#neurodivergence and mental health in fiction

[faithfromanewperspective]

you are my unfinished business: prologue

so i did a thing! i'm still figuring out a03 so i hope the link works:

or read the prologue here! below the cut. just wanted to thank @ibrushmyteeth-donttellanyone for the initial inspo behind it, as well as convos with @thevagabondexpress and @daisymydaisycarstairs and @luciehercndale for helping me realise what i could contribute by actually posting the fic i half wrote while procrastinating my thesis that ended up being longer than my actual thesis

more notes on why i wrote it etc on the a03 site, but hope it can be something someone more than just me finds healing so here goes:

p r o l o g u e

Christopher Lightwood was a scientist, and he observed things. When he was a child he had observed his uncle Henry in his laboratory mixing things together, and was first struck by conviction: I am meant to be doing that. He loved the feeling of invention, the feeling of possibility and wonder. He loved how he could lose himself in a method, in the tedious steps that together would make up a new way of putting the universe together and yield results no one had ever seen before. Of course, often the thing no one had seen before was just different coloured explosions. He supposed someone else might grow impatient with the lack of results, but Kit had never felt that. He found that doing nothing new was the most frustrating experience of all, and after all, he had started his scientific career by knocking down a wall in the Fairchilds’ house. And that was just the first of what some might consider failures. He had a lot of experience with patience.

Yet the summer had brought something new to him: an invention that had not only worked, but saved countless lives, including his own. He wasn’t one to relish praise like Matthew, but the satisfaction of having made a difference warmed his soul. It quietened his worries when he wondered if he should spend more time in the training room like the other Shadowhunters. He had a purpose, and a useful one at that. And being recognised was just the cherry on top.

Christopher thought suddenly of the event that had prompted his need to use his interest in science to help others. It was a fuzzy memory, but he had recalled it so many times over the years that he was sure he remembered the important parts. It was when he first realised the world could be a cruel place where pain wasn’t so easily fixed. It was when he had learned his cousin Jesse had died. He remembered the twisting of his stomach at the sound of the pain in his father and his uncle Gideon’s voices; he remembered his father’s sobs when he spoke of how his aunt Tatiana wouldn’t let them do anything to comfort her, but instead withdrawn, cold, bitter and vengeful. Christopher hadn’t known what that meant at the time, having only known kindness. But that had been years ago. In the last four months especially he’d applied his observational mind to people—since James had been in love and he hadn’t known it—and now he fancied himself almost as good at reading people as his sister Anna.

And he saw a trace of that bitterness in James.

It was ironic, really, how in the end his inventions had helped Jesse. Christopher was still reeling from the shock he felt when the green-eyed boy sitting next to Lucie in the Institute had introduced himself as Jesse Blackthorn. And when Lucie had pulled him aside after the meeting with all their aunts and uncles, and confessed she’d lied to him about making a beauty potion and all the ingredients she’d asked for had been for Jesse. And whatever she’d done had been successful: she’d brought him back to life. Or he apparently hadn’t been properly dead to begin with? Christopher longed to investigate how that could be possible.

But now his attention was on James. He’d come straight to Curzon Street when Lucie’s letter had arrived at the Fairchilds’ London house where he and Thomas had been further working on his fire messaging project. James had just received the second semi-successful fire message ever and Christopher longed to gush about that with his friend. When he was passionate about something he could talk about it through a fire or a demon attack—he’d done both on multiple occasions—but the words died on his tongue at the look on James’ face answering the door. Instead, he’d simply taken note of the doily he'd destroyed and stumbled over his words and now they were upstairs in the armchairs in James and Cordelia’s study. He felt the familiar ache in his chest he associated with conflict between the brothers closest to his heart. And he’d messed up already: James thought he and Thomas had done this simply for information, like he and Math were some sort of science project they needed to collect data for. Christopher couldn’t have James think of their friendship like that.

“It’s not like that—” Angel, no matter how much attention he’d paid it since the summer, talking about feelings was much more delicate a tool than any he had worked with—“we’re the Merry Thieves, one for all, and all for one—”

“I think that’s the Three Musketeers,” James interrupted, and was Christopher imagining it or did his shoulders relax ever so slightly? Maybe it was wishful thinking, book references usually cheered James up, but now…

“There were four musketeers, if you count D’Artagnan.” He didn’t even know why James looked so awful, but failing to think about a metaphor long enough to figure out its relevance was a bad sign. Christopher vaguely heard James say his name, exasperated, as he took a breath to calm his thoughts and approach the issue more directly.

“We’ve never had a fight,” he began. Saying it out loud felt like announcing some very important science was no longer at their disposal: the age of blissful childhood was over, and now they had to join the real world where happiness was sparse and time or money spent on anything had to be accounted for. Still, he forced himself to keep going. “I mean, none of us with each other, at least nothing serious. If you’ve had a falling-out with Math—” he knew he was diving into unknown territory now, a project that couldn’t be solved by science and magic, but who would he be if he didn’t try? He felt his voice lower to a whisper, “we want to help repair it. We need each other, especially now.”

“Oh, Kit.” James shut his eyes and shifted in his seat, before suddenly relaxing again as if he’d thought of getting up and decided against it. “Math and I are not at each other’s throats. It’s not like that. Nor are either of us angry with Cordelia, or she with us. Things between us are just—” he put his face in his hands for a moment then opened his eyes again— “complicated.”

“We need Cordelia too,” Christopher said, and then they were talking about Belial and Lilith again like they were ordinary Shadowhunters trying to protect their city and the ones they loved. James still looked haunted when he talked about Jesse—Christopher still found it hard to believe his enigmatic cousin was alive, he’d met him, all thanks to Lucie—but he managed to get up to write some messages. Even if he didn’t share Christopher’s enthusiasm for the opportunity to utilise his fire messaging project, their banter felt almost normal. Still, Christopher had arrived with something to do, and he was going to properly attempt that conversation. The way he hadn’t had a chance to ask Thomas about the letter he’d written to Alastair when the two of them had come to see him and explain it yesterday morning, but the way he thought he had gotten across to Grace that she hadn’t been forgotten when he went to see her immediately after. He wanted to show that kind of friendship to James, too.

“Why are you writing to Lucie and Jesse?” James asked. Christopher stopped writing mid-sentence and stared at him. Had he done something wrong? “I’m staying at the Institute,” James clarified. “I have to head over before sunset, I’m just here to get my things.”

“Oh, I can help with that,” Christopher said. He quickly sent the unfinished letter to the Institute as a fire message (after all, none of them had stayed complete when they arrived, so why should they need to start complete?) before James could complain about him setting fires in his house, and started on a letter to Cordelia and Alastair. James stared at him but turned back to his writing once the flames were gone. Christopher decided it wouldn’t do any harm to let the rest of the messages be taken by runners instead.

“All done,” he said to James, who took the pile of letters and went to find some coins. Then, remembering his previous offer, he added, “What do you need for the Institute? Socks? Books? Spectacles?”

“I’ll do—” James broke off, then ran his free hand through his hair as he turned around to look at Kit. “You’re right, Kit. You know me. And right now I can’t even find any—I’ll have to ask Effie—” he sighed and closed his eyes. “Thank you, Kit. I’m sorry. I’ve been so rude and you’ve been so kind, coming over and offering to help.”

Kit was already scanning the room for James’ favourites, he swept them into a pile on the table next to his reading glasses and their discarded ink and notepaper. James was still rummaging through the drawers, for money apparently, Christopher reaching into his pocket and added a shilling to the pile.

“James, it’s okay. I’ve got it all here.” He held up the coin and tried desperately to think of what his mother would say. “I know you’d appreciate it, that’s what friends are for. And you weren’t rude, not really, well if you were it just means—” James was staring at him now, not even bothering to close the drawer he was looking in. “I just wanted to know if you’re okay. And I can see that you’re not, and I wish you would let us help, but we can’t unless you’d tell me why.” There. He’d said it, and he thought he hadn’t done too badly. Christopher smiled a little to himself: a success was still a success, no matter how dire the circumstances.

“I’ve done something awful,” said James. “I’ve hurt Cordelia—why couldn’t I just tell her I loved her as soon as I knew? And I’ve failed Matthew and hurt him too in my negligence. He’s suffered so much—I had no idea just how bad it was until now—and I now have a chance to make it up to him. But the prospect of doing that all alone, without Daisy—”

“You won’t ever be alone, James, you have Tom and I and Anna and Lucie and Daisy does care about you as a friend at the very least. Shall I carry this downstairs?”

James nodded blankly and Christopher noted the hunch in his shoulders as he turned to exit the room. He shouted some things to Effie and thanked her for taking care of the house before turning to Kit.

“Thank you. It is easy to forget sometimes. I am lucky, I suppose. But Daisy, I don’t know if I could ever go back to seeing her as a friend only, or if I ever did, Kit, I don’t know how to assume how all-consuming it is and you don’t have to understand it, I know you’ve never been in love but I hope when you are that it isn’t nearly so complicated—Kit, have you been in love?”

Christopher thought of the Curies, a couple in love he’d longed to one day live up to, which made him think about his purpose and the science that he did. It really made his soul feel complete, but James wasn’t talking about being in love with the life he lived, but someone. He thought suddenly of Grace reading his notes and wondered—but wasn’t Grace in love with James, and him her? People could change, he supposed, but hadn’t James said he never saw Cordelia as a friend or had Christopher put his words together wrong, like he did sometimes?

“You’re not in love with Grace then?”

“No, by the Angel, not Grace, I can’t believe—” He broke off again and Kit noticed the panic in his voice. He shuffled his pile of James’ belongings into one hand and reached out awkwardly to touch his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay, we’ll work it out, I know you can do what you need to do and I know that I believe in you every step of the way, it might take several attempts but things work out alright eventually.” He thought that was something Henry would say to him in context of laboratory experiments but it was all the same wasn’t it?

As if James’ arms, which had been frozen at his sides, were suddenly released from a spell, he reached up to hug Christopher. “You and Tom always know what to do. You’ve been keeping Math and I in line long before we knew we needed it. You’ve always believed in us far too much.”

Christopher would take these words to heart when he saw Thomas with Alastair in the library. Life and love were complex, but they would work it out. And when Grace confessed to him and Cordelia, she said it was because of his simple belief in her to be able to put things right she had been able to do it. Maybe it was possible to combine more than just science and magic. Maybe he could expand his purpose in life: after all, what good was the work he did to help others without friendship to be able to reach the people he wanted to help to start with, and find people he could make discoveries with to be an even better scientist?

[gold-snek-hoe]

Hello and welcome to Opinions from an Internet Nobody. Today's essay:

"Ger therapy" is the new "You need Jesus": One Weirdo's Navigation through Cultural Shame

This is a supposedly well-meaning sentiment that is often weaponized against people who are behaving outside of perceived cultural norms. It's a favorite of homophobes who see queerness/transness as a mental illness, but I've been seeing it used to demonize kink (which historically is often linked to queerness), and more generally any "weird" behavior that makes people uncomfortable.

For example, otherkin, systems (especially those with fictives), and people who take fictional characters as partners. Y'know, "weirdos" who "can't separate reality from fiction." And, sure, sometimes there can be a problem with that distinction, but I know as well as you that most internet strangers saying "get therapy" don't actually give a shit about the mental health of those they target. It's code for "your behavior makes me uncomfortable, stop it."

Same sentiment as "you need Jesus."

This has actually taken me a long time to figure out. I've been in therapy for my entire adult life, working through various traumas, severe depression, anxiety, all that. Those were the biggest problems as they negatively impacted, and often endangered, my life. It was only after my hospitalization in 2020, where I was finally put on much needed medication, that I could start to grow into myself.

I changed my name. I top surgery. I came out as polyamorous. I finally got my official autism diagnosis. Now I'm fuckin' married! But... there are still things I'm working through in therapy. Mainly, shame over my "weirder" behaviors. My current therapist has been a huge blessing in helping me accept the things I was too ashamed to admit.

Now, I feel comfortable enough to share.

I'm otherkin. Always have been. My connection to my humanity is tenuous, and I'm sure that's connected to my autism. When mad, I feel phantom horns sprouting from my forehead. I have a tail that swishes back and forth at the base of my spine. In my soul, I am monstrous, and years of therapy has not erased that.

I feel like I'm only half in the physical world most of the time. This doesn't hinder my real-world success (I graduated college Summa Cum Laude, have an IMDB page, and am on my third book), but informs the way I look at the world. There's a whole other universe in my head that hums along with me in my day-to-day. That's part of why I'm so skilled as a writer. To ask me to divorce from that is to tell me to stop existing. Sorry, it's how I've always operated.

Lastly, and this is the one I'm really anxious about, I have a fictional husband. Now, looking at my blog, you might say "yeah, no shit," but I don't just ship myself with him. I mean I practice pop-culture Witchcraft, and the Goblin King is my patron. I mean I have a Labyrinth-themed tarot deck that I talk to him with. I mean I held a ritual to spiritually marry him. Basically, I Snape-wived myself.

And guess what? My therapist isn't concerned. It's not hurting my ability to live my life. I have other interests, hobbies, and goals outside of him, which he actively encourages in all our tarot sessions! I wouldn't be doing this if he didn't support me. My IRL spouse is usually there for whatever magical shit I'm doing, and supports me! Some of my closest friends know, and the only complaint I've gotten is "this guy seems important to you, I wish you told me sooner." Hell, my MOTHER knows and supports me, which is huge, because our relationship was pretty damaged after I came out as trans.

If you have a problem with the way I live my life, when literally nobody else does, take a good long look at why. You don't give a fuck about my mental health. You just don't like that I'm weird.

Tl;dr: My mental health is better than it's ever been since embracing the weird, so leave me and my imaginary husband Marak Sixfinger alone.

[itsbansheebitch]

Normal Quizzes for Normal People

I got g̷̪̻̦͑̒r̵̡̳̊̈́͆͂̈̇ͅȩ̶̲̞̫̼̼̤̪̈́͐̃̓͛͋ȩ̴̛̳̜͕̯̟̗͋͌͊̅̅̊͝͝ͅņ̷͇̮̮͔͕̊̒̆̆̚͝

[alpaca-clouds]

Accessibility for Neurodivergence and Mental Health

Okay, let's talk a bit more about accessibility in worldbuilding - especially in terms of making a world more accessible to neurodivergent people and folks who struggle with their mental health.

Now, let me start with one thing: While we obviously do not know a lot of how neurodivergent people lived in historical times - especially given that the concept was not around back then - but it is generally believed that especially for people with ADHD and a variety of forms of Autism live was actually a lot better, because a lot of out issues are closely linked with the fact that our brains do not do "9 to 5 work in an office". This is not true for all of us, but for quite a few. There is also some autistic people were seen a valuable for some of their unique traits.

It should at this point also be noted that in general it is also believed that in medieval societies people did work less than they do these days. (Around 30 hours a week.) Which also will be a lot more bearable for a lot of people with both neurodivergent brains and generally mental health struggles. Especially as outdoor work will also be considered easier for a lot of folks. Hence there is a chance that in a medieval setting for example folks might need a bit less in terms of accessibility, as their needs are generally already met.

That said, accessibility for a lot of neurodivergent people means first and foremost to create spaces for retreat. Meaning: Some sort of space or room, where folks can unwire. Soft, and dimmed light, maybe some good place to sit down, silence or alternative very soft noises. To allow for those places in public spaces and work places is just important for neurodivergent folks.

Of course, this is a bit less pressing in a setting where people are already in nature all the time. But especially science fiction settings this can be a big need.

Also important for a science fiction setting especially: Spaces that allow neurodivergent people to control their environment to some degree. Which means especially in terms of noise and lighting.

A general accessibility need that would also help pretty much everyone, is less working hours for everyone. As I said: Generally it is believed that in medieval times folks did not work more than 30 hours a week on average, so anything else would be unrealistic (outside of the sowing and harvest times). And if we are talking about a science fiction future, it should be assumed that a lot of processes can be automated. This goes specifically if we are talking something like a Solarpunk future, where we are going to assume that capitalism has ended, so stuff being automated is actually a good thing, because people do not need to work for a living.

Something that a lot of people also do overlook in terms of mental health needs, is green spaces. Our stupid monkey brains crave seeing nature and being surrounded by nature. It does improve our mental health. (Which also is, why in Cyberpunk we definitely should talk abotu the ongoing mental health crisis, that most cyberpunk stories do not really mention...)

And of course just some general accessibility needed would be... more and easier access to information about all the different t hings. I mean, a lot of the issues that both neurodivergent folks and folks with mental health issues have to deal with are prejudices. And those prejudices originate with the fact that folks in general are just not very well educated on those topics. In fact there is a general bias against all those things, partly stemming from prejudice, partly from people just never having learned how to deal with people that are not neurotypical.

Not to mention that more education on this would also help people in question to learn that they are not really weird, but just not neurotypical.

Once again, if you have anything to add, feel free!

[advashaviv]

Most prevalent lie in the world is probably: "oh sure, I'm just fine!"

~~~

ADHD-inspired cozy fantasy

[thinkingofausername]

is it enough only to have dreamed. to have lived inside your head and fiction. to have yearned. but never to have left a mark to be remembered by. is it enough

[fanvoidkeith]

"high empathy autism" this, "low empathy autism" that. you don't even know how fast my empathy can switch on a dime

(*update to this post before i even post it: the day i wrote this, i forgot to take my anxiety meds. oops. this still applies, though)

[lifebefore30]

OCD

My mental health journey has been going on for the last 15 years. I've only recently been diagnosed with OCD. Suspected ADHD but my new Doctor wants to do some further testing to confirm.

I have had so many Doctors and therapists and medications. At one point I completely gave up because it felt pointless. Nothing was helping. I figured between Googling and reading Reddit, seeing other people deal with these problems as well would be enough for me to get by.

But as the years went by, the depression and anxiety got worse. My episodes became more frequent and more severe. I was eventually in a place 2 years ago where I actually had decent health insurance and job, that I felt more comfortable and optimistic about searching for the right Doctor again. And I did.

Well almost.

I found a psychiatrist and got on medication that for once helped. But the clinic closed after a year and she couldn't take me as a patient anymore. I went into a bad spot again for a while not knowing what to do. I felt I was so close to figuring out my life for it to come crashing down again. (Mind you I still hadn't found a good primary care doctor yet).

So I eventually ran out of medication while waiting for my first appointment with a new Primary care. It MESSED me up so bad. BECAUSE not only did my psychiatrist disappear, I had changed jobs because the other one became too toxic and stressful for me. So new job, no medication. I was a wreck. My anxiety went super high. My depression went super low.

Fortunately, my husband was there for him and he understood. For the most part. Unfortunately, he also suffers from depression and can only do so much for me when he's in a bad spot too. Which I get. But he and our son was the only thing keeping me safe and not go on a Grippy Sock Vacation, AGAIN> But that's another story for another time.

Found a therapist soon after. I was caught off guard by how young he looked but I remembered I'm in my 30s now so I better get used to it lol. And he's truly fantastic! Best therapist I ever had. He actually cares and asks the right questions. And he explains things in a way I can relate to and understand.

After talking and taking assessments. I was told I have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. After he explained to me more about what it is, everything in my life started to make sense.

I had been under the impression that OCD was what I saw being represented in the media. They have to have things neat, clean and organized. Constantly washing hands. That's only ONE "type" or "symptom" of OCD. Whatever you want to call it.

I'm definitely not the most organized person in the world but I do like things to be even and things tasks done a certain way. There are a lot of other compulsions I deal with > BUT that's for another time.

[thedisabilitybookarchive]

'The No-Girlfriend Rule'- Randall, Christen

Disability Rep: Anxiety (MC), ADHD (SC)

Genre: Contemporary, Romance, Comedy

Age: Young Adult

Setting: USA

Additional Rep: Queer Fat Female MC x Lesbian POC Female LI, F/F, Transgender SC, POC SCs

For more information on summaries, content warnings and additional tropes, see here:

[ahmnom]

I have grown so attached to a character that I will no longer be drawing ship art of any other bitch but ME sorry guys I'm not in my hoe phase anymore I'm ready to settle

[hira492]

Okay, just 4 hours till I get to watch the episodes...

[femmilingus]

Toya’s Book Nuggets - Unusual Medicine

I binge read this yesterday and loved it. It sparked my interest in finally posting my highlights and notes on Instagram. I read a lot, but only a few books really grab me to the point of highlights on every other paragraph – and I am always dying to share these with people but that’s hard to do without spamming. It’s a really crucial read about autism and addition; something that is very…

[lycheequeer]

it’s all fun and games until she’s actually mentally ill 

then since so many of you have watered down and misused actual medical terms to the point that they mean nothing anymore people are so surprised because how DARE mental illness be ugly, tearing your own skin to shreds. how DARE it not be romanticized until it’s just another way to be quirky and dIfFerEnT

[nfinitefreetime]

#REVIEW: The Neurodiversiverse: Alien Encounters; Anthony Francis & Liz Olmstead, eds.

And now the third review in a row of a book I got sent as a free ARC, thus discharging all of my current review obligations. I feel kind of bad about how long it took me to get to this; I didn’t get a release date when they sent me the book, and I put it on a sort of mental “find out when this is coming out” list, only to discover it had already been released when they sent it to me. So this is…

[polinawrites]

An excerpt from my short story. 

You can read it on my Substack: https://open.substack.com/pub/linagmills/p/room?r=3b251o&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web

[basicallymysavedfolder]

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