@AH
I'm catching up with your journal, and had a few thoughts to share.
I was chatting with an internet friend and they offhandedly mentioned that they assumed I wasn't neurotypical. This gave me pause because I've never considered myself neurodivergent (not adhd, dyslexic, depressive, on the autism spectrum, or remarkably above or below average intelligence). But the comment got me to spend a few cycles entertaining the idea that I am not neurotypical in some describable fashion, and that thought-space made me feel more free. Interesting!
Anyways, the sensation of freedom I had while temporarily holding the idea "maybe I'm neurodivergent" is something worth working with.
Congratulations! Any bump in mental freedom should be explored and savored.
Now I'm wondering how much the presence of so many labels and diagnoses in society has made me feel unconsciously obligated to act within certain bounds because I don't have an excuse (diagnosis of neurodivergence) to act outside the bounds of neurotypical behavior.
Oh, I doubt it's the prevalence of neurodivergence. Making you feel obligated to self edit is one of the highest achievements of my culture.
It seems like it would have been easier to act according to my true will if I'd been able to shrug and say "whatever, I'm X" when people threw me shade for being odd.
Well, my first thought was "Why would you think that would make
anything easier?" But then I remembered how much younger you are. Much like sexual diversity, neurodiversity has become far more acceptable in my lifetime. My second thought was "Why are you interacting with anyone who is throwing you shade?", this one seems more relevant.
The world is full of people trained to display pain at any slight difference from what they consider "right and normal".
As it was, I was made to feel like I was hurting other people and so I learned how to curb my oddities and even pretend I didn't have them.
Yup. That is their goal. And your compliance is their reward. And your compliance is
your reward, if you accept it.
@Scott 2
Devon Price provides a great discussion of the topic, in the book Unmasking Autism.
You brought this book up somewhere else, I wanted to thank you for the recommendation.
The Asperkid's Secret book of social rules is another example of this trait based discussion.
This would have been very helpful when I was a kid, but I found the "neuronormative centering" creepy, reading it as an adult.
@ertyu
+1 on diagnoses are useful because they hook you up with the right coping strategies. Even 30 years ago, the thinking around neurodivergence and the availability of support were very different. In my experience, among millenials and younger, neurodivergence is not stigmatized or pathologized and people freely talk about what adhd/autism/etc is like for them and what has been helpful. Many millenials and younger are processing the harm they've been done by parents who hid their diagnoses from them, leaving them to berate themselves for not being able to do what the other "normal" kids can do and to wonder why they can't make themselves do the thing when they -should- be able to make themselves do the thing, etcetera. Getting a diagnosis as an adult comes with a mix of relief, but also intense grief: imagine if i knew i didn't have to blame myself. Imagine what my outcomes would've been like if I had the help or medication I needed instead of rough-knuckling it and struggling so hard through life, constantly blaming myself.
I wasn't diagnosed until I was 48, and I went thru a bit of this. I have 2 autistic nephews, they were diagnosed early, and their experiences were very different from my own. In the end, I decided that an autism diagnosis as a kid would have limited my perceived choices in ways I would not have benefited from... and my grief was released.
So I'm still up in the air about the value of a diagnosis early. But I am glad there are so many resources available, now.
I have two objections to the rise of neurodivergent conditions.
1) IME, it does lead to pathologization and identification with that pathologization. It leads to limiting beliefs about oneself which often do not correspond to my concept of reality. This is a generalization and is of course not true for everyone. It is my observed experience of the many professionally or self diagnosed neurodivergent people in my personal social circle.
I agree, that is what I meant above, but as usual, you expressed it more clearly.
Based purely on statistics, I don't think it's possible for such a high percentage of people to suffer from mental health disorders that need to be medicated. Imo, this is an obvious cultural failure, not an individual problem that should be pathologized and medicated.
Of course it is possible. This is our current state of affairs. But it's worth noting how we arrived here.
I very much dislike that this discussion centers around indicators of normalcy and upholds it as a standard to aspire to.
It may be worth exploring the history and purpose of the DSM to shed some light here. From
https://motivatecounseling.com/the-dsm- ... ntroversy/:
In 1952, the APA listed homosexuality in the DSM as a sociopathic personality disturbance. Homosexuality: A Psychoanalytic Study of Male Homosexuals, a large-scale 1962 study of homosexuality, was used to justify inclusion of the disorder as a supposed pathological hidden fear of the opposite sex caused by traumatic parent–child relationships.
An influential 1974 paper by Robert Spitzer and Joseph L. Fleiss demonstrated that the second edition of the DSM (DSM-II) was an unreliable diagnostic tool. They found that different practitioners using the DSM-II were rarely in agreement when diagnosing patients with similar problems. In reviewing previous studies of 18 major diagnostic categories, Fleiss and Spitzer concluded that “there are no diagnostic categories for which reliability is uniformly high. Reliability appears to be only satisfactory for three categories: mental deficiency, organic brain syndrome (but not its subtypes), and alcoholism. The level of reliability is no better than fair for psychosis and schizophrenia and is poor for the remaining categories”.
Finally published in 1980, the DSM-III was 494 pages and listed 265 diagnostic categories. It rapidly came into widespread international use and has been termed a revolution or transformation in psychiatry. However, Robert Spitzer later criticized his own work on it in an interview with Adam Curtis, saying it led to the medicalization of 20-30 percent of the population who may not have had any serious mental problems.
When DSM-III was published, the developers made extensive claims about the reliability of the radically new diagnostic system they had devised, which relied on data from special field trials. However, according to a 1994 article by Stuart A. Kirk:
Twenty years after the reliability problem became the central focus of DSM-III, there is still not a single multi-site study showing that DSM (any version) is routinely used with high reliably by regular mental health clinicians. Nor is there any credible evidence that any version of the manual has greatly increased its reliability beyond the previous version.
Of the authors who selected and defined the DSM-IV psychiatric disorders, roughly half have had financial relationships with the pharmaceutical industry at one time, raising the prospect of a direct conflict of interest. The same article concludes that the connections between panel members and the drug companies were particularly strong in those diagnoses where drugs are the first line of treatment, such as schizophrenia and mood disorders, where 100% of the panel members had financial ties with the pharmaceutical industry.
William Glasser, however, refers to the DSM as “phony diagnostic categories”, arguing that “it was developed to help psychiatrists – to help them make money”. In addition, the publishing of the DSM, with tightly guarded copyrights, has in itself earned over $100 million for the American Psychiatric Association.
My bolding.
It seems that mental health has been
professionalized in a way that is good for the professionals, independent of the effect on patients. I suppose this is shocking to someone, but it's
exactly what I would expect of a professional association.
I don't particularly like our culture nor do I feel it was built for "people like me." I don't believe it is healthy nor do I aspire to conform to its concept of success or well-being. I don't need this culture to give me a brain diagnosis to tell me if I'm different or not. I'm not sure when or where these normal people exist. My concept of a normal person is an anxiety riddled, emotionally immature conformist. I don't know anyone who uses "normal" to describe someone in a positive sense that I want to spend time around, much less medicate myself to emulate.

Well,
yeah. But they don't like to actually
hear that!
If I may put it in math terms. The human population exists on Bell curves (many variables, mostly all Gaussian). Within that population, samples exist on other Bell Curves (different averages and standard deviations). (For example, college students have a higher IQ than the general population. The "book club" likely has a higher degree of introverts than the general population. And so on. Now, within these local environments, there's tension between who you and where the group is. We call this "fit". The worse the fit between the individual and their local environment, the harder living life is. A lot of times, this tension can be resolved by changing the environment(*).
The worse the fit, the more one wants a different environment. If one had a great deal of motivation and time, one may find that one can directly change one's own environment. Succeed at this for a while, and one may find
systemic ways of changing environments. But that is a subject for a different thread...
I'm definitely allergic to the "anxiety riddled, emotionally immature conformist" that is the typical/normal person. They make me sneeze. If only there was a drug I could give them to make them more like me...
I am also allergic to normies, but I don't want them to be like me. I want them out in the world, doing as they please; and in that way providing some definition to my boundaries, with their absence.
When I was 14, I read Ringworld by Larry Niven. Near the end of the book, there was a conversation that ended with the line "The majority is always sane".* This was, eventually, a great source of inner peace, for me. I came to accept that all the people who called me insane, were probably right. It was clear I thought very differently from everyone else, and when others tried to follow my convoluted thoughts, they were unable, uninterested, or just pained by the experience.
But I'm in the group of autists who score well on tests. So I had neutral, theoretically objective evidence, that if there is a problem, it wasn't on my end.
https://suzannewynnell.wordpress.com/ob ... or-gifted/
There was lots and lots of evidence of high IQ and oddness traveling the same path, so I assumed that was the source of my oddness.** Plenty of others came to similar conclusions, so I was given plenty of room to explore on my own.
Eventually, in my mid-teens, I learned to weaponize my oddness, using it to clear my environment of "normies". They seem more comfortable at a distance, as am I; so I subtly encourage them to maintain that distance and comfort.
This creates a space that some people find freeing and attractive. I enjoy the company of free spirits attracted to a space where the normies are MIA. If one is xenophilic, the environment one is most comfortable in will contain very few xenophobes.
I'm bringing this up here to show that outside of "normal" range is not the wasteland it is frequently portrayed as. In fact, it can be comfortable and safe in ways that simply aren't possible within the boundaries of normalcy. One may not be comfortable at my distance, but there is a full range of possibilities between me and normalcy (and many further out than I).
I would encourage anyone to explore this space, if they had the inclination.
* I can't give you a better quote, because this conversation ended a story arc. Long story short, I was given an opportunity to contemplate what it means to be born with a highly functional trait that one's culture considers a mark of insanity.
** Well, that and childhood experiences that I understood were going to cause a certain amount of warpage. Even as a child, I understood I had good reasons to expect my life to be vastly different from norms.