Imagine feeling trapped behind a glass curtain looking at the world as though you are on the outside.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t pull that curtain back.

That’s what life is like for Duncan Honeybourne, 36, who lives with autism.

The Weymouth pianist is giving a talk on the condition next Saturday.

It is hard to believe that this accomplished musician, a regular in the arts pages of the Dorset Echo, is so in thrall to autism.

He wants to raise more awareness and let the estimated 7,500 people in Dorset living with autism and their families and friends know they are not alone.

At school, Duncan, who also has mild cerebral palsy, realised he was different to the other children.

He said: “I was rather prone to being noticed.

“I would walk on my tip-toes as a lot of people with cerebral palsy and with autism do.

“It was difficult for me to see how other people saw me when I was a child.

“I wanted so badly to fit in. From the beginning I remember feeling like I was floating in my own little world and other people were behind a glass curtain.

“I could observe people talking to each other but I couldn’t cross that divide and get into their world.

“It left me with an explanation that I was not wanted in the world and that I was a bit of a reject.

“I struggled with the subtleties of human interaction – autistic people are not very good at picking up on idioms, implied messages and aspects of sarcasm.”

Duncan, who attended Radipole and Wey Valley School in Weymouth, could handle the structured timetable of lessons at school but would fall apart during breaktimes and lunchtimes.

“I felt so anxious because it was a time when you had to talk to people and there were no instruction manuals on that. I was extremely disruptive as a result,” he said.

The situation got so bad that Duncan’s family moved house so he could come home for lunch.

His talent for music was his salvation.

“I retreated into a world of music. What saved me from becoming a very lonely and lost person was the fact that I was very good at playing the piano.”

Duncan was eventually diagnosed with autism at the age of 22.

So bad were Duncan’s social anxieties and everyday confusion that his parents moved to Worcestershire so he could commute to the Birmingham Conservatoire.

Autism also causes him a number of sensory issues and he has to wear trousers with a silk lining which dulls the sensation of the material.

Duncan also experiences anxiety and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and at times finds it hard to leave the house.

He said: “Autistic people have a sort of ‘mind-blindness’, but if you are intelligent and perceptive you can learn – painstakingly and by endless copying – to give a good impression of being ‘normal’.

He said: “If people think of what it’s like to take their final exams or their driving test, it is like that for me every day facing the world.

“I find it very difficult to take a holiday because I worry about being in a different environment.”

Duncan says he is ‘lucky’ to be abIe to work as a piano teacher.

“Other high-functioning autistics struggle to hold down jobs in a competitive and socially complex office culture, but I’m fortunate that in my field I can dictate the social pace of my work and that I work largely independently.

“I’ve been taught how to make eye contact with people and encouraged to devise strategies to deal with stressful situations.

“I’ve worked to find ways out of emotional tangles I get myself into, and to deal with my ever-present OCD.

“Being honest about my condition with friends and colleagues helps, as does learning to accept my limitations.”

Autistic labels are sometimes used incorrectly, he said.

“People often say ‘he’s a bit Asperger’s’ if someone is socially inept.

“The person being referred to might indeed be on the spectrum, but they may very well not, and this kind of usage detracts from proper understanding of the true – and much subtler – nature of the condition.

“Autism for me is a disability. I sometimes hear it described as ‘a gift’, but but that’s rubbish, if I wasn’t autistic I’d still have been a musician, but I’d have been less restricted in my life and career.

“What’s difficult for me is that I need care on emotional and practical levels in order to get through life.

“People who see me seeming to function well struggle to understand what is behind the mask and to comprehend that I’ll never be able to live independently and without a certain amount of support.

“I’ve been lucky because if I had less loving parents I think I would have gone off the rails and ended up in an institution.

“I get quite confused and get muddled about the things people say to me. That gets very tiring.

“I do find relationships very confusing and stressful and I often don’t realise I’m getting stressed to breaking point; and then I need someone to recognise that I’m struggling and to tell me when to take a break.”

Duncan has given talks to autism support groups and conferences throughout the country and is patron of two autistic charities.

He said: “People have said to me that me talking about my life and how I see the world helps them to understand better what their children are going through.

“I’ve found it hard to see how me talking about my life helps other people but I suppose it’s opening the door for people and helping them to piece things together.”

*An Evening with Duncan Honeybourne – a talk on living with autism with a musical interlude is on Saturday, October 18, at Emmanuel Church, Southill, Weymouth at 7.15pm.

Entry is free but donations to Autism Wessex would be much appreciated. Refreshments will be provided.