I was tormented by bullies, plagued by panic attacks, driven to suicide & was sectioned – then shock diagnosis saved me

GROWING up, Emily Katy always felt different. She was one of the youngest in her year but was ahead of her classmates, achieving high grades.

But she felt misunderstood and struggled to figure out how to be like everyone else.

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At 13, Emily had her first panic attack which led to a number of mental health struggles – she was diagnosed with anxiety, OCD and was even described as “hysterical”.

Just days after starting sixth form, she tried to take her own life.

Yet it would still be months before Emily, from St Albans, Herts, was finally diagnosed with autism – a moment that changed her life.

She is now a 23-year-old mental health nurse, autism advocate and author with 45,000 Instagram followers (@ItsEmilyKaty).

Here she tells her story to Sun Health with one aim – to ensure other young people who are going through what she did don’t feel alone.

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I have always felt different, and for a long time I believed that was a bad thing.

I was the youngest of the school year, yet years ahead of my classmates, reading full-length novels while they were still learning to read.

I preferred to read book after book at break time instead of playing with others. Friendships were confusing and unpredictable.

It was obvious to me that I was different, long before other children told me so.

Home was filled with love and joy, and as the eldest of three siblings, my brother and sister followed me around the house, joining in my imaginary games.

At home, I was happy. But as I went up through primary school, and found myself being bullied, things became harder.

I just wanted to fit in. I studied my peers and how they behaved, then did my best to adapt my behaviour by copying them.

I now know this is called masking — a strategy some autistic people develop to try to fit in.

Secondary school was like a minefield. There were hidden expectations, instructions I would forget the moment I’d been told them, loud corridors that made my chest feel tight and the ever-present fear of getting in trouble without meaning to.

‘Hysteric attacks’

I struggled to sleep at night, worrying about the next day.

At 13, on a school trip to Belgium, I had my first panic attack.

My grandfather had recently died, and seeing the war memorials and graveyards, on top of the blazing heat and loud students, triggered something in my brain.

Panic gripped me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, as if my body wasn’t within my control.

I felt light-headed, dizzy, and genuinely like I was about to die.

I could no longer hide my anxiety and everything I had tried to suppress was now on display for everyone to see

Emily Katy

Several times I ran away from school. I also rocked under tables in classrooms, hands over my ears because it was too loud.

I couldn’t go out with my friends — if I did, I’d have a panic attack and leave early.

I could no longer hide my anxiety and everything I had tried to suppress was now on display for everyone to see.

Intrusive thoughts intensified. I imagined bad things happening to people I loved and worried that germs would make me and my family sick.

My brain offered solutions to reduce my anxiety.

If I tapped an object a certain amount of times, then my family would be safe, or if I washed my hands enough times, then I wouldn’t get sick.

If I counteracted negative thoughts with positive ones, or punished myself for my thoughts, then all would be OK.

Obsessive compulsive disorder was taking over my life, although I didn’t know that at the time.

Despite achieving all A*s in my GCSEs and being told I had a bright future ahead of me, I was at rock bottom.

I felt like everyone hated me, though I don’t know why.

I believed that the world hadn’t been made for me, and that I couldn’t cope anymore.

Just two weeks after starting sixth form, I attempted suicide.

Following five days in general hospital, I was transferred to a Child and Adolescent Mental Health Service unit.

To cope, I wrote everything down — but three weeks after being admitted, they took my diary off me as they said that the ring binder was a prohibited item.

Meltdowns

I was so distressed — I couldn’t start a new diary because that one wasn’t finished.

After I demanded to be discharged, I was sectioned under the Mental Health Act and not allowed to leave.

I was having meltdowns — at the environment, lack of routine and strangers watching me sleep.

I now know meltdowns are a common autistic experience.

My parents met my doctor to discuss whether I could be autistic, but he said I just had “high social anxiety”.

Despite this, my notes from the unit list my triggers as change of routine, strangers, noise and lack of control — all autistic traits.

Worse, a professional wrote: “Emily has hysteric attacks when she does not get her own way.”

When I was discharged, I had diagnoses of generalised anxiety disorder and mixed personality disorder (emotionally unstable and obsessive-compulsive type).

I initially accepted these as they described perfectionism, difficulty with emotions and rigidity.

Then, six months after my discharge, in the summer of 2018, aged 16, I was diagnosed with autism and everything changed.

I was so relieved because there was a reason I felt different, and I wasn’t alone.

I wouldn’t receive my ADHD diagnosis until 2023, aged 21, but autism explained so much.

Other people struggled with my diagnosis.

My parents didn’t understand why it wasn’t noticed when I was very young.

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Emily, the eldest of three siblings, found herself being bullied[/caption]

Some of my friends’ parents didn’t think I was autistic.

I got the general sense that people thought I was too normal to be autistic.

I quickly found the online autistic community and learned there were words for my experiences, like shutdowns, alexithymia and sensory overload.

I want autistic people to know that they aren’t alone.

Emily Katy

At last, I had words to describe what went on in my head. It felt like a miracle. I began my blog, Authentically Emily, and shared my journey on social media.

Connecting with others gave me comfort and a purpose.

I was angry — at the world, at myself, at professionals, at the system. But what made me angrier was learning how others had similar journeys to me.

My anger shifted to determination to fight for change.

I became a trustee for the charity Autistic Girls Network in 2021 and qualified as a mental health nurse in 2022.

I wrote my book Girl Unmasked: How Uncovering My Autism Saved My Life, now a Sunday Times Bestseller.

I want autistic people to know that they aren’t alone.

Today I am in a much better position than I was.

 I know what I find hard and what helps me to recover.

Making time to engage with my special interests and using my weighted blanket are my most helpful tools.

Social events like hen dos, weddings and parties are difficult, but certain strategies make them easier to navigate.

I can make my own adjustments. I leave the room for ten minutes when I need a break, I wear my noise-cancelling earplugs to help me to manage sensory overload and I ask for information about what to expect in advance.

For anyone experiencing similar challenges to what I went through, please know that the future holds an infinite number of possibilities.

Identify what truly matters to you and focus on that to try to get through the hard days.

Never underestimate the power of authentic connections — whether they are online or in real life. You are not alone.

• Girl UNMASKED: How Uncovering My Autism Saved My Life – The Sunday Times Bestseller – is now available from Waterstones, Amazon and other retailers.