Q. sometimes i feel like drowning as a programmer that has aged. i have always been like a diy shoddy i-can-do-it type of guy, but without deep architectural background, i feel constantly like standing on shifting sand, and i always end up with atavisms like praying that things wkrk out right. i know i am not alone. but ... this feels like aloneness. and a bit of infrastructural problem within my working environment that does not exactly encourage communicating when multiple architectural decisions and groups clash. i am not the exact type of person to voice my own fears and hesitations and my own vision (as i don't have one) and it always feels like fighting alone and making terrible mistakes others will laugh at. and thus keeping to myself and being very careful with suggestions and not taking responsibilities aka ownership (but always falling prey to taking it or wanting to take it). anyway. i am venting myself.
A. What you describe is extremely common among experienced engineers, even though people rarely say it aloud. The industry tends to project an image of confident architects making crisp decisions on solid ground. In reality, a great deal of software development is done on uncertain terrain, and many capable developers quietly feel the same shifting-sand sensation you described. There are a few different things mixed together in what you wrote, and separating them sometimes helps.
- First, the illusion of architectural certainty. Many engineers assume that other people have some deep, coherent architectural worldview that they themselves lack. In practice, a lot of “architecture” is retrospective storytelling. Decisions are made under pressure, with incomplete information, and later rationalized into a tidy narrative. Even people with the title of architect frequently operate by heuristics and experience rather than by some grand theoretical map.
- Second, the loneliness of responsibility without authority. You hinted at something structural in your work environment: multiple groups making decisions, unclear communication channels, and little encouragement to discuss doubts. That situation tends to create exactly the behavior you describe. People become cautious, keep ideas to themselves, and try not to attract blame. Over time the organization unintentionally trains people to optimize for safety rather than clarity. When that happens, everyone starts feeling alone even though the problem is systemic.
- Third, the “DIY survivor” profile you mentioned. Many programmers started that way. They learned by doing, improvising, copying patterns, fixing things that broke. That path produces practical competence but sometimes leaves a lingering feeling of not having a formal conceptual foundation. The irony is that those improvisational skills are often what make someone effective in messy real environments. The feeling of inadequacy comes from comparing oneself to an imagined idealized engineer who studied everything in neat order and never doubts decisions.
- Fourth, the tension you described about ownership. Wanting to improve things but also fearing the exposure that comes with responsibility is a very human response. Ownership in environments with weak communication can easily turn into becoming the person who absorbs blame when systems collide. Many experienced developers learn to step carefully for that reason.
None of this means you are uniquely lost or doing something wrong. It means you are working in a complex socio-technical environment where uncertainty, partial knowledge, and conflicting incentives are normal. The feeling of standing on shifting sand is often a sign that you are actually seeing the situation clearly. A few small reframings sometimes help reduce the weight of that feeling.
One is to treat architecture less as a grand vision and more as local decision hygiene. Instead of needing a perfect global design, the goal becomes making the next decision slightly more explicit: writing down assumptions, clarifying boundaries, naming trade-offs. Many respected architects work that way. They do not possess a complete blueprint; they maintain a habit of making reasoning visible.
Another is remembering that most systems evolve, they are not born correct. Many widely used platforms contain layers of compromises and historical accidents. The idea that there exists a pristine architecture that competent engineers would naturally arrive at is largely a myth.
You also mentioned the fear of people laughing at mistakes. In practice, most engineers who have been around for years carry their own catalogue of design regrets. Those experiences are usually what eventually build judgment. The people who seem most certain often simply learned to hide the uncertainty.
Finally, it is worth acknowledging the emotional side. Software work requires long periods of abstract reasoning in relative isolation. When the environment discourages open discussion of uncertainty, that isolation can become heavy. Venting the way you did is actually a healthy signal that you are aware of the pressure rather than silently absorbing it.
You said you feel like you are drowning a bit. The fact that you are still curious about learning new tools, reading books, and reflecting on how systems work suggests something important: the core intellectual interest that brought you into programming is still present. That curiosity is often a better long-term asset than having had a perfectly structured architectural education.
You are definitely not the only person who feels this way, even if it often appears that way inside teams.
If you feel like continuing the conversation, I would be interested to know one thing: when you think back over your career, was there a moment or project where you actually did feel solid ground under your feet? Sometimes those moments reveal what kind of work or environment fits someone best.
Q. i guess that never. i remember with fondness the old days when i was younger and the incompetetency was kind of excused. at least i felt that way. one of the greatest downfalls was once that somebody called me on an interview which was kind of a subtle challenge, which i accepted. but they sort of rammed me into just accepting what i always felt about myself - that i am not into selling myself or my confidence, that i am as vulnerable as always and as baffled, and that's what i am. i am close to thinking about organizing group therapy within the confines of my working environment, if only more people were willing to accept that. but it seems that most people are shielded in their confidence and they don't seem to need that. given that i am autistic and am fond of drinking beers and overexposing myself, it's like a dangerous ground nobody wants to follow. or i think so.
A. What you’re describing has several layers: professional self-doubt, social dynamics at work, the memory of one or two moments that crystallized those doubts, and the extra complexity of autism and alcohol lowering the filter when you’re already feeling exposed. None of that is trivial. It’s understandable that it can leave you feeling like the only one standing in the open while everyone else seems armored.
A few observations that might help put the situation in perspective.
First, the confidence you see around you is often performative rather than structural. Many engineers adopt a tone of certainty because workplaces reward it. Interviews especially amplify that. An interview environment tends to reward people who project assurance and quick answers, not necessarily those who are careful thinkers or who openly acknowledge uncertainty. One uncomfortable interview can therefore reinforce a story about yourself that isn’t actually very representative of your abilities.
Second, the sense that others “don’t need” the kind of reflection or group processing you’re imagining is often misleading. A lot of people manage their doubts privately, or with friends outside work, or with a therapist. It doesn’t always appear in the workplace because many environments implicitly punish vulnerability. So people construct a professional persona that looks confident even when internally they are unsure.
Your instinct about group discussion or something like group therapy is interesting. In some organizations versions of that do exist, though they usually appear under different names. For example: engineering retrospectives where people can safely discuss mistakes, architecture review groups where uncertainty is normalized, informal “engineering lunches” where people talk about problems rather than solutions
The key difference is that these are framed around systems and learning, not around personal vulnerability. That framing makes them easier for people to participate in.
Third, you mentioned autism and the tendency to overexpose yourself after drinking. That combination can make professional environments feel even riskier because the usual social guardrails are weaker. Many autistic engineers describe something similar: they tend to speak very directly about doubts or internal states, while others communicate those things more indirectly. The mismatch can make it feel like you’re revealing something abnormal when in fact you’re just expressing uncertainty more plainly than most people do.
One practical boundary that might help protect you is separating two contexts:
• professional reflection (design reasoning, trade-offs, uncertainty about systems)
• personal vulnerability (how you feel about yourself, fears, identity)
Both are legitimate, but workplaces are usually much safer for the first than the second. Saving the deeper personal discussions for trusted friends, peer groups, or therapy often leads to better outcomes than trying to process them in the workplace itself.
Fourth, the idea that you have “always been baffled” might actually reflect something else: a high sensitivity to complexity. Some people can hold a simplified model of a system and feel confident quickly. Others keep noticing edge cases, interactions, and unknowns. The second type often experiences more doubt but can also become very careful engineers. The internal feeling is “I never fully understand this,” but the external effect is often that you avoid mistakes others might make.
Finally, the exhaustion you hinted at earlier is important. When someone has been operating for years under a background narrative of “I’m probably the least competent person in the room,” it consumes a lot of mental energy. That can make curiosity and learning feel heavier than they used to. The fact that you’re still exploring new ideas and frameworks suggests you haven’t lost the intellectual side of the craft, even if the emotional side feels rough.
If you ever do want some form of shared reflection at work, a safer starting point than “group therapy” might be something like a technical discussion circle. For example, a small voluntary session where people bring a design problem or a past mistake and explain what they learned. When framed as learning about systems rather than exposing personal insecurities, many engineers actually enjoy that kind of environment.
And outside work, having a space where you can talk openly about the personal side (including alcohol, autism, and the feeling of exposure) can make a big difference. Those conversations often go much better in settings where people expect that level of honesty.
You’re not unusual for having these thoughts; you’re just expressing them very directly. Many people carry similar doubts but keep them behind the professional mask.
If you want to continue exploring this, I’m curious about one thing that sometimes reveals a lot: when you are programming alone, working through a difficult problem step by step, do you still feel that same sense of inadequacy, or does it mainly appear when the social layer of engineering (reviews, meetings, interviews, organizational politics) enters the picture?
Q. i am often very confident and sometimes even too assertive and adventurous when i am working alone - that's why i ended up mostly working alone or clearly confined to a certain private domain my whole life
A. What you’re describing actually fits a pattern many people experience—especially people who are both highly capable alone and very self-aware in social settings. The contrast can feel sharp: when you’re by yourself or in your own domain, your thinking is clear, assertive, even adventurous; when the situation becomes socially evaluative (interviews, group dynamics, selling yourself), a different set of pressures appears. A few things seem intertwined in what you wrote:
1. The “transactional” environment problem
Many modern workplaces—especially interviews and internal politics—run on a transactional model of confidence:
- People signal certainty, even when uncertain.
- They “sell” competence through performance and narrative.
- Vulnerability is usually managed carefully rather than shown openly.
If you’re someone who values authentic expression over performance, those spaces can feel artificial or even hostile. It’s not that you lack competence; it’s that the rules of the game are about presentation, not just substance. That interview moment you described sounds painful because it forced a kind of identity collapse: you felt pushed into confirming a narrative about yourself (“I’m not someone who sells confidence”) instead of being evaluated on the actual work you do.
2. The “solo competence” pattern
What you described—being strong, confident, even adventurous when working alone—is extremely common among:
- many autistic professionals
- researchers, engineers, artists
- people who rely on deep focus rather than constant social calibration
When the environment is structured and internally controlled, cognitive load is lower and your real strengths show up. When the environment becomes socially ambiguous, the brain has to process:
- interpretation of other people’s signals
- impression management
- implicit rules
- power dynamics
That’s exhausting even for neurotypical people; for autistic people it can be dramatically more draining. So retreating into a “private domain” of work is often a practical adaptation, not a failure.
3. The vulnerability gap you’re noticing
You also mentioned something interesting: the idea of group therapy at work or open discussion about vulnerability. Your intuition there isn’t strange. In fact, in organizational psychology there’s a concept called psychological safety (from Amy Edmondson’s research). Teams perform better when people can admit uncertainty or mistakes without social punishment. But here’s the catch:
- Most people do feel vulnerable internally.
- They just don’t show it openly in professional contexts.
So it can create the illusion that everyone else is confidently shielded.
4. Alcohol and overexposure
You mentioned drinking beer and overexposing yourself. That’s also a recognizable pattern: alcohol can temporarily lower the social filtering barrier, making honesty come out faster and stronger than the environment expects. The risk is that workplaces tend to remember disclosures but forget context, which can leave you feeling exposed afterward.
5. The deeper strength I’m hearing
Despite the struggles you describe, there are a few strong traits in what you wrote:
- self-reflection (many people never examine themselves this deeply)
- authenticity (you’re not comfortable performing a fake persona)
- independent competence
- curiosity about collective wellbeing (the group therapy idea)
Those are not weaknesses. They just don’t always align with how corporate environments reward behavior.
One reframing that sometimes helps
Instead of thinking: “I’m bad at selling myself.” Another framing is: “My strengths appear in environments where substance matters more than performance.” That often means:
- research roles
- specialized technical work
- consulting where results speak loudly
- independent or semi-independent structures
One thing I’m curious about
When you said that interview pushed you into accepting a negative view of yourself, I wonder: Did the interviewer challenge you directly, or did it feel more like the situation itself exposed something you were trying not to admit? Those two situations lead to very different interpretations of what actually happened.
Q. i was challenged directly. but i recognize that this was to be expected, given that i was not prepared for that level of thoroughness. but i recognized that i was challenged, maybe even because of the fact that i was unprepared or overtly easy-going in face of the importantness of that interview (maybe it was not for me, but it was for them, and they did a thorough work of assessing my input, both previous and the input on that day)
A. It sounds like you’re looking at that situation with a lot of honesty now, and that’s actually a sign of good reflective ability, not incompetence. What you describe about the interview is very typical of high-stakes evaluation settings. In many interviews, especially technical or senior ones, interviewers deliberately apply pressure to see a few things:
- how someone reacts when challenged
- whether they defend their reasoning
- how they handle uncertainty or mistakes
- how they perform under scrutiny
So the fact that you were directly challenged doesn’t necessarily mean they thought poorly of you. Sometimes it means the opposite: they saw something worth probing. Where it became painful for you seems to be this mismatch:
- You approached it in an easy-going, exploratory way.
- They approached it as a structured evaluation.
When those two mindsets meet, it can feel like being suddenly put on trial.
Preparation vs authenticity
Another thing I notice is that you’re interpreting the event partly as “I confirmed my weakness in selling myself.” But interviews often reward prepared narratives, not raw authenticity. Many candidates rehearse things like:
- how to frame their experience
- how to justify decisions
- how to respond to challenges
That preparation can look like confidence, but it’s often just practice with the format.
Someone who prefers to think things through live, or who approaches discussions more intellectually than strategically, can easily feel caught off guard.
Your easy-going approach
What you described—being relaxed about the interview because it wasn’t existential for you—is actually a double-edged sword:
Advantages
- less anxiety
- more natural thinking
- less desperation
Risks
- the other side may interpret it as lack of seriousness
- you might not mobilize your strongest arguments quickly
None of that means your actual competence is lower. It just means the interaction format favored a different style.
The deeper theme in what you’re saying
Across your messages I hear a consistent pattern:
- You’re strong when working independently.
- You’re very honest about your internal state.
- Social evaluation environments can make you feel exposed or misread.
A lot of people—particularly people who think analytically or are on the autism spectrum—run into this same tension. The workplace often rewards presentation confidence, while your instinct is toward intellectual honesty. Those two are not mutually exclusive, but they take practice to combine.
One small reframing
Instead of seeing that interview as proof of a flaw, you could also view it as data about the environment:
- They ran a rigorous assessment.
- You saw what kind of interaction they expect.
- You learned how your natural style behaves under that pressure.
That’s information you can use later if you want to adapt—or decide that certain environments simply aren’t worth adapting to.
Something I’m curious about
You mentioned spending much of your life working in a private domain or alone. Was that mostly by choice because you preferred it, or did it gradually happen because group environments kept producing experiences like the interview you described?
Q. i guess both. very often, when working with someone, i faced challenge, or fake submissivness because of my age and more senior position, but challenge nevertheless (someone would say that this is a perceived challenge - and i acknowledge that i am a bit of a ptsd type, and i know that you, or anyone else, would not burst into invalidating my experience, but... they would naturally, sometimes, mostly.. that's my perception..
A. What you’re describing is actually a very subtle interpersonal loop that many people run into, especially when they are both senior and very perceptive of social signals. A few dynamics might be overlapping here.
1. “Fake submissiveness” is a real workplace behavior
What you called fake submissiveness is something organizational psychologists often describe as surface deference:
- Someone outwardly agrees or appears respectful.
- But internally they are skeptical, competitive, or resisting.
This happens for many reasons:
- hierarchy pressure
- fear of conflict
- career self-protection
- cultural norms about respecting senior people
So your perception of that pattern isn’t automatically wrong. Many workplaces run on exactly that kind of polite tension. The tricky part is that when you’re sensitive to these signals, you start detecting them very quickly, sometimes even before the other person consciously realizes what they’re doing.
2. The “challenge radar”
You mentioned being “a bit of a PTSD type.” People who have had repeated stressful or adversarial interactions often develop a very strong challenge radar. That radar can do two things simultaneously:
Helpful side
- you notice subtle shifts in tone
- you detect power moves early
- you respond quickly
Costly side
- ambiguous signals can feel like threats
- neutral disagreement can feel like personal challenge
- you may stay slightly “on guard”
The key thing is that the radar itself isn’t irrational—it’s usually built from real past experiences.
3. Seniority creates invisible tension
Another factor you hinted at: age and senior position. When someone works with a more senior person, several things can happen internally:
- They want to prove themselves.
- They feel evaluated even if you aren’t evaluating them.
- They may test boundaries.
That can produce behavior that feels contradictory:
- respectful on the surface
- challenging underneath
You might simply be seeing that contradiction clearly.
4. The self-doubt loop
You also did something very interesting in your message: you pre-emptively questioned your own perception. You basically said: maybe it's just my perception.
That’s actually a very sophisticated cognitive move. It means you’re aware of two possibilities simultaneously: The challenge is real. My interpretation could be influenced by past stress. Many people operate in only one of those modes. But the downside of holding both is that it can create a constant internal uncertainty: “Am I accurately reading this situation or overreacting?”
5. One important thing about validation
You said something thoughtful: I know you or anyone else wouldn’t burst into invalidating my experience. That instinct is important. Experiences don’t need to be objectively proven to be psychologically real. What matters more is:
- how those experiences shaped your expectations
- how they affect your interactions now
6. A possible interpretation of your work style
Putting everything together, it makes sense that you gravitated toward working independently or within a clearly defined domain. That environment removes several stressors:
- ambiguous hierarchy signals
- social maneuvering
- constant interpretation of others’ motives
It lets you focus on the work itself, where your confidence seems much stronger.
One thing I’m wondering
From the way you describe things, it sounds like you have very strong internal standards for honesty and directness. So when people act strategically, guardedly, or politically, it might feel almost like a distortion of communication. Does that resonate with you? In other words: is the hardest part sometimes not the challenge itself, but the sense that people aren’t being straightforward about what they actually think or want?
Q. i know that this happens. i sometimes might do that myself. it is just the inevitability and the crassness of the situation. it's the fact of devaluation of myself, and the theater aspect of human interaction, especially in work-related circles. kind of a putting off thing.
A. What you’re describing touches on something many thoughtful people eventually notice about professional life: a lot of interaction has a theatrical layer. People manage impressions, signal status, protect themselves, and negotiate value—often indirectly. When you become very aware of that layer, it can feel crass, artificial, or devaluing, exactly as you said. A few things in your description stand out.
1. The “theater” isn’t necessarily about you
When interactions feel devaluing, it’s easy to experience them as a judgment about your worth. But a large portion of workplace theater is actually about everyone protecting their own position:
- junior people trying to show competence
- peers trying not to lose status
- managers trying to maintain authority
- organizations trying to reduce risk
So the behavior can look like someone diminishing you, when in many cases it’s their own anxiety or positioning playing out. That doesn’t make it pleasant—but it does mean the signal about your value is often much weaker than it feels in the moment.
2. Awareness removes the illusion
There’s also a psychological shift that happens once you see the performative aspect of social systems. When you’re younger, interactions can feel more straightforward: people say things, you take them at face value. Later you start noticing:
- politeness that masks disagreement
- praise used strategically
- subtle status negotiations
Once you see those patterns, it’s hard to unsee them. For some people that leads to cynicism; for others it just creates a constant background sense that part of the conversation is scripted. That can make environments that rely heavily on that script feel draining.
3. Your reaction is actually a values signal
Your discomfort with the “theater” suggests you probably value things like:
- directness
- substance over performance
- honest intellectual exchange
Those values tend to fit best in certain kinds of environments:
- small expert teams
- research groups
- technical collaborations
- independent work structures
In environments built around competition, hierarchy signaling, or internal politics, that mismatch becomes more visible.
4. The inevitability part
You also acknowledged something important: you know you sometimes participate in that behavior yourself. That recognition usually means you’re seeing the system, not just blaming individuals. Social coordination among humans almost always involves some degree of role-playing. The problem isn’t that it exists—it’s when it becomes so dominant that it overshadows the actual work or ideas.
5. A useful mental stance some people adopt
Some people who are sensitive to this “theater” manage it by treating it almost like a translation layer, not as the core reality. In other words:
- the real thing: the work, the ideas, the competence
- the translation layer: the social rituals around it
They engage with the rituals just enough to keep things functioning, but they don’t take them as statements about their personal value. That shift can sometimes reduce the feeling of devaluation.
One thing I’m curious about, because it changes how people handle this: When you work completely within your own domain, do you mostly feel relief and clarity—or do you sometimes miss the collaborative side of working with others despite the frustrations?
Q. yes, very much - i miss the collaborativeness. it is just that often it seems that i cannot take the stress of taking all the things you said into account (or i am too lazy - okay i am.just teasing you - ever doubting)
A. What you’re describing doesn’t sound like laziness at all. It sounds much more like cognitive load.
When collaboration works well, it’s energizing: ideas bounce, people build on each other, things move faster. But the version of collaboration you’re describing requires keeping track of many layers at once:
- the actual work or idea
- the social dynamics
- possible status signals
- how your words might be interpreted
- whether someone is being direct or strategic
- how to respond without escalating tension
That’s a lot of simultaneous processing. For someone who is reflective and sensitive to nuance, that load can become exhausting quickly. When that happens, the brain naturally prefers environments where fewer variables are in play—like working independently. So the conflict you’re feeling is quite understandable:
- Intellectually and emotionally, you want collaboration.
- Neurologically and practically, too much social complexity becomes draining.
That’s not uncommon, especially among people who do deep analytical work or who are on the autism spectrum.
The “ever doubting” part
You also joked about doubting yourself. That pattern showed up several times in your messages:
- you state an observation
- then immediately question whether your perception is distorted
That’s actually a form of metacognition—thinking about your own thinking. It’s usually associated with people who are quite intellectually careful. The downside is that it can produce a constant internal dialogue like: Is this real? Am I overinterpreting? Am I being unfair? Many people who seem socially confident simply don’t run that internal check as often.
A middle ground that sometimes works
Some people in your situation eventually find that collaboration becomes manageable when the social structure is simpler, for example:
- working with one or two trusted collaborators rather than large groups
- working with people who value direct communication
- collaborating around clearly defined technical problems rather than ambiguous organizational discussions
In those cases the “theater” layer tends to shrink a lot.
Something important in what you said
Despite everything, you still miss collaboration. That suggests the social difficulties haven’t made you cynical or closed off—they’ve just made the environment harder to tolerate. That’s actually a good sign psychologically. It means the underlying motivation to connect intellectually with others is still very much there.
I’m curious about one thing
When you think back to your career, were there one or two collaborations that actually worked well—where the stress was low and the exchange felt genuine? Those moments can sometimes reveal the exact conditions under which collaboration becomes energizing instead of draining.
Q. yes, definitely, that's the pattern of my work - a very few trusted persons i feel no danger from
A. That fits perfectly with the broader picture you’ve been describing. You’re someone who thrives in focused, low-risk collaboration rather than large, ambiguous social settings. A few trusted collaborators create a kind of safe zone, where your natural confidence and curiosity can flow without being drained by the constant “translation layer” of social theater.
That’s actually a very common pattern among people who are highly competent but sensitive to social signals: the people who perform best are often not the ones in large open teams, but those in small trusted dyads or triads. In those settings, you can collaborate freely, exchange ideas honestly, and actually feel the energizing side of teamwork instead of the exhausting surveillance/ritual side.
The challenge is that modern workplaces often don’t structure around those patterns, which is why it feels like you’re constantly compensating when you’re in bigger or more performative groups. Recognizing this pattern is a strength—it helps you intentionally create or seek environments where you can thrive rather than trying to force yourself to adapt to every high-pressure social layer.
If you want, I can outline some practical ways to maximize that safe collaboration pattern at work while minimizing exposure to draining theater.
Q. haha (intentionally), apply all that to my affairs with the female sex (my preference). (but i've ran out of my credits) (but i enjoyed the help with introspection...) (thanks)
A. I get the parallel, and it makes sense—what you’ve described with work maps surprisingly neatly to personal relationships. The same dynamics appear: (... a bit generic stuff follows - anyway, I meant to close the discussion with an almost rhetoric question)
