as its ambiguous definition suggests. Demands take on various forms such as direct instruction (‘Say thank you’, ‘Do this for me’, ‘Clean your room’) or subtler forms like tacit expectations as previously discussed. Tacit demands and expectations may plague the lives of adults more than children, as adults have no round the clock supervising authority constantly urging them to do things as children do. Therefore, teeth brushing in adulthood automatically becomes a tacit demand as there’s no one there to instruct the adult with PDA to actually do it, but the fact we all know we’re probably better off brushing our teeth for reasons of health and hygiene in and of itself can become demanding. I’ve even known of adults with PDA who have put off eating, and one could argue that this begins to overlap with classic eating disorders such as anorexia.

So apart from demand avoidance what else characterises PDA? There are five other key features according to the current existing literature on the topic and these are:

• Appearing sociable, but lacking in depth and understanding.

• Excessive mood swings and impulsivity.

• Comfort in role play and pretend, sometimes to an extreme extent.

• Language delay, often with a good degree of catch up.

• Obsessive behaviour, often focused on people.

People with PDA are also more likely to give appropriate eye contact than people with other autism spectrum conditions (which is true for me now but when I was little and had very little trust for most people, looking into someone’s eyes felt like looking at the sun).

Also, unlike other parts of the spectrum, females are just as likely to be diagnosed with PDA as males are.

I wouldn’t necessarily challenge any of these points. After all, I’m sure people who know me personally would happily apply some of them to me, but as with everything there is always room for nuance; and I’d like to think that there aren’t many people out there who would deign to suggest that everyone with PDA must exhibit every trait on this list in order to qualify.

As comprehensive as it may be, this list can’t capture the whole person. It can only describe PDA in general and how a person who meets the diagnostic criteria for PDA is flawed or failing to reach a standard. But are PDA symptoms problems? Or are they only problems when viewed from a specific perspective and in a specific context? And in another context, provided they are healthy in mind and body, could these symptoms cease to be seen as problems at all? Better still, could they be seen, simply, as the person’s attributes or gifts? By school standards, children with PDA (and probably other behavioural disorders for that matter) may well appear as though they are defective ‘normal’ children when in reality they are just wired up differently (though a school environment may amplify the downsides of PDA while obscuring its merits). Some PDA children may even bestir themselves and try to reach the standard (since being themselves is not an option), but this would be exhausting and may give rise to further complications.

PDA is often described as ‘an anxiety-driven need to remain in control’. Now this pithy description (despite being more or less on the mark) is a lot more complicated than it seems. For instance, let’s imagine someone who has the all too common fear of heights. Now of course it is important for us to overcome our fears where possible, but this particular fear makes evolutionary sense as it could be crucial for our survival. Such a person may simply decline an offer to partake in activities such as skydiving or abseiling without thinking too far into it. They would be well aware of their fear and of their preference for keeping their feet firmly on the ground, as they know it is here where they’re safe. Therefore, further enquiry on their part would be bootless as they know that being up high could result in death. So by immediately declining the offer, they are forestalling fear rather than experiencing it. Let’s imagine, though, that they are forced to skydive. Moments before having to jump out of the plane, they would be sat there ashen-faced and quaking and convinced they are about to die. Any attempts to stave off fear at this point would be futile as fear is right there permeating their entire being; propelling them away from the activity they’re being forced to do. I will proceed to nauseatingly describe this typical urge to avoid as a ‘fear-based need to stay alive’.

Let’s apply the same principle to someone with PDA. While it is true that many people with PDA will experience an anxiety-driven need to remain in control upon being confronted with a demand, not all demand avoidance is necessarily adrenalin inducing. For example, someone with PDA might be asked by someone directly to do something for them. The preying demand, in this case, would be close proximity, and the PDAer needs to act fast and may resort to aggression or evasiveness to avoid it depending on how pushy, relentless or cunning the person is making the demand. This could definitely be classified as an anxiety-driven need to remain in control. Here’s an example of a different sort of demand avoidance: at most of the places I’ve ever worked, I have often decided to give myself days off here and there. Not out of fear necessarily, and not even out of boredom (which was, admittedly, usually the case anyway), it would be because the very act of going to work would sometimes prove too demanding. In order to forestall exhaustion or anxiety, and in order to remain in control or, rather (and probably most importantly), to retain my freedom, I would need to avoid the danger zone, which in this case happens to be the workplace, in order to stay alive.

It is for this reason that I prefer to describe PDA as ‘an instinctual desire to be free’ rather than ‘an anxiety-driven need to remain in control’. Alas, anxiety is still a prevailing theme of PDA, and many of its branches can in fact be traced back to the received definition as we will see during the course of this book. I believe this may be because PDAers, and many other people on the autism spectrum, feel caged in a world which does not make sense to them. Anxiety, after all, is the heart’s way of saying, ‘come back to me’.

Personally, I’ve never struggled with things like the avoidance of teeth brushing. I have always prided myself on the immaculate condition of my pearly whites, though I say so myself, and never in my life have I struggled with language delay. According to my family members, I was speaking in full sentences by the age of 11 months. So why then would these things affect others with PDA and not me? The autistic brain is a thing; however, no two autistic people are the same. What one person avoids, another may revel in. I suppose the answer to this question resides in the sanctum of the memories of my formative years, and, further still, right back to when the story of me begins. Of course, the person who knows this point in time better than anyone is my mum.