I remember my first day as a postgraduate, about 15 years ago at university, all was going well until the "meet and greet buffet" with students and faculty staff, which to neurotypical people is fairly normal, enjoyable even, but
for me, as a neurodivergent, was surprisingly difficult. I felt an increasing
sense of unease, of being overwhelmed. Sweaty. On the verge of panic. I hadn’t
realised just how socially awkward I was. I got through the buffet by
retreating into a safe place in my mind, and then with about four hours to
spare before the next event, as all the other students left the buffet and further mingled, I disappeared into the background, through a hole in the hedge and found the River, and walked along it as far as
I could, until the city was behind me and my vista was the opening fields of
the countryside. Like a deer escaping a predator my heart beat started
to return to normal and I could feel that I could once more breathe again.
Years later I would refer to this flight reaction as my own peculiar
‘deer-sense’.
In my mind, our animal nature is most prevalent in
our symptoms of anxiety and depression and hypervigilance, which can be more pronounced in those with neurodiversity, and which
evolved over countless millennia, even millions of years. It is these emotional
responses and alterations in our mental health that constitutes our survival
sense – that keeps us alert and safe in a dangerous world – just like a prey
animal such as the deer. We have probably all seen this when we happen across a
deer who startles and bounds away into the forest, or when we see a rabbit in
our headlights and they just freeze, or a horse that starts kicking to rid them
of their rider and saddle. Well, we do the same. We may freeze or we may run,
and in some circumstances we may fight. But we do all these things in an
animalistic way, and if we do react it will be in a frenzied, automatic,
uncontained and uncontrolled way, with one purpose; to save our life – but with
no finesse, with no exactness or accuracy and with no sense of impeccability or
precision. 
In many situations in life this fight/flight/freeze
reaction is neither helpful nor empowering; it leaves us vulnerable, ridiculed
and in a weakened position. For example, if we get called into the manager’s
office for a ‘chat’ – perhaps we haven’t done something right or we are to be
criticised – we will not be able to respond calmly or rationally if we are in
the fight / flight / freeze response; because this is a survival mechanism
which uses parts of the brain which are very animal-like in form and function –
it as if we put a wild deer in the manager’s office. That wild deer isn’t going
to be happy it’s going to try and smash the window to escape. So, if we are
feeling like that, feeling fearful of attack, it’s just not going to go well
for us, as the manager’s office is not a life or death situation, and if we
start reacting like a scared animal it’s just going to go from bad to worse. We
will act like a prey animal, we will be a rabbit in the head lights, and we
will not handle ourselves very competently. It all stems from how our brains are structured.Putting ourselves into our proper context as animals, reframes our co-relationship with the animal kingdom, even leaning us towards a Native American point of view – not seeing animals as ‘other’ and lower, and ‘us’ as higher and better, but rather as them as four-leggeds and us as two-leggeds; more like cousins in a big interlocking family than wholly different and separate.



