#i feel so much more autistic than normal and i cannot explain it any other way

[chilipepperconverse]

fucking out of my mind rn this is the autism weed

[plznomonkeys]

I cannot add the screenshot but saw your comment about the process of making OCs. please share yours cuz I'm so curious!

I had literally 5k words written out explaining the process and thought 'nobody needs to read that' and just shortened it to point form. It was a lot of rambling......

Anywho

OC's, in my mind, fill a void that I feel a story is missing. I mean, no whole story is necessarily missing something, but it is in my perspective. Usually OC's are born from something I disliked with the original work or felt could've been handled differently.

So the tip of inspiration is a 'What If?' moment.

"What if L had someone on task force -with more than 2 brain cells- on his side?"- Death Note

"What if Naruto had a friend growing up who loved him?" - Naruto

"What if Truth was an even bigger dick and tortured someone's soul through reincarnation until they finally learned to break the cycle?"- FullMetal Alchemist

"What if a main character didn't have a damsel in distress as a love interest?" - Bleach

The what if is the first point to creation. It gives me an anchor of reference, of purpose, to this character. It's not to make them a plot device, but it helps me shape around what the reason for building them is. Everyone needs a purpose to have fulfillment in their lives, even if it's just to feed your cat and water your plants. You have a purpose, so what is my OC's? There's usually a moment in the story that inspires this specific purpose and each one is different.

Great, now that we have a purpose, let's move on.

Part 1: What's the start and ending?

It doesn't matter what the story is yet. To me, what's important is the end of this character's story. Where do they end up? Are they alive? Dead? Did they end up with love interest? Did they succeed in their goals? etc.

Despite how crucial this part might seem, I'm never dead set on it. I have a general idea most of the time.

The point of the ending is to have guidance as to where I'm going with the story line and remind myself that this character is moving in that direction. It can also change once you know your character more and once you have a fully fleshed plot, but again you'll change it likely because it works more with the OC you've created.

Now that you've got an ending, pick a starting point. It can be literally anywhere. It can be another character POV. Beginnings are really easy, just pick a place you want to begin and write a few words. Great, now figure out how this beginning meets that ending. Rough sketch it, when you write it out it'll change and grow, that's perfectly okay. No character is the same at the start and finish, so be aware that change is normal.

Part 2: What's the secret?

Every character that has any level of depth has a secret that is revealed in the story. L's successors was a big one. Naruto's parentage was theorized for years before being confirmed. Aizen's betrayal in Bleach was another. What big secret changes the reader's view on the character? What do the other characters think?

Part 3: How are they compatible with their pairings?

Legit this one comes up early in my mind. If I'm completely honest it has to, as you already have a character that is fully fleshed out and in order to keep them in character then your OC needs to adhere to the canon character's interests IMO. It's the reality of it. Which also means you have to know the canon character really well. Which is where character analysis comes in.

Let's take L for example. While I imagine he's the type to make his partner comfortable regardless of their wants/needs, I also see him as the guy who would legit rather die that admit those feelings at first? Like I subscribe to him being a little autistic and mildly self-degrading when it comes to 'why would they like me?' perspectives.

I say mildly because it's not so much he has no confidence as simply 'I literally have no internal clock, I likely have uncontrolled diabetes and broke my back on my own from sitting like this all day, I will ignore your very existence to finish a case and I literally haven't been home in god knows how long, so why would you ever have feelings for me?' It's illogical for L to entertain the idea of someone feeling that way about him because he simply doesn't fit the profile of a dating candidate. And so he disregards the idea that someone could ever be interested in him. Never mind he'd have to know everything about them down to their god damn SIN number before he'd ever see them in person.

So yeah, L's tough, but not impossible. I could see him with a character who really enamours him. I mean as in a character who thinks so radically different from him that at first he sees it as illogical, but progressively he begins to understand how they tick. I could see him being especially fascinated with someone who is very capable of lying convincingly, and yet wears their heart on their sleeve. I find this type of person to be so opposite and yet so similar at the same time.

Now that you have their OTP.... what other pairings are there? Contrary to the belief system, but there are multiple pairings in every story. Pairings don't have to be romantic, but they must be dynamic. What do other characters think of them? How would they interact with each other? I usually know intuitively who I want my OC to befriend and who they realistically could get along with.

This is, quite literally, the toughest part to flesh out, since I work pretty hard to try and stick to canon.

Part 4: Define your character in one scene?

As I said in the What If? section, each character is born from a specific scene or idea. So what is the scene in the story that defines the entirety of this character? For L I think his defining moment was his lil speech about 'do you really think I do this for justice?' in the manga. It brought into perspective that L was having fun on this case, and when he was 'wrong' about Light his temper tantrum made so much more sense honestly.

Characters need a scene in the story that really lets the reader understand the character on a deeper level and really drives home 'this is a person' even though they're not real it makes them feel raw and real.

Part 5: Motivations

Okay, great, we have so much covered, literally I could probably just go off this and wing the rest. But now we gotta ask why is OC even in the story? Why are they a moving puzzle piece? What made them get to their ending? What did they sacrifice? What's the most important thing to them? Why? Knowing why a person moves is far superior to simply wanting them to move. Why did Light swap the notebooks between shinigami? To keep Ryuk's big mouth away and Rem up close to L. Why did L confront Light at uni? Because he had enough sugar to kill a camel in his system and a gut feeling that Light was Kira and would eventually fold under pressure if he pushed him enough.

Part 6: The Plot

Okay so we've got literally everything necessary. So what's the plot? Is it AU? Partial AU? Canon compliant? Does it just follow canon to a certain point and then go off the rails? Personally I like canon divergent. It holds some points of interest with the original plot but diverges at points only to link up in some spots. I also am a huge fan of making events happen in different time frames.

And now.... where do the OC's affect the story? I mean there's no way that Death Note is a completely unchanged story despite another character being added? Something has changed, so what? Do certain events not occur? Does something better befall certain characters? Something worse?

I am also a stickler for universe rules. I do no bend rules for my characters unless I can come up with a universe compliant reason that it would work. I try to respect the original author's world...... but I will do whatever the hell I want with the characters as long as they're in character.

Part 7: The personal touch

Believe it or not, the appearance of the character is the literal last thing to even cross my mind. Like I legit started writing a Naruto fanfic and realized in 8 chapters I hadn't a clue what she looked like. I had to go to pinterest and make a board, along with a character bio in my notes app. I pic out the height, weight, hairstyle/hair colour, eye shape/eye colour, face, aesthetic, any scars/tattoos they may have and I put it on my notes/pinterest board. Now that I know their story is so I know why they'd have that scar or tattoo. I know why they have that kind of look in their eye. I know everything about them really.

The last bit is mostly spreading this personal touch through the above mentioned steps. It's fleshing it out further, making them more flowing in growth. When did they get the scar? Why that tattoo? Does it affect the story?

Attractiveness is something I debate a lot, and honestly it mostly comes down to plot. If a character needs to be pretty because of the plot I write them as attractive. If they need to be ugly that's what they are. Full disclosure, I see through my OC's eyes when I imagine scenes since I like to write in first person. Meaning I never remember their appearance and always have to review the notes to remind myself what they look like at all.

---

Ok, I think I got everything? So yeah, this is the fuck fest two brain cells can come up with. Keep in mind it is a cyclic mentality and I am perpetually editing and upgrading ideas in my brain. My newest OC to Death Note has literally changed so dramatically in 5 days just by doing this process 3 times that you'd think they were two different characters. It really helps me know my OC's honestly. Do I follow this to the T? Not always, but it is generally the process I subscribe to.

Hope this was a good read, cheers.

Also sorry if I did this wrong I've never posted on tumblr before this year god save my soul

[reallyprofoundkryptonite]

Why do you draw this particular character so often? This worries me a bit.

I saw your drawings of a "krogan" with albinism.

It's not very wise to repaint a character who has a "healthy" skin color and turn him into albinism or melanism. People with albinism are not a fetish that you can transform your characters into.

Would you feel good if you suffered from albinism and suddenly someone decided that for the sake of his "au" they would repaint their character/ oc so that they would also suffer from it?

This isn't hate, I just want to know your way of thinking. I felt a bit uncomfortable when next to "au's" like cyborg or mermaid I noticed "albinism au" as if it were some weird. creature or fictional species.

I just don't understand. Is this some kind of fetish or fantasy? A strange desire to become an albino? (even though you wouldn't want to be, believe me)

I repeat - it's just a question. No hate, please don't take it so strongly.

[The question is private, please do not share it publicly. But it's up to you - what you think]

/by the way - there are animals that cannot be albinos, such as horses

First of all. No. I’m not setting this to private. This is the SECOND ask i have gotten with similar perimeters in my inbox in the past day and, personally that is extremely fishy to me, considering the fact that this is coming from a blog that was made that is not following anyone, has no likes, and hasn’t posted anything which leads me to the conclusion that this is the original person who asked the question with that same exact asks’s alt account.

Now I might just be throwing out things into the water, however, I’d rather be safe than sorry. By the way, because I have already answered asks about why I like Krogan in the past. which you can find if you dig around my blog, I won’t be going into graphic detail because there’s already an ask that ANSWERS that question on my blog somewhere if you would go look for it.

But anyways.

1. I’m autistic. I have a hyperfixation on this specific character. I just like him and i cannot put it into words.

2. I am asexual. I do not have a “Fetish.” As you would put it. I am an asexual and I am actively sex repulsed. I do not need to offer you any more of an explanation as to why trying to say I have a fetish is gross.

3. It’s. An AU. An alternate universe. I like exploring other possibilities for canon. That’s… literally it. Nothing else to explain there. I don’t see albinos as “less than.” I do not see them as something that “doesn’t exist” or whatever. I am not stupid. Yes, there are animals that cannot be albinos however humans are inherently a species that carries this trait so I don’t know what you’re trying to point out there.

4. I should also point out that using the wording you did to state that while yes, albinism is an inherently dangerous condition that does have its risks with people, I have done more than enough research to understand that there are ways to keep their skin healthy. The fact that they are so extremely pale complected is due to a genetic mutation that causes a lack of pigment in the skin, eyes and hair. It can lead to skin cancer due to having no melanin however plenty of people with the condition live completely normal lives, so referring to the individual afflicted with albinism as being “unhealthy” is inherently ableist.

Also i myself am so pale i’m fucking translucent in some lights. I don’t have to “fantasize” about being pale.

5. Melanisim is an over abundance of pigment within the flesh. I haven’t done as much research on the topic and i won’t claim to be an expert in any way because I am not but still, referring to someone like this is inherently ableist regardless simply because they have a pigment mutation.

6. AUs are inherently just that. Alternate universes. It’s not saying that a real life condition that people have doesn’t exist. It’s an alternative version of canon. That’s it.

[jacksprostate]

Regarding your take on neuroscience and mental illness what are your thoughts on placing people on a spectrum when it comes to ASD?

Frankly my opinion on this is once again incredibly unpopular for something on the eternal baby site. I'm not gonna get all the way into it but I'm going to put a little bit under the cut.

I'm not quite sure how to say this tbh, because no matter what I say it will probably be taken badly. And I actually have a lot of nuanced things to say on this topic but I can't write pages for everything. So I think I'm just gonna address one thing, which extends a bit into other things as well.

On tumblr and tiktok and in general, there is a very large contingent of kids and adults who desperately do not want to grow up who are burying themselves in diagnoses as a way to explain their mild (I do not say this to be cruel, but I mean it literally. Are you in normal schooling? Do you have a few friends, or an ingroup (INCLUDING you and all your x diagnosis buddies) Are you relatively independent? If we are talking about severe mental health disorders or neurodevelopment, that's mild. I would describe my own as mild on that scale) problems relative to their peers in a way that is encouraged and considered Valid Suffering and InGroup with their friends and community.

It's natural. You're very lost as a kid, you want to belong, you feel behind, like everything is more of a struggle for you than others. It's unfair you need to put so much more effort in to achieve a lesser result. You shouldn't have to, you feel. And there's a community of people who feel the same, and you're just like them, it nets you friends and an excuse and a right to think of people who want you to change as cruel.

And I am not saying, these kids aren't suffering, or don't have problems. But, for example, I may as well kick this hornet's nest: the sudden rise in children identifying as DID systems using terminology all invented on tumblr and expecting everyone cater to their current roleplay or else be considered ableist, is like, a lot. It's a lot. Social issues and identities have always been a tumblr clout measure and a way to get friends and shit. The systems thing is honestly one of the pinnacles of like, no, I'm not mean for pointing out the obvious. No, even the kids who say it can only be caused by trauma and are doing an rp of having the disorder rather than an outright rp, they also almost absolutely do not have the disorder. For many, many, many reasons which any degree of research into the disorder would illuminate. But that's not the point of it. For the kids who just like the rp aspect, they get to be the free love side of things. The kids that want to feel a sense of social justice will cling to the Actually x side of things. But they're both on sand.

Anyway, I used DID as an example because I really don't feel like ignoring that elephant anymore, if you (generic) think I'm mean for that then that's your problem and you should probably log off and do your math homework etc.

But, to a lesser degree of fakeness (because that's near total haha), this also applies to the online autistic community. And many others. That is not to say autistic people do not exist, or that they cannot be kids, or that they aren't caught up in the same social wave these kids are. In fact I'd bet some are thriving in it. Some though probably feel quite isolated.

Side note, but this does feel like the effect of calling people posers becoming weird anathema. It's not cruel to not believe in other people's things. I don't believe in otherkin either. I am an extremely scientific, grounded person. That said, I'm not gonna lambast any kid over it. At most I won't engage. I know a lot of people feel very hurt over the idea of not every person believing in Their Thing, but not everyone has the same faith or opinions or worldview. It just is how it is.

In the long and short of it, I do think there is a spectrum for ASD, I don't think it extends as far as tumblr advocates, I think there is a natural spectrum for human social development and I also think it's something that can be worked on. Anyway, I'm sure I'll be called an out of touch neurotypical for this because that's the easiest way to dismiss this lol. Very easy to assume those criticising you can't possibly be in x group. Certainly, I don't consider myself autistic. I know plenty of people who do consider me such including some psych personnel (not that I consider that more valuable than some guy walking down the street). I think I represent probably 1.5-2 standard deviations from the usual human experience and I just don't think that cuts it tbh.

[fionacle]

My college essay is 725 words, I need to cut it down to 600 by time my dad gets home today, but I like how it is now, so I’m posting it. It’s about how autistic people are viewed in society and the misuse of the word special to refer to them (us?). It’s below the cut.

I couldn’t tell you the first time it happened, most things before high school are a blur, but I’ve often heard others called special. The usage of this is not what special is supposed to mean. Special things are supposed to be important and unique, they matter a lot, it’s a very high compliment if you say it genuinely. But here it’s condescending. Like this is the core of the person being spoken about, and that core is a taboo. Like it’s pity for an illness, or warning of danger. They say the word as though they’re describing a creature, some animal of lesser mind.

“I’m proud of you for being friends with him.” “Why?” “Oh, you know, he’s special.”

To speak with one of ‘them’ is seen as a sacrificial act rather than basic human decency toward a human.

I love being praised. More than anything else in the world. I need to know I matter, to feel skilled and important, the good kind of special. But when I’m praised for something like this I feel dirty. I always try to be the hero when I see someone’s upset, even when it’s unneeded or undeserved, but not here. If I accept this praise it means I agree that I had to do something significant and difficult. It means that my friend is just a challenge that I beat. So, not only would I be lying, I’d also be insulting my friend, even if he wouldn’t be in earshot.

I want nothing more in life than to be special. The good kind.

I want to finish writing a book and become famous for it. I want adoring fans, and to make a difference in their lives. I want to be talked about as someone cool and worthy of awe and respect, maybe even envy. I want to know that my friends consider me important and good. I want everyone I meet to be so earnest about liking me that it forces out any thought about not being worth their time. I want to carry around the good special for everyone.

The word isn’t really that important to me, I don’t hold any affection for it. But I’m upset that it dehumanizes others, and mostly I’m upset that it dehumanizes me.

When I go into testing rooms, I’ve been to quite a few since childhood, they present games to test my brain. This is an awful way for me to show my symptoms. I do the best I can because it’s fun and I want to show off. I tend not to have “off” days when I visit them, especially because I’m rarely around triggers. They don’t see me cry because the lunch man took my apple juice cap. They don’t see me flail around because I hear someone chewing gum. They don’t hear my autistic friends explain to me how my experiences match theirs to an alarming degree. I need them to see my tears in action. I need to take my memories out of my brain and show them. They need to know everything I’ve done and they need to put a word to it and let me tell people.

Then, maybe, they won’t tell me to stop. To stop being too weird. Stop being too emotional. Stop being afraid of things no one else cares about. Stop “misidentifying” emotions. Stop all of it. To just be normal. Because no matter how much they want it to be true it’s not. It’s not. It never will be. I cannot be. I’m not normal.

There’s something both cathartic and terrifying in saying that.

“Stop doing that or they’ll think you’re special.”

If neither normal or special are options, what else do you want me to be?

People I’ve known for a year can see it. Why can’t you, who’s known me my whole life? Stop making that face when I bring this stuff up, don’t tell me I’m copying my friends, don’t tell me my friends are weak. They are not weak, and neither am I when I act like them. When I am true to myself I am strong. Don’t tell me that strength isn’t the real me. But I think they still ought to know me as “bad” special, as much as I hate the word, because then at least they’d know me.

[honeymochibubbletea]

Hewwo! Did you know that today is autism awareness day? Could we have some headcanons for a autistic darling with Phantasmo??? Pretty please?🥺

Ohohoho~! I’m not only going to give you some headcanons of an autistic reader with Phantasmo: i am also going to give you some autistic Phantasmo headcanons!

Why? Because i headcanon Phantasmo as an autistic person (or ghost in his case) or at least autistic-coded:

Some (undiagnosed) autistic Phantasmo headcanons with an autistic darling:

Phantasmo may think you’re a little “exotic” at first but impressively he quickly becomes way more attached to you than he would with others that are neurotypical (i think that’s how you call people who are not in the autistic spectrum…? I dunno, please correct me if I’m wrong!)

He just thinks you are really something else and kind of funny in a way? Like: you amuse him with, well, being yourself! (But with more flavor and being blunt way too transparent!)

He sometimes see himself in you and he can’t quite explain why… T-oby then suggests that his dad should take a test (and be diagnosed) to see if he wasn’t also autistic… needless to say: Phantasmo finds the idea way too ridiculous, i mean, he? Being AUTISTIC? No… he possibly can’t be! (Context: Phantasmo comes from a century where being autistic wasn’t seen as a good thing nor a “normal” one… people from Phantasmo’s time would ridicule openly people with any disability and even harass or do worse with them… that’s why Phantasmo/Victor doesn’t want to believe a person/ghost like him would be considered… “”defective”” (i am using a word here of what i used to hear on my childhood… before i was even diagnosed with autism… but was also considered “”defective”” by others… that was mid 2006 and 2010… and sometimes even still this day…)) he’s too perfect to be autistic! He’s way too prettier too! He can’t-

Then you heard him saying out loud all those terrible things about how he couldn’t be autistic… you started getting angry but even more disappointed and… heartbroken about how autistic people aren’t pretty nor smart according to his own words… you then started running out of his house and both him and T-oby tried to reach you but you were gone…

The worst part is that he kind of realized how stupid those stereotypes and hurtful ideas were about people like you: you are pretty, has a lot of wit, you’re… you are definitely not anything what people from his time used to say about autistic people!

He knew he had to apologize to you… he then saw under his feet a card that you have made for him and a present. The card said: “dear Phantasmo, i… started developing some feelings for you… i… i really, really, REALLY like you so much… and if you were also autistic, just know you WILL have my support and love! I won’t stop loving you any less, if anything, I would love you even MORE because it would be another common thing we have! ;) sorry if this letter seems a little too short and straightforward… but i think that’s all i can manage to write… words cannot describe how much i adore you~! Xoxo Y/N”

Needless to say… Phantasmo was in tears… he couldn’t believe how… he was so adamant about being also autistic… he felt like an idiot… T-oby seeing his dad so sad, had an idea: Phantasmo would give the test results to Y/N and would apologize by also gifting them something too!

Phantasmo agreed to the idea and peaked inside the present you gave him: it was a pink shirt with the autistic creature with a print saying: “hmm… i may be different: deal with it :3”

Phantasmo let out a small chuckle and put on the shirt (after he took off his sweater and lab coat… it was a bit tight against his chest but it was alright… nothing too uncomfortable)

After some hours, Phantasmo and T-oby knocked on your house’s door and you opened it… only for you to angrily shut it almost on their faces, which T-oby managed to place his feet in between and let out a pained “mmh!”

After some convincing, you let them enter your home…

Phantasmo then gave you the test results of his mental state and… he was indeed autistic! He also handed you a plushie of the autistic creature with a tiny bow on its “neck”…

All the anger that was inside of you vanished completely and… you hugged him tightly before kissing him and asking if he… well, wasn’t upset that he was autistic…

He (after some seconds recovering from your kiss, he could feel some steam coming out of his mouth and “ears”) said that at first it was hard to swallow this pill… but then he was happy because he realized that the stereotypes and hurtful ideas he had about autistic people weren’t true at all… you smiled with tears in your eyes and kissed him again~

T-oby watching everything unfolding smoothly and giving you two a thumbs up with a big smile on his face~

Now for some quick autistic (diagnosed) Phantasmo headcanons! Yippeeeee!

Phantasmo definitely stims when he’s excited about something! (He mostly stims using his ghost tail)

He lightly chews his fingers when he’s angry or nervous about something!

His tick is twirling his ghost tail between his fingers unconsciously!

He’s always torn between being a touch starved or being touch repulsed!

His hyper fixations are: horror movies and books; anything scientific related and classical music!

As you may all have noticed… this was supposed to be released on the autism awareness month… (yeah, yeah, i know… i’m way behind schedule… but oh well… *shrugs*)

Also, Phantasmo belongs to @fluffffpillow! (Ps: hey fluff, if you happen to see this… would my silly headcanon be considered a half truth to you? Also… please don’t get angry at me, this is all just some random headcanons that been swirling through my mind for a while now…)

[miss-kittyy]

Rewriting Briarlight and Longtail’s Deaths

So I am disabled, like very disabled, I am %50 of the teenagers ever diagnosed with my special combination of pain disorders, and I also unfortunately hyper fixated on warrior cats, which is bad news for me because warrior cats is super ableist, and to add insult to injury, the fandom can also be pretty ableist.

My biggest problem with the majority of “anti-ableist” AUs is that they “fix” the ableism stemming from the narrative and able bodied characters by making the disabled character less disabled, this so bad for many reasons. I’ve talked more about in other posts. The justification that real life disabled cats are less doesn’t make it not ableist, since when was warrior cats meant to be realistic? If you’re making an au where the disabled cats function like actual disabled cats you also have to make all the cats genetically accurate, and retcon Lionblaze lifting a tree.

My problem with warrior cats is not that the disabled characters cannot become full conventional warriors, I’d like it if they got to choose what duties the perform instead of being crammed into the medicine den, but I don’t care about Cinderpelt not being able to complete a marathon. Most of the fandom seems to think the issue is that the disabled character are not useful enough, instead of the way that able bodied characters deny of them agency and make remarks like “you wouldn’t want to return to a life like her’s would you?”. Disabled people do not need to be “useful” to be worthy and empowering.

It’s very obvious that most of the fandom just wants the disabled cats to be more palatable to abled bodied people, so I’ve decided to make my own rewrite instead to hopefully make myself feel better. A lot of these things are inspired by my own experiences and not every disabled person is looking for the same things in representation, this is totally self indulgent.

The goal of this AU is to highlight the many unique and valuable aspects disability and how being disabled does not infringe upon anyone’s worth, ever.

- Longtail doesn’t die in the storm, Briarpaw is still injured, but he’s found besides her, trying his best to help her cling to life.

- after Briarpaw begins to recover he stands up to Millie and other cats insulting her quality of life, he says her journey will be hard, but it is one worth taking.

- She asks him why he’s an elder, and he decides to request to have his warrior ship restored as Briarpaw is dreading the life of an elder.

- On his first patrol the cats accompanying him insist on speaking to him in an incredibly infantilism tone, and whispering amongst themselves over what he can or can’t do, without consulting him,

- He initially gives up on patrolling after that insufferable experience.

- Briarlight begins to create marks and blobs on the wall of the medicine den using crushed up dead herbs she asks him to retrieve some berries for her, and he complies.

- Jayfeather shows him how he navigates the territory with the help of some of the sighted cats, and Mousefur is quick to volunteer as his guide. He finds her company surprisingly empowering. He realizes that it was not his blindness which was limiting his abilities, but the other cats attitudes.

- Mousefur and Longtail return with mouthful of berries and herbs, Briarlight describes to him what she’s drawing on the side of the den and he helps he mound the materials into paint.

- The cats begin to pop into the medicine den to see Briarlights painting and soon Jayfeather has to kick her out occasionally so they’d stop crowding him, she’s given the walls of camp to decorate instead.

- She begins to illustrate Longtails stories of the old territory and Bloodclan, and this new form of storytelling becomes a tradition amongst Thunderclan.

- because more young cats are aware of the clans history it becomes harder for the dark forest to recruit them, unfortunately, Blossomfall’s resentment towards her sister means she never cared to listen.

- Ivypool is still recruited and trained like in canon, given her relationship with the dark forest was much more emotionally charged and manipulative than just plain lies.

- at a gathering Longtail meets Grasspelt who inquires about Briarlight, Longtail is surprised about how little he knows as the she-cat had mentioned how well they got along as apprentices. Despite Millie nagging him not to tell him the truth about her daughter he does anyways, but puts much more emphasis on how well she’s doing than Millie expected. Grasspelt thinks this sounds really cool and decides that he is going to see her and her paintings, and that nobody can stop him. Longtail makes sure to put any opposing cat in their place, but Briarlight is a very respected Clanmate, so most warriors don’t say anything.

- Briarlight is nervous and doesn’t want to come out of the medicine den at first, but when Grassheart darts into the den holding berries and flowers for her to paint with she quickly warms up to her visitor.

- Grassheart is happy to tell Briarlight that he’s never been able to be a “functioning” warrior, and that he has always imagined that his spirit is shaped different, the medicine cat says his body is normal, but he’s never been able to keep focus in a fight or react as quickly as he should be able to while hunting. (He’s autistic because I say so)

- As dusk nears he’s visually hesitant to return to Riverclan and when Longtail inquires on why he says that he hasn’t felt so “here” for a long time. On the way back he wanders off and comes back with a chipmunk, when returning to Riverclan territory his father, Mintfur, is shocked to see his catch. After talking with his family a bit he realizes that it was the noise from the river that was making him so tense and dissociated, Brackenfur, who was escorting him, notices that he keeps rubbing himself on the ground and wincing.

- For the next couple moons Grasspelt returned to Thunderclan to bring Briarlight plants that only grow in Riverclan territory, he begins trying to fish from the quite lazy stream in their territory and soon both him and Briarlight have got it down.

- Longtail notices the sadness present whenever Grasspelt left and exclaims that it’s rather stupid that he’s living somewhere so unsuited for him just because of words long repeated.

- Grasspelt confesses that he feels the same, but knew he wasn’t supposed to say anything. Briarlight tells Longtail that her and the Riverclan warrior had been thinking of each other as mates for moons.

- Longtail accompanies Jayfeather to the next half moon meeting where he proposes his addition to the warrior code, “no cat should be confined to laws which harm them due to an inherent physical or spiritual difference.” (Cats don’t really know how brains work, so they see mental disabilities as a difference within a cats spirit)

- A moon later the leaders meet to discuss this proposition, it is accepted and Grasspelt makes the journey to Thunderclan for the final time.

- Grasspelt is renamed Grassspirit when becoming a Thunderclan warrior, unlike prior renaming of disabled cats this is a celebration.

- Grassspirit spends most of his time taking care of the elders and kits, he’s incredibly compassionate especially with kits and is able to solve many problems within the nursery.

- When twigkit and Violetkit arrive in Thunderclan Briarlight and Grassspirit help raise them, after Violetkit is taken Briarlight and Twigkit paint her on the side of Thunderclan camp.

- Briarlight still gets sick and her illness progresses without any treatment, Grassspirit notices her trying to hide it and when Longtail finds out he’s very upset. Jayfeather frantically treats her, expressing his frustration that she didn’t tell them sooner, the second Millie steps out she breaks down and explains that she just wanted to deal with it herself, and perhaps if she were successful Millie would finally treat her like an adult.

- Longtail gives Millie a stern talking to, he tells her that Briarlight is a warrior of Thunderclan and as her clanmate she should show her some respect.

- Millie is inherently very reactionary, as she had not realized the full extent of her suffocation, but eventually after a couple moons her and Briarlight begin to rekindle their relationship, like adults.

- Blossomfall sees how Brairlight wasn’t basking in their mother’s attention like she imagined, and feels the urge to seek out an actual sisterhood after ignoring Briarlight for moons and moons.

- Briarlight isn’t really mad at her sister, and understands why she felt the way she did. Jayfeather suggests that Blossomfall help Briarlight with her painting, Blossomfall seems put off with the suggestion of being her sister’s assistant.

- The interactions that follow are less than ideal, Blossomfall commends Briarlight’s able friends (Thornclaw, Poppyfrost, Alderheart, etc) for being so nice to her, as if that’s not what friends do. She seems very sad the entire time, sighing when her sister dragged her legs around with her mouth to sit more comfortably, even though she was completely fine. When watching her paint she comments that it’s good she has “something to keep her busy”, and finally she expresses her view, of Briarlight’s injury and her (Blossomfall’s) suffering being all worth it because of her talents, as if her life was not worth living to begin with.

- Briarlight tells her that if that’s truly what she wants she’s going to have to put more effort into understanding and respecting her way of life, and that she won’t apologize for their mother’s actions.

- When Blossomfall has her kits they take a liking to Auntie Briarlight, and Blossomfall seems to have reflected on their past interactions, trusting her sister to watch her kits. Briarlight teases a bit, a subtle way of telling her not to rush things, but they do begin to feel like something close to sisters.

- Right before Briarlight’s Nieces and Nephews are made warriors Longtail dies of Greencough. Throughout the entirety of his sickness he kept his sense of humour, his mean streak, and his immense love for what he had made of his clan.

- At his vigil Grassspirit began whaling like a bird in new-leaf, he insists that the vigil is too sad, and that Longtail wouldn’t want everyone moping around, for Starclan’s sake, his life was good. Standing amongst them, Longtail’s spirit can feel every cat in Thunderclan standing around him, singing the song of a life well lived.

[alvie-pines]

can people with dyscalculia help? im 18, autistic, and trying to figure out if i have it. it would be really nice if some people who know they have it could read this and give their opinion on whether i should try to get evaluated.

i’ve always hated math and struggled with it, and yet i was in advanced classes in middle school..... which i HATED. then, in high school, i got mistakenly put in the intermediate class for kids who struggle with math, and saw...... little to no change in how challenging it was. i did get bored with how slowly we were introduced to concepts, but my ability to complete the homework in a timely manner never improved. and i tend to do math slower than my peers--i even requested a time extension on my ACT because i finished all the other sections with great scores every time, but could only get like halfway through the math section at best. the one time i remember finishing a test first in class, i was proud but surprised. but looking back i think that test had a lot of questions about the concepts we were being taught rather than arithmetic, which also surprised me because in my experience math tests are mostly solving problems, not answering questions about math concepts. there have also been times that i’ve finished my classwork before anyone else, but also looking back this usually happened because i was working while the teacher was talking instead of taking notes. (my thoughts are very very fast and unfortunately my teacher does not talk as fast as my thoughts, so in pretty much all my classes, i just end up working ahead while listening to the lecture so i can pay attention and not get distracted)

i understand the abstract concepts behind math just fine, and even like them, but i kind of struggle with it at the same time. i do things like addition slowly and multiple times to make sure i got it right, sometimes counting on my fingers. i cannot memorize my times tables, ive completely given up on that. i still count on my fingers at 18, which i didnt realize wasnt normal because im completely unobservant. i hate mental math and calculators are my saving grace. i dont trust myself to do mental math correctly. i struggle to hold numbers in my head, especially long strings like phone numbers or addresses, which is part of what makes mental math so hard for me (and thats why i use my fingers or write it down). i forget things like phone numbers instantly. im not very good at reading analog clocks, but that might be because we’re moving more towards digital clocks everywhere. i also heard that dyscalculia can be associated with difficulty telling right from left, and thats a really embarrassing thing ive always struggled with--i need to hold up my hands to remember (left hand makes an L) and if i cant do that i have to imagine writing something and hope im imagining the correct hand doing the writing, lol.

but despite all this-- i feel like maybe i dont have it. maybe im just looking for an excuse to explain why i suck so much at math. theres also the possibility that im just overly anxious about getting a wrong answer and thats why i do everything so slowly and count on my fingers and stuff--so i can be sure im not getting it wrong. i do understand how numbers correlate to amounts, and its not like im totally incapable of mental math. i can do it, i just struggle with it, especially if i have to hold a number in my head for any reason. like, while writing this post i went and did basic multiplication problems in my head (from a website) and got hung up on 7 x 6. and then i got it wrong. this is the part where i’d normally make excuses like “oh im tired, oh its the end of summer so i havent practiced,” but honestly, im pretty sure most people my age should be able to do simple multiplication like that no matter the time of year. so. i dunno. also, i was able to get the other problems correct, but im pretty sure i was taking longer to do them than an 18 year old should. and i was counting on my fingers again.

and like. i think i like math in theory. algebra looks logical and satisfying, and it IS, except when i have to actually divide, add, and subtract, then i can practically feel my brain beginning to overheat like an overworked computer.

moving things from one side to the other to isolate a variable? yes. good shit.

havint to do subtraction to get there? now its not so fun. i think this is the part that actually gives me a headache. i never really thought about which part of algebra was frustrating me, but now that i know dyscalculia is a thing, im starting to think about the arithmetic vs the abstract concept behind it.

anyways, if i have dyscalculia its probably more mild seeing as i can still do mental math and i can still do arithmetic, its just unreasonably hard for me for no discernable reason.

[mellometal]

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!

[thisisntapainting]

Living with Chronic Suicidal Thoughts

"If you don't want it, please, could you just spit it out : 'Cause I can't take much more of this messing around" -Spit, Slutever

WARNING: Ok, seriously, if you didn't read the title, this deals with suicidal thoughts and whatnot. This also talks about trauma, mental illness, and the related. Viewer discretion is, well, advised.

It's been a problem since I was in elementary school, and like a nasty birthmark in a place you don't want one to be, it just never goes away. It's made me go to therapists, hospitals, anywhere, desperate measures from school and parents alike. A demon that haunts the shoulder, and a stain you just can't get rid of on your plate.

Every day, the thought comes along, about if I ended my own life. Every single day, sometimes less than other days, sometimes more casually than in those crisis days I have. But it still comes around a lot, and it's, well, a problem, but a problem that I don't think would ever go away. I know what causes it most times, but I always end up saying I don't know why if somebody asks, because the cause would take more than one sentence to explain. But every day it comes, and every day I consider commiting self-unalive.

It's like a solution to every problem that comes up. Room is messy? Dad's mad at me for it? I could clean it up, or I could just hang myself here and save him the college bills. Same old, same old. But I also don't ever end up acting on this, or hurting myself, or at least, not anymore. I get dangerously close to those edges, but never enough to actually do anything. I scream into the interwebs voids of whoever could listen to me that day of wanting to die, but nothing ever results. That's probbaly why I haven't had any more intensive care for my suicidal thoughts -- they're just thoughts. Thoughts and ideas by themselves cannot kill. Maybe these thoughts are a security blanket, because no matter what happens, at least I have a way out -- death!

Or a security blanket away from my past. My traumatic experiences have left me more disabled than I already was with genetic disabilty. I don't usually post about my mental disorder diagnosis list, but since it's relevant -- Autistic people are much more likely to develop C-PTSD. As a quick fresher, for those who don't know, C-PTSD is Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and is traumatic from a series of never-ending events that make somebody feel trapped, or something like that. Again, it has disabled me more than anything else ever would be able to. I would probably be normal enough to not even run this site if it wasn't for the alienation, the pain, the everything that C-PTSD hands me and tells me to go fuck myself with. The worst part is knowing it isn't really my fault I have C-PTSD, and the people who caused it are either long dead, my family, or both. No apologies. Fuck.

But in the last few years, my chronic suicidality has been getting better, and mostly in the last year or so. I've adapted a new mindset to combat this general cloud of illness -- I go through with a positive nihilism. Nothing in life matters, but that isn't a bad thing. It's actually really cool, because since it doesn't matter, I can stop giving a fuck about what bothers me, and boom, it no longer bothers me anymore. Literally just stop caring. I have the image right next to this in my wallet for a reason, a constant reminder -- I (usually) am able to stop things from hurting me now. Literally just stopped caring.

In addition, I have a slight list of other things here, and if you identified to this article, I think you can also try these.

- If it's avaliable, when I feel an episode coming on, I go to the nearest water fountain, and just splash cold water on my face. It interupts the head. Learnt this in group DBT when I was still in group DBT.

- Above anything else, distract. Distract yourself from those thoughts until the distraction overtakes the thought and it goes away. Copes are up to you -- I just hop on ROBLOX or watch Vinesauce. Specifically Vinesauce.

- Unironically the "name five things you can see, four you can touch" ect. thing works in the short-term.

- Above all, this is a waiting game. You just have to make it through the bad times to get back to the epic awesome times. You can do this! Lobster believes in you.

This probably comes off as a public vent, a pity party. It is a vent. I am allowed to be open about these things sometimes, as a treat. It is ok to shout into my personal void of a site as well. Again, if you identify with these thoughts, there is help. There is better times. As a closing note, while I do not avocate for going to therapy anymore for personal reasons, that is also an option, and it works for some people. I don't have much else to say, but reader, know that I love you like I love the rest of this world. I love you for even taking the time to visit my site, even if it was just the index and nothing else interested you. Having a stage to act and write like this is a gift. I love you. ❤

[parentsnevertoldus]

PMDD AND AUTISM: SENSORY OVERLOAD BY LAURA MULLEN

From SeeHerThrive

October 01, 2018

I’m Laura, a 34 year old, neurodiverse mother of two beautiful neurodiverse girls and wife to a wonderful neurodiverse man. I have struggled with PMDD, Post-partum Depression and Psychosis, and Menstrual Psychosis in my life. I’m passionate about learning and advocating for others who are suffering menstrual related disorders and advocating for the autistic/neurodiverse population. I talk openly about my own experiences through out my life, including my suicide attempts due to my menstrual related disorders.

I have two passions in life, which both relate to myself and my kids: autism and menstrual mood disorders.

I’ve been part of the Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder scene longer than I have been part of the autism scene, but both felt like home immediately. We talk about finding our tribes, our homes, with people who immediately understand us without questioning what we are going through, without invalidating our thoughts and feelings. Imagine my surprise when upon finding my autism crowd that many struggled with PMDD or other menstrual/hormone related disorders too. See, in the neurotypical world, PMDD is little known and talked about. However, in my autism support group, it’s not uncommon to see it in discussions.

I’m not formally diagnosed autistic. I self-identify and after a few years of research (which started because of my daughter’s diagnosis) quickly became a special interest of my own when I started to relate so much myself.

Women and AFAB individuals often experience autism differently than male/AMAB counterparts. We are often discounted or ignored because we are more social, and we tend to mask our struggles.

Women as a whole are expected to mask their struggles in life, neurodiverse or not.

Classic theories of emotion posit that awareness of one's internal bodily states (interoception) is a key component of emotional experience (Jamil Zaki, 2012).There is talk in some autistic groups I participate in of PMDD or hormonal mood disorders being more prevalent in those that are autistic. This leads me to believe that this sensitivity to hormone fluctuation may be part of the interoceptive sense. When a person has a sensory disorder, we think most commonly of touch, auditory, taste, sight, and smells. Sometimes vestibular and proprioceptive sense is included.

What is rarely discussed in sensory disorders is interoception sensory issues/processing and just how it can affect a person and what it can actually mean for mental/emotional health when its processing is disordered. Yes, for a sensory avoidant person such as myself who shies away from bright light because it hurts or loud noisy areas because those too are painful and overwhelming, my interoception sense is also avoidant and extra sensitive to overwhelm.

But what is interoceptive sense and why in the world would there be a connection to PMDD?

For a long, medical definition of interoception you can read more here. For a simpler definition I am borrowing a passage from www.inspiredtreehouse.com:

Interoception refers to our perception of what is going on inside our bodies and is responsible for feelings of hunger, thirst, sickness, pain, having to go to the bathroom, tiredness, temperature, itch, and other internal sensations. What’s even more interesting about interoception is that it goes deeper than physical sensations because – as with all of our sensory systems – when our brains receive these internal signals, we interpret, attend to, and analyze them. So interoception is also associated with our sense of well-being, mood, and emotional regulation. (Heffron, 2017)

We know that the interoception sense is often part of a sensory processing disorder. We also know that under stress or overwhelm that our interoception is affected, often greatly. Think of our heart rate increasing during a panic attack or irritable bowel issues due to anxiety. And these also affect our emotions, maybe our heart rate is faster than normal, so we become anxious, creating a more rapid heart rate.

”Influential theories suggest emotional feeling states arise from physiological changes from within the body.” (Hugo D Critchley, 2017). Now, we know that PMDD has a physiological response system. The rise and fall of hormones within the body triggers a physical response from several systems in our body, not just ovaries and uterus, but deep within our gut, adrenergic systems, our cardiovascular system, and our brain.

Compare the response of a sudden surge of progesterone in the late luteal phase to that of an individual with sensory processing disorder being overwhelmed by a sudden shove into a noisy gymnasium, with bright lights, many bodies, smells and a cacophony of sounds. Said individual would likely go into either shutdown or meltdown mode, as they were unprepared for such an assault on their system and may even have difficulty regulating their emotions; in fact their temper may become frayed quickly, they may find themselves having a panic attacks, anxiety may overwhelm them, their body may start producing pain signals to the overloaded senses, they may even collapse under the weight of it all.

A person without the sensory issue may find this environment exhilarating. I would certainly be huddled in a corner until I felt that I could safely slip away unnoticed. Or, I would start to snap at those around me because of a desperate need to get away.

During the monthly cycle, my sensory system would be overwhelmed by the rise and fall of hormones and I felt completely out of control, emotionally.

Because I was out of control. My sensory processing could not keep up with both the physical and emotional toll of what my body was going through. I see so many sad stories of young girls starting menses and the emotional outbursts and meltdowns make absolute sense if you think of hormones as overwhelming a sensory system that just cannot handle it. Any homeostasis change in our environment is difficult to cope with, especially drastic hormone fluctuations during the menstrual cycle.

It’s not that there is anything abnormal about the menstrual cycle itself, but rather how our body processes the sensations and systems that cause a rise and fall outside of the comfort zone.

I believe that this can explain why women are affected by PMDD and how it all works. We found out in the last couple of years that there is a genetic link to PMDD. We also know that it is a sensitivity to hormone fluctuations, not the hormones themselves. Putting two and two together is what led me to this thought process, that it is part of the sensory systems and a processing disorder that causes a severe response, or meltdown, to our hormonal cycle. Obviously, not every woman who experiences PMDD or PME or other menstrual related disorders is autistic or has a sensory processing disorder; however, many are highly sensitive, both physically and emotionally.

Sources

Heffron, C. (2017, February 27). What is Interoception. Retrieved from The Inspired Treehouse: https://theinspiredtreehouse.com/what-is-interoception/

Hugo D Critchley, S. N. (2017, October). Interoception and emotion. Retrieved from Science Direct: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2352250X17300106

Jamil Zaki, J. I. (2012, 05 12). Overlapping activity in anterior insula during interoception and emotional experience. Retrieved from Science Direct: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1053811912005009

[crazedtmnt]

Misshapen

Turtles X Autistic F!Reader

Hello! So, this is something I’ve been working on for a while. Fun fact about me, but I’m actually autistic. I didn’t find out until I was in college, though, since my mom was terrified to find out the truth (she’s much better about it now). As such, this caused me a lot of trouble growing up. I was constantly missing signals and making people mad without realizing. And I had no way of knowing what was wrong with me.

So I wrote a little self-indulgent thing about that! It was kind of an experiment, so it came out more abstract than I was expecting. I hope that’s okay. I focused mostly on the hyper-fixations, since that caused me the most problems, but I tried to get more in there. It’s a little hard to describe everything. Hope you enjoy!

[y/n] = Your name

~~~~~~~

“No.”

We tuck our hearts behind logic and manners, but every now and again someone’s pokes out, showing the world their true feelings. At the sight of one, we smile and laugh. Its appearance indicates further understanding between us—a bond of trust. Some wear their hearts more readily, while others keep it under lock and key, even as their logic falls apart. But whether a heart is social or shy, one thing remains constant: the more we view each other’s hearts, the more we learn.

“No, no one understands what you’re saying.”

But sometimes a heart is misshapen. Not due to cruelty or malice, but due to life. Not every heart can be made the same. Everyone has cuts or lumps along their veins, but some are born with entirely new designs, foreign and strange to the average person. The sight of these hearts confuses and even angers others.

“I’m sorry. I was just—”

“You were just being annoying! Can’t you read the room?!”

Even if their appearance marks a display of love, trust, or wonder, the twisted form screams a meaning unheard by its owner. The misshapen heart will parade this misinformation happily, unaware of the contempt boiling beneath the surface. That is, until the earth cracks open and reveals what all other hearts could already see.

“I-I… I didn’t mean to…”

“Of course you didn’t. You never think of anyone but yourself. You’re always babbling on about whatever you’re into and never stop to consider others. Do you know how exhausting that is?”

“I’m sorry, I… I’m sorry…”

A misshapen heart can stare itself in the mirror all day long, but even if it realizes that its design is unusual, it cannot change what it already is. The bumps and cuts are familiar—comforting—and the heart itself works just fine. Whatever could be wrong with it? The misunderstanding it keeps exclaiming is just that: a misunderstanding. Its true feelings should be easily heard. It can hope that other hearts hear the truth behind the oddities, but if not…

“God! All you do is apologize! You never actually try to be better! Do you seriously think we enjoy listening to you talk about the same two things every single day? You never even let us get a word in! How would you feel if we ignored your interests to only talk about our own?”

“…”

“What? You won’t even look at us anymore? …Oh God, now you’re crying. You’re such a pain. Learn some social skills and maybe realize that you aren’t the center of the universe. Other people want to talk too.”

“…”

“Stop crying! You just… Ugh! Nevermind. Come on. Let’s leave her to feel sorry for herself.”

A misshapen heart can break just the same as any other.

~~~~~~~

[Y/n] could barely see her friends leaving through the torrent of tears cascading down her face. She couldn’t even stand straight. Under the weight of her shame, guilt, and confusion she was practically doubled over. And once the slam of a door pierced her ear, echoing its hatred through her very soul, she completely broke down.

Sobs wrenched through her body, her chest heaving as she barely managed to hold back full-blown wails. As crying overtook all other functions, [y/n] collapsed on the ground, her hands thrown out to prop her up. All she could do was watch as teardrops fell to the ground at a growing rate and feel a burning sorrow choke her lungs.

“What is wrong with me? What is wrong with me?!” she screamed into the void, knowing no one was listening—nor did anyone care to listen. After all, she was an annoying little child whose passions drove away the few people who could stand her. She should know exactly what’s wrong with her… right?

“What is…? What is…?” [y/n] hiccupped, her squinting eyes forcing out more tears so that maybe reality would slip away. If even the floor was blurred, she could imagine she was home in her bed. She could escape to a familiar place where routine was king.

Escape… Escape… Pretend the world worked in a way that made sense. Pretend that every sentence that fell from a stranger’s lips had an obvious tone—no one hid their feelings behind passive aggressive words that slipped her notice. Pretend that background noises didn’t drown out everything else until all that’s left is a sense of anxiety and the realization that she couldn’t breathe. Pretend that she could laugh at jokes thrown at her instead of wondering later if it was even a joke.

Pretend the world’s normal… Not her normal that was weird, boring, or disruptive. No matter how she bent it, it never matched everyone else’s that they fought tooth and nail for. It had to be the normal that suffocated her with expectations she could never hope to meet, since the starting line was nowhere in sight. Her normal was wrong.

…But in the end, it was all she knew.

“What did I… do wrong?”

“Nothing.”

[Y/n] gasped, feeling a warm hand sliding up and down her back. She was still doubled over, but another shadow combined with hers. How long had it been there?

The soothing voice spoke again. “You’re absolutely perfect. It’s not your fault.”

[Y/n] tightened her hands into fists. It was so comforting to hear that… Too comforting.

“No. I… I made them mad…” She wiped her eyes and tried to stand up—tried to escape the calming presence before she forgot her place. She was a broken human who deserved to be hurt. Obviously, she wasn’t working hard enough to be a better person. “I act like a child… and… and ignore… ignore everyone around me.”

The tears had slowed, but it was impossible to catch her breath. Hell, the lump in her throat made her more likely to choke than speak. So she needed to leave before her selfishness made her accept his comfort.

Her love. Her turtle hero. [Y/n] couldn’t let him indulge her any further.

But those strong hands were persistent. In one smooth motion, he had wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Once seated on the floor with him, all desire to flee left. [Y/n] merely gave in, though her gaze was fixated on the floor.

He hummed in somber amusement, the rumble of his chest almost tickling her. It was hard to believe this was the same [y/n] he had fallen in love with. She was so passionate about whatever caught her interest. It was his favorite thing to watch the sparkles in her eyes as she talked for hours over her obsessions. Now, she lay against him like a hollow doll, ready to obey whatever order her owner gave her.

Gently, he wiped her tear tracks with his thumb. “Love, I saw everything. You were just excited to talk to them. They could have stopped you and explained what was wrong, but they chose to get mad at you. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I… But I should have tried to… be better. Be nicer and more considerate. I’m such a terrible—”

“No,” he cut in firmly, his grip around her tightening. “Don’t you dare say anything bad about yourself. You’re wonderful. My angel and my love. If they don’t appreciate you, then they don’t deserve you.”

He used his finger to gently push up [y/n]’s chin, guiding her gaze towards his. For a few seconds, [y/n] tensed and closed her eyes. That was the hardest thing in the world: looking someone in the eye. She didn’t deserve his comfort, much less his love. How could she ever meet his eyes?

“[Y/n], look at me.”

His breath caressed her cheek while his hands rubbed her face softly. It was so warm… So familiar and safe. [Y/n] gave in and opened her eyes.

Her gaze was met with calm kindness. It didn’t matter how excited or anxious she got. He always looked at her like she was a princess. His princess. Despite the circumstances, his smile was beautiful, lighting a fire within her heart. Suddenly, [y/n] felt a weight lift from her chest. He was here and he still loved her. He had seen her at her worst and yet he never showed any hint of regret. Instead, he made allowances. It didn’t matter what he was doing—if [y/n] called him in a fit of anxiety, he was there in minutes. He even altered his routine when she was around to better match hers. The stubborn, no-nonsense leader changed his routine out of love for her… And here Leo was right now: smiling that handsome smile, whispering sweet words into her ear, and gently rubbing circles into her back. In spite of all her supposed flaws, he wasn’t going anywhere. On the contrary, he loved every minute he spent with her. She was a blessing and he would do anything to listen to her pour her heart out. In those moments, he could forget all the bad in the world and stare into his love’s eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the solemn expression of understanding. He got it. He also had issues with driving people away. However, that was because of his temper, not unrestrained passion. If anything, his issue was much worse because, while he always regretted it, he purposefully drove people away. [Y/n] was only doing it on accident. She meant no harm. And yet she still chose him, the hothead, to love. With all the words in the world, he couldn’t explain how much that meant to him. So screw those other people. If they couldn’t see how wonderful [y/n] was, then they didn’t deserve to know her. He would keep her all to himself anyway, if he could. She deserved the world, but if she couldn’t have that then she would get all the love he could give. As Raph pulled her closer, inhaling her sweet scent, a wave of relief fell over [y/n]. No matter what, she had her strong protector right beside her. He didn’t care if she rambled on about nonsense; having her care enough to stay by his side meant the world to him. To both of them.

It wasn’t hard to tell what he was thinking with that big grin. Every day, if he didn’t get to hear her lovely voice rant on about whatever, it was a failed day. He loved it, every minute of it. She had the most beautiful mind and could see things from angles others never even knew existed. To society, the world was a 2D image on a piece of paper—simple, clean, and always the same no matter the view point. But to her, the world was 3D and bursting with possibilities. Each day, she viewed it at a new angle, discovering a new story or truth. And each day, she came to him with a surplus of ideas bursting out of her very being. [Y/n] was his muse, his light, and most importantly the love of his life. She needed moderation sometimes, but so did he. That didn’t make her a bad person. [Y/n] was overflowing with passion and potential, if only the right people encouraged her. So that’s exactly what Donnie would do. He gently kissed her forehead, reminding her that her “strange” mind was his favorite thing.

Love. Just endless love. It was all she could see on his face—that warm smile and those bright eyes holding all the love in the world. It was like he was radiating sunshine. Suddenly, the weight on her heart seemed to dissolve. He looked at [y/n] like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. A goddess that owned his heart and all he could give her. If there was ever a moment when he got annoyed at her rambling, he couldn’t remember it. He could only remember all the late nights of them snuggled together, enthusiastically whispering to each other about everything under the sun until Splinter showed up to shush them. Mikey leaned his forehead against hers, brushing some hair behind her ears. Watching [y/n] get excited and analyze her newest obsession was always the highlight of his day. He got to see her gorgeous smile and how her eyes sparkled with delight. In those moments, nothing stood in her way. She shined like a star and graced him, a mutant turtle, with her light. What more could he want?

It was almost too much. Tears filled [y/n]’s eyes again, but for a completely different reason than before. Her heart clenched with love… and the hope that maybe she wasn’t a broken person after all. If her turtle could look at her in such a way, without a hint of regret, then…

“I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered in her ear. Slowly, his lips brushed passed her cheek, settling on her lips. It was a short kiss, but one filled with promises she knew he’d keep. “…I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Then maybe her misshapen heart had found its match.

[woolieshubris]

5, 8, 12, 15, 19, 20, 22, 27, 29, 33, 34, 42, 49 >:)

Feel free to pick any 5 of these you wanna answer if there are too many!!! I’m just 👁👁 Looking ☺️

5) What do you wish more ppl knew abt autism? I wish people knew about what it ACTUALLY means, because I feel like there are a lot of misconceptions. Autistic characters on TV often don't help either cuz they dont usually explain what it actually is, but show a few vague traits. 8) If you have any, what are your special interests? Learning new things? Can that be one? I like to spend hours learning weird softwares and how to do extremely unuseful skills, such as hacking a 3ds, or learning live2d 12) Do you headcanon any characters as autistic? If you want, tell us why you headcanon them autistic. WAYYY TOO MANY. But my weirdest hc is link from botw! I just think hes neat + I like to play where he speaks the least possible and runs from everything. One of my favorite things in games is to see how far i can stretch mysterious silent protag, which I feel tends to lend itself to autistic characterization. 15) Have you ever recieved any accommodations for your autism in either school or work? Yes, I recently got my 504 done along with my Dx :) some of my accommodations mean I skip school assemblies and that teachers generally need to give me written instructions, because verbal ones I have a hard time remembering and keeping up with. 19) What kinds of things are sensory hell for you? School Assemblies, crowds when I am with a group (usually people I'm supposed to be watching) and many tourist attractions !! I get stressed out when strangers try to talk to me, so some clothes stores or any store where the attendees get money off commission is totally off limits to me basically. 20) What kinds of things are good sensory wise? I'm choosing to interpret this as "sensory heaven"? Dry rice/beans are really comforting to stick my hand in, typing on a computer is fun, and petting my birds. Also listening to music I know super well is fun! Listening to familiar music is one of my favorite active defenses against meltdowns. I often listen to music in one ear almost all of the time whenever I'm outside of my room. 22) Would you say you are proud to be autistic? I am much more open about it online than I am in my personal life, and that's mostly due to me masking very well. Most of the time, people cannot even tell when I'm distressed. I wouldn't say I'm proud or really ashamed. I feel more like I just am lol. 27) Do you have any vocal stims or echolalia? I normally don't due to masking, however cuz of covid times, I picked up the stim of any time I'm asked a question, I look at my bird n ask him what he thinks of it. I think my parents find it super annoying lol. 29) Are your friends/family accepting of your autism? I think so? But also people in my family and also some of my friends just literally don't understand it at all lol. They accept it because they have to, but I don't think they understand anything about autism other than misconceptions they've read and some people they've met. 33) Foods you are sensitive to (maybe because of bad texture for instance)? Fish,, sadly. I want to like fish really bad, but I cannot :( I don't know what it is. I also don't like soups. Only having liquids for a meal messes w/ my gut. 34) Do you enjoy hugs? Or are they sensory hell? No lol, I kind of hate hugs. I think it's mostly because I was forced to do them my entire life, than the sensory part. If I was given a choice to hug as a kid, rather than it being forced on me (quite literally sometimes) then I think I'd like it a lot more. 42) Tell us something about your special interest. I recently got a DS emulator working on my 3ds so I can play any DS game I want on it!! :) 49) What's something you find hard to do because of autism? My brain has a hard time differentiating between whining and sticking up for myself? Like I don't know what is stupid and what isn't? So I basically cannot stand up for myself or speak out about things that are bothering me. Same thing with differentiating between a normal request and something selfish. I just cannot do it. It's really difficult to explain to NT's tho, and they often r like

"noooo you cannot ask for too much from me :)))" which like, Lol I don't think you realize what kind of floodgates you are opening. Thank you for the questions <3

[thelightfluxtastic]

30DayTheri 20: Neurodivergence

I see my therianthropy as caused by/a form of neurodivergence, and I’m going to explain why. This is something I have written about before on the old Alt+H gorums, but as I cannot find that post, I will try to rewrite my case, hopefully improving it, rather than copy-paste. Though I will probably cross-post this to the new forums once it’s done. Anyway: Lets start by listing some of the traits that overlap between kin experiences and neurodivergence. Note I use the umbrella term deliberately. While some examples are typically associated with autism, it’s not exclusive (e.g. sensory issues are also present in ADHD, cerebral palsy, and whatever giftedness is). Will link sources whenever I can.

Not making eye contact (therian logic: threat display in many species)

“Improper” facial expressions (grinning also a threat in many animals)

Sensory processing/sensitivity (sensory shifts usually seen as differing attention or sensitivity to stimuli, rather than physically having inhuman senses)

Differences in proprioception and body map (phantom shifts)

Differences in mental state and cognition (mental shifts)

Unusual walking gaits and postures, sitting positions

Feelings of alienation or disconnection from others (autistic and adhd people seeing themselves as “alien”)

Identification with animals more than humans 

This tumblr post covers a lot of these overlaps using hypothetical examples of a person with autism and a person with therianthropy. They seem to do similar things, but for different reasons. For example, “Jeremy likes to sit in strange positions. He does this because it puts pressure on certain parts of his body in ways that feel good and sitting this way helps him stay calm and focused. Jeremy is autistic.George likes to sit in strange positions. He does this because it feels more natural to him to act as though he has four legs and sitting this way reduces the dysphoria he usually experiences when sitting normally. George is a therian.”

That’s all well and good but... can people always tell why they are doing something? The introspection illusion would indicate this is not as reliable as we might hope. I tend to slam my hands down on the nearest surface when I’m excited. Related to handflapping or canine playbows and excited tippy-tapping? Or consider my lifelong chewing behavior- sensory stimming, or dog behavior? And don’t dogs chew for sensory stimulation too?

So is that it? All therians and otherkin are “just [diagnosis]” and mistaking it for something else? Well, no, it’s not that simple. Informal polls have indicated a higher prevalence of neurodivergent diagnoses in otherkin, but it’s not a one-to-one relationship. This scientific research paper found a higher prevalence among therians of self-reporting a diagnosis, and higher scores on the Autism Spectrum Quotient. However, the ASQ is not diagnostic, it merely indicates trends and shared traits that warrant further inspection. The same paper also found Therians were no different from controls on traits like personal growth, purpose and self-acceptance, and that the therian identity may have been protective against some negative effects, like anhedonia.

It can’t be ignored that many therians/otherkin do not have a diagnosis of a neurodivergent condition, even having sought one out (i.e. thus circumventing the issue of just not being able to see a professional). A lot of therians and otherkin consider the possibility of mental illness when first questioning. I literally asked my therapist (whom I was out to about my therianthropy) whether I could have been on the autism specturm, and after going over it with me in detail, she concluded I was at most subclinical, and didn’t meet diagnostic criteria, missing an entire subsection of traits. I know other therians who have had the same experiences- finding that they check the boxes on certain traits, but just don’t-quite’-fit clinical criteria.

Now, as a counselor, I know better than most exactly how much diagnoses are affected by culture, norms, and are ultimately somewhat arbitrary and nebulous. But it should also not ignored that mental illness, regardless of diagnosis, is always defined by causing distress or impairing function- something that doesn’t apply to many cases of nonhuman identity. 

This is why I am specific in saying I believe therianthropy is a form of neurodivergence, rather than a mental illness. I see it as emerging from functions and activity of the brain, of being one of many diverse ways a brain can be wired. Because of this, it overlaps in traits with other forms of neurodivergence (like autism, ADHD and others). It’s another circle on the big Venn diagram. So questioning whether a certain behavior like chewing is an “autism” thing or a “therianthropy” thing is a little bit like asking whether emotional dysregulation is an autism, adhd, bpd, etc. thing. It belongs to all of them and isn’t the defining factor of any. Because modern diagnostic labels are based on clusters of symptoms, these overlaps can result in dual diagnoses, though not always (e.g. if a persons symptoms are mostly in the overlap of autism and adhd, they might be diagnosed with both, whereas another person’s experiences may be much more one than the other, and they only get/need one label). So a person can be a therian and have no other label, be a different form of neurodivergent and not a therian, or both a therian and have another neurodivergent label. And all three of these people would share certain but not all traits and experiences.

[fionacle]

down to 803

I couldn’t tell you the first time it happened, most things before high school are a blur, but I often hear others called special. The meaning of this is not what special is supposed to mean. Special things are supposed to be important and unique, they matter a lot, it’s a very high compliment if you say it genuinely. But here it’s condescending. Like this is the core of the person being spoken about, and that core is a taboo. Like it’s pity for an illness, or warning of danger. They say the word as though they’re describing a creature, some animal of lesser mind.

“I’m proud of you for being friends with him.” “Why?” “Oh, you know, he’s special.”

To speak with one of ‘them’ is seen as a great act rather than basic human decency toward a human.

I love being praised. More than anything else in the world. I need to know I matter, to feel skilled and important, the good kind of special. But when I’m praised for something like this I feel dirty. I can’t help but try to be the hero when I see someone’s upset, even when it’s unneeded or undeserved, but not here. If I accept this praise it means I agree that I had to do something significant and difficult. It means that my friend is just a challenge that I beat. So, not only would I be lying, I’d also be insulting my friend, even if he wouldn’t be in earshot.

I want nothing more in life than to be special. The good kind.

I want to finish writing a book and become famous for it. I want adoring fans, and to make a difference in their lives. I want to be talked about as someone cool and worthy of awe and respect, maybe even envy. I want to know that my friends consider me significant and wonderful. I want everyone I meet to be so earnest about liking me that it forces out any thought telling me I’m not worth their time. I want to carry around the good special for everyone.

The word isn’t really that important to me, I don’t hold any affection for it. But I’m upset that it dehumanizes others, and mostly I’m upset that it dehumanizes me.

I’m not clinically diagnosed with autism. I’m clinically diagnosed with ADHD, and that’s it. But I am sure I do not exclusively have ADHD.

When I go into testing rooms, I’ve been to quite a few since childhood, they present games to test my brain. This is an awful way for me to show my symptoms. I do the best I can because it’s fun and I want to show off. I tend not to have “off” days when I visit them, especially because I’m rarely around triggers. They don’t see me cry because the lunch man took my apple juice cap. They don’t see me flail around because I hear someone chewing gum. They don’t hear my autistic friends explain to me how my experiences match theirs to an alarming degree. I need them to see my tears in action. I need to take my memories out of my brain and show them. They need to know everything I’ve done and they need to put a word to it and let me tell people.

Then, maybe, they won’t tell me to stop. To stop being too weird. Stop being too emotional. Stop being afraid of things no one else cares about. Stop “misidentifying” emotions. Stop all of it. To just be normal. Because no matter how much they want it to be true it’s not. It’s not. It never will be. I cannot be. I’m not normal.

There’s something both cathartic and terrifying in saying that.

I’m not normal.

“Stop doing that or they’ll think you’re special.”

I am. I am special. You’ve known me your whole life. People I’ve known for a year can see it. Why can’t you? Why can’t you see that a fundamental part of me is that my brain is not normal. Why can’t you stop making that face when I bring this stuff up. Don’t tell me I’m copying my friends. Don’t tell me my friends are weak. They are not weak. I am not weak when I act like them. When I am true to myself I am strong. Don’t tell me that strength isn’t the real me. You need to re-learn who I am before you get to tell me who that is.

I am not some normal girl, what makes me different is a bigger part of me than my loved ones would like to admit. I think they ought to know me as “bad” special, as much as I hate the word, because then at least they’d know me.

someone please help me shorten my college essay oh my god

it needs to be 650 words, max, but it’s 897 right now, and that’s after editing.

i don’t want to take anything out, but I have to.

a teacher told me to take out every “I’m not normal” but i will absolutely fucking not

Pasting it below the cut, CW for ableism (my topic is how people will refer to people with autism and stuff as “special”)

Also if I wrote anything offensive lmk because the only people I’ve shown it to are neurotypical adults

At some point, almost every child is told that they are special. It’s a great feeling. Human nature is to strive for the top, and children especially enjoy having their inflated self-importance validated. But I quickly learned the downside to that word.

I couldn’t tell you the first time it happened, most things before high school are a blur, but I’ve often heard others called special. The meaning of this is nothing like the way special is supposed to mean. Special things are supposed to be important and unique, they matter a lot for one reason or another, it’s a very high compliment if you say it genuinely. But here it’s condescending. Like this is the core of the person being spoken about, and that core is a taboo. Like it’s pity for an illness, or warning of danger. They say the word as though they’re describing a creature, some animal of lesser mind. I still hear this often.

To speak with one of ‘them’ is seen as a great act rather than basic human decency toward a human.

“I’m proud of you for being friends with him.” “Why?” “Oh, you know, he’s special.”

I love being praised. More than anything else in the world. I need to know I matter. I need to feel skilled and important, the good kind of special. But when I’m praised for something like this I feel dirty. I can’t help but try to be the white knight when a friend is upset, I love being a hero even when it’s unneeded or undeserved, but not here. If I accept this praise it means I agree that I had to do something significant and difficult. It means that my friend is just a challenge that I beat. So, not only would I be lying, I’d also be insulting my friend, even if he wouldn’t be in earshot.

I want nothing more in life than to be special. The good kind.

I want to finish writing a good book and become famous for it. I want adoring fans, and to make a difference in their lives. I want to be talked about by people as someone cool and worthy of awe and respect, maybe even envy. I want to know that my friends consider me significant and wonderful. I want everyone I meet to be so earnest about their care for me that it forces out any thought that tells me I’m not worth their time. I want to carry around the good special for everyone.

But honestly, the word isn’t really that important to me. I don’t hold any affection for it. I’m upset that it dehumanizes others, but mostly I’m upset that it dehumanizes me.

I’m not clinically diagnosed with autism. I’m clinically diagnosed with ADHD, and that’s it. But I am sure I do not exclusively have ADHD.

When I go into testing rooms, I’ve been to quite a few since childhood, they present games to test my brain functions. This is an awful way for me to show my symptoms. I do the best I can on the tests because they’re fun and I want to show off. I tend not to have “off” days when I visit them, especially because I’m rarely around triggers. They don’t see me cry because the lunch man took my apple juice cap. They don’t see me flail around because I hear someone chewing gum. They don’t hear my autistic friends explain to me how my experiences match theirs to an alarming degree. I’m horribly emotional and sensitive and find it incredibly hard to not hate every kid outside my friend group. I need them to see my tears in action. I need them to see. I need to take my memories out of my brain and show them. They need to know everything I’ve done and they need to put a word to it and let me tell people.

Then, maybe, they won’t tell me to stop. To stop being too weird. To stop being too emotional. To stop being afraid of things no one else cares about. To stop “misidentifying” emotions. To stop all of it. To just be normal. Because no matter how much they want it to be true it’s not. It’s not. It never will be. I cannot be. I’m not normal.

There’s something both cathartic and terrifying in saying that.

I’m not normal.

“Stop doing that or they’ll think you’re special.”

I am. I am special. You’ve known me your whole life. People I’ve known for a year can see it. Why can’t you? Why can’t you see that a fundamental part of me is that my brain is not normal. Why can’t you stop making that face when I bring this stuff up. Don’t tell me I’m copying my friends. Don’t tell me my friends are weak. They are not weak. I am not weak when I act like them. When I am true to myself I am strong. Don’t tell me that strength isn’t the real me. You need to re-learn who I am before you get to tell me who that is.

I am not some normal girl, what makes me different is a bigger part of me than my loved ones would like to admit. I think they ought to know me as “bad” special, as much as I hate the word.

[arcticdementor]

There are three kinds of dissidents: (a) anons, (b) pundits who still care what people think, and (c) outsiders who DGAF. All these groups are great; real greatness can be achieved in any of them; and good friends I have in each. But each has its problems.

…

The problem with (b) is that you are always policing yourself. Not only do your readers never really know what you really believe—you never really know yourself. In practice, it is much easier to police your own thoughts than your own words. When choosing between two ideas, the temptation to prefer the safer one is almost irresistible. This is a source of cognitive distortion which the anons and outsiders do not experience. (Though anons do suffer something of the opposite, a reflex to provoke.)

As a pundit, you sense this stress in every bone of your body; you can never show it to your readers. This creates a deep dishonesty in the parasocial relationship between writer and reader—like a marriage that can never escape some foolish first-date fib. The falsity, like the blue in blue cheese, flows through and flavors every particle of your content. Neither you nor your readers can ever be sure whether you are speaking the truth, lying to them, or lying to yourself—but you are constantly doing all three. You may still be very entertaining—enlightening, even. All your work is ephemeral, and once you die only your relatives will remember you. And it’s not even your fault.

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From my perspective, both the anonymous and official dissidents exhibit a kind of unserious frivolity, but a very different kind. The frivolity of the anon is imaginative, surreal and playful at best, merely puerile at worst. The frivolity of the pundit has no upside; in every paragraph he is breaking Koestler’s rule, and he knows it; the best he can do is to shut up selectively about the things he cannot write about.

And his mens rea, too, is awful. He is selling hope. He is selling answers. Pity the man whose life has brought him to the position of selling answers in which he does not believe, or which he is forced to believe, or which he must force himself to believe. However sophisticated and erudite he may be, he is just a high-end grifter. His little magazine is a Macedonian troll-farm with a PhD. He is lucky if his eloquent essays about the common good don’t appear above a popup bar peddling penis pills—and in fact, I know more than one brilliant scholar in precisely this bathetic position. The frame defines the picture; the context sets the price of the text. Sad!

Worst still must be the reality that bad punditry is worse than useless—since useless strategies for escaping from a real problem are traps. When you lead your readers toward an attractive but ineffective solution, you lead them away from the opposite.

You got into this business to change the world for the better. You cannot avoid the realization that you are changing it for the worse—because your objective function is that of Chaim Rumkowski, the Lodz Ghetto’s “King of the Jews.”

You exist to convince your own followers that they neither can nor should do anything effective. The easiest way to do this is to convince them that ineffective strategies are effective. And this, as we’ll see, is exactly what you cannot avoid doing, dear pundit.

Moreover, from our present position of profound unreality, where the official narrative shared and studied by all normal intelligent people and all prestigious institutions can only be described as a state of venomous delirium, the opportunities to play Judas goat are almost unlimited. Cows, remember: there does not have to be only one Judas goat.

…

A particular favorite of the pundit is the error that AI philosophers call the “first-step fallacy.” It turns out that the first monkey to climb to the top of a tree was taking the first step toward landing on the moon:

First-step thinking has the idea of a successful last step built in. Limited early success, however, is not a valid basis for predicting the ultimate success of one’s project. Climbing a hill should not give one any assurance that if he keeps going he will reach the sky.

When a vendor sells you the moon and ships you a rope-ladder, you’ve been defrauded. Time for that one-star review.

…

Today we’ll chart the edges of the legitimate possible by looking at three recent pundit essays which have done a fine job of exploring those edges, and maybe even expanding them: Richard Hanania’s “Why is Everything Liberal?”, Scott Alexander’s “The New Sultan”, and Tanner Greer’s “The Problem of the New Right.”

…

After reading Hanania’s essay, a fourth pundit (who is out as a radical conservative) asked me: why does the right always lose? “Narcissistic delusions,” I replied.

Which was far from what he expected to hear, or what most readers will take from the essay. All three of these essays are good and true; but their inability to go far enough leaves them pointing their audience in precisely the wrong direction.

Most readers will emerge feeling that conservatives need more and better narcissistic delusions. Indeed, both pundit and politician are right there with just such a product. This meretricious frivolity, posing as seriousness, is too egregious to leave unmocked; yet the right reason to mock it is to challenge it to assume its final, truly-serious form.

Richard Hanania and the loser right

Hanania’s true point—backed up with a ream of unnecessary, PhD-worthy evidence—is that the libs always win because they just care more:

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Since the rebirth of conservatism after the revolutionary monoculture of World War II, all conservative punditry has consisted of attempts to create more excitement around policies and values which effectively resist the power of the prestigious institutions—giving “normal people” as much to care about as their fanatical, aristocratic enemies.

Sensibly, this tends to involve raising “issues” which actually seem to affect their lives, but which also run counter to aristocratic power. Over decades, the substance of these issues changes and even reverses; the opposite stance becomes the useful stance; and “conservative values” have no choice but to change to reflect this. (If this seems like a liberal way to rag on conservatives—the cons learned it from the libs.)

…

“New Right” is not Greer’s term, but as a label I can barely imagine a worse self-own. It promises something ephemeral and irrelevant. So far as I can tell, this same cursed label has been used in every generation of conservatism to mean something different. When it inevitably fails and dies, people forget about it, and the next generation, stuck in the eternal present of a Korsakoff-syndrome movement, can reinvent it.

Who reads the conservative pundits of the ‘80s? Even those who remember them have to throw them under the bus. Every generation of National Review twinks, solemnly intoning what they conceive to be the immortal philosophy of our hallowed founders, is horrified by its predecessor, and horrifies its successor—a truly bathetic spectacle. And of course, each such generation would utterly horrify the actual founders.

…

Greer then goes deep into David Hackett Fischer territory to explain the obvious, yet important, fact that this “New Right” consists of upper-class intellectuals (inherently the heirs of the Puritans, since America’s upper-class tradition is the Puritan tradition) trying to lead middle-class yokels (the heirs of the Scotch-Irish crackers, and (though Greer does not mention this) Irish, Slavs, and other post-Albionic “white ethnic” trash, today even including many Hispanics. He even gives us a clever historical bon mot:

Pity the Whig who wishes to lead the Jackson masses!

Uh, yeah, dude, that would be called “Abraham Lincoln.”

But the point stands. Not just the “New Right” with its new statist ideology, but the whole postwar American Right, is a weird army with a general staff of philosophers and a fighting infantry of ignorant yokels. How can this stay together? How can the philosophers bring forth a mythology that creates passionate intensity in the yokels?

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There is wisdom in this madness, of course—the problem is caused by aristocrats whose minds are wholly given over to narcissistic delusions. Doesn’t it take fire to fight fire? Doesn’t it take passionate intensity? Isn’t passionate intensity generated only by myths, dreams, poems and religions, not autistic formulas for tax policy? So the answer is clear: we need more and better narcissistic delusions. Ie, shams.

After all, any “founding mythology” is a narcissistic delusion. The flintlock farmers and mechanic mobs of the 1770s, and the Plymouth Puritans of the 1620s, have one thing in common: none of these people even remotely resembles the megachurch grill-and-minivan conservative of the 2020s. None of them even remotely resembles you.

They did live in the same places, and speak sort of the same language. Otherwise you probably have more in common with the average Indonesian housewife—at least she watches the same superhero movies.

To Narcissus, everything is a mirror; in everything and everyone, he sees himself. No field is riper for narcissism than history, since the dead past cannot even laugh at the present’s appropriations of a human reality it could not even start to comprehend.

And fighting fire with fire is one thing, but fighting the shark in the water is another. For the aristocrat, transcending reality is a core competence. The essence of leftism—always and everywhere an aristocratic trope, however vast its ignorant serf-armies—is James Spader in Pretty in Pink: “If I cared about money, would I treat my father’s house this way?” Mere peasants can never develop this kind of wild energy: that’s the point.

Yet Hanania remains right about the amount of energy that a rational, Kantian agenda for productive collective action motivated by collective self-interest, or even collective self-defense, can generate. The grill-American suburbicon is like Maistre’s Frenchman under the late Jacobins: he has defined deviancy down to rock-bottom. “He feels that he is well-governed, so long as he himself is not being killed.”

O, what to do? When you are solving an engineering problem and see the answer at last, it hits you like a thunderbolt. The conservatives, the normal people, the grill-Americans, must accept their own low energy. They must cease their futile reaching for passionate intensity, whether achieved through Kantian collective realism or Jaffaite founding mythology. They must fight the shark on land.

Conservatives don’t care—at least not enough. Yet they want to matter. Yet they live in a political system where mattering is a function of caring—not just voting. Therefore, there are two potential solutions: (a) make them care more; (b) make systems that let them matter more, without caring more.

Conservatives have low energy. They want high impact—at this point, they need high impact. After all, once you yourself are being killed, it’s kind of too late. Any engineer would tell you that there are two paths to high impact: more energy, or more efficiency.

Conservatives vote but don’t care. If we don’t have a viable way to make conservatives care more—meaning orders of magnitude more—effective strategies and structures must generate power by voting, not caring. They must maximize power per vote.

…

Interference means voters who are on the same team are working against each other. Impedance means voters resist delegating their complete consent to the team.

Interference is like a bunch of ants pulling the breadcrumb in different directions. To eliminate interference, point all your votes at one structurally cohesive entity which never works against itself.

Impedance is like getting married for a limited trial period, so long as your wife stays hot and keeps liking the stuff you like. As Burke pointed out in his famous speech to the electors of Bristol, the fundamental nature of electoral consent is unconditional:

To deliver an opinion, is the right of all men; that of Constituents is a weighty and respectable opinion, which a Representative ought always to rejoice to hear; and which he ought always most seriously to consider.

But authoritative Instructions; Mandates issued, which the Member is bound blindly and implicitly to obey, to vote, and to argue for, though contrary to the clearest conviction of his judgement and conscience; these are things utterly unknown to the laws of this land, and which arise from a fundamental Mistake of the whole order and tenor of our Constitution.

The cause of electoral impedance in the modern world is the conventional concept of “agendas” or “platforms” or “issues.” When you vote not for a cohesive entity, but for a list of instructions you are giving to that entity, you are not voting your full power. You are voting for Burke’s opponent, who felt “his Will ought to be subservient to yours.” In effect, you are voting for yourself. Narcissism once again rears its ugly head.

When you vote an agenda, you are granting limited consent to your representative. You say: I vote for you, for a limited time, so long as you stay fit and cook tasty dinners. I am actually not voting for you! I am voting for “reforms for conservatives” (Hanania). I am voting for “a broad set of shared attitudes and policy prescriptions” (Greer). Dear, I am not marrying you. I am marrying hot sex, regular cleaning and delicious meals—till ten extra pounds, or maybe at most fifteen, do us part.

You implicitly withhold your consent for anything not on your jejune list of bullet points. Then, you wonder why your representatives have no power and are constantly mocked, disobeyed, tricked and destroyed by people who are legally their employees. This is not political sex. This is political masturbation. You voted for yourself. And instead of a baby, all you got was a wad of tissues. Nice way to “drain the swamp.”

Your vote does not work because you are not voting, delegating, or granting consent. You are like an archer with one arrow who, afraid of losing it, refuses to let go of it. Without releasing his dart, all he can do is run up to the enemy and try to stab.

So if conservatives want to maximize the impact of their votes, all they have to do is the opposite of what they’re doing. Instead of voting for the okonomi a-la-carte stupid little political menus of hundreds of unconnected candidates and their staffs, they can all vote for the omakase prix-fixe chef’s-choice of a single cohesive governing entity.

Such a power, elected, has the voters’ mandate not just to “govern,” but to rule. When no other private or public force enjoys any such consent, no other force can resist. We are certainly well beyond “rule of law” at this point! On the inaugural podium, the new President announces a state of emergency. He declares himself the Living Constitution. In six months no one will even remember “the swamp.”

Wow! What a simple, clear idea! The engineer, when he comes across so compelling and obvious a design, knows there’s a catch: he won’t get the patent. Someone else must have invented it before. People may be stupid—but they’re not that stupid.

Indeed we have just reasoned our way to reinventing the oldest, most common, and most successful form of government: monarchy. And we are setting it against the second most common form, the institutional rule of power-obsessed elites: oligarchy. And to install our monarchy, we are using the collective action of a large number of people who each perform one small act: democracy.

The alliance of monarchy and democracy (king and people) against oligarchy (church and/or nobles) is the oldest political strategy in the book. The suburban conservative, who just wants to grill, either has no idea this ancient and trivial solution exists, or regards it as the worst thing in the world—even worse, possibly, than his sixth-grader’s mandatory sex change.

And why? Ask your friendly local Judas goat, the pundit. Even the “new right” pundit—who only differs in his policies and issues. Which are, true, slightly less useless. As the top of the tree is slightly closer to the moon.

The 20th century even came up with a handy pejorative for a newborn monarchy. We call it fascism. No word on whether Cromwell, Caesar, or Charlemagne, let alone Louis XIV, Frederick II and Elizabeth I, were fascists.

But, to borrow Scott Alexander’s charming term, also not his own invention, they were certainly strongmen. TLDR: if you want to be strong, elect one strongman. If you prefer to be weak, elect a whole bunch of weakmen. Do you prefer to be weak? “If the rule you followed brought you to this place—of what use was the rule?”

The pundit reassures you that you don’t need a strongman to be strong—you’ll do fine with weakmen—so long as those weakmen have the right “shared attitudes and policy prescriptions.” By the way, here are some attitudes I’m happy to share with you. Click now to accept cookies. Did I mention that I have policy prescriptions, too? Skip ad in 5 seconds. Congratulations, you’ve been automatically subscribed! Check the box to opt out of most emails—void where prohibited by law—terms and conditions may apply…

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An odd sort of pundit, who remains only nominally anonymous but has always very much GAF, Scott Alexander does not have Hanania’s cagey diplomatic noncommittal. As a “rationalist,” he is deeply committed to his own class status, and to oligarchy itself—which, like most, he misidentifies as “democracy.”

While the whole raison d’etre of the rationalist is the irrationality of our oligarchy, as displayed in genius moves like refusing to cancel regularly-scheduled airline flights to stop a Holocaust-tier pandemic, the rationalist’s dream is a rational oligarchy—using Bayes’ rule, which given infinite computing power will become infinitely intelligent—in Carlyle’s immortal phrase, “a government carried out by steam.”

Obviously, this is not just logical—it immunizes the rationalists from the scurrilous charge of “fascism,” or worse. And they were right about stopping the flights. So was my 9-year-old. Sadly, in a world of universal delusional delirium, rationality can get quite pleased with itself by clearing quite a low bar.

My view is that no government can be or ever has been carried out by steam—only by human beings—a species the same today as in the Old Kingdom of Egypt, if possibly a little dumber on average—and this will remain the case until some computational or genetic singularity occurs. For neither of which events will I hold my breath. This is why I find it easy to picture 21st-century America under the phronetic monarchy of an experienced and capable President-CEO, and almost hilariously impossible to picture it under a Bayesian bureaucracy of polyamorous smart-contracts.

Alexander disagrees. Here is his analysis—the same text that Hanania quotes. Let’s go through it thought by thought, and see if we can’t turn it into some delicious carnitas.

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Let’s get back to those “elites.” Alexander conflates three quite orthogonal concepts in his use of the word “elite”: biology, institutions, and culture.

Elite biology is high IQ, which is genetic. Elite institutions are any centers of organized collective power—Harvard, the Komsomol, the Mafia, etc. Elite culture is whatever ideas flourish within elite institutions.

Destroying biology is genocide—specifically, aristocide. Destroying institutions is… paperwork. Who hasn’t worked for a company that went out of business? Same deal. And if the culture is the consequence of the institutions, different institutions (with the same human biology) will inevitably nurture different ideas.

The SS was anything but a low-IQ institution, yet it propagated a very different culture than Harvard. 21st-century Germany is anything but a low-IQ country, but the ideas of Kurt Eggers do not flourish in it. It seems that high-IQ institutions can be destroyed—and the new “elite culture” will be the culture of the institutions that replace them.

So the only target is the institutions. There is nothing “nasty” about closing an office. In the worst possible scenario, the police need to clear the building, lock the doors, and impound the servers. Such tasks are well within their core competence, and can be performed with calm professionalism. They will probably not even need their zip-ties.

…

For democracy to be effective in such a situation, it must know its own limitations. It can seize the reins—but only to hand them to some effective power. This power must have one of three forms: an existing oligarchy, a new monarchy, or a foreign power.

Also, there are three classes in an advanced society, not just two: nobles, commoners, and clients. Since clients support their patrons by definition, once nobles plus clients outnumber commoners, the commoners have permanently lost the numbers game. This is why importing client voters is a recipe for either civil war or eternal tyranny—if not both.

…

Yes. This is what happened in denazification, except with monarchy and oligarchy reversed. For example, all German media firms today are descendants of institutions created, or at least certified, by AMGOT. Nothing “organic” about it.

The essential problem with Alexander’s picture of this process is that, since like most smart people today he inhabits Cicero’s great quote about history and children, he simply cannot imagine replacing one kind of elite institution with another. Nor can he imagine high-IQ elites—human beings as smart as him—which are as loyal to a new sane monarchy as today’s elites are loyal, slavishly loyal, to our old insane oligarchy. Does he think that Elizabeth’s London had no elites? Caesar’s Rome?

If Alexander was analyzing the Soviet Union in the same way, he would conclude that elites are inherently devoted to building socialism for the workers and peasants. Since the present world he lives in is all of history for him, he cannot see the general theory which predicts this special case: elites like to get ahead. To genuinely change the world, change what it takes for elites to get ahead.

If the elites are poets and their only way to get ahead is to write interminable reams of “race opera,” as my late wife liked to put it, the floodgates of race opera will open. If the elites are poets and their only way to get ahead is to write interminable reams of Stalin hagiography, Stalin will be praised to the skies in beautiful and clever rhymes.

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There are two big strawmen here. Let’s turn them into steelmen.

First, “the populace uses the government” is non-Burkean. The populace (not all of it, just the middle class) installs the government. Then it goes back to grilling. So long as the commoners have to be in charge of the regime, and the commoners are weak, the regime will be weak. They need to “fire and forget.” Otherwise, they just lose.

Second, Alexander has clearly never heard of the atelier movement. No, this is not the same thing as your grandma in front of the TV copying Bob Ross.

What happens is this: every (oligarchic) art school and art critic no longer exists. Not that they are killed, of course. Just that their employers are liquidated (not with a bullet in the neck, just with a letter from the bank). They exist physically, not professionally. They were already bureaucrats—they had careers, not passions. Who gets fired, but keeps doing his job just for fun? Certainly not a bureaucrat.

And every (oligarchic) artist no longer exists—not that they are killed, of course. Just that the rich socialites who used to buy their stuff got letters from the bank, too. Libs sometimes talk about a wealth tax—a one-time wealth cap, perhaps at a modest level like $20 mil, will concentrate the rich man’s mind wonderfully on actual necessities.

Elites like to get ahead. The people who got ahead in the oligarchic art scene can no longer get ahead by doing shitty, bureaucratic, 20th-century conceptual art. Because there were so many of them, and because the demand for this product has dropped by at least one order of magnitude if not two, elite ambition is replaced by elite revulsion.

The enormous supply-and-demand imbalance for both art and artists in 20th-century styles leaves these styles about as fashionable as disco in 1996. “Paintings” that used to sell for eight figures will be stacked next to the dumpster. “Artists” once celebrated in the Times will be teaching kindergarten, tying trout flies, or cooking delicious dinners.

Inevitably, some of these people have real artistic talent. (The first modern artists had real talent—Picasso was an excellent draftsman.) They can go to an atelier and learn to draw. They will—because now, acquiring real artistic skill is a way to get ahead in art. And again, elites like to get ahead.

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There is nothing “normal” or “natural” or “organic” about oligarchy. Does Alexander think “uncured” bacon is “organic” because, instead of evil chemical nitrates, it uses healthy, natural celery powder? He sure is easy to fool. But who isn’t?

Culture and academia is already yoked to the will of government in a “heavy-handed manner”—yoked not by the positive pressure of power, but the negative attraction of power. When the formal government defers to institutions that are formally outside the government, it leaks power into them and makes them de facto state agencies.

Power leakage, like a pig lagoon spilling into an alpine lake, poisons the marketplace of ideas with delicious nutrients. Ideas that make the institutions more powerful grow wildly. Eventually these ideas evolve carnivory and learn to positively repress their competitors, which is how our free press and our independent universities have turned our regime into Czechoslovakia in 1971, and our conversation into a Hutu Power after-school special. PS: Black lives matter.

The paradox of “authoritarianism” is that a regime strong enough to implement Frederick the Great’s idea of “free speech”—“they say what they want, I do what I want”—can actually create a free and unbiased marketplace of ideas, which neither represses seditious ideas nor rewards carnivorous ideas. But it takes a lot of power to reach this level of strength—and it requires liquidating all competing powers.

I have never been able to explain this simple idea to anyone, even rationalists with 150+ IQs who can grok quantum computing before breakfast, who didn’t want to understand it. Ultimately it reduces to the painful realization that sovereignty is conserved—that the power of man over man is a human universal. (Also, we all die.)

No surprise that nerds who think of power as Chad shoving them into a locker can’t handle the truth. PS: I went to a public high school as a 12-year-old sophomore, was bullied every day for three years, and graduated college as a virgin. Whoever you are, dear reader, you are not beyond hope. You can handle the truth.

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And yet: Alexander’s post is about Erdoğan—and his description of Erdoğan is spot on. It also is a perfect description of Orban in Hungary; it applies to Putin in Russia and Xi in China; and it is even pretty accurate for Hitler, Mussolini and friends.

What all these “strongmen” have in common is that they are provincial. Turkey is not exactly the center of the world. Even 20th-century Germany was nowhere near the center of the world, though it could at least imagine becoming that center. If Turkey just disappeared tomorrow, no one would have any reason to care except the Turks. Who needs Turkey for anything? What would collapse—the dried-apricot market?

Erdoğan’s problem is that he cannot vaporize the oligarchy, because the institutions that matter are not in Turkey. The provincial strongman has no choice but to follow the “populist” playbook that Alexander describes so well.

Orban can kick Soros’s university out of Hungary; he cannot do anything at all to Soros, let alone to the global institutions of which Soros is only a small part. He is indeed “arrayed against” these institutions, to which his Hungarian elites (who speak nearly-perfect English) will always be loyal. The contest is unequal and has only one possible winner, though it can last indefinitely long. Even Xi, whose country can quite easily imagine becoming the economic center of the world, is a provincial strongman—in fact, he sent his daughter to Harvard. Sad!

In a global century, the only way for these provincial strongmen to develop genuine local sovereignty is to go full juche. This is simply not possible for Hungary or Turkey, both of which are firmly attached to the cultural, economic, and military teat of the Global American Empire. Indeed it is barely possible for North Korea, a marsupial nation still in China’s pouch. So Alexander is right: these “strongmen” cannot win. Their regimes will all go the way of Franco’s. It’s impressive that they even survive.

Erdoğan simply has no way to attach his best citizens to his own regime. They are citizens of the world. Elites always like to get ahead. If you’re a world-class talent in anything, why would you try to get ahead in Istanbul? Suppose you want to make a name as the world’s greatest Turkish writer. Succeed in New York, then come home. Turkey is a province; provinces are provincial.

Yet I am not a Turk or a Hungarian, and neither is Scott Alexander. The greater any empire, the more essential that its fall begin at the center. The Soviet empire did not fall from the outside in; it was not brought down from Budapest or Prague; it fell from Moscow out.

And the American empire will fall from Washington out—though that may not happen in the lives of those now living. And although nature abhors a vacuum and no empire can be replaced by nothing—and oligarchy, in the modern world, can only be replaced by monarchy—the “strongman” of this monarchy will not look anything like these mere provincial dictators.

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The result of Alexander’s perceptive calculations, which are only wrong because their only input data is the present, is simply that our present incompetent tyranny is and must be permanent. Of course, every sovereign regime defines itself as permanent. Yet when we look at the past and not just the present, we see that no empire is forever.

Some grim things are happening in America today. These grim things have a silver lining: they expose the gleaming steel jaws of the traps that the aristocracy sets for its commoners. They remind the cattle that a goat is not a cow and a baa is not a moo.

Every pundit is a Cicero. And amidst all the greatness of his rhetoric, Cicero could not imagine a world that had no use for Ciceros—a world governed by competence, not rhetoric. By the time Caesar crossed the Rubicon, nothing had failed more completely than the whole Roman idea of governance by rhetoric—an idea many centuries old, an idea whose execution had beaten all competitors to capture the whole civilized world, but an idea that was past its sell-by date. Rome herself was no longer suited to it. The republican aristocracy of Rome no longer meant Regulus and Scipio and Cincinnatus; it meant Milo and Clodius and Catiline. Its factional conflict was the choice between Hutu Power and Das Schwarze Korps. Caesar was not a disaster; Caesar was a miracle.

In the death of the American republic, every detail is different. The story is the same. The contrast in capacity between SpaceX and the Pentagon, Moderna and the CDC, Apple and Minneapolis—between our monarchical corporations, and our oligarchical institutions—is a dead ringer for the contrast between the legions and the Senate.

The sooner we stop pretending that this isn’t happening to us, the better results we can get. Wouldn’t it be nice to get to Caesar, Augustus and Marcus Aurelius, without passing through Sulla and Marius, Crassus and Spartacus? Alas, from here and now it seems unlikely. But I can’t see why every serious person wouldn’t want to try.