Advantages of being neurodivergent?
I’m going to describe a way of thinking about being neurodivergent that has been gradually emerging for me this past year and a half.
There are many ways to think about being neurodivergent. Telling your disability story is one of the most important and personal decisions you can make. So, even more than usual, your mileage may vary. Also, there are a lot of ways this perspective can be misunderstood. I’ll do my best to clarify, but it’s possible people skimming might think I’m saying something hurtful or triggering. If you’re only up for skimming right now, scroll past. I don’t mind.
Being neurodivergent is hard.
Sometimes, it’s hard because the world is designed for people with brains unlike ours. We face pressure to hide who we are, and we’re expected to do things that our brain wasn’t meant to do all day while making it look easy.
Sometimes, it’s hard because our brains betray us. We want to get up from the chair and make dinner, but the connection between our brain and body isn’t working. We want to start that creative project we’re excited about but sit staring at an empty screen for hours. Countless times a day, we forget midway through an everyday task what we were doing, leaving a mess and nothing finished. We lie in bed in fatigue and pain when we want to go out to work, run errands, or see friends.
But what if the very difficulty of neurodivergence was an opportunity?
I don’t mean “opportunity” in the sense of “ADHD is a gift” or “I love being autistic.” These are good feelings to have. But the struggle itself could be meaningful, even if you see no advantages to your neurodivergence.
It means the Hero’s Journey (or Heroine’s Journey) is our birthright.
What makes a hero(ine) is confronting difficult situations and doing the right, but hard, thing. That might mean confronting fear while facing down a dragon. It might mean speaking the truth even if everyone rejects you for it.
I think most people have moments where they have to choose between the easy thing and the right thing. Ask anyone who’s tried to go to the gym first thing in the morning or give up coffee. But for us, everything can be hard, even painful. So the heroic moments are both more obvious–and more numerous.
We have opportunities to become hero(in)es multiple times a day, every day.
“If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror be polished?” -Jalaluddin Rumi
We can have some of the clearest mirrors in the world. (I DON’T mean that we shouldn’t feel hurt or be sensitive to the sandpaper).
I DON’T mean that we should just “push through everything” with sheer willpower. Sometimes the hard but right thing to do is to rest and care for ourselves–especially if everyone’s telling you to work harder. Sometimes the best strategy is to befriend the dragon rather than fight it. I mean acting according to our values as best we can. Stepping into the boots of a Hero or Heroine means we’re not “putting … life on hold waiting for a cure.” We’re doing what we care about, however overwhelmed or unprepared we may feel.
I often feel discouraged because I keep growing and learning new skills, but life gets harder faster than I can improve myself. It feels so unfair that most people get to find an equilibrium in their thirties or so, and for me, my family, and other neurodivergent people I know, it just keeps getting harder with no end in sight. But what if feeling like running to stay in place is just what it feels like to “level up” in life? What if living in a neurotypical world means we have to “level up” more than the average person?
Then there’s the meaning the struggle brings.
We can work on the world. We can try to change the world so other neurodivergent people can have a happier, safer life.
We can work on ourselves. We can practice being proud. We can learn to work with our brain so we can accomplish as much as possible with the brains we have. We can explore our interests, develop new skills.
(Note that I did NOT say fight to “overcome our disabilities” or become “normal.” Even if that were possible, it would mean turning ourselves into a copy of everyone else. Conforming. Assimilating. No thanks. I mean becoming a happier and more capable neurodivergent person).
Yes, of course we can pursue any purpose in life. Our life mission might have nothing to do with disabilities at all. We can pursue all the purposes neurotypical people can, plus our brains drop extra ones in our lap.
ASIDE: Coming to this perspective has been a struggle, and sometimes I have trouble holding onto it. I grew up in a high-pressure upper-middle-class suburban environment, absorbing the idea that one should be happy and healthy all the time. If you’re depressed? Something’s wrong with you, you should fix it, take some medicine to fix the chemical imbalance. (Taking antidepressants definitely helped and I’m glad I took them, but I took them for the wrong reason, and my expectations were unrealistic. Depression can mean real struggles with the world or finding meaning that are a natural, maybe a necessary, part of life. It’s not always or only a chemical imbalance. Antidepressants can make it easier to work through the content of depression. The problem was my belief that life can and should have no depression in it). If you feel like doing a few things is painfully hard and overwhelming while all your high school and college classmates are doing a lot more with seemingly little struggle and fatigue? Something must be wrong with me; college is supposed to be the most fun time in your life.
Without this perspective, I’d never have been diagnosed as neurodivergent. But I’d probably believe in myself more. I’d probably be stronger.
I know people who grew up in a less affluent environment who expected struggle and pain, physical and emotional, to be part of life. They have their own problems, but they don’t shy away from pain or struggle. They know they can handle it, because they always have.
So, what I’m saying here might seem obvious to folks like @clatterbane or @withasmoothroundstone. It might not be to some of the high school and college students I hear from here, who sound like I did.
Even if nothing in the outside world changes, I will feel happier and contribute more to the world if I see myself as a Heroine with something to offer, not a rat running on a treadmill barely stopping to breathe. I have some overwhelming months, maybe even years, ahead. It might help to remind myself I’m just descending to the underworld to prepare my gift to the world. If you want to take a Hero(in)e’s path too, welcome! it would be good to have company on the journey.