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dropintomanga · 2 years ago

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“My Brain Is Different” - Personal, To the Point and Much Needed

“These kids aren’t trouble. They’re in trouble and need our help.”

I’m so happy that I got a chance to check out Monzusu’s “My Brain Is Different: Stories of ADHD and Other Developmental Disorders.” While very heavy at times since the book forced me to look at my own experiences, I appreciate the various takes on how to handle mental conditions that are looked upon with ignorance.

There’s 9 different personal stories from Japanese people who have a developmental disorder and/or is close to someone who does have one. I’m going to go over every story with some thoughts.

Terms discussed here (ADHD = attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder, ASD = autism spectrum disorder, LD = learning disability)

Monzusu (ADHD, 30s’) - The author herself. She talks about her childhood and her hyperactive mind. She never understood why she wasn’t able to be a “normal” person as she was always trying things and then quitting when things get too rough. When she got married and had a child who would later be diagnosed with ADHD, Monzusu then starts to figure things out once she knew her condition. I think this was a good start for what’s to come. I can relate to Monzusu’s apathy in her early days because I get so mentally overwhelmed that I really don’t want to do anything, but I know I have to do something.

Highroad (ASD/ADHD, Depression, ‘30s) - A man who never felt he could interact with people after high school and resorted to being a shut-in. He went to see a psychiatrist who would give him medication. Even after taking it, Highroad never genuinely improved and even attempted suicide after some time. It wasn’t until he got an official diagnosis and some help from a social service program that he found some consistent employment that he can handle.

I see myself quite a bit in Highroad. I went to a psychiatrist after I thought about suicide. I got medication and it never really helped. Also, Highroad comments about doing work that he can handle without any pressure. I struggle to do jobs that involve managing people in a team. There’s also another bit where he talks about interacting with people with mental disabilities and how he still feels out of place because they’re too different. I find myself in that gray zone (which is a recurring theme in the book) where I’m not mentally well, but not on the extreme end. I’m stuck in-between and out of place in the spectrum of things.

Also, finding a workplace that understands your mental condition is so important (even though having that kind of conversation is hard).

Iku (ASD/ADHD, Depression, ‘20s) - This story is somewhat similar to Highroad’s. He struggled with interactions with other people ever since he was a child. As Iku got older, he couldn’t handle things and resorted to suicide twice. It wasn’t until he got an official diagnosis and better medication that his life turned around.

I don’t know how I feel about this story as Iku says some things I’m not sure I’m comfortable with. The medication sounds too good at its job and he talks about how he still doesn’t have any friends and his emotions are somewhat numb. But he is getting by and he says a really important thing that I finally grasped myself after a long time - he’s learned to not hate himself at the very least.

Hanako and her son, Tarou (ASD, Teens) - A mother talks about her struggles raising a child with ASD when everyone around her seems to be misunderstanding of her son’s condition. Hanako tries her absolute best to raise Tarou in a way where he can take care of himself and be respectful to those around him. When Tarou starts struggling with his schoolwork in junior high, he becomes disgruntled. It isn’t until he has a welcoming homeroom teacher and smart peers that he becomes better at learning. Tarou becomes the good and earnest kid that his mother wanted.

I love Hanako and her husband for being fighters for Tarou all the way. But I love how school saved Tarou. A lot of times, school is awful because of the multiple hierarchies there. Tarou talks about how being around smart people made him want to try and find similar folks like them. While Hanako does wonder if that’s the right approach, it does help Tarou get by, right?

Parents shouldn’t be the only ones fighting for their child. It really takes a village.

Matsubokkuri (ASD/ADHD/LD, Schizophrenia, ‘40s) - A woman with a very rough past tries to take care of her ailing mother. As a child, MB was considered too intelligent to the point that she was alienated by everyone around her. It did not help that her parents fought with each other all the time and her siblings didn’t seem to get along either. She went out to take on various jobs with no ambition. At the age of 28, MB was asked to come home to take care of her mother. While the two talked it out and MB stayed for years, finances became super-tight and it became a struggle to survive. Burnout happened to MB and she had to quit her job to become a full-time caregiver. It didn’t help that her mother ends up in an accident at home one day. MB blames herself for it as she went to get a eating utensil for her mother, who was struggling to sit down at her chair and then slipped and fell. MB’s younger brother stops by to tell MB that she might have a developmental disorder. MB finds out that she does and decides to figure things out for herself at the age of 46 while leaving her mother in the care of medical professionals.

This was a lot to take in. I think reading MB’s story generated some fear about my ability to take care of my parents when they can’t do anything anymore. I’m approaching 40 myself and it feels like I have some things I still need to figure out too. Awful family history always seems to have a way to project itself in the worst times, but I hope MB finds some peace with her life now - whatever it may be.

Mamu (ADHD, Depression, 30s’) - A young woman who always seemed to make many mistakes and felt like she wasn’t trying hard enough. She felt that she didn’t have a developmental disorder for the longest time as she was great at school when she was a child. But after going through a serious case of depression and getting an official diagnosis with medical help, Mamu realizes that she really was trying her best. She manages to find work that doesn’t force her to multitask (one of her “flaws”) and allows her to make clear and concrete lists of what tasks she needs to do.

Mamu cries when she realizes she’s trying her best. I want to cry too because I sometimes feel like I’m not doing enough. Maybe I only had one person who said that I was doing the best I could. Mamu does talk about disability employment programs and I wonder back then, if I could have used that to help me during a time when I needed it. Those programs would have made me realize certain truths that I only now just know.

Risa (LD, ‘20s) - A young woman who has a somewhat overbearing mother. When Risa’s mother learns that Risa has a learning disability, she tries her best to make sure Risa studies hard. However, Risa still struggles in school and even gets bullied in junior high. Risa’s mother later realizes that Risa should just focus on practical life skills rather than standardized education. As time goes on, Risa starts to focus less on school and more about going out to work to support her mother. The two still argue about how Risa should live her life, but there appears to be a more mutual understanding as Risa shows that she can still function for herself.

Recently, I was with my mother who accompanied me to an eye doctor. The eye doctor, who I knew for a very long time, said that my mom seems to worry about me a lot. He said that I looked capable of handling things for myself. I did joke there’s some half-truth to what she says. My mother was always trying to support me the best way she could, but she sometimes feels that my brain is different (pun intended). I’m trying to prove her wrong a bunch, but I later realize that my mom has been letting me figure things out for myself. So yeah, Risa and her mom’s relationship is something I totally get.

Yuuto (ASD, Adjustment Disorder/Depression, ‘30s) - A loving wife who has to deal with her husband and daughter sharing the same developmental disorder. Because of their disorders, Yuuto (the husband) becomes enraged at her daughter when she does something that appears to irritate him. The daughter, Rin, gets irritated the same way. Cat-Paw Punch (the wife) tries to figure out a solution as both don’t know how to accept their conditions. Cat-Paw Punch learns about positive reinforcement and uses it to get through to Yuuto and Rin. They’re a happy family in the end despite not being a “normal” one.

I love this story. There’s a part where Cat-Paw Punch tells Yuuto to stop hitting Rin or get divorced. I know people with developmental disorders can’t help their behaviors, but they shouldn’t be enabled to continue them if they’re harmful. Even caretakers need boundaries. A lot of caretakers forget this.

Yoshiko (ASD, Anxiety Disorder, Bipolar Disorder, ‘40s) - A woman with comorbidities who started off being a mess as a child. She always felt that she needed to be a proper child, but couldn’t. It wasn’t until junior high that a homeroom teacher convinced her to be more confident about herself. Yoshiko gets through high school and college and manages to get a job teaching kids with disabilities. It is there where she realizes that even though her childhood wasn’t great, she can use her experiences to help those whose experiences mirrored hers.

There’s a powerful moment in this story where Yoshiko struggles with volunteer work. She felt forced to do it as part of her college coursework. When she starts to struggle with volunteer work, her college counselor tells her it’s okay to quit when it’s not working. Yes, many adults tell you to never give up. But as they say, there’s a difference between courage and stupidity. It’s okay to give up on certain things as life happens. You can’t do everything despite what the life-hack industry tells you.

Also, the above quote at the start of this post is from this story. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the kids and even if things are really, really bad, they really need the help of others.

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There’s a nice conclusion from Monzusu about her discoveries about those living with developmental disorders. She wishes that one day, we’ll have a world where tools that help deal with developmental disorders are considered normal. I totally agree. I also started to feel that developmental disorders are real and honest reactions to adverse conditions caused by outside factors combined with genetics. Unfortunately, because of cultural standards and hierarchies, anyone living with them is considered ill and not worth anyone’s time.

I do like that there’s people who are okay with having developmental disorders even though there’s people who hate them. I think the most important thing to take from this book is that we need more personal tales from those living with all kinds of mental conditions. A concern I have of mine is when celebrities talk about having some kind of developmental condition and what not. While it’s nice that they share their diagnosis, it hasn’t really moved the needle for mental health system improvement in America. Also, celebrities have resources regular people do not have like amazing access to people who will help them at the drop of a bat. It’s hard to learn from them honestly. Most people with developmental disorders and mental illness are just like the ones featured in Monzusu’s book.

So yeah, read this manga. I’m all for a patient/consumer view of things because it’s either the experts (professionals/activists) or famous people who have a say. Our brains may be different, but what we have in common is that our voices are just lost in the gray zone in the advocacy side of things often and that reeks of a systemic developmental disorder that needs to be addressed.

Anime Feminist has an amazing post about Monzusu’s manga, so go read that too!

#My Brain Is Different #ADHD #ASD #Depression #mental health #developmental disorders #manga #Monzusu #learning disability #mental illness

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probably-enjolras · 3 years ago

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r.e. disabled les amis headcanons: omg please add yours

yay someone wants to hear mine! some of this will be projection on my part. i’m disabled myself, i need a cane to walk because of a condition called Amplified Musculoskeletal Pain Syndrome (AMPS) which is very similar to fibromyalgia. i’m also going to include some neurodivergent and mental illness headcanons, but i know some people don’t consider those disabilities, but from my own experience with them, i do, so that’s why i’m adding them!

jean valjean has chronic back pain, specifically a problem with the discs in the upper spine, from his time in prison. gradually gets worse as he gets older because of lack of treatment and him triggering the pain himself by lifting the crashes cart and then marius in the sewers. in my modern aus i like to think he gets an upper back/neck and shoulder brace that he wears, and he’s a bit insecure about it so that’s why he’s always wearing big coats even in aus where he’s not being pursued by javert

javert, marius, and enjolras are autistic. javert has known most of his life but marius wasn’t diagnosed until his late teens due to lack of familial support. enjolras would have been diagnosed as a kid but he’s afab and there’s lack of diagnosis for afab children and he doesn’t get diagnosed until he’s in his 20s after doing his own research.

enjolras, grantaire, courfeyrac, and bossuet have adhd. enjolras and bossuet have more hyperactive traits, enjolras’ manifesting in his need to constantly be doing something and chronic boredom, while bossuet doesn’t display his as physical hyperactivity but more racing thoughts and an inability to slow his mind down. courfeyrac and grantaire have more attention deficit issues. they can’t focus on one topic for a while unless they go into hyperfocus or it’s a hyperfixation. grantaire has a lot of self worth issues because of his adhd because growing up he was seen as a bad student and a bad child because of his attention issues and executive dysfunction. courfeyrac got medicated really early on in childhood. enjolras did too and it becomes a bit of an issue between him and grantaire because grantaire doesn’t start medication until he’s about 24 and enjolras has been on medication for a long time and he’s kinda forgotten about how difficult it can be being unmedicated so he thinks grantaire isn’t trying enough. that changes when the pharmacy won’t refill enjolras’ medicine and he has to go a week without it. it’s a really humbling experience he apologizes to grantaire once he’s back on meds (this is based on personal experience actually… i didn’t start meds until a few months ago and i had a friend who started meds in middle school do what enjolras did and ur sucked)

joly had to get his knee joint replaced through surgery and still can’t walk properly without pain in the area so he walks with a cane. he also has an autoimmune disorder that makes him get sick really easily, as well as chronic fatigue and brain fog that makes it hard to complete daily tasks even when he has a low pain day. he also has very bad anxiety that sometimes manifests in worrying about his health excessively and vigilance about staying healthy because he knows that if he even gets a cold, it will be worse for his body than someone without a chronic illness

cosette and eponine both have c-ptsd from living with the thenardiers, and i have so much to say about this that i’m thinking about making an entirely separate post about it. just know that both of them have trauma responses, with cosette becoming very docile and a chronic people pleaser because she doesn’t want to get in trouble even though she won’t be punished like that anymore, while eponine has become hardened by her trauma and puts up walls so she doesn’t get hurt. she also gets frequent nightmares about her siblings being hurt and wakes up sweaty and almost screaming. gavroche came home late one day and eponine was on the verge of a panic attack even though it had only been half an hour

combeferre is blind in one eye and his other eye is partially damaged so he doesn’t have very good depth perception in what he can see, and he also has very limited color vision

feuilly is deaf and grantaire is HoH. feuilly’s primary form of communication is sign language, though he can lip read but not very well. all the amis know basic signs like how to ask if he wants some water/food, hellos and goodbyes, and how to sign their names. once feuilly becomes close with them, he creates signs specifically for their names, which at least in the american d/Deaf/HoH community is very special. a very close family friend of mine is HoH and he gave me a name sign when i came out as trans (it’s a quick movement of the letters R and Y up in the position where male signs are signed like “father”) grantaire is hard of hearing and has hearing aids. sometimes when he fights with enjolras he just takes out his hearing aids and just lets enjolras keep going until he realizes what’s going on.

this next one is very personal to me and is something i don’t think i’ve ever seen before, but i hc jehan with having schizoaffective disorder (bipolar type). i personally have this disorder and i have found some comfort thinking jehan has it too. they started having mood symptoms first, which started as a depressive episode and then suddenly they felt like they had been shocked into a manic episode. once the mania started they began having delusions of grandeur and the belief that they were a prophet sent to help the world. they began thinking people were after them and they heard voices from “angels” telling them what to do. they started writing poetry as a way to get the voices out of their head and onto paper. it took two years to get a diagnosis and a some very rough nights where they weren’t sleeping and would show up to meetings with delusional ideas, and they were scared. they refused to go to the hospital but needed help, so grantaire took them to the community out reach center that he goes to for alcohol addiction treatment and jehan got a psychiatrist who started them on antipsychotics and a mood stabilizer. i like to think that jehan got better quickly, just because i’ve had this disorder for a very long time and i’ve tried almost every antipsychotic out there and im not really better, so i want them to not have my experience. they were accepting of treatment pretty easily, but they did worry that their poetry wouldn’t be the same afterwards. fortunately, they channeled their frustration into poetry as opposed to writing what they were hearing and even though their poetry changed once they got on medicine, they didn’t lose their ability to write it. they’ve also learned how to have confidence in themself and the revolution without becoming delusional, which did take time because hearing enjolras’ strong ideas, it just felt like too much for a while. but the longer they’ve been stable and connected to reality, the easier it becomes to believe that yes, some things may seem improbable, but they can still happen AND some ideas are delusions and can be differentiated between the improbably ideas

bahorel has hypermobile joints and has to be careful when boxing with grantaire because he has subluxed or even fully dislocated his shoulders, elbows, and finger joints while boxing. jehan bought him some colorful finger braces and has stitched patterns into his knee and elbow braces

that’s enough for now because this is getting really long but yeah. lots of projection on my part (whoops) but what is this blog without me projecting my issues onto les mis characters? is this not what this blog is based on 😂

#les mis #les mis headcanons #les miserables #disabled headcanons #les amis #les amis de l'abc

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mellometal · 3 years ago

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Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.

I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.

Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.

I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.

ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:

This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)

LET'S FUCKING GET IT.

The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.

Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.

Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.

I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.

Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.

Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.

Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.

Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)

Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?

There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.

Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.

My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?

Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.

For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted

First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)

Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too.

It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.

If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.

Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man.

Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want.

I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too.

Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around.

If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.

Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.

Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.

If you've read this far, thank you so much!

#mello speaks #dhar mann #dhar mann talk #dhar mann will live to regret his decision to make these fucked up cringe videos #dhar mann will live to regret his decision uwu #dhar mann is a piece of human garbage #please stop supporting dhar mann #autism isn't a tragedy #we need better representation for autistic people who aren't little white boys or young white cishet men #dhar mann is a cringe ass nae nae baby #tw abandonment #tw ableism #cw sia mention #cw chris chan mention #tw dhar mann

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simplyclockwork · 4 years ago

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Hello! I’ve read several of your fics and they’re absolutely lovely. I was wondering if you could do a prompt I saw some time ago but never found a fic for? Johnlock, where Sherlock has to hide a disability from John or vice versa? No NSFW please, and thank you!

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Hi anon! Thanks so much for your patience, I’ve finally filled this prompt. You can read it below the page break or on Ao3 here.

I chose to write Sherlock as having ADHD because I read him that way, and I have ADHD-C as well. I felt it was a perspective I could write from experience. I hope that’s alright.

My writing Sherlock as having ADHD isn’t meant to disagree with anyone who reads him differently. I know many people read him as being on the Autism Spectrum, and this is not intended to discredit that perspective.

Thanks again for the prompt and feel free to send more anytime!

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Just as he does each morning, Sherlock rolls out of bed and digs into his bedside table for the bottle of pills stuffed beneath the various detritus filling the drawer. He shakes one tablet out into his palm, pops it into his mouth, and pads into the bathroom for a mouthful of water.

Every morning, he does this. Wakes early, takes his medication, and lies back in bed until it kicks in. When he’s on a case and forgoes sleep, he swallows the pill before ducking into the shower. Or using the loo. Whatever will take him out of the room for at least long enough for his body to begin absorbing the medication.

Living with ADHD has been more complicated, but it has also been easier. Before John, Sherlock never bothered to try and keep a regular schedule. He denied himself sleep and care, food and hygiene, and let his hyperfixations carry him through the day.

But things are different now. Now, there is John, and there is some kind of structure in Sherlock’s life (even if it is a structure that he forgoes at any opportunity). Sherlock does his best to follow it.

It’s not always easy. Sometimes, the day gets away from him. Sometimes, he blinks and realizes he’s spent the entire night bent over a stack of case files. Sometimes, he forgets to eat for two days straight, and John has to force food upon him. Despite the days where he fails to follow routine, Sherlock feels, largely, that he’s developed adequate coping mechanisms. Many things aren’t as hard as they once were, and Sherlock is content. Or close to.

Still, he hides his diagnosis. John is a kind man and a doctor, and many might say he would understand. But Sherlock has been burned before, many of those times by doctors who didn’t really understand.

He doesn’t wish to be burned again, certainly not by John. John is his friend, the closest thing he’s had to anything of the sort, and Sherlock hates that he can’t be sure John won’t be like the others. He hates and fears that possibility, the uncertainty eating away at him.

What it comes down to is privacy. It’s no one’s business but his own if Sherlock takes a pill in the morning just so he can focus. If he has to arrange his room just so to sleep, that’s for him to accept and him alone. If his head sometimes becomes so loud, rushing too fast for him to keep up with rational thought, that he can hardly think, nevermind function, then that is Sherlock’s cross to bear.

So, when he blurts his diagnosis out to John over breakfast, no one is as surprised by it as Sherlock.

“I have Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder,” he says. “ADHD-Combined, to be perfectly accurate.” The announcement seems like a great idea until immediately after it leaves his mouth. Sherlock begins to feel the dragging weight of regret pressing him down into hs his chair. He’s done this several times before, and never once has it gone the way he'd hoped.

He braces himself for the inevitable.

John raises his eyes from the newspaper open before him, meeting Sherlock’s horrified gaze. He blinks slowly and just once. Then, with a slight smile, he says, “Thanks for telling me.”

Sherlock stares, still mortified, now a little bemused. He frowns. “You’re… welcome?” Biting his bottom lip, he drops his eyes to the table, still wearing that same frown. “It doesn’t bother you?”

Now it’s John’s turn to look bemused. Setting the paper aside, he tilts his head and studies Sherlock’s downturned face. “Of course not.” His brow furrows. “Did you think it would?”

“It bothers most people,” Sherlock says. He thinks of his parents and all the classes they took to ‘learn how to best deal with him.’ He thinks of his brother, asking why he could never just sit still, Sherlock! He’s sure they meant well or that they believed they’d done their best. Everyone seemed to think they meant well. But every clumsy attempt to relate, every half-arsed gesture toward minimizing his diagnosis, has made Sherlock wary of people who say they understand. In his experience, it’s usually just lip-service.

Sherlock waits to see what John’s lip-service will sound like.

But John, it seems, is full of surprises. He simply taps a finger to the table, shrugs, and says, “Well, it doesn’t bother me.” He picks up the newspaper again, adding, “My cousin’s daughter has ADHD.” The way he says it is casual, with no ulterior motive present that Sherlock can see. “She’s fourteen now. Really into bees. Cool kid.”

Sherlock swallows. When he speaks, his voice sounds far smaller than intended. “I like bees,” he whispers.

John smiles at him over the newspaper. “Yeah?” His eyes are warm. “Maybe you can recommend some reading for her. My cousin said she’s already burned through most of what their local library has available.”

“Maybe,” Sherlock replies. His voice is a little louder, less tentative. He sits up a little straighter in his chair.

John, still with his small smile, refocuses on the article he’s reading. “Fantastic,” he says. Then, “By the way, your latest mould experiment.” John flicks the corner of the newspaper back and narrows his eyes. “Stop leaving it under my bed.”

Pushing his lower lip out in a pout, Sherlock scoffs, “Your room is the optimal temperature for the rate of spore growth required to achieve the level of—”

“Not under my bed,” John interrupts firmly. “I’ll toss it out the window next time. I swear I will.”

Sherlock huffs but nods and admits defeat. “Fine,” he mutters, petulant.

“Thank you.”

Just like that, John goes back to reading his paper, and Sherlock takes up poking at his eggs. Just like that, Sherlock’s world goes from rocked to steady.

#prompt #sherlock #johnlock #gen #anon #adhd #attention deficit hyperactivity disorder #simplyclockwork #prompt fill #Anonymous

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spectrumed · 3 years ago

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4. body

Do I have body issues? Well... yeah. Who doesn’t? I absolutely do not like being fat, that’s something I’d change about me. And I probably should bulk up a little, go to the gym. My diet isn’t terrible, I don’t eat any fast food, but I could still always eat healthier. More greens, less beans. But most of all, my biggest body issue is that I don’t really associate myself with my body. My mind feels disconnected from my body. The day scientists invent a way for us all to live as brains in jars on wheels, I’m there standing in line for a chance to become all cerebral. Being physical, it’s just so messy, so awkward, so uncomfortable. You feel pain, you feel embarrassment, you feel horny. Nothing good comes from having a body. If you were just a brain, you could go on thinking and calculating and just generally having a good mental time. Or you’d start feeling suffocated and trapped trying to move your limbs and realising that they have been all chopped off. Hmm… Maybe it’s more complicated than I initially thought.

I don’t understand people who enjoy physical activities. Let it be clear before we delve into this long rant of mine complaining about all things gymnastic, this is not particularly an autistic trait. In fact, there are plenty of autistic people who may excel as athletes, their drive and obsessive personality traits becoming quite useful in developing that discipline that is required to fully commit to becoming an all-star jock. Not all autistic people are reprehensible nerds. Some autistic people are actually quite sexy. Some even have abs. But that’s not me. That’s not my clan of autistic people. I like drawing maps. I like thinking about things. I like making cocktails. The only part of my physical body that I like to put strain on is my liver. Don’t make me go on a run. There isn’t an armchair in this world that I wouldn’t want to sit down in, even the ones that used to be owned by old chain-smokers that have that awful aroma that sneaks into your nostrils and makes you worry about second-hand lung cancer. Sitting is great. I like sitting. Also lying down. Lying down is good.

Am I lazy? No, I don’t think so. Maybe a little, but here’s the thing. I can’t control the things I obsess over. There’s a great deal of overlap between autism spectrum disorder and attention deficit disorder. If you’re reading this and you’re a fellow friend on the spectrum, you may have gotten diagnosed with both. One of those rare times in my life I have attended group therapy, more than half the group were diagnosed with both. I, however, am not. But seeing as the two conditions are so intertwined, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that a facet of autism involves difficulties in trying to focus on something, or even trying not to focus on something too hard. If you were to judge my tenacity, my ability to keep going, based solely on how I perform during physical tasks, you’d think I was the least resolute person on the planet. But then you’ll find me, some time later, staying up until four in the morning drawing another map. A map that’s really just a different take on another map that I drew earlier, that itself was a reworked version of a previous map that I drew but didn’t like, that actually began as a second iteration of one map I drew that was actually wholly different, that was based on a map of Europe but if Denmark never existed. How many maps have you drawn Fred? Why don’t you go mind your own business, you nosy ferret.

The DSM-5 (the fifth edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. You can think of it as something akin to a bible of psychology, which is definitely an inflammatory way to refer to it, but I’m gonna go with it! Because I’m a wildcard, and that’s just how I roll,) includes this section as part of its diagnostic criteria for autism spectrum disorder.

Highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus (e.g., strong attachment to or preoccupation with unusual objects, excessively circumscribed or perseverative interests).

Now, I personally don’t relate to that at all. There’s nothing abnormal in my intense love for maps. The fact that maps aren’t as widely cherished as they ought to be is a fault of others, and I refuse to acknowledge that this may be a part of my character that could be perceived as quirky, or out of the ordinary. But, still, for the sake of argument, let’s presume that I can get, at times, excessively circumscribed. I’d like to say that I’ve only ever engaged in excessive circumscribing in my privacy away from onlookers, but I am afraid that I may have allowed some of my excessive circumscribing to happen in public. I definitely do apologise for that. I will try to do better in the future. But you never know when you’re about to experience some excessive circumscribing. The best you can do is keep it limited.

I don’t know how neurotypicals work. So, you don’t feel these kinds of obsessions? These moments of intense focus? These fixations? Then, you lack passion? Are you heartless? Soulless? Or are you just weak? Are you too feeble to hold steadfast working on a project all night long? To lose touch with your sense of hunger, your need for sleep, and all contact with any other human person? My fixations may come across as strange, but to me, your lack of fixations come across as bizarre. The world is endlessly fascinating. Have you never felt that compulsion to just fully immerse yourself in a topic that allows you to forget about your physical body for just that moment in time? The body cannot hold me. I wish to absorb as much information as I can. If I could astral project, by gods, I would astral project. To decouple your consciousness from your mushy brain for just that little bit, to go soaring across the landscapes, to explore the cosmos, just free of all things corporeal, that would be swell. How terrible isn’t it, when you’re deep in research, learning all about the mystical religious practices of the long-dead hierophants of the ancient world, to be drawn back into the present by the sudden need to urinate? There is something so dreadfully mundane about possessing a human body. If only we could all be celestial beings allowed to just be without the biological needs associated with having flesh and blood and bone and bladders.

I am not religious, nor am I spiritual. I do not believe that there is an immaterial world that lies above the material. I do not believe there is an astral plane. I think that one of the terrifying things about living is knowing that we do not possess such a thing as an eternal soul, that all things are temporal, and that ultimately, we have to come to terms with that. It’s not so terrible. In some ways, the temporal nature of life can be its biggest blessing. All things must pass. Sure, that does include the good times, like that vacation you spent as a child wishing that it would never end. But it also includes the bad times. The heartbreak you feel from a failed relationship. The grief you feel after the passing of a parent. The depression some of us are burdened with. Some days are worse than others. But they too will pass. One of the remarkable things about the human body is its ability to bounce back from injury. To change and evolve in ways we sometimes find unthinkable. The brain, likewise, is transformational, capable of incredible developments. We’re not fixed in stone. We’re not eternal. Which is a good thing. It is what allows recuperation and progress. I should be thankful to my body for being there, even when I’m not. After all, isn’t your body your temple?

I am able-bodied. Am I disabled? There’s naturally a lot of questions that surround how we ought to understand mental illness or neurodiversity in regards to disability. Does autism spectrum disorder count as a disability? Well, yes, it can be considered a learning disability. It is certainly something of a handicap, you are experiencing struggles that most people don’t experience. But to your average layperson, your typical dullard who spends their time watching reality TV, drinking beer, and being happy, what counts as a disability to them? Would they see me and think I was disabled? I’m not in a wheelchair. I don’t walk with a cane. Though I will occasionally “stim,” make small repetitive moments with my hands or legs, I do not exhibit any kind of physical symptoms. If I told them that I was disabled, they’d scoff and tell me that I’m just making it up for attention. They’d say I’m probably just trying to mooch off the government, scoring welfare checks while doing nothing to contribute to society. I’ve got all my limbs. I am not sickly. I am actually quite strong, due to being a big and tall man, I am able to carry quite the load. So, I have no reason to not be a fully productive member of society, right? And yet, here I am, feeling at most times utterly perplexed by anything physical. Probably because I am just lazy, right?

I don’t think laziness is a thing. What is laziness supposed to actually be? Tiredness? If a person is perpetually tired, then they’ve likely got a sleep disorder. To call them lazy would be callous. There are plenty of overworked people that get called lazy, especially by tyrannical overseers who think of their charges as mere workhorses whose only purpose in life is to toil away in the factory until the day they die. Intolerable parents who see their terminally sullen child and instead of wondering what is making them so upset decide to deride them for their lack of ambition. Are you lazy when you are procrastinating? No you are just being a tad irresponsible, maybe, deciding to skip out on chores in order to play video games or masturbate. But you’re not just doing nothing. People generally don’t enjoy doing nothing. We need something to occupy ourselves, to fill that vacuum we all feel whenever we’re just sitting still. I am someone who appears to be comfortable just sitting still, but that’s because I’ve learned, since a very young age, to entertain myself with my own thoughts. To fantasise, to daydream, to do anything I can to escape from the void that is doing absolutely nothing. Boredom, that’s terrible. Boredom is existential dread. Of all the motivations that drive humans, love, spite, jealousy, or pride, I think the need to evade boredom is one of the most prevalent. Humans would rather experience electric shocks than sit alone in a room being bored.

I am not lazy, I am merely… excessively circumscribed. For as much as this may be a specific diagnostic criteria for autism spectrum disorder, I think it is also a common trait amongst all humans. There will always be within us a pull to do something other than the thing that we’re really supposed to be doing, that does not make us lazy, that just makes us terrified of boredom. Sure, you know that you’re supposed to mow the lawn, but that's just so dreadfully tedious, you just would rather be working on perfecting your new stand-up comedy routine. Thinking up jokes to tell on stage is so much more stimulating than cutting grass. And who cares if your lawn grows a little wild? Lawns are a scam, imposed by fascists to make us think grass in its natural state is ugly. All grass is beautiful, whether it is cut short or it is allowed to grow long. Do the thing that fulfils you. Allow yourself to become immersed in passion, to forget about those things that hold you back, the little silly things we’ve convinced ourselves is important. Stay up late, if you wish. You’re gonna kill it on open mic night, bud!

Yes, it is a problem when your obsessions grow so singular that you forget to feed yourself. When you forget personal hygiene, when you become trapped in your own apartment looking like some feral rodent caught in a cage. Like always, the key is moderation, and I know that from time to time, you may have to entertain a boring task or two. Clean your room, brush your teeth, trim your pubic hair, try to give an impression that you are taking care of yourself. If for anyone, do it for your mother. She will be happy seeing you looking like a civilised individual, wearing clean clothes and not looking malnourished. But don’t ever chastise yourself for being lazy. Laziness is a sin that we’re all guilty of, and if we’re all guilty of it, is it really a sin? Or is it just part of what it means to be a human? To be a messy creature made out of flesh and blood and bone and the occasional bladder. In the end, I’m more happy than displeased at having a body. It’d be much harder to type on a keyboard if I didn’t have fingers.

Still, I wish I wasn’t fat.

#neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autism spectrum disorder #autism #aspergers #mental health

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tinydooms · 4 years ago

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🙈🚫🙉 for Rick;

🛌🎒🙉😈 for Evy;

🚫🙅‍♂️(the "insecure" one, it's a bit small to make out) 🤳 and 🛌 for Jonathan;

🙊💚✍ for Alex, please? :o)

This isn’t a complicated ask at all! ;-)

Rick:

🙈what’s my muse’s biggest blind spot?

After the War, Rick is paranoid about safety, but he doesn’t really realize it. He’s so in the habit of looking after people under his command that when stressed or in a dangerous situation, he tends to give orders and expect people to obey him. This is why, when Evelyn refuses to stay safely in Fort Brydon while he and Jonathan go to fetch Dr. Chamberlain, he locks her in her room.

🚫what is one thing my muse wouldn’t want someone else to know about them?

Rick is ashamed of the way he acted when he fell apart, between leaving the Legion and meeting the Carnahans. He got into a lot of fights, drank himself unconscious most nights, and slept around more than he should have, and always felt guilty about his bad behaviour. It’s not something he wants to go into detail with with Evie, though she knows the bones of the story.

🙉what are two things that make my muse uncomfortable in conversation

Rick hates it when people, especially the upper crust whose circles they run in as Evie’s career grows, comment on his origins and lack of formal education. He doesn’t see the shame in being born to a hard-working single mother or learning from the school of life, and he hates the way some people deliberately try to make him feel inferior while seeming to give compliments.

Evie:

🛌my muse’s biggest nightmare

Evie fears losing her family to a disaster of her own creation. She fears that Rick will someday take a bullet (or worse) for her, because she knows how precious she is to him. She fears losing Alex, her only child.

🎒what was my muse’s worst subject in school?

Sports. Evie attended a European day school in Cairo throughout her childhood, one that set a lot of store in physical activity, and while she loves to ride and swim, playing games and running about is not her idea of a good time.

🙉what are two things that make my muse uncomfortable in conversation

Evie hates it when people make comments about her Egyptian heritage or imply that it’s amazing how far she has come in academia and archaeology "for a woman". Increasingly throughout the 1930s, conversations about racial inferiority arises and leave Evie a seething mess. As a result, she is profoundly anti-Hitler and anti-racialist, and as shadows loom over Europe, joins societies promoting anti-fascist rhetoric. She doesn’t even get mad, just rueful, whenever Rick hauls off and punches fascists--something that happens regularly in late-1930s society, alas.

Jonathan:

🚫what is one thing my muse wouldn’t want someone else to know about them?

After being invalided home from the War after the Battle of the Somme, Jonathan sleeps with his old knit toy, a stuffed bear called Archie that was a gift from his mum when he was a very small boy. Holding onto it at night gives him a sense of security and helps him to sleep. On the occasions that Jonathan has a companion at night, Archie disappears into a drawer, and he stays safely at home when Jonathan goes on a dig, but having him makes things a little easier, and Jonathan never puts him away for good.

🙅‍♂️what does my muse feel insecure about?

Jonathan was made to feel bad about being part Egyptian from childhood, when his schoolmasters routinely used his mixed race status as an indication of his foolishness. As a result, Jonathan has always had some imposter syndrome and a sense of having to work twice as hard to achieve the same results as his English classmates. Like Evie, he is heavily against fascism and racial intolerance as a result, and is happy to join Rick when the latter feels like punching fascists.

Alex:

🙊what would my muse say their biggest flaw is

Back talk. Alex knows he isn’t supposed to sass adults, but sometimes he can’t help it. He comes by it naturally.

💚what does my muse get envious over?

Alex would dearly like to have a brother or sister and is puzzled why his parents, who so obviously love each other, haven’t produced more offspring. He asks Rick point blank about it once and Rick explains that though he and Evie would love to have more kids, it was very hard for her to get pregnant with Alex in the first place and things just haven’t worked out since.

✍️does my muse have a learning disability?

Alex sometimes finds it hard to focus and can go on what he and his family call a “spiral”: he gets one idea for one project, which leads to another idea, which leads to another, which leads to none of the projects actually getting finished unless someone intervenes and redirects him. It’s not until he is a grandfather himself that Alex learns the term “attention deficit disorder” and everything falls into place.

#ask games #please?#my fanfics #The Mummy #Rick O'Connell #Evelyn Carnahan #Jonathan Carnahan #Alex Carnahan O'Connell

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dumb-hat · 4 years ago

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Character Sheet - Evander Winsome

—————- Link to blank template!

Rules: Things in brackets are meant only as guidelines, to be erased and your answers written in place of. Things separated by | are for bolding and italicising.

Tagged by: No one! I saw this reblogged by @mooglemeet, so I went ahead and grabbed it directly from @bluespiritfire. Link to the blank template is up above! Tagging: No one specific/anyone who wants to. Feel free to tag me back so I can see it!

Name: Evander Winsome Age: 26 Pronouns: He/him Birthdate: 12th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Hyur From the First: Interracial heritage:

Hometown/city: Limsa Lominsa Current residence/popular haunt:Ul’dah

~~APPEARANCE~~

Favourite/commonly used clothes:

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? Nothing in particular

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~ Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: mother | father | aunt and/or uncle | grandparents | adoptive | foster | mentor | family friend/godparents | other Siblings: One older brother; deceased Children: None that he knows of Romantic: single | unrequited | crushing | dating | engaged | married | divorced/separated | widow/widower | recently split | it’s complicated (I mean, not to him. To him, it makes total sense. Well, most of it does.) | other (…) Friends: Evander tends to befriend and trust people fairly easily, though it can take him a bit to really open up. Once you’ve hit that point, you’ve likely got a friend for life. Rivals/Enemies: To the best of his knowledge, he’s left these all behind somewhere or other, thanks largely to his restless need to wander. That said, there’s surely a few lurking in the past and there’s always room for more, of course!

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? He’ll often make complaining noises about paying for drinks and dinner, but he’ll do it every time and would be slightly hurt if people didn’t let him.

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? Poorly, typically.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons He doesn’t have any particular bond with any of his weapons, really. He sees them as tools, and ones that he uses only reluctantly. He sometimes enjoys tinkering with the ones he builds, but that’s more of a hobby than anything.

Notable Mounts He has various vehicles and machines he likes to fuss over and drive around, but he’s particularly fond of his SDS Fenrir.

In addition to his chocobo—a particularly stubborn beast named Doreen—he’s also fond of his battlesheep, Doctor One and a colossal crab he’s dubbed St. Barnabus.

Notable Minion/s Besides Doctor One and St. Barnabas, Evander is especially fond of various clockworks, automata, wind-ups and models that he’s put together. His favorite is a drone modeled after a Magitek bit that he’s named Valencia.

Keepsakes/Mementos

A pendant in the shape of a swan, a few too many flasks

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Evander lives with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I’ve written about it a few places, most notably at length here and in brief here. How do they deal with these? Depends on the day, really. This isn’t really a thing he has a name for, so it’s not a thing he can easily address. He’s got a sloppily slapped together set coping mechanisms that work about half the time, if he’s lucky. Other than that, he mostly hopes for good days full of things he can convince himself he’s interested in.

Education Level He likes it when people underestimate him, so he’s not always quick to admit to the formal Ishgardian education afforded to him by the family that took him in when he left Limsa Lominsa. He’ll often try to pass it off as eclectic, self-driven studies... Which, admittedly, also played a big part in shaping him.

Habits There’s a lot of excess in his life. He drinks too much. He eats too much. He stays up too late, too long, and then sleeps too late, too long. He’s almost always got a flask or four on his person, and he often finds that he’s picking up the dinner or drink tab wherever he goes.

Other Nothing immediately springs to mind, but I’m sure there’s like a dozen things I should put here. This thing has been sitting in my drafts for god-knows-how-long, so I’m just glad to finally get it out there.

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vincent-g-writer · 4 years ago

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The Silver Screen Savant: Thoughts on Hollywood Autism, Pt. 1

When I was a child, I didn’t fit in.

A common statement, many people empathize with. However, to say “I didn’t fit in,” is a gross understatement. I stuck out like a sore thumb, and at times, still do. Now, why was this, you may ask? Well, there are things I could name. A banal little checklist of traits and characteristics would probably do the trick. But I’m not sure that would do it justice. So I’ll tell you what it felt like:

I had trouble reading facial expressions, because people’s face, and hands, and body would say one thing, while their words said another. Smiles that didn’t reach the eyes. Laughs that were a little too hearty, or loud, or hollow. Disingenuous conversations and actions frustrated me. If lying was wrong, why were, as my mother used to call them “little white lies” acceptable? Why did we smile and thank our new neighbors for their homemade casserole dish, before promptly throwing it away when they left? These things, and many others, puzzled me. But the thing that puzzled me the most, was interacting with my peers. I didn’t understand the sensation of a hundred million bees, pricking me with electric anxiety when I went to school, or played with children in the neighborhood. I didn’t understand why they weren’t constantly talking, wondering, asking- about everything. I didn’t understand how their minds worked. Most of all, I didn’t understand why it physically hurt me to look into people’s eyes, child and adult alike. On the other hand, I did notice they didn’t like me very much. “You’re weird,” they would sneer. Or “you talk too much.” And, they were right. I knew they were. Even as I would wax poetic about all sorts of nonsense, like the difference between a cocoon and a chrysalis. I knew. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t shut myself off.

And that’s just one tiny example, of a lifetime.

Back then, if you’d asked what was “wrong” with me, on a good day, I would have shrugged. Other times, when I despised every fiber of my being, I’d parrot back the sentiments of my peers. “Freak,” “loser,” and “r*tard” were words I heard often. And for a long time, I believed them.

Today, I know differently. Not to say the above struggles no longer apply. If anything, some of them are worse. But now, I now longer blame or hate myself for being different. Now, I understand.

The Lightbulb Moment

In 2014, my daughter began speaking. She was four years old. Before then, she could say “dada,” “juice,” “two,” and “go.” The rest was garbled noises, when and if she made a sound. Most of the time, she didn’t. My wife and I were concerned, to say the least. But it wasn’t exactly a new worry. My princess never crawled, never pointed to get people’s attention, or show them things, and did not play with toys. Plus a host of other concerns. So we hopped on Google, and after about, oh, half an hour of research, got in touch with a doctor. Now, I feel like I must add the caveat here that we wanted to have her seen before then. However, many issues (including a bout of homelessness) prevented that. So we were a bit…late, in that regard. No matter. Her doc sent her to a local play therapist, and after about fifteen minutes of interaction, the therapist knew exactly what was going on: Our little Princess was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder.

But wait! There’s more-

Once this became clear, my wife started looking into other things. Her own independent research, as it were. She kept it to herself for a month or three, then avalanched it all into my lap . Our Princess wasn’t the only one, as it turned out. And really, had I ever bothered to look…it was obvious. But I was in denial. I couldn’t possibly be autistic. So, like the stubborn Taurus I am, I dug my heels in. I refused to discuss it, for almost year. But, my beloved wife, who is much smarter and wiser than I am, knew what to do. In the name of “research for Princess,” she had me read a list of common autistic traits/symptoms. And it all came crashing down. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I was, without a doubt, also on the spectrum.

The gift of the Media: Fear, self hatred, stigma…superpowers?

Now, you might be asking, why exactly did I doubt myself? Cultural association, of course. And by “cultural association,” what I really mean is “the media.” Mostly, anyway. See, I’ve noticed a trend. In movies, tv and books, autism is usually presented in one of two ways: The Rainman, or the Idiot Perma-child, who cannot care for themselves. And I’m neither.

On the one hand, I was a straight A student. I could sleep through classes and make 100%. I was reading by the age of three or four, and I graduated highschool at fifteen. On the other, I have been known to go a full forty-eight hours without eating, because I “didn’t think about it.”

But I’m not the autistic person you see on tv. Now, that isn’t to say those people don’t exist. They do. For example, my daughter deals with much more noticable struggles than I ever have, while I have another member of my family (also on the spectrum) who is a certifiable genius. And I’ve known many others who are “obviously” autistic, whereas I pass as allistic* (see footnotes below) easily. Which is a sad discourse altogether, really. One the one hand, an “obviously” autistic person, what one might call “Low Functioning” (I could write a whole other post about why “low/high functioning” labels are harmful, however, for the sake of brevity, there’s some here, here and here) are often boiled down only to their struggles, where as people such as myself are relegated to “Not autistic enough to be my problem” or “well, you don’t look autistic.”

To quote-

“The difference between high-functioning autism and low functioning is that high-functioning means your deficits are ignored, and low-functioning means your assets are ignored.” -Laura Tisoncik

Why is this? As you might have guessed from the title of this post- I put a lot of it on the shoulders of the entertainment we consume. Nevermind certain hate organizations who swath themselves in the cloak of “advocacy” such as Autism Speaks, and Anti-Vaxcers, who think it’s better to have a dead child than an autistic one.*

I could go on. At length. However, I’m going to try and stay on track, just this once. To put it plainly, Hollywood Autism often works exactly like “high” and “low” functioning labels: We’re either uplifted to inhuman portrayals of superpowered savants, or downgraded to an “inspirational” invalid. In these stories, we’re props. The “Magical Disabled person!” as Tv Tropes puts it, there to uplift the neurotypical character from their adversity. After all, if this poor dumb sod (i.e- me) can be happy with their burdensome life, surely the pretty white able-bodied protagonist can! We’re “funny,” “scary,” or “sympathetic,” characters, who lack dimension, and nuance. We’re “inhuman.” We’re the lesser. Or at least, that’s one way it’s written. The other is the hyper intelligent, almost “superhuman,” and definitely super jackass genius, who’s much too smart™, and logical© to ever have feelings, friends or empathy. That’s it folks! That’s the show!

That’s what books, tv and movies told me, anyway. And what I truly believed for a long time. It’s why I cringed away in terror and shame when my spectrum issues were finally noticed. And why it took me so long to come to terms with it.

So, there you have it. Part 1. On the next episode, I’ll give some examples, both good and bad, and maybe even a little “what not to do,” or at least a “please consider real hard before doing this in your own work.”

If you like writing, talking about bad tropes and even worse marginalized representation, you can follow me at wordpress or at my “still has that new car smell” twitter. For now- thanks for reading.

-Your loving Vincent

*allistic= Non autistic.

*Vaccines do NOT cause Autism, however, if they DID, it would still be better to have an autistic child than one who died at the ripe old age of “easily preventable but deadly communicable disease.”

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monsterfucker-lisa-swallows · 5 years ago

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She tried to start a lynch mob using the old white lady trick of “two black men demanded drugs then stole my money and phone” as a cover up for murdering her son. Don’t let this slide, I’m literally begging you. Not this time.

This boy was nonverbal, so when he was heard screaming he couldn’t explain to people that his mom was trying to kill him. They only realized after she took him to another canal to drown him that she’d been trying to kill him the first time. Because you guys don’t listen to us. You don’t believe us. You believe the people who do this to us. We end up dead because many of us don’t have a voice and you won’t raise yours with us. You say “he’s in a better place” instead of making this a better place for him

(Article from 23rd May, 2020)

This happens so often. I’m lucky to be alive because I was abused horrifically by people who were trying to “cure” me. Don’t believe me that this is common?

The Autistic Self-Advocacy Network (an organization I actually support, as opposed to Autism Speaks) reports that “In the past five years, over 600 people with disabilities have been murdered by their parents, relatives or caregivers.”

Earlier this year, an 8-year-old autistic boy was murdered by his father who had sole custody of him. He called the child a “piece of shit” two days before the child died in a freezing New York City garage in the dead of winter. His father said after the death that he’d been through “more stressful things”. They had home video footage of him beating his children.

His name was Thomas Valva

In 2018, a 5-year-old boy with “ fragile X syndrome, pervasive developmental disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, impulse control disorder and dysphasia” was the subject of 11 different complaints to child services because of suspected abuse, but as was true in my case no action was taken. He died of asphyxiation and a drug overdose. “Brayson suffered a broken arm, broken femur and numerous burns and bruises in the years before his death, court records state. Price withdrew Brayson from school a month later. It was October. By November, he was dead.” (Classic abuse tactic, isolating the victim.) When child services investigated her prior to the death, the mother claimed he couldn’t feel pain.

“Prior to his death, Price googled "Risperidone overdose" multiple times, according to the court transcript. Ingalls searched multiple phrases, including "beat child with fragile X abuse, I want to kill my autistic child, painful ways to die (and) most painful torture."

Ingalls told Price via text message that he hated her son, wanted to buy a ticket to see Brayson take his last breath and thought she should "kill him while he is young and do something with your life before he robs you of any chance of ever being happy or being anything other than a stay-at-home retarded caregiver,"”

really indicative of how you see us, guys

His name was Brayson Price

here we have a woman who is anonymous and said she was “overwhelmed and felt totally alone after her child was diagnosed with autism.” (Like cry me a fucking river, Karen.) Pled not guilty by insanity. She googled suicide attempts and mothers who killed autistic children in the 48 hours before she smothered her 3 year old daughter with a Minnie Mouse pillow. She was convinced the child’s form of autism was “more severe” than it was...which...okay are people who cover this story expecting me to believe it would be justified if it WAS more severe?

Her name wasn’t printed, but she’s not forgotten.

Here we have a Tennessee mother covering up her husband’s abuse and murder of her 5-year-old autistic son

His name was Joe Clyde Daniels

Think this is getting depressing? It’s state enforced

Up to 50% of people killed by police have registered disabilities

911 Can Be a Death Sentence for Blacks in a Mental Health Crisis

Last year, a non-verbal autistic man became agitated and shoved an off-duty police officer when in line for samples at Costco in California. His parents tried to apologize and explain, but the police officer fired on them 10 times - killing him and wounding his parents. No charges were pressed.

His name was Kenneth French

We have a manslaughter charge for a cop killing a 6 year old boy? At least he got 40 years for it?

His name was Jeremy Mardis

I don’t know how many times we have to tell you this before you believe us, but our lives are not worthless. Regardless of what “level of functioning” we’re at (which is already a ridiculous metric because I’m apparently considered high functioning even when I barely hold a job), we’re not burdens and we’re not inherently dangerous. People keep saying they’re in a better place now, but that’s just excusing it. Make HERE a better place! Stop letting these news stories slide! Stop spreading thinkpieces by Autism Speaks lamenting over a poor mother who has been burdened with an autistic child and saying she’s so brave to not murder her child! Hell, sometimes you guys make whole documentaries about mothers who murder autistic children SYMPATHIZING with them! And stop calling cops on autistic people having meltdowns, for fuck’s sake!

Autism isn’t something we suffer from, not inherently! We suffer from the trauma of being forced to live in a world where people abuse and kill us for being different! You keep killing us instead of listening to us! Being non-verbal should NEVER be a death sentence!

I made some posters just because I, too, sometimes need a catch phrase. Feel free to make more.

(Image: “Autism isn’t deadly, ableism is. Stop passively condoning the murder of autistic people. Hear us. Believe us.”)

(Image: “Autism shouldn’t be a death sentence. Neurodivergent children have a higher risk of being bullied and abused. Black autistic children are at a higher risk of corporal punishment at school. 50% of the victims of police shootings are neurodivergent. Hear us. Believe us.)

(Image: “Silence shouldn’t = death. Non-Verbal autistic children are routinely abused and killed by parents because nobody can hear the cries for help. Non-verbal autistic adults are shot by police because they’re assumed to be dangerous. Hear Us. Believe us.”)

Something for my non-verbal or selectively verbal peeps out there.

(Image: Non-Verbal but not silent. Some autistic people aren’t capable of verbal communication. This doesn’t make them undeserving of life or respect. Others can communicate with text or sign or are selectively verbal. It’s important to learn how to communicate with an autistic person in their specific way and to not force them to conform to yours. Practice conflict resolution. Be patient. Hear us. Believe us.)

For people like me who can speak, or for any allies who will stand with us but not talk over us:

(Image: I don’t take my voice for granted. I lift my voice for all those who can’t speak for themselves. I see you. I’m with you. I respect you. You deserve to be here. Hear us. Believe us.)

(Image: Vaccines don’t cause autism. I literally don’t know how to tell you that those findings were debunked over 2 decades ago and you’re bringing back deadly diseases. Autism won’t kill your child. Measles will. I can’t believe I still have to say this. Hear us. Believe us.)

Anyway, that’s my message. I’m sick of this. Feel free to spread this like anti-vaxxers spread measles, because people DO talk about this, but I don’t see NTS willing to do much about it usually. Unfortunately we do need you on our side to hold yourselves accountable.

And it goes without saying that even though this is an autism specific post, this post is also friendly to other types of neurodivergence. We’re all in this (risk category) together.

#abuse tw

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marxsgrandson · 5 years ago

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“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with some Russian blood”- my Israeli PS professor (who is neither Russian nor American nor knows anything about me)

Long post ahead: read it if you’d like but mostly just hoping there’s someone else who can relate to the feelings I’m about to express. So here goes:

Had an unbelievably shitty day today.

I’m in this one political science class. It always ends up somehow ruining my mood. It’s the one with the shitty German men who confronted me in a group after class accusing me of being uncritical towards the Soviet Union, being an antisemite (lol these aryan guys were calling me an antisemite. Like they’re confirmed non-Jewish) and being a dumbass for not idk sucking Gorbachev’s dick personally would be the next leap there. Idk if I posted that here, but it’s necessary context.

Anyways today we were talking about Russia’s motive in x place and just jumping around to every unrelated topic about something about Russia because our class always gets sidetracked and never finishes the lesson we were supposed to do. And of course the Europeans were being pieces of shit.

And the prof said something like “I wish we had Russians in the class to offer maybe a Russian perspective too... like gosh that would be nice. Do we have any Russians?” And I sort of tentatively raised my hand half way because I’m half Russian and when she was looking around the room and didn’t see me, I said “I’m half Russian and this is actually something I heard and talked a lot about growing up, I could take a try at it”

“You’re not Russian, you’re just American with a little Russian blood” she said, dismissing me entirely as the class laughed like it was the funniest thing they’ve ever heard. I now realize what it means when people say they feel stung. I was paralyzed by those words and I don’t really know why. What makes it hurt more is that starting two seconds later she called on a series of five German douchebags to try and explain Russia’s motives and says “huh that’s an interesting idea” after each of them say something painfully obviously wrong. And I felt frozen.

If given the chance to unfreeze myself, I wish I said what I was feeling but didn’t have words for: “Hey. That’s not true. Russian was the language I said my first words in. It’s the language of my childhood and my soul. It connected me to something I felt distant from during the school day. I taught myself to read this language as soon as my mom taught me the alphabet as a little kid. I went to Russian school on the weekends when I was young. I worked hard to keep up this language even though I went through shit from my peers for it. I was the only speaker of this language I knew that was my age after the age of 10. The only other time I’d hear it was when my mom criticized me, wanted to manipulate me (because I told her she sounded sweeter in Russian so she used that to her advantage in making my life hell) bc my brother stopped speaking at a young age.

The only reason I have this connection is because I’ve never worked harder for anything else in my life. I took years of Russian lit courses (in Russian) at the local uni when I was in high school. Until then I’d only done math and reading (just for fun not for school) in Russian. Having learning and sight disabilities and being expected to keep up with both college and high school class and workloads was overwhelming at times. Like I was 14, this wasn’t an “easy A” as my friends joked, it was a college level literature course. But I loved it like nothing else. It was an oasis of peace during my adolesence just getting to hear my dearest language spoken by both native speakers and those who adopted it just because of their love for it. It was the first time I realized that this aspect of me isn’t shameful. Plus, the college kids treated me like I was such a hotshot because I grew up speaking the language and I was like a tiny 14 year old in a russia Olympic jacket and a bowl cut so that made my life. Just getting to be around places where for once, I understood everything that was being said in the exact emotion it was intended, having my cultural touchstones be the norm and that I got to interact with instantly more people in this language was really special.

Maybe what pissed me off so much is not only that I think it’s wrong, but that I think she’s right. My experience is different from a Russian experience, which is why I never claimed to be Russian even when I was the most Russian person in that classroom. My experience of being Russian (Jewish) (Italian)American is as much a story of love and connection as it is of shame and disconnection. It is the story of pain feeling inadequate to everyone, always. When I was six, kids were already refusing to play with me because their parents told them I was a spy or an enemy (which wtf who parents their kid like that) just because I talked about visiting my family in the summer (which is a normal thing to do) and gd forbid they live in RUSSIA. The bullshit hasn’t stopped since. My entire childhood, my mom was vigilant about who I was allowed to tell about being Russian because of it. I thought Russian a really important language to people here. I thought they cared about us. I thought someone else who didn’t have to care about us, fucking cared about us Russian Jews. How can a fellow Jew, an academic, not understand the inherent pluralism of Jewish and Russian experiences when she’s lived in this country surrounded by Russian Jews her whole life?

And I get it. I’m not technically Russian. I don’t have a Russian passport. I didn’t grow up in Russia and that still means there’s always someone more qualified to answer certain questions. But I didn’t think it was going to be some goyische fucking German. Cuz at least I saw saturated with these types of discussions about Russian politics, not being allowed to voice my opinion bc these are Russian jewish middle aged and older people lol kids don’t have valid opinions to them, but listening intently since infancy. I watched Russian news and tv shows (we didn’t have money for both English and Russian language tv so my mom chose the Russian tv channels) on the rare occasion I sat in front of the tv. I hung around Russian speakers more than English speakers (of my parent’s age and older) for most of my childhood until this year. And it’s not just the language, it’s the culture too. It’s the fact that no one around me shared these cultural touchstones growing up. and I didn’t share their American ones even though I grew up in the US.

But trips to Russia didn’t make me feel understood in the ways I craved it would. My family always commented on how amazingly I spoke Russian «просто без акцента!» (without an accent) *insert kisses from relatives you don’t even know who they are but they know everything about you* so I was always kind of aware that I couldn’t seamlessly fit in there either. Especially when in my mom’s small town, children who played with me had literally never seen someone with my color of skin and told me I looked “dirty” which catalyzed my whole washing my hands till my arms got dry and peeled and being frightened that I wasn’t getting “cleaner” and then getting diagnosed with my second subset of OCD at the age of seven. I had so many fond memories of my mom’s hometown. So much nostalgia. But I also have memories which pain me, like the many times I was chased out of stores or once in a doctor’s office because the person assumed I was Roma because of my appearance (like I said, small town). Things got even worse when the school I went to summer camp/summer classes in my mom’s hometown found out I was JEWISH. Oof. My mom convinced me that I was betraying my culture and my ancestors and alienating myself from my grandmother when I came out to her at 11, when I cut my hair after three years of her daily verbal harassment in my mother tongue (she knew it hurts more like that). She said if I wanted to continue “on this path” I would lose all connection to Russia.... “and you don’t want that, do you?” Suffice it to say, I got the message pretty young that I don’t belong in Russia either.

My whole life I’ve been translating half of my world to the other half of my world. And within each of these worlds I must translate my contexts many fold times more. (My Babushka still doesn’t know why I’m putting “poison” in my body for what she sees as a character flaw because she just doesn’t have the context for what ADHD is and the way I was taught to translate it in Russian is «дефицит внимание» or “deficit of attention/carefulness” which as far as she’s concerned is just an American invention for what could really be solved if I just sat more still.) And this has made my world so much richer to be lucky enough to have two native languages in which I learned how to express myself and gave me two whole realms through which to intimately understand the world and all of its nuances. You gain a family when you speak a language. It’s unlike anything else! It was even more special that I got to add Arabic at 12 and now Hebrew. I’m so lucky. But an inherent downside of being taught world views that conflict with each other in some very fundamental ways is really hard when you’re autistic and have ADHD because you have to juggle not just one set of social cues and norms, but two (or more, shout out to the multilinguals from childhood). It’s hard but it’s important and I’m so lucky that this was my birthright. I just wish people would take two seconds to try and understand. Or at least think about if something they said might make someone else feel like this, especially if they’re jewish. Like to ya it’s not a new thing to be torn in many directions. Even here where it’s the dominant culture, I expected her as someone who lives here and is an academic, she’d be better.

#jewish #class #school #study abroad #russian #russian jewish #queer #trans #russian jew #jew #adhd #autism #diaspora tag

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ladyofpurple · 5 years ago

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here it is: the post Literally no one was waiting for. i'd put it under a read more thing but i'm on mobile and can't be assed to get out of bed so fuck it. we air our dirty laundry on main for the world to see like men.

so waaay back in february or something, i started seeing a psychologist again. i'd been seeing a psychologist for a while last year, but she had a private practice and got too expensive over time, so i had to stop. now, however, i finally got a referral to the public mental health offices in my county. which is nice, because norway has this neat thing that means when you go to the doctor, public health care facilities, refill prescriptions for medications you have to take daily, etc, the money you spend on those things gets recorded and after you've spent like $260, you get a free card that gets logged into your medical records and you don't have to pay for any of those things for the rest of the year.

anyway, i mentioned a couple of years back that i finally got put on antidepressants for the first time. they helped a lot, but then i just... stopped taking them. there wasn't a reason, really. i just forgot to take them one week when i was stuck in bed with a headcold, and then it was hard to get back in the habit again. i tried to get back on them off and on for a long time, but i'd inevitably just forget again. until, like, i wanna say november/early december last year? i started taking them again. there were still some slip-ups every now and then, but for the most part i took them almost every day. any gaps were no longer than two, maybe three days at the most, and those gaps were maybe once a month or so on average. averages aren't really useful in this context, but i hope you get the idea.

anyway, i finally convinced my doctor that, no, seriously, i really need to see a psychologist, i've always needed to see psychologists my whole life, seeing psychologists help me, i can't afford a private psychologist so i need a public one, and after a lot of begging and insisting on my end and a lot of hemming and hawing on her end she finally agreed to refer me. except she forgot to actually send the email she'd been typing in front of me, and then she quit, so there was a lot of confusion and time spent sorting things out until i got my first appointment.

i didn't like my psychologist at first. she was way older than i'm usually comfortable with (that's a personal me-problem that i know is irrational, and i'm not gonna go into the why but yes i'm working on it), and very blunt in an exasperated sort of way. she made me angry sometimes. she made me feel like i wasn't trying hard enough. but she helped me get shit done, so i guess she was doing something right.

in june she called in a psychiatrist to help adjust my medications, so i started taking zoloft in addition to the other medication (remeron, aka mirtazapine) that i was already taking. the mirtazapine was helping with my depression, but my anxiety was still pretty bad. the zoloft helped.

by my second appointment with my psychologist, she asked me whether i could have adhd, or if there was a history of it in my family. now, i have a lot of family with adhd (how closely related we are by blood is a bit of a mystery to me, my family tree is more like an overgrown hedge and who knows who fits where), and my grandma used to joke that the women in our family "all have a little bit of that adhd brain in us", but as far as i knew, nobody in my immediate, direct bloodline had such a diagnosis. i had my suspicions about myself, of course — i knew that not every focus or attention related problem necessarily has a specific attention disorder source, but i also knew that what i was experiencing couldn't be "normal," in the sense that if i walked into a room with 100 people in it, 86 of those people wouldn't necessarily look at a list of my symptoms and go "oh same hat." i've had add on my about me for a while now. maybe that was silly of me; i hadn't been diagnosed with it, and what i knew about the specifics of it were picked up piecemeal off the internet. you know, that super-reliable place where everyone is honest and factual all the time?

anyway, this began the process of investigating the merits of such a potential diagnosis. research was begun. questionnaires were taken. my mom was invited to one of my sessions, in which she revealed that, oh yeah, bee tee dubs, she's always suspected i have adhd. did she mention that she has also apparently always suspected ocd and that i'm autistic? no? whoops, well, she has now.

end of june i was referred to the neuropsychologist devision of the public health care place. over the course of a little over 6 weeks i went in for 2 interviews, in which i answered several questionnaires, talked about my life and childhood and traumas and what my mom had told me about her pregnancy and labor, every possible symptom i'd ever had, and was sent home with even *more* questionnaries. in addition to these, i went in for two rounds of "testing," in which i was tested on my memory, pattern recognition, reaction time, impulse control, and probably a dozen other things. i was nervous. it was exhausting. i wanted answers but was terrified of what those answers would be.

end of august, my mom came with me for the big reveal. and guess what? she was right. primary diagnosis: adhd, special emphasis on the attention deficit part. bonus diagnosis: asperger syndrome. surprise! i'm autistic, i guess.

it was hard to come to terms with. which sounds really silly, since i wouldn't have even been taking those tests if i didn't think the outcome was a possibility. and it's not like the diagnoses were surprising either. the adhd part was easier to accept, mostly because i already felt pretty confident i had it. but the asperger diagnosis was harder. having to unlearn all those ingrained ableist stereotypes and social stigmas is hard, especially when you had some you didn't even realize were there. it's very surreal to think a thought and be like "no, wait, i do that. that joke is about me." it's a very surreal and slightly upsetting experience to realize how biased you are as general rule, but especially about a facet of your own identity you weren't aware of. and the feeling of everything and nothing changing all at once. i've always been like this. a doctor telling me i have two cognitive/developmental disabilities isn't an event that magically gave me these disabilities. my brain has always worked like this. the only difference between me now and me a year ago is that i have an official, medical reason for Why now.

that's another thing: coming to terms with the idea of being "developmentally disabled." it's not like i'm suddenly a different person — i have to constantly remind myself that my brain has always been like this. but having a piece of paper confirming that i am legally entitled to special allowances in the workplace or at school because i have not one, but two "disabilities" is absolutely buckwild to me.

it makes me reevaluate my life and my past. how many situations did i make worse because i did not have the capacity or knowledge about how my own brain works to self-reflect? was i high-functioning in the past because life was simpler? was it because i subconsciously had a better handle on what works for me and what doesn't, and somewhere along the way i lost that? or was it simply because i didn't have the option to be anything other than high-functioning? it's confusing.

i also lost my spot at college. i can still reapply next year if i want, but at least now i know why i was failing out lmao

anyway, by my birthday in september we started the process of adjusting my medication again. upping my zoloft, getting me off remeron, and as of 6 weeks ago or so, beginning ritalin.

it was a rocky start, but i'm up to 60mg now. two pills in the morning, one in the afternoon. i have a goddamn alarm for 8am every day, even weekends. my sleeping is still wonky, but at least im genuinely tired by 8pm every night. the psychiatrist still wants me to try melatonin for a month (even though i told her multiple times it has never worked for me, and my problem has never been "i'm not sleepy enough"), so i'm on a whopping 2mg of melatonin for the next 30 days. norwegians are fucking WEIRD about melatonin, don't even get me started.

a slightly unexpected side-effect (on my end) of these medication changes: remeron made me gain weight. like, a lot of weight. and i was constantly hungry all the time, overeating to ridiculous amounts. why did nobody ever tell me that weight gain and metabolism changes are a side-effect of anti-depressants? i was more active this summer than i'd been in, like, three years and i just got fatter. which was incomvenient because i kept outgrowing my clothes. anyway, a side effect of ritalin is a loss of appetite and general weight loss. the combination of regularly taking ritalin and dropping remeron entirely? i eat a fraction of what i used to before, i've almost entirely stopped snacking, and i've lost 15 lbs in less than a month. i've already noticed my face is slightly slimmer now. maybe by christmas i'll be able to fit into my old tshirts again.

anyway, my psychologist quit, so i have a new one now. i've only seen her a few times, but she's veeeery different from my old one. i can't decide if i like her or not.

in the middle of all this, i've been going to the social security office as well to kind of get some of my own money, possibly help me get a job at some point in the future. my caseworker is super nice. if she's over 30 i'd be shocked. i relate to her really well, she's very helpful and understanding, and she's very patient with me and my bullshit. she's the kind of person where if we met at a party or something we could probably hang out.

anyway, she's helped me get out of the house sometimes. she introduced me to this youth club volunteer group thing called the fountain house, designed for young people who've dealt with or are currently dealing with mental illnesses and such. i hung out there yesterday and the day before and did some basic office work. it's nice. and then there's a work placement place that can either give you a job on site in one of their four departments, or help you get a job at an actual business elsewhere with more support and leniency than you might get if they just hired you off the street. i'd start in their second hand store. they clean and restore all donations they recieve, and they're super fucking cheap. i treated myself to my literal lifelong dream of owning a vintage typewriter (!!!!!) yesterday, because it's almost christmas and goddammit, i've been doing so much shit the past couple of months i deserve it. do i have space for it? not really. do i have a plan on what to use it for? no. was it heavy and miserable trekking through the snow and rain yesterday back and forth? was it worth the backache in the morning? fuck yeah it was.

a fucking lot of things are happening all at once. diagnoses, medications, lifestyle changes, work placement, social clubs, dealing with bureaucracies on all sides just so i can feel like a person again, not to mention juggling hobbies like writing and drawing and maintaining my irl friendships. i'm getting as many balls rolling as i can while i have the opportunity and mental/emotional capacity to, but i'm worried i'll burn out again. i'm stabilizing and slowly building my life back up, but jesus christ it would suck if this stupid house of cards collapsed again. but i'm tentatively optimistic. who knows, maybe it's not to late to course-correct my mistakes.

so long story short, that's why i've barely been active on tumblr for months. that's why i haven't been writing, drawing, or reading fic. it's coming along, but it's slow.

i guess the most important thing is that it's coming along at all.

#the tmi nobody asked for and will probably never read — you're welcome #Lady of Purple's slice of life #mental illness #medication #adhd #autism #personal

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leobelgrave · 5 years ago

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LEONIDAS BELGRAVE [CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONNAIRE]

BASICS - 1. Height?

Leo is 6′0.

2. Eye color?

Blue/Gray.

3. Do they need glasses?

No.

4. Scars and birthmark?

They have a star-shaped scar on the back of their neck, due to them being incidentally stabbed with a screwdriver by their older brother. They also have a small, round birthmark on the right side of their rib cage, which they affectionately refer to as Pascal, the third nipple.

5. Tattoos and piercings?

They have a poke tattoo of the Aries constellation on their left shoulder blade, which they have no memory of getting.

6. Right or left handed?

Left!

7. Any disabilities? Physical or mental.

Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD)

8. Do they have any allergies?

Not that they’re aware of.

9. Favorite color?

Doesn’t have one. Prefers warmer colors, though.

10. Typical outfits?

As eccentric as possible. Sometimes, when they feel more modest they’ll opt for baja hoodies, shawls, mismatched socks. But they also aren’t too shy to wear something more revealing. Sometimes skirts, sometimes slacks, one time literally nothing at all. The colors are always vibrant and eye catching regardless of what they are wearing though.

11. Do they wear any makeup?

Sometimes, though usually only when going out. They like to keep it simple, with a bit of mascara, eyeliner, and gloss. Their nails are always painted, though.

12. What weapon do they use, if any?

They always carry a mace around in their bag, but never once have they used it. Why a mace, you may be wondering? Because it is just as chaotic as they are.

PERSONALITY - 13. Are they more optimistic or pessimistic?

Optimistic.

14. Are they introverted or extroverted?

Extroverted. It’s nearly impossible for them to meet a stranger.

15. What are their pet peeves?

Boring conversation, people who act indifferent about everything, people who get offended easily, using eating utensils when you could use your hands, slow walkers, people who don’t wipe their mouths when they’re eating.

16. What bad habits do they have?

Oh boy. They chew on their cheek, they pull on loose threads, they fidget, they’d bite their nails if polish wasn’t so damn expensive. They are willing to take anything for a temporary escape: usually alcohol and halfling weed but... they are open to other options. They also tend to switch topics quickly and usually focus on having their own reply ready instead of focusing on what the other person is saying.

17. Do they have any phobias?

Getting old. Not physically, but spiritually. In a sense, they’re afraid there’ll be a day where they wake up and realize everything they thought they’d achieve is behind them and they no longer have anything to look forward to or be excited about. Also, sailing. They get seasick easily and there’s too much about the ocean that remains unknown. No thanks.

18. How do they display affection?

They’re super physical. They hold hands a lot, and poke people, and kiss their cheeks, and lay in their laps, and would probably permanently attach themselves to someone if they could swing it. They’re all about affection. It’s intimacy, true, genuine vulnerability, that they can’t really get comfortable with. All the physical attention usually does a good job as a deterrent, though.

19. How competitive are they?

They are ridiculously competitive, even when they don’t mean to be. If they see someone else walking toward the exit at the same time as them, they consciously walk faster and when they beat the other person, who is likely completely unaware there was a race, Leo thinks to themselves, ha, I won!

20. If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be?

Bigger butt. Next question.

21. Do they have any obscure hobbies or routines?

They are really good at knitting and crocheting. A good percentage of their wardrobe is home crafted. They also collect rocks and crystals so that they can make jewelry out of them. They always considered themselves artistic, but their drawing and painting abilities were abhorrent, and their singing voice was... well, not great either. So they found their expression through clothing, which is why they make such weird and bold fashion choices.

BACKSTORY - 22. What are the names and ages of their close family members? Parents, siblings, etc.

His parents, Percival and Herron, are each 59. His brother Tiberius is 34, his sister Elexus is 31, and his brother Maximus is 23.

23. Is their family alive and are they still in contact with them?

Yes, and no. To Leo’s knowledge, they have not spoken in about seven years. They have no memory of this, but they only left home about 11 months ago.

24. Where are they from? City, nation?

They were born in Crowmire, Hegaehend. They grew up there, but ultimately moved to Khaggon in their early twenties.

25. Did they have a childhood best friend?

Leo has never had many close friends, as they tend to hold others at a distance for fear of rejection and of any other sort of downfall that would dampen their spirits. They’re open to the idea, but also no one has bothered to try and break down the walls thus far so in a way, they feel they’ve been right to build them up in the first place.

26. Have they had any pets?

They would love one, but they’re way too irresponsible. There is a stray cat that often hangs out on their windowsill. Leo calls it Blue because it is actually red, and sometimes they feed it scraps.

27. Did they grow up rich or poor? What were their living conditions like?

They grew up pretty comfortable. Their father owned several profitable businesses in Crowmire, so they were lucky to afford a house big enough to fit four children comfortably, and Leo never had to worry about going to bed hungry. All the siblings were meant to stick around and take over the businesses as their own. To Leo’s knowledge, they are the only one who left.

28. What is their educational background?

They went to school full-term, but genuinely did not apply themselves. For instance, when their mother demanded Leo take language courses, they took Draconic and Sylvan. Once they felt they’d learned everything they needed to learn, they sort of tuned it out and waited for it to be over. As a result, Leo isn’t very smart in terms of academic knowledge, but they feel they more than make up for it with street smarts and life experience. (However, they do not in fact make up for it.)

29. As a child, what did they want to be when they grew up?

A performer of some sort. They used to put on dramatic performances with their family where they’d write scripts and force each of them to play characters. Leo, of course, was always the lead. And yes, it was silly, but they actually weren’t a half bad actor. Oh well.

30. What advice would they give to their younger self?

They’d say, “If Mom ever tells you she is good at cutting hair, disagree and politely decline. And the way you’re feeling right now: overlooked, misunderstood, confused- that um... that gets better. You end up liking yourself, so, uh, you know. Might as well start right away. Oh, and when you’re at that one bar with the dog that pees on that dwarf lady, don’t smoke what she sells you. Seriously. Still don’t know where my pants went that night and those were some expensive pants.”

31. Growing up, were they ever bullied or were they the bully?

When they were younger, back before they really discovered themselves, they were bullied quite a bit. But as they grew to enjoy themselves and realized how cool they were for someone so young, they started to genuinely not care, and also they developed really good debate skills so when someone tried to belittle them, Leo usually ended up coming out with the upper hand.

32. Who do they look up to/who is their role model?

There really isn’t anyone they’d consider a role model. They are not at all like the people who raised them and there weren’t many outside influences who ever bothered to try. That might be a large reason Leo is so aimless most of the time: they don’t know which direction they want to go in yet.

PRESENT - 33. Do they currently have a place of residence?

They have an efficiency apartment that they pretty much just use to shower and, sometimes, to sleep.

34. What is their most treasured possession?

Their Reliquary! They keep it in their closet under their sewing supplies but anytime they’re going on a long trip they bring it with them.

35. What is their drink of choice?

Alcoholic. They don’t care if it is the cheapest ale or the most expensive spirit one can find. If it gets them drunk, it’s good.

36. Which king/queen are they loyal to, if any?

If they had to choose one, probably Kaylynn just because she’s the only one who isn’t currently dealing with a war. They actually don’t mind the idea of moving to Anari some day, and would seriously consider it if it didn’t mean such a long sea voyage.

37. Have they ever killed anyone?

They aren’t sure, but they hope not.

38. What was their last promise and did they keep it?

They promised their landlord that they would have the rent, and they did! Two days late, but, still.

LOVE - 39. What was their first kiss like, if they’ve had one?

They were thirteen and had to kiss a boy named Oliver at a slumber party. As far as they recall, it was not terrible. It must not have been too bad, because they kissed again several times after.

40. Are they in a relationship/have a love interest?

No. Single and terrified of intimacy, unfortunately.

41. Have they ever been in love?

They don’t think of love as some sacred thing that is rare to find; Leo has loved lots of people and lots of things and experiences and memories. Have they ever been in love? No. But if you asked them, they’d lie and say it was all the same.

42. Have they ever had their heart broken?

Absolutely. One of the reasons Leo is so guarded from everyone is because they care so easily. And they trust unwavering. And they’re devastated when things don’t pan out the way they expected them to.

SPIRITUALITY - 43. Do they follow a god, if so who?

Yes: Tymora. There was a while where Beshaba was actively trying to get them to start following her instead, but Leo doesn’t remember this. Not that it matters, they ultimately stuck with Tymora anyway.

44. What do they think happens to them after death?

They don’t know. They keep their options open, but if gods exist and magic exists then it’s perfectly reasonable to believe that there is something waiting when the journey is done.

45. What is their spirit animal?

Fox. Chaotic and sly and pretty and full of mischief.

#romtask #romtask 001 #character development

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inquisitiveboner · 7 years ago

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ADD/ADHD needs to be taken more seriously

Buckle up, this is a long one.

I have ADD, Attention Deficit Disorder, which is a branch of ADHD, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, where the hyperactivity is much milder. So basically I’m not “bouncing off the walls”. ADD is a learning disability that makes it harder for me to focus on a single task. ADD, from what I know and what I've experienced, is not the inability to focus, but rather my brain is on hyper-drive, trying to focus on every little thing around me all at once, which isn't as bad as some other learning disabilities, but it also affects my ability to do certain tasks, like when I was in school and had to do homework, large projects, or testing. Every adult, and some of the other kids throughout my school years since I was diagnosed at age 10 or 11 (I was in fifth grade at the time) has never taken my disability seriously, calling me lazy and unmotivated, because they don't understand what I go through everyday.

Yes my condition is one that can be medicated, but even then it's only a temporary solution. I can't afford the medication anymore even with health insurance cuz holy jeezums it's expensive, even the off brand is crazy expensive for a bottle of 30 pills that only work for a few hours. Even then I couldn't take a really high dosage because of 2 reasons: a.) because the side effects can cause kidney problems, and b.) taking it all the time will cause your body to build up a tolerance to the positive benefits of the medicine, basically making it worthless. Trying to stay focused on one task for upwards to hours at a time is frustrating and taxing on me, causing me to get migraines and become extremely overwhelmed at times, especially when I had to take tests. Hell, even doing commissions is a huge struggle for me at times. My anxiety levels shoot up whenever I'm in a stressful situation or on a time limit. The worst part is that ADD isn't seen as an actual disability by school systems so I never qualified for any kinds of special education classes. I almost did once, but was ultimately shot down because the administrators still didn’t see it as a valid reason for special education.

I’m not stupid, I’m not lazy, I’m not unmotivated, I just struggle with an invisible disability everyday of my life, and sometimes it does still make me feel down at times. Being told I was lazy, stupid, and all other sorts of nasty things by people who don’t understand caused me to get extremely depressed in my teens, which I also still struggle with, but that's a whole other can of worms. Plus the severity of ADD can range from person to person.The only other person in my family that has ADD is my mom, she was diagnosed with a much less severe and more manageable form of ADD years after I was diagnosed, and she still cannot understand the full extent of my struggle. I dropped out of college because it was literally too much for me to handle, because I was completely on my own with this disability I didn’t ask to be born with and was surrounded by people who didn’t understand why i was struggling. Of course, now that I haven’t been in school and have a small network of close friends, including my wife, I’ve felt a lot happier knowing that I’m not crazy or stupid, but that I’m just me and that my brain is weird and that I just have to learn Io deal with it without the luxury of having medication for my disability.

“What’s the point of this post?” I hear some of you say who stuck around and are reading to the end of this post. (Thankies by the way! I appreciate it!) My point is that I wanted to share my story, to give y’all a glimpse into what living with ADD is like for some of us and to bring at least some awareness to those of who may not even know this is a thing and to hopefully to bring comfort to others who have this disability as well and to let them know you are not stupid, you are not lazy, and you are not unmotivated. We are strong and we can do anything, it just might take a little bit longer to complete them!

Thank you again to all of you who took the time to read this and I hope you have a wonderful day!

#invisibledisability #add #adhd #buildaladder #ADD awareness #adhd awareness

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homestead-rp-blog · 7 years ago

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Name: Rhys Evan Wyles

Gender: Male, He/Him

Date of Birth: May 5th, 1995 (22)

Place of Birth: Raleigh, NC

How long has he lived in Homestead?: 10 months

Neighborhood: Key Gate

Occupation: Set Hand/Film Student

Faceclaim: Tom Holland

LIFE MOVES PRETTY FAST. IF YOU DON’T STOP AND LOOK AROUND ONCE IN A WHILE, YOU COULD MISS IT.

Born and raised in Raleigh, North Carolina, Rhys was two things: eager to learn and easy to side-track. These two characteristics made him quite the handful as a kid. He was always all over the place, always trying to do two things at once. He was rather good with his hands, often picking up things and taking them apart just to see how they worked. His parents both agreed he’d go to college and get a degree in engineering. But school was hard for Rhys. He was rowdy, had trouble concentrating, and was awful at standardized testing. Mom and Dad insisted he’d grow out of it. When he failed the third grade, they decided to have him tested for a learning disability, and he was diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. After starting on medication, school got a little easier. Rhys started absorbing material, passing tests, and staying out of the principal’s office. Mom and Dad were happy again. He knew he’d never become a mechanical engineer, but he was intent on getting good enough grades to get into college for something, which was really important to his parents.

And he did! In the fall of 2016, he officially enrolled in North Carolina Community College with a major in general studies. What he really wanted to be doing was working in technology, but he knew he would have trouble keeping up. He’d switch majors, he told himself. He’d get the general classes done and then he’d switch.

But college was not high school. He didn’t do well on his midterms, which stressed him out greatly. And the more stressed he became, the more his concentration declined. He finished out the semester with a solid C average. Which was fine. But not to Mom and Dad. Semester two was quite the same, but with a non-passing grade in statistics.

That fall of Rhys’s first semester was when “Fins” premiered. Rhys’s uncle, the famous Hollywood producer Cal Wyles, had made the move from sunny Cali to sunny Miami to film a television series centered on a teenage mermaid who transforms into a human girl to attend a public high school. The show was a huge hit and quickly got renewed for a second season. Never having had any kids of his own, Cal always said that Rhys was welcome to visit whenever now that they were inhabiting the same coast. Rhys jumped at the opportunity to see how a real T.V. show was made. He convinced his parents that it would be a good idea to take a vacation and clear his head before starting his second year. He would intern on the set and maybe even get some college credit for it. He would learn some skills from the tech guys. He would come back confident.

The moment Rhys stepped foot on the set, he fell instantly in love. He loved the cameras; he loved the sound equipment; he loved the lights – he loved all of it. He interned that whole summer and talked Cal into letting him stay with him in Homestead while they filmed season two. He has yet to prove to his parents that it’s a good idea.

With his eyes set on the cameras themselves, Rhys’s fingers itch to man one, to move the actors around like chess pieces and figure out how scenes really work. When he’s on set seems to be the only time that things really make sense to him. For the first time, he’s able to concentrate, he picks up new skills quickly, and he isn’t stammering over his words. Well, when the camera is rolling, that is. He has now decided that he is going to do whatever it takes to become a real director. He’s re-enrolled in school (much to his parents’ delight) at Miami-Dade College and attends classes at their Homestead campus as a film student.

Two things Rhys has always loved are films and video games. He loves being able to leave the chaos of his mind and become absorbed in another world, if only for an hour or two. Movies are the one thing he will talk to anyone about for any length and at any time. Rhys is very easy to talk to, however, his mind tends to work too far ahead of him at times. He’s known to stammer, talk too quickly, mix up words and phrases, or even look right at you and not hear a word you say. He’s also extremely polite and tends to avoid confrontation, so sometimes he can be seen as weak and a pushover. He’s just a gentle soul who has big dreams! If he remembers to take his medication, he might actually surprise you.

#bio #m #key gate #rhys wyles

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earlgreyandadderall-blog · 7 years ago

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Hellooooooo!

Hi there Internet people (or most likely like, five friends, my mom, and my aunt who are reading this because I posted it on Facebook), and welcome to my blog!

If you didn't link to this directly from my Facebook, and can’t tell by my blog name (which maybe you can’t, because a fancy tea and a drug people take to pull all-nighters is a super vague name for a website), this blog is all about my life as a girl who has ADHD. I’m twenty-two years old, in my final year of my international relations degree, and will be starting law school in September. I’ve always been a top student, did competitive Irish dance from grade one to grade twelve, have worked in political activism since I was fifteen, and hope to one day work on Track II Diplomacy and truth and reconciliation initiatives in Northern Ireland. Two months ago, I was also diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.

Lemme tell you- that explained A LOT. Like, A WHOLE LOT. The last two months may have been the most important of my life, as I’ve finally started getting effective treatment (four years after the first time I saw a doctor for my mental wellbeing). Now I start my day with 10 mg Adderall XR, and have spent a lot of time figuring out not-medicinal ways to further improve my life and make my world work the way I need it to. I’ve been thinking about starting a YouTube channel or a blog for the last week or so, so- here I am!

What made me decide to start this blog? There are three reasons.

#1 - NEW EXCITING PROJECT! ADHD brains love new exciting projects.

...there’s nothing deeper to this. I just really wanted to make a blog.

#2 - There are so few resources out there for women and girls with ADHD, and the articles and studies you will find are super super boring and just repeat the same information over and over again. “Many girls with ADHD aren’t diagnosed until post-secondary!” “The needs of girls with ADHD get overlooked because they aren’t disruptive and often do well in school!” Yeah, tell me something I don’t know. Honestly, I learned more about my own experiences and what I’ve been struggling with my whole life from one woman’s YouTube channel (HowToADHD is absolute MUST for women and girls with this diagnosis; it changed my life) than I did from my psychiatrist, psychologist, and every article about ADHD in girls that I could find on the internet. I wanted to create content that’s fun, relatable, and actually helps other girls like me understand what’s going on inside their heads and how to deal with it.

#3 - Honestly, I wanted to create a more positive representation of ADHD in girls than what I’ve been seeing on social media lately. What I’m about to say might not go down well with everyone in the mental health/disability community, but frankly, I don’t care. The general mental illness community on social media is toxic as hell. I first encountered this in high school, when I briefly had a recovery Instagram while I was struggling with anorexia. (By the way, did you know that girls with ADHD are at a higher risk of developing an eating disorder than other girls?) For every account that genuinely encouraged recovery and celebrated their victories while being transparent about their struggles, there were four accounts asking for tips on how not to gain weight when you’re hooked up to a feeding tube. I’ve heard from other people that there is a similar toxicity in the community around chronic illness and chronic pain. I follow this super brave and strong girl named Daisy on instagram, who has Ehlers-Danlos and Complex Regional Pain Syndrome (which apparently is literally the worst pain the world). She recently shared that she had to leave all of the “support” groups for chronic pain that she was in on Facebook because they were breeding a culture that encouraged people to stay at home in bed and mope rather than to continue seeking out the best possible treatments and live the fullest live that they possibly can. I hate to say it, but lately I’ve noticed the same sort of trend among people who have ADHD. It’s almost hard to believe that me and some of the people I’ve observed on Facebook and Tumblr have the same diagnosis. This is harsh but I’m just gonna say it- there is an awful trend of people with ADHD refusing to take accountability for their behaviour or to realize that just because you have a neurodevelopmental disorder does not mean that you can never ever be the person in the wrong. ADHD is an explanation for certain behaviours, not an excuse. Because of my ADHD, I have done things and treated people in ways that I am not proud of, but having ADHD does not excuse this behaviour. I was overjoyed to finally get an explanation for why I act the way I do sometimes- especially one that is as highly treatable as ADHD is. I wasted no time looking into strategies for coping with the unique struggles that I have and working on the resultant bad behaviours. There was not one moment of sadness over this diagnosis- just a relief that I finally had somewhere to start my journey towards being better. Beyond just using it as an excuse for everything, I’ve also seen a huge trend of people being more focused on self-pity than on self-care and self-improvement. These are the moments that I am really, really glad that I wasn’t diagnosed until I was 22. Do I wish I knew about Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria before I let my experience with it push away my best friend to the point that he blocked my number for six months? Of course I do. Do I regret losing an entire academic year because I couldn’t motivate myself? Do I wish I knew I wasn’t just being lazy, because maybe then I wouldn’t have been ashamed to ask for help? Obviously. But despite that, I’m glad I wasn’t diagnosed as a child or a teenager. Why? Because I grew up believing I was just like everyone else else. I grew up without a reason to think that I couldn’t do anything anyone else could do. I’m glad I didn’t grow up with an easy excuse for every mistake I made. I’m glad my parents never felt the need to go easy on me and I’m glad I wasn’t weighed down by this idea that I was inherently incapable of achieving my lofty goals. Was it really, really, REALLY hard sometimes? You bet. Did I often wonder why I couldn’t focus like everyone else could, or why relationships were so hard for me? Of course I did. But I’m glad I never had the opportunity to sit back and say “well I just can’t do it because I have ADHD and that’s that.” Would I have graduated high school with a 95% GPA if I had been diagnosed as a child? Would I have pushed myself to take a full French program in university when I only had grade 12 core French? Would I have written the LSAT, and scored a 162 even though I barely studied for it? Probably not, because looking at the ADHD community that I’m a newcomer to, I have a sinking feeling that I wouldn’t have pushed myself half as hard as I did. Being forced to muddle through and try to keep up with no help for as long as I did instilled in me the best gift possible: a positive attitude, and a firm belief that I can do anything I set my mind to.

So what does that have to do with this blog? Well, I wanted to create a space where ADHD is not seen as something that necessarily holds us back. I want to encourage approaching life with ADHD with a positive attitude. I want this to be a space where fellow ADHD brains can come for tips on studying for the LSAT and MCAT, share the workouts and sleep hygiene that help them focus, and talk about how they prepare things the night before so they don’t forget anything in the morning- not a space where people come to complain about how unfair it is that your boss wasn’t understanding of the fact that you were 25 minutes late for work. I’m not saying having ADHD isn’t a huge challenge, or that sometimes, despite our best efforts, we aren’t going to mess up. Because we are. A lot. And I’m not saying it’s not okay to be bummed out about those mess ups, or to sometimes feel like life isn’t fair. But instead of focusing on the negative, I want to focus on encouraging, empowering, and helping each other to never give up and to not let those occasional mess ups become what defines us.

I’m going to try to post once a week, but with exam season upon us, I can’t guarantee that that will happen- at least not right away. However, despite the ADHD tendency to abandon projects, this is something I’m really passionate about, so I’m going to try to post here as often as possible. In the next couple of days I’ll be making a post about common ADHD symptoms in girls that are often overlooked if we don’t fit the “typical” disruptive, hyperactive image of a kid with ADHD.

Until next time!

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