#helle.txt

[helle-bored]

For me one of the issues with being neurodivergent is that I've always struggled tremendously with the concept of "good enough". 

Most people who've tried to help me with this have treated it like a perfectionism issue, and it kind of is, but not in the way they think. It isn't that I have a clear concept of expectations and think I need to exceed them; it's that I almost NEVER have a clear concept of expectations and don't know where I'm allowed to stop...so I just keep going until it seems like no reasonable person (me) could find any flaw in it.

When I was in my first semester of grad school, my advisor told me my papers were approaching a postgrad level, and he used one as an example for my peers (and made some of said peers cry because they were panicked about the expectation of having to write like that).

And I said to my advisor, "Hey, did you know even just the short 300-500 word essays you're having me write are taking me 4-6 hours? And I'm getting burnt out." 

And he said, "Well, it should only take you half an hour."

And I was like, "Ok, cool. You've said I'm writing above my cohort's level. What should I cut out or do differently? Because I've read the assignment instructions but I really don't understand expectations very well and I'm having difficulty knowing what is good enough."

And that fucker!! looked me in the eyes!! and said: "Oh, keep writing at the same level, just don't take so much time doing it."

!!! the fuck !!!

...I think he thought he was making things easier for me? Somehow? But in reality, I felt like I was being punished for my perfectionism, because now I was expected to overachieve but in a quarter of the time. 

Anyway, I still don't really understand what "good enough" means, and regularly have to corner my boss and say, "Hey, can you clarify what you want?" --because otherwise I won't know where to stop.

And it's absolutely wild, but I think this trait is perceived as an "area for personal growth" in corporate environments -- because you're supposed to be able to just... know what's good enough without having someone tell you. And I fuckin hate it? I hate how needing concrete expectations is seen as immature somehow? 

And I hate how it's been perceived as primarily driven by perfectionist anxiety by the people around me, when (unlike with anxiety, which often doesn't have an addressable cause, and instead pops up elsewhere once you fix it in one place like a game of whack-a-mole) there IS a clear solution for it that makes this particular type of anxiety go away, and that solution is... clear concrete expectations and metrics for success, so that I know what to do and what my goal is.

I'm very curious if this is something other ND people struggle with, because oh man does it make me feel alienated and burnt out sometimes.

[helle-bored]

man i don't know who else out there is struggling with feeling like they're Too Much when they try to make friends? or like the only way they know how to connect with people is by being helpful, knowledgeable, or deeply engaged about some fandom thing (and end up either drained dry trying to be something for other people, or forgotten about when people move on)? but i am kissing you on the forehead. you deserve closeness and support and love, hang in there

[helle-bored]

I've come to a point where I'm distrustful by default any time someone has a habit of calling things I do "cute." For years a friend of mine found a lot of my behaviors to be cute: it was cute that I habitually take three right turns to avoid making a left turn on a busy road; cute that I eat the same thing every day for lunch; cute that I choose to sleep on a cheap air mattress because I find them more comfortable than real ones. Cute that I stubbornly avoid simple things that seem easy to her, like making reservations over the phone. Cute that I spend so much of my time thinking about fictional characters instead of thinking about... I don't honestly know.

It wasn't until our friendship dissolved that I realized what she meant by cute was childish. She was pointing out behaviors that differed from how other adults behaved -- behaviors she thought were charming or funny, but not because they were unique; it was because she perceived them as immature. Things to grow out of.

I'm in my thirties. I hold a senior position in my field. By most accounts I'm doing pretty okay. I'm also neurodivergent! I do a lot of things a certain way because it makes it easier for me to live my life so that it's less stressful and difficult for me. 

I guess if I have one takeaway from this, it would be that people doing things in a way that's easier or more convenient for them is not an aesthetic. The accomodations I've created to live a life that reduces friction and anxiety don't make me less mature than people who do things the "normal" way. I hit all the markers of maturity that matter to *me.* (And what does maturity mean in this context anyway? Possessing a readiness and willingness to participate in capitalism and reproduction? It's a shit metric for measuring worth).  

I realize this fits into a broader narrative of people infantilizing neurodivergent individuals -- these are just my experiences as somebody who didn't even realize for years and years that people were calling me childish by making a big deal (framed positively!) out of how I do things. Maybe they didn't realize it either. Anyway, this experience became a reminder to myself to think before assigning "cute" as the label to people who act differently than what is perceived as the norm.

[helle-bored]

something i really enjoyed about 2ha is how easily chu wanning can be read as autistic!

he has a whole host of sensory sensitivities. he's particular -- to the point of notoriety -- about the texture and flavor of food, and prefers to eat the same thing every day. he's sensitive to noise and dislikes crowded or loud environments because they're overwhelming and distracting, and he frequently eats alone and avoids the dining hall. he's highly proficient in certain areas, like mechanics, and prefers to quietly work on detailed projects over socializing. he has difficulty reading other people and prefers to take what people say at face value without probing into their true intentions. he has difficulty identifying his feelings and communicating them to others. the way he's perceived by people who don't know him well is at odds with the way he actually feels. he cares deeply about others and prefers to show it through actions over words because forming the right words is a struggle. he's rigid and unyielding about what he believes to be right and refuses to be bought or bribed. he is willing to go against conventions for the sake of his principles.

key to my enjoyment of chu wanning as a character is the fact that, in opposition to the common tsundere trope where a cold character softens and outwardly becomes warmer, he doesn't change much over the course of the narrative; instead, it's mo ran's view of him that changes. mo ran learns to see the softness that was always there. chu wanning is not required to stop being the way he naturally is in order to be loved or appreciated by the people closest to him, and i just think that's neat.

[helle-bored]

There is no afterlife in Christianity that isn't a punishment to me. Knowing someone who means the world to me is being punished while I'm in heaven and unable to do anything about their suffering would in itself be a punishment.

I can only see two ways around this: 1, one's memories of people in hell are removed or suppressed, or 2, one's ability to care about the suffering of others is altered so that one no longer cares about it. Neither of these seems particularly moral.

"You'll have so many wonderful things to do and see instead of thinking about the bad things!" This is an example of option number 1.

"It was their choice not to believe." -> ok but in this hypothetical situation, I didn't make their choice and I'm still suffering because they're suffering. -> "God will help you understand it was their choice and he will remove your suffering." See option number 2.

There's a third option, and that is that people just do not care about the suffering of others to begin with, sidestepping this dilemma entirely. I can't help thinking there's so much suffering that occurs in this world that could be addressed, except a fair number of people look the other way while telling themselves those people deserve it. They plan on continuing this behavior in heaven.

[helle-bored]

"I'm just not much of a reader 😔" I say when people ask how many books I read last year, after reading approximately ten million words of fanfiction

[helle-bored]

Self Rec Tag Game

I was tagged by @m0srael (thank you!) whose rec list is here!

Rules: We would like to ask you to recommend us 3 of YOUR fics: 1 that is “most popular” and 2 that are “hidden gems!" Then tag some folks.

i'm a rebel so i'm gonna do 2 and 2

1. By and By (2.3K, G, Pirates of the Caribbean)

"Calypso sent me. Said your fool crew had endangered your life." His eyes shine, a little darker than in his other life, a little more weary, but he's just as steadily in love as ever. Will/Elizabeth, post AWE.

listen. i've been team willabeth since i was thirteen, and nothing's changed in the past twenty years.

2. at the end of his tether (4.3K, M, Harry Potter)

There's a worn page folded in an inner pocket of Harry's robes with a single underlined paragraph. Discrete magical signatures have been observed after the destruction of a Dementor. Some scholars believe this implies that the souls of its victims persist as captives within its form, as opposed to undergoing immediate obliteration, and therefore serve the purpose of providing the creature with sustenance over a prolonged period of time. Harry has carried it for nearly two years.

i feel like this fic was a conversation between myself and the darkness that comes out of grief. like, things happen that are pretty awful and they can fuck a person up, but sometimes it's the ways we're fucked up that change the world. please check out the absolutely beautiful art by @babooshkart i commissioned for the fic here!

--

1. England, In Absentia (2.5k, G, Last of the Mohicans (1992))

Scenes from Cora's journey west with her new family, and the ways in which she leaves England behind. AU where Alice and Uncas survive.

this is my most technically proficient and beautiful fic, and the fourth scene is the most romantic thing i've ever written. absolutely wild thing to say about a fic i started because i randomly had the desire to write about a woman having her period in the 18th century.

2. i'll see you with your laughter lines (1.6k, T, Hunger Games)

If Finnick were just a little too ugly for the rest of the world, Annie wouldn't mind. (Post-70th/pre-75th games.)

i wanted to create something where grief doesn't touch them -- even when you know it's in the background of their lives, and even when you know what's coming. just a window into a moment of joy where they can laugh at the shadows.

tagging uhh @tarysande, @three--rings, and @moonstruckwytch!

[helle-bored]

man on one hand i want 2ha fandom to blow up the way the untamed did so that we're all blessed with the same sort of neverending supply of godtier fics. any au, any dynamic, any kink you want? it's there. for mdzs anyway, it's there.

...on the other hand, though, 2ha fandom is like a powderkeg and once it reaches critical mass it WILL explode and there will be no survivors. the nuance required in order to read 2ha and then engage in fandom without pointing fingers at every other clown also present at the clown show and accusing them of being monsters for liking mo ran is beyond too many people.

on one hand, more fic. more art. more zines and more merch. on the other hand, scorched earth dropkick hair-pulling callout posts over a fictional character who is fictional. god, what I'd do for 40k fics like mdzs has, but at what cost?

[helle-bored]

so i'm not religious but i go to church at a ucc congregation that doesn't give a fuck that i'm essentially a queer atheist-leaning agnostic socialist (a fair number of them are too). and at this point i find the sermons kind of actively not my thing but i like the old hymns and i love the old people. (relationships to religion are complicated! sometimes i just skip the sermon altogether and show up for lunch hour. nobody cares.)

my favorite old person died last winter while i was living elsewhere; he was in his early eighties and had a heart attack one morning. i just moved back this week. his wife, who is immunocompromised and was watching via zoom, saw me in the pews and when the portion of the service came up where we could all share things with each other, announced how good it was to see me -- how she knew her husband had loved spending time talking with me, and how seeing me reminded her of watching her husband and i chatting animatedly together, which we did every sunday for the three or so years that i knew him. we loved to shoot the shit!

i really loved that old man. i think about him a lot.  he was incredibly sharp, wry, and quick-witted. he saw me as the best version of myself and he believed in that version of me even when i was struggling. to him, all versions of me were the same: flying high or in the gutter, they were all interesting, bright, funny, and loved. he texted me on my birthday every year. i rarely texted him back; i never knew what to do with his earnest, effusive praise. i didn’t have much emotional bandwidth to give back, but he was a bright spot in my life.

i don’t have a moral to this or even a point really, but i found it very touching how the love i had for someone is still present in the world, outside of myself, even though that person is gone. i loved him and he loved me, and the joy we had chatting about whatever random bullshit we felt like -- not usually church-related stuff at all, just life -- is a memory that still comforts his grieving wife. how strange is it that our love can be transformed like that. how comforting is it to have proof that the love we have for each other ripples out into the broader world in ways we could never predict or plan for.

[helle-bored]

About nine years ago I climbed a mountain outside Whitefish Montana, and partway up, next to a little bridge, there was a large rock with a cross and a worn inscription carved in it in all caps:

"[...]ck my friend

[...]un and play

I love you

Mom and Dad

Cracker Tim and Cats"

I don't know the story behind this rock but I have my guesses -- that this family lost their young child; and that maybe Cats was a person, or maybe their child loved their cats so much that whoever carved this included them because they thought it's what their child would want. I still think about this rock and the people on it all these years later. I hope they're doing well. 💙

[helle-bored]

today i successfully interrupted a hawk's plan to fuck up an owl's day, an owl that had been hanging upside down from its claws and screaming like a deranged baby, and tbh i wish i could put that sort of accomplishment on my resume