Observation and experience tell me that my mind works differently from others. Does that make me neurodivergent?
By a colloquial definition, I think it does. Still, self-declaring such a status feels wrong. Like I'm vying for special treatment or attention. Then again... Aren't I?
This is a personal blog. I'm not an expert on neurodivergence, and none of this is meant to disparage or challenge anyone who uses or identifies with the term. I'm as tactful as I know how to be, and always willing to learn. Beyond that, I'll try not to worry about it too much.
The question first occurred to me when I noticed a high concentration of ND individuals in my social circle. Some have dealt with things like Aspergers and ADHD since childhood, but many have only been diagnosed in adulthood. I get along great with these folks, and our friendships feel timeless in a way that's difficult to describe. It feels like we understand each other on a different level.
Then I thought about how many habits I have that fit the profile. I twitch, fidget, pick, and clench my hands and jaws, often rhythmically. When I'm bored in public I enjoy counting things, like the number of lights in a room or speakers on a stage. I have trouble balancing between too little and too much eye contact. I laugh at inappropriate times. Sometimes I get hyper-focused on a project and forget to eat or bathe.
Most folks who know me well would agree that I don't take a standard approach to life. I'm not average by most definitions. My head spins trying to sort through quirks and figure out which ones are "divergent" enough, or in the right ways, to fit into any specific category. And it's hard to get opinions. Autism, ADHD, and mental disability can be tricky topics even among advocates and allies.
Getting an accurate accounting of my history is tough as well. Talking to my parents about my mental and social idiosyncrasies somehow feels like an accusation. My most diplomatic language does little to ease my mother's worry that the issues in my life reflect her own parental failures. Maybe sometimes they do, but opening old wounds is never my intent.
My mom says I didn't really talk until I was at least two, maybe three? She claims it was because I didn't need to; with all the other kids she babysat, I could just point to what I wanted and get it. I am hesitant to ask for the full story, knowing I'll get an obscured version.
Separately, I did speech therapy because I said my "S"s out my nose. This I remember well. No teeth, no tongue, no air in the mouth at all. Like I was trying to blow a bug out of my nose. "Aunt Susan" sounded more like "Aunt Fnufnan." Thankfully that was fixed by Kindergarten (my first year of school, since I was deemed too socially immature for pre-school).
Within the past few years, my dad also told me that I was "almost put on medication" for ADHD in grade school. This took me by surprise, as my brother had been diagnosed with ADD and struggled with it throughout his school career. Telling me I might have a similar condition would've been nice. But it probably made sense not to worry about it. By and large, I was an excellent student and a well behaved child.
As far as I can tell, none of these traits or experiences have been major barriers in my life. Maybe that's distinction enough? But then, there's also that extra categorical layer: maybe I'm just high functioning.
The word "neurodivergent" seems to lose power as it comes to describe more conditions and states. Social media posts and listicles give me way too much positive reinforcement on this. I can relate to most of the "ADHD life" memes. In some ways it starts to feel more like the kind of stunt or fad. Spread too thin, the concept is reduced to the kind of slogan conceived by the "Me" generation. "Think different."
That's about as cynical as I'll get about that. Academics and individuals using the idea of neurodiversity to better understand the vast range of the human experience deserve respect and support. They can't help that the message gets co-opted by the internet machine.
I appreciate the light shed on neurodiversity in the information age. But it's difficult to know how to process it all as it pertains to my own life. Perhaps "neurodivergent" is not a useful classification for me without a proper diagnosis... Which comes with its own complications.
Anyhow, I suppose for now I'll continue just being different.
No comments:
Post a Comment