#what if my head decides to focus really hard and be really neurotypical only for the duration of the test

[abandonedsdjfhcvndfbv]

Guys imgeting test for adhd tomorrow im scared . i need to get the best grade formy adhd or im killing myself

[purplespaceace]

very few characters actually have adhd in media, and when they do, what people mean by that is just that they fidget a lot, not that they have adhd. the only character with adhd I can think of where I’ve watched/read it and I’ve gone, “oh, this character actually has adhd” is Jake peralta from Brooklyn 99. so, here’s my take on how to write adhd, with examples from Brooklyn 99.

I’ll do the best I can to separate them into three categories; the three things people look for in adults with ADHD, which are rejection sensitivity dysphoria, an interest-based nervous system, and emotional hyperarousal.

I’ll also randomly bold and italicize bits so people with ADHD can actually read it.

Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria, or RSD

Rejection sensitivity dysphoria makes people with ADHD overly sensitive to criticism, even if they perceive a rejection and there actually isn’t one. Their emotions are also very strong generally. Because of RSD, people with ADHD become people-pleasers and can develop anxiety because they’re so eager to please.

For me, RSD makes me cry an embarrassing amount for any little reason. in your writing, make your characters overdramatic, criers, and/or people-pleasers. They’ll have trouble saying no. They may also be over competitive, as their perceived rejection may include losing.

how does Jake show this in b99? When Jake comes up with a catchphrase and Rosa says it’s terrible, jake is far more hurt than he should be. He hates losing, and he gets overly upset whenever someone says they don’t like him or don’t trust him, etc. he’s also a people pleaser who has trouble saying no.

An interest-based nervous system

An interest-based nervous system includes hyperfocuses and an inability to pay attention. It stems from the fact that we can’t make as much dopamine as neurotypicals. This means that while neurotypicals get dopamine after completing a task, people with ADHD don’t. That means that people with ADHD don’t have any reason to do tasks, especially those they don’t like. This leads to executive dysfunction—people with ADHD will know they have to or want to do something, but they can’t seem to do it. people with ADHD hyperfocus on things that bring them dopamine. I was obsessed with warrior cats for three years. But hyperfocuses can also last a short amount of time—I’ll have a drawing idea in the middle of class and won’t be able to concentrate on anything else before I finish it. this is where our impulsiveness comes from. we can leap into things we think will give us dopamine without thinking, which can lead to injury. We also tend to tell people personal things they don’t want to hear because of this, and don’t have very good boundaries. We sometimes say whatever comes into our head, which can also result in us being rude on accident. Our voices can also get very loud or we can interrupt people frequently because we’re so impulsive. When people with ADHD hyperfocus, they can forget about anything else. I’ll forget to eat if I’m busy reading a Wikipedia article about feminism in the 1850s, and won’t go to the bathroom or drink water either. It’s also important to note that taking away distractions doesn’t help, because we can do things like pick at our skin and daydream—something that people with ADHD do a lot of. Because of executive dysfunction, people can call people with ADHD lazy or irresponsible.

people with ADHD can also be extremely indecisive because ADHD affects our executive functioning, and making decisions requires planning and prioritizing, and task initiation, which are both executive functions!

people with ADHD also have poor memory for important things, but tend to remember random bits of trivia. Poor memory leads to object permanence problems, which means people with ADHD can forget to call a friend back for weeks, forget that they need to read library books in a closed cabinet, or forget that the vegetables they got will go bad. People can sometimes say that people with ADHD don’t care about anything because of this.

people with ADHD can also be prone to depression because of under or overstimulation. Boredom feels painful for people with ADHD. If we’re overstimulated, we can experience sensory overload—if things are too bright or too loud, if too many things are touching us at once—often it’s not because the thing is too intense, but because too many things are happening at once.

We also have something some people call dolphin brain, where we jump from one thing to another. From the outside, it looks really random, but I find that when I’m talking to another neurodivergent communication is generally easier. For instance, someone with ADHD might see a bee at a baseball field and tell their team about the time they saw whales at seaworld because their little brother was also stung by a wasp there. people will see no connection on the outside, but it makes perfect sense to the person with ADHD.

people with ADHD can also be overachievers, either because they hyperfocus on schoolwork or their RSD makes it so that failing at something isn’t an option. people with ADHD can also be very controlling and stubborn, probably because we hyperfocus on something and cant handle it being any different, and any change to our plans can be seen as rejection.

we can also have a hard time ordering our thoughts or doing stuff like math in our head. a lot of the time I number my thoughts like, 1. this reason, 2. this reason, etc. even if theres only two or sometimes I just need the 1. as a transition for my brain. when I don’t write it down or organize it like that it feels like I’m trying to grasp ropes that have been covered in oil (it’s not going to happen) and then my brain gets all jumbled and I have to restart at the beginning. this is probably just me, but it feels the same way when I’m reading long paragraphs of something uninteresting, or even short bits of historical documents because the way they phrase things is really pompous and hard to process.

also, stuff like caffeine calms us down and helps us focus. people who don’t take medication (me) often drink coffee or caffeinated sodas to focus.

another random tip, but if your character with ADHD also is genderfluid or genderflux, they might have a hard time figuring out their gender sometimes, because we can be known to have a hard time putting our feelings into words or our brains will just go, “nope, not thinking about that right now” and move on, which can be pretty frustrating.

people with adhd also have a trait called time blindness, where we have no idea how long something takes and therefore can’t manage our time very well. this often results in us being late or just sitting around the house because we got ready way too early.

we also have something called consequence blindness—we do things and are completely unaware of the consequences. if I don’t brush my teeth, I get cavities. but I don’t think about that when I’m deciding I’m too tired to brush my teeth.

in b99, jake regularly stays up all night solving cases and watches documentaries on random topics. He’s also very distractible—when they’re trying to find the person who sent Captain Holt death threats in the train yard, Jake says he and captain holt should take a train trip together sometime. Jake says that he’ll forget Amy if they don't work together because he’s like a goldfish.

Emotional hyperarousal

This is the only thing people tend to include when writing characters: the fidgeting. People with ADHD tend to need more stimulation than others, so we’ll do things like draw during class and chew on pens.

people with ADHD can also have apd, or auditory processing disorder. we tend to watch shows with subtitles on and may take a second to process what you’re saying, or hear it wrong. The subtitles thing may be partially do to creating just the right amount of stimulation, but if I don’t have subtitles, me and my other friends with ADHD will watch tv with the volume turned up very high. People with ADHD also can have a hard time interpreting other people‘s tone and have a hard time controlling their own. They can be bad at social cues and have poor manners because we don’t pick up on that stuff.

people with ADHD also tend to observe everything or nothing at any given time, mostly based on the amount of stimulation they have—if they dont have a lot in their main task, they’ll need to take in something else at the same time. Likewise, if I’m hyperfocusing on something I often don’t notice anything else, like if someone asks me a question.

in b99, Jake fidgets with things a lot. In the intro, he’s picking up and examining a figurine on his desk, likely because he was bored with paperwork or some other task.

[dannyphantom-rewrite]

Character ref for; Jack, Maddie and Jazz,

Art by @gally-hin / @gally-hin-phantom

Okay so first off; in terms of Actual redesign, I didn't change a whole lot. I'm actually very fond of Jack and Maddie's design's, my only real issue was with their proportions. Like...look as a lady person who is also thiCC I do not have a fucking wasp thin waist and I'm sure I'm not the only one, lmao. As for Jack? Godamnit he looked like a brick on toothpicks. Just Let him be a fucking Bara man! Anyway of course I asked Gally to do this one bc they're fucking great at drawing different body types

I also cannot and will not take credit for Jazz's outfit. I didn't have any issue with her canon clothes aside from them being a bit plain, so what she's wearing here was literally pulled straight off of her original concept art, which I will link here.

Anyway, getting to the Actual character lore now, let's start with

Maddie Fenton

-Full name is Madeline (I haven't decided on a maiden name yet)

-Born and raised on a farm in Arkansas, had a southern accent that she trained herself out of in college bc it was just one more reason for people not to take her seriously. Still sometimes uses "y'all" completely unironically bc old habits die hard.

-She has a really big family, and they're proud of her accomplishments but feel like she's wasting her talent studying ghosts, because really, up until the Fenton portal was up and running there wasn't even any solid proof they existed. Her sister Alicia is the one outlier there, and even if she doesn't understand, it she completely supports her.

-She majored in engineering and minored in psychology at Wisconsin EDU. Her, Jack and Vlad were all in the same engineering class, and that's where they met.

-Maddie is particularly interested in how ghosts think, analysing their behavior, their motives. Not only that, but they aren't just dead people with unfinished business, they've built an entire culture in the Ghost Zone that is completely seperate from humanity, and she wants to understand all of it.

-skilled marksman and 9th degree black belt, (which is. The highest fucking level there is holy shit? I looked it up after I saw it on her wiki page.)

Jack Fenton

-He's from Minnesota (Amity park is in Illinois and him and Maddie didn't move there until after they got married) 

-okay, "but why minnesota specifically" you ask? Because. I crave. Foot ball discourse. 

-minnesota vikings vs green bay packers guys do you UNDERSTAND WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS 

-The funny thing is that Jack only watches football casually while Vlad is a fucking die hard so when these two got together to see a game it was like....

-Jack: Here to chill and have a good time.

-Vlad: Primed and ready to start a fist fight at any given moment.

-I am never not going to be salty about how Canon Jack was portrayed like a complete moron 99% percent of the time. Like no...theres a difference between Actual Stupid and ADHD induced dumbass-ery.

-Am I saying Jack Fenton has ADHD? Yes. why? Because I also have ADHD and I have always vibed So Hard with his Character.

-Jack is loud and easily excited about things that interest him. He's impulsive and fidgety and yeah, a bit absent minded. He has a mouth that clearly runs so much faster than his head. His train of thought doesn't get derailed so much as it stops and takes several different detours on the way to it's final destination.

-and that's only the tip of the iceberg, really, I'd need an entire essay to get into this completely, but I just really relate.

-Jacks skill-set / interests regarding ghosts vary a bit from Maddie's, most notably in the sense that he doesn't believe that they're static entities already set in their ways, completely incapable of change.

-Jack majored in engineering and minored in Biology at Wisconsin EDU.

-Jack's work with tech is a bit hit or miss. He definitely HAS the engineering skills, but the intrest isn't always there and he's constantly jumping back and forth between different projects. He tends to focus on the concept work and schematics and leave most of the assembly to Maddie as a result. It's an arrangement that works well for them, and has drastically decreased the number of unintentional explosions in the lab.

-A lot of Jack's work tends to revolve around ghostly biology and Ectoplasm, figuring out how ghosts are made, what makes them tick, what the hell Ectoplasm Actually Is, how it's used as an energy source, ect.

-and yes, that does also mean he handles the dissections.

-See that facial scar? Yeah, that's not actually there at the start of the series rewrite but it's very important for plot reasons so I had to include it. Can't say much more on the subject because SPOILERs owo.

Jasmine Fenton

-Jazz is a 18 years old, and a senior at Casper high.

-Which means she prepping to go away to college and won't be around to keep an eye on Danny.

-Obviously that doesn't mean I'm just writing her out of the story, oh no. Know why? Because she's also gonna go to Wisconsin EDU. ya know who else is in Wisconsin? Fuckin' Vlad.

-Jazz is autistic, Although she passes for neurotypical in part due to symptoms being completely over looked in girls due to gender stereotyping and also the fact that she doesn't have any special interests that are considered " "too weird.""

- Her hyperfixation with psychology started at a young age in an effort to better understand people, and social/emotional cues and all that.

-Jazz is well liked at school but she's not popular or apart of any specific group or clique. She's very kind and compassionate to people, and just about everyone knows her, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually Considered her a friend. Except maybe Spike.

-I'm gonna have to give spike his own Character ref at some point, but he's this scary looking goth kid that's been held back twice. He's actually super sweet, just really fuckin' quiet and anxious. Him and jazz kinda ended up gravitating towards each other. She might do most of the talking, but they look out for each other.

-its not like jazz doesn't try to socialize, but it's difficult and she's found it much easier and less stressful to just. Keep to herself and let her interactions with her peers stay shallow and superficial. Sure, it's lonely sometimes but it's better than constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing or making some other misstep.

-One of Jazz's other special interests is football, and it's not so much the players or the game as it is the strategy of it? Started out as one of those things you do to bond with your dad, and she ended up getting really into it.

-She absolutley winds up getting into stupidly intense discussions with Vlad about it, too, lmao.

-Her and Danny probably bonded over SBNation bc that shit has both sentient satellites and ridiculously complex football mechanics.

-She's completely oblivious to the fact, but Dash has a massive crush on her bc holy shit this girl understands football (hey bud your toxic masculinity is showing put that shit away)

-I mentioned that Danny was in Cheer for a bit in middle school so it makes sense that she'd also be pushed into doing some kind of extracurricular activity.....so.....she was in a martial arts class for a bit thanks to Maddie and has a good grasp on self defense.

I think that's everything? I feel like I'm leaving things out tho? Idk if I did I'll come back and add on to this later and also pls don't hesitate to ask questions bc it really helps me flesh things out better.

[saundraswriting]

Missed Signals Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Reki might have a problem. He gets hyperfixated. He is too loud. He has a delayed sleep schedule. He forgets to eat and drink sometimes. He zones out a lot, and even more when he tries to pay attention. He fidgets with his hair and his clothes and his skin to the point of injury. His brain works, sometimes. Other times he has to fight it. He has learned to cope enough over the years but just like everything else, some days are better than others.

WARNINGS: Nothing too grand, descriptions of ADHD symptoms,

NOTES: I am trying to cope with what I am thinking is undiagnosed ADHD by projecting onto my favorite characters. I mean no harm and no offense.

Ao3 // Missed Signals Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Next Chapter

With the sound of the last bell, Reki and Langa tore off to the skate park. They had just finished mid terms. Both boys were lookin forward to the three day weekend. They both missed going to 'S' and the skate park and even Joe's place, trying to studying as much as possible. Langa was still terrible with his Japanese and Math even though he was getting better. Reki's English and Biology scores were dismal, but he seemed to be scoring consistently well on his other tests.

"Hey, Langa, Reki! Over here!" Joe called. "Long time no see." The four other skaters were standing near a bench in the skate park all seeming to wait for the two high schoolers.

"Joe! Cherry!" Reki's bright grin was visible to them from the entrance.

"Shadow! Miya!" Langa was a little more subdued in his greater but no less enthusiastic.

Both boys felt a weight shift off their shoulders at the presence of their friends. They were really finished with midterms, they had three days to hang out and skate with each other. Their week of hard work seemed to finally pay off.

"Hello there, boys. How did midterms go?" Cherry asked. He was dressed in his robes but had his hair up.

"I think we did okay. It helps that we struggle in different subjects. I am glad we decided to take the days to review things." Reki said.

"It was a smart idea to use past test to study off of, instead of just notes. Your notes are also so lacking but you do so well on the tests." Langa commented absently as he bent to retie his shoe.

"What do you mean?"' Joe asked Langa. They all watched as Langa fiddled with his shoelaces.

"Oh. Um. Reki often forgets his homework or his notes are very scattered. Rarely does he remember his homework and take good notes. But he scores high on his tests. I even overheard the teachers discussing that if he applied himself and did his homework and took better notes Reki easily could be a top student." At the second mention of his name, Reki stopped looking at his phone and came back to the conversation, glancing at Langa who was sighing at his shoe.

"Langa, your aglet is broken. You'll need new laces. but for now I think some tape will do." Reki said. Everyone looked at him confused. "What? The thing on the end of your laces is called an aglet. It is derived from old French meaning 'needle' or 'pin' designed for lacing shoes or bags easier. Originally they were for ornamental reasons." Reki rattled off unprompted into the silence. His face grew pink at the attention of the others.

"Reki, why do you know that?" Miya asked.

"I had a period of time where I customized shoes for people. I liked how different it was from doing a board. I could show off my art skills better and helped steady my hand a bit more." Reki shrugged, not seeing the big deal.

"You know the old French origins of a part of a shoe no one cares about but you can't be bothered to learn English?" Cherry demanded.

Reki shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassment evident. "I don't mean to not do it. I sit down and I get ready to do it but then my mind blanks. Sometimes I can force myself but then I am frustrated quickly and easily irritated. Sometimes I work on it at school but then my notes are shitty." Reki rubbed his forehead, voice hard. "Sometimes the lights are too bright. Sometimes my brain says no to English but yes to physics and even sometimes my brain says no to everything and I just sit there telling myself all the things I need to do but it is all too much and not enough." Reki's hands begin to shake, while Joe and Cherry share a look over his head.

"Skating is the only thin that helps. But when I skate I give up time that I could be studying or working on the homework. I don't mean to be bad at school, just sometimes I can't help it." Reki seemed to curl in on himself, drawing his shoulders up and ducking his head down. His voice grew small and weak.

"Reki we didn't mean to make you upset. We were just curious. You aren't the only person that has issues organizing their thoughts or staying focused. Has this been an issue for a while?" Cherry gently asked. Reki seemed to relax when the group stayed quiet, seeming to expect derogatory comments.

"I think I began noticing in my second year of middle school." Reki spoke to the ground, unable to look at anyone in the eye. Langa could see his muscles tensing, sensing Reki's desire to bolt.

"That is enough of that. We came here to skate. Let's skate." Joe broke the tension seeming to sense Reki's urge to flee.

"Yes! I have something I want to show you slimes." Miya skated off after joe towards the halfpipe, throwing taunts over his shoulder as he went. Reki and Lana flew after him, throwing their own teasing comments at Shadow, who deemed himself the adult supervisor of the rowdy children.

Cherry and Joe hung back a bit, watching them all tear off. The previous conversation still lingering in the air. Both adults tracking a brightly laughing Reki as he skated around Miya and Langa.

"Poor kid. That must be so frustrating. He tried to make it out like it was no big deal but even if he learned some coping mechanisms, they won't work all the time if he doesn't know what the source of the problem is." Cherry said.

"He won't. He isn't self aware enough to know that he even has symptoms. He seems to have an executive dysfunction though." Joe said, thinking back to his high school days, where everything was too much and not enough, the days of skating until the small hours to hopefully be able to focus, the cooking and baking he did to keep from tearing things apart.

"Maybe we can help him? Maybe if we play our cards right he will even let us. He is so smart, it must be terrible to be stuck in your own head like that." Cherry said, finally picking up his board. Joe followed suit.

"The hardest part is the executive dysfunction. You need and want to do the thing but because you're frontal cortex didn't develop fully you completely freeze and your brain checks out and you are worthless all day. No one else can really get it unless they know. It is hard to explain it to neurotypicals." Joe tried to explain to the best of his abilities. Cherry nodded and made a mental note to research neurotypicals and neurodevelopment disorders.

The two adults finally made it over to see everyone was in the middle of a trick imitating game. Miya was keeping the tricks to a lower difficulty than normal so Reki wouldn't get to disheartened Joe noticed. Langa was doing pretty well, some of the more subtle footwork tripping him up since he wasn't a long term veteran. They skated for a few more hours before finally taking a water break. They were leaning against the fence or the bench or even each other in Reki and Langa's case. Langa had his full attention on Reki as he lectured on another topic, Cherry wasn't sure but it seemed to be about the manhole covers in the streets.

"They have to be round cause any other shape will fall in when turned upright. It is to save the people who are in the pipe below it." Reki was saying. Langa soaked up every word, and Cherry almost felt sorry for how gone the kid was for Reki.

"Honestly kid, why do you know that?' Joe said, looking just as interested. Cherry could only sigh and hope he wasn't as readable on how gone for his idiot gorilla.

"I collect interesting facts. I like to keep them in my brain, never know when you need them." Reki said. Joe just smiled down at the young man, fondly.

"Of course you do, kid. Of course you do."

[honeylikewords]

Talk to me about tros!!!! I need to know about Poe!!

Okay, I’m finally sitting down to answer this anon, and a few things before I start!

1. Most of what I’m going to say will really only make sense if you go see The Rise of Skywalker yourself. While it’s far from a perfect movie, it’d take way too long for me to try and transcribe everything that happens in the film, and the context and nuance of certain scenes. So, yeah, while it’s not a good movie, if you’re invested in seeing how the movies have played out, you should probably go see it yourself.

2. I have some... mixed feelings about the movie. I also know that what I don’t like, I can choose to ignore; despite the disappointments of the series, I don’t have to take Rian or JJ’s bullshit as MY canon. I get to decide what I do and don’t adhere to as canon. Everyone else has their own varying scales of how they respond to canon-- some are super adherent to canon, some don’t care about anything at all-- and that’s fine. So although I have beef with how all this unfolded, I also know that I can take my love that I have for the characters (and all the potential that The Force Awakens had) and carry that on through my own interpretations, re-writes, et cetera, and I can choose to ignore the poor decisionmaking on the parts of Disney and Rian/JJ/who-the-fuck-ever. 

3. This ask is very open-ended, so I’m going to have to put some parameters down for myself because otherwise I’d get too overwhelmed with the breadth of information I’d need to present about TRoS. A comprehensive review would be really hard to write out, so I’ll just list some initial impressions (I haven’t been able to see it a second time, but likely will in the near future), and some of the relevant Poe-related issues in the films. If you wanna know more, feel free to send in more specific questions (specificity can help, because with my neurotype, I can easily be overwhelmed by large, “general” questions, and getting more granular can help me rein in and focus on a specific idea)!

4. Also, this post isn’t going to be friendly to R*ylo or people who straightwash Poe/are only interested in him as a straight guy. R*ylo is fucking gross, and I’m gonna rip it apart in this post, and Poe isn’t straight. I try not to be too aggressive on here (I’m generally not very aggressive at all!), but the fandom is just so toxic and vile at times that I feel like I need to put my foot down on these topics and say a firm “no” to R*ylos and Poe straightwashers. Oh, and I’ll be talking about the racism in the movie, as well as in the fandom, so buckle up for that, too. So consider this the “bigots begone!” spell as I wave my wand and attempt to shoo them all away!

Anyway...

From here down are spoilers for Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker. If you’re interested in seeing the movie spoiler-free, please scoot waaaaay past this post! Last warning!

And, with that out of the way, here we go!

Alright, here’s a list of stuff as it occurs to me. I’m almost overwhelmed with information, so it’s hard to condense my thoughts, but I’ll try my best!

1. The whole Zorri thing was a fucking nightmare, but not as bad as it could have been. It was really bad, believe me, but, like, it can be ignored easily (though if you’re anything like me, it’ll still leave a sour taste in your mouth). Like I predicted, Zorri was introduced to straightwash Poe and effectively quash any queer interpretations of his character and relationship with Finn. 

But, like, Poe and Zorri had no chemistry. It was almost embarrassing; they were clearly trying to work the “badass woman” angle, but, eh, she was just, basically, a minor blip on the radar; incredibly boring, incredibly useless, and just, like, a “sexy lamp” that could easily have been replaced. She added literally nothing to the film and was blatantly just an insert to try and prevent people from being able to make the case for a queer Poe. But, too bad, Disney! Poe is pansexual, dumbasses!

Oh, and while I’m on the topic of Poe’s queerness, I should add that I’m not really a big FinnPoe, myself; when it got big after the release of The Force Awakens, if felt like just another creepy Tumblr fetishization of male relationships, so that really set the tone for how I’d see it in the coming years. It’s grievously oversexualized on this site, but I also respect that, for many actually queer fans, the ship represents seeing themselves in Star Wars, and I do totally see their bond as canon. I completely acknowledge that Oscar wanted to represent the queer fans who wanted his character to be queer, and in that way, FinnPoe is definitely canon in some form! 

So, I do have a complex relationship with FinnPoe, in that it’s not my personal favorite ship (I vastly prefer FinnRey, since I never really felt that Finn and Poe had a romantic tension, but felt that Finn and Rey did), but I do respect the importance of it for queer fans and for trying to push at the limitations a major series like Star Wars has had for so long. Star Wars has been dominated as a straight, cishet, white man’s fandom; it’s time other people got a chance to love it and see themselves in this vast universe, too.

The cast also seems to be leaning into FinnPoe as a form of protest against censorship and homophobia in the fandoms and film world. They’re using their positions as major film stars to push back and say “hey, queer folks belong here, too”, and that’s so great!

But, anyway, the point is, Zorri sucked, and Poe’s not straight. He’s certainly capable of being attracted to women, but he’s not a straight dude, because he’s equally capable of being attracted to men and nonbinary people as well. 

Thankfully, Zorri and Poe never actually form a relationship in TRoS. He jokes about asking for a kiss, she tells him to go, and then he, at the end, sort of motions his head as if to say “wanna go kiss?” and she, again, tells him no, which he shrugs off. It’s pretty shitty, but easy to ignore.

Anyway, Poe is pan, Finn is pan, Lando is pan, Luke Skywalker is gay and nonbinary, Rey is nonbinary and probably ace, maybe interested in girls, I’m still ironing my hcs for her out, and no one can stop me! Go ahead and try to kill me, Disney (and homophobic Star Wars fans); if you strike me down, I shall become more powerful than you can possibly imagine!

2. Poe’s “backstory” is such a fucking trainwreck. They basically tried to nix a bunch of what was already canonically established in order to, get this, make Poe a drug dealer. 

It’s a little more complex-- the idea is that Poe was a pilot for a group of pirates for about six years, from the age of 16 until he was 22-ish, and ran Spice, the drug in Star Wars-- but it’s also not. It’s really bad. 

Way to take a canonically noble, hardworking, Latino character and reduce him to the most shitty, racist stereotype imaginable. I’ve already complained about him not needing a “dark” past, but this? This is somehow worse than him being, like, a bounty hunter, because it carries political implications and is just such a stock, trash stereotype that we don’t need in this world or in our fantasies. It’s ridiculous, and I refuse to acknowledge it.

Worse yet, it’s said that Poe “ran away from home” to join the pirates to “avoid responsibility” at age 16... dude, Poe has been shown in EVERY PRIOR CANONICAL APPEARANCE TO CRAVE NOTHING BUT RESPONSIBILITY. Yes, he’s a hothead, but he’s responsible! He wants to labor and take on caring for others because he’s a hardworking, compassionate, headstrong man! Ugh!

I could go off forever about this, but I’m already feeling myself grinding my teeth, and for the sake of my blood pressure and psychological wellbeing I’m not going to make myself go feral over it right now. Deep breaths, K, deep breaths...

3. In things I did like: Poe got promoted to general, and he made Finn a general alongside him. He really grew into his position, and I’m so proud to see him as General Dameron of the Resistance. He deserves it. 

4. Poe and Finn had SO many good scenes and such great chemistry. I loved seeing them bounce off each other, and their relationship made me laugh and smile and feel warm, even as everything else was falling apart. I love my boys!

5. Poe gets grossed out by bones. Canon. Love a squeamish king.

6. Oh, ugh, I just remembered that they tried to frame Poe and Rey as having an aggressive relationship with each other and I rolled my eyes. How dumb can they be? Ugh. I don’t even have the energy to try and unpack how ridiculous all that is. More deep breaths...

7. In terms of the worst thing to happen in the movie... R*ylo, like, gets shoehorned in. Honestly, looking back at all the predictions I made a few months back, I’m entirely right; everything I predicted came to pass. This included.

It was shitty and bad and nearly all the cast has spoken out against it now that their contracts with Disney aren’t as binding, and seeing it happen on the big screen was just... oh my god, it was horrifying.

It really was.

But thankfully, Kylo died, so the ship can’t really continue! Yeehaw!

8. I actually did like parts of the ending. I’ll talk about that more if anyone asks more specific questions, but right now, I’m kinda burning out because of the wide net this ask casts, so I’ll have to defer for the moment.

At any rate, it all happened exactly the way I thought it would, bleh. Like, so much shit in the movie went down exactly the way my TRoS predictions post said, it’s almost scary. 

Honestly, though, just running through all this is exhausting me; I really can’t make myself go through it all in this particular format. So, I’ll just leave this here as it is, and if anyone has any specific questions-- what I thought of specific moments, characters, scenes, etc-- send an ask! But this is all just really wide and general and burning my brain out to try and process it all again, so more specificity in future asks might help me stay more on track and not get overwhelmed trying to explain every single thing all at once. 

I have tons and tons of thoughts about it, ranging from what I loved to what I’d have done different about the whole series, but I just don’t have the psychological wherewithal to make myself write everything out in one giant, dense, indecipherable post: it’s just all too much, so I’d need to break it down into smaller, more specific questions.

This probably isn’t a super-satisfying answer, but feel free to just send specific asks and I’ll answer them, no matter how many! It just helps to have a specific line of thought to follow, so feel free to ask about each individual thing and I’ll try to answer!

Thanks!

[kookceit]

panic room

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21457270

summary:  Logan has a breakdown at the end of their Psychology class.

Logan’s eyes were downcast as they entered their Psychology class with Remus. It was hard masking anxiety. Their chest felt a bit heavy, but it wasn’t an extreme weight. Similar to just a book or two being placed on your chest, but one of the books was a nice World History textbook. Logan could still breathe, nothing was too bad so it didn’t matter.

They went and sat at their seat. The classroom wasn’t arranged in rows, rather just groups. Logan’s assigned seat that they got to choose themselves was the one right in front of the pole in the room, the back row right behind them. One of their friends, Virgil, being at the corner seat of the back row and nearby. Remus sat right next to them, but his attention was on everyone else at the table. That was okay, more than okay really. Logan didn’t really feel like talking to anyone, and really didn’t want anyone to notice they were unraveling. They looked at the desk in the corner that was to the left of the door and noticed Mr. Sanders wasn’t in that day. Instead, it was another teacher in the building, Mrs. Lorinn, meaning she was a substitute. Just great, their favorite teacher wasn’t in again , and they would have to do a stupid amount of work they would never do otherwise in the class. It was only busywork, but it was also counted for a grade so Logan had to do it. This was only giving them more anxiety.

The other day there was also a substitute, Mrs. Poinsette. The assignment was online, and the class was given laptops and the class period to complete it. The problem was Mr. Sanders messed up the links on the Ted Talks assigned, and both Ted Talks were the same one, meaning the second set of questions couldn’t be answered. It was available till the next day, but would be counted as late and would drop their grade a bit. Logan couldn’t afford anything less than a 100 in this class. The second link was given on the board, but Logan did something they regret. Instead of working on their Psychology assignment, they saw it was available till the next day and decided to do their Algebra homework instead. They didn’t know about the links being messed up, had only focused on the fact that it was ‘due’ tomorrow. Logan was informed of this once they attempted at doing their work at home, realizing that they’d need to somehow get the link to the second video. The last thing Logan wanted to do was ask others for assistance.  

Now they were sitting in the room of which they had an assignment due and haven't completed yet. It was already late, Mr. Sanders changed the due date but kept the availability, so there was nothing Logan could do there. The only thing Logan could do was complete whatever packet was being given out this period, and swiftly go home and try to find that second video. One of the questions contained a quote, and with the knowledge of it being from a Ted Talk, Logan created the plan of searching the quote accompanied with the words “Ted Talk” and hopefully finding the link. Mrs. Lorrin smiled as she passed out the case studies.

When Logan got theirs, they immediately flipped through it, trying to estimate the time it would take to complete it. They went back to the front, and started reading the symptoms and backstories, until Remus’ voice cut through.

“Hey Logan, do you know the first one?” Logan’s eyes kept firmly to the packet, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, even if it was considered rude.

Of course he would ask them. Of course. Logan was the smart one, weren’t they? They were expected to be able to understand everything as soon as they saw them, as if their mind was filled with whatever they considered intelligent. Logan never studied, and still got high grades. Logan was the smartest in the room, but was modest and denied it. Nothing more to it,  right ? It wasn’t like Logan simply learned by finding these subjects interesting and listening to the teacher, or that they had their own methods that helped them to know these things instead of the memorization of notes that all the neurotypical kids in the class did. Logan learned by rehearsing things, as if it was a speech. The repetition helped them. But nobody else knew that. It wouldn’t seem fit for the smart one to be anything but neurotypical, or at least that’s what they told themselves. It was terrifying keeping that under wraps, but they managed. 

But god, the more difficult part was when people expected them to know something they were still figuring out. Logan knew nobody meant it this way, but when they were still in the process of finding the answer and someone asks them a question regarding it, since Logan can’t give an answer they feel inadequate. They feel as if they can’t live up to the horribly high expectations of everyone else and themselves, and that they’re worthless. Worthless because they couldn’t answer that question. Worthless because they aren’t what people expect. Worthless because if they don’t live up to these expectations, they’re just a stupid, queer immigrant. The pressure took an enormous toll on Logan’s mental health, to the point where everything was skewed against them. 

Logan tried their best to keep the stutter out of their voice. “I- Still getting it. Sorry.” The fumble of words made them embarrassed, increased their need to cry, but it was better than a stutter.

“Oh, okay!” Remus said cheerfully, and turned his attention back to the other kids at the table.

That was it? Did Logan really just stress over something so  stupid ? They were losing their touch.

Focusing back on their work, they read it all over again. The lines for the answers were a bit messed up, but it was nothing they couldn’t deal with. Well, they couldn’t deal with it, but it’s okay since those papers would be gone in a little bit. The lines were distracting Logan. They kept rereading the backstory, trying to find something to work with in the symptoms, but their head was hurting so bad. When did their head start hurting? Well, it was now, and it was an issue. This headache was preventing them from thinking, the fuzziness and pain making coherent thought difficult. Logan wanted to ask for help, knowing they had to if they wanted to complete this, but not wanting to speak. They were smart, right? They would figure it out.

But the pain persisted. Logan couldn’t stand it. Everyone was talking so much. Noises, too many noises. Logan clutched their ears, and angled their arms so they could stuff their face into them. Logan knew nobody would notice as long as they kept any and all noises gone. No noises, nobody would know about this. They let tears slide down their cheeks, keeping their labored breaths quiet. Wiping them away, they went back to the task at hand. They could focus a bit better, but everyone’s voices were so loud. Logan wanted to tell them all to shut up so badly, but even they knew they couldn’t do that. The thought itself sparked too much anxiety, and they knew it was horrifyingly rude. Logan still wanted to though. 

Their eyes were still glued downward, but they knew nobody was looking at them. But what if they were? That single thought gave them too much anxiety to not simply check a little. If they were met with any eyes, they’d just sink back down and die. Solid plan. The image of everyone staring at them scaring them enough to look up and get a tiny peak.

Everyone was chatting. Nobody was looking at them. They turned to the back row, and Virgil looked up at them.

“You good?” Virgil asked, concern in his violet eyes.

Logan nodded quickly, facing back to their work. They tried to listen to what everyone else was saying, hoping they would give them clues. But when they tuned in, all they heard was comments about several different disorders and incorrect assumptions on them. Some of those disorders Logan happened to have. They kept their mouth shut, panic seeping in. Logan knew, logically, they weren’t talking about them. This was a Psychology class, and they were doing case studies,  of course  they were going to be talking about disorders. The feeling still didn’t go away. Emotions aren’t rational, after all.

Somehow, that managed to help them think clearly. They were able to tune everyone else out and focus solely on the assignment. It wasn’t difficult at all. Just some reading, and the disorder was rather obvious as well. Logan quickly jotted down the diagnosis they gave and the reasoning, but before they could get up and turn it in, Remus’ voice interjected once again.

“Oh! Could I check my answers with yours? You’re the answer key, after all.” Remus asked, joking at the end. But Logan heard that ‘joke’ too many times. Truthfully, they hated the ‘answer key’ and ‘calculator’ comments, but would never speak out against it. Even if they did, it would just be seen as them being ‘modest’ again. Logan really did hate being seen as smart. None of it was recognized as the hard work it really was, rather being thought of as ‘natural talents’.

“Sure.” Logan kept their reply terse. They really didn’t want to speak more than they had to.

Remus saw nothing wrong with that answer, quickly scanning what Logan put on the sheet and giving it back to them.

“We got the same things! Nice.” Remus giggled. Logan nodded, took Remus’ sheet, and rose out of their seat to turn in their work.

They were the first one done. While that should’ve made them feel better, they only felt relief. Perfectionism and Imposter Syndrome were awful to deal with. No matter what, they couldn’t feel satisfied. Wonderful.

They returned to their seat, but noticed that Virgil wasn’t done yet. So Logan got up, went behind him, and started filling in the answers for him.

“Oh, thanks L. You didn’t have to.” Virgil twisted his neck to get a look at Logan’s eyes, the worry from earlier still being there, but Logan already finished all the answers and returned back to their desk.

“You’re welcome.” Logan turned their attention to their thumbs, fiddling with them. 

They were trying to find some kind of distraction. Any kind of distraction. Logan looked up and saw the girl in front of them still wasn’t finished, and got up. 

“Do you require any assistance?” They asked, keeping their voice leveled. Score for Logan, they don’t seem on the verge of a breakdown. 

“Uh, yeah. Just this one, I got the others figured out.” she said. Julianna, they think her name was.

Logan scanned the case quickly, realizing it was Marianne’s from theirs and telling her, “Panic Disorder. She fears feeling anxiety at those places due to her previous situations, and anything similar to it. That’s what makes it different from an anxiety disorder.”

Julianna nodded, thanking Logan and they proceeded to go back to their desk and sit down. 

Hopefully the bell would ring soon, as they could feel panic welling up inside them. Everything felt bad. Their head may feel okay, but everything else didn’t. Logan knew they were going to cry again, but they really didn’t want to. What if someone noticed? Logan couldn’t stomach the thought of it.

Suddenly, everyone got up and Logan knew it was time to leave. They grabbed their books and pressed them up against their chest, making sure to keep their eyes on the floor and nowhere else. Everyone was still talking, still being so loud. They were talking about clocks, and time. Ha, time. Time was pretty funny. Daylight savings time was evidence in it of itself that time is a flawed man-made concept. Time existed, just not the way humans made it out to seem. Logan wanted to focus on those thoughts, something to them feel better, but then they couldn’t because someone was focusing on them instead of the conversion.

“Hey, Logan? Are you okay?” It was Patton.

Logan shook their head rapidly, before choking out a sob and slapping their head over their mouth.

“Logan, are you sure?” Patton again. His voice was filled with concern. Logan could picture the face he was probably making right now, but he couldn’t put their head up. Patton would see the tears if they did. Logan clutched their books tighter.

Logan felt obligated to reply. If they didn’t, would they figure something was wrong in their head? That they weren’t as neurotypical as everyone else thought they were? So, Logan tried to reply without sounding like they were crying.

“I’m fine.” They said with extreme difficulty. Well, so much for sounding like they weren’t crying. A sob climbed out of their mouth, the loud noise alerting Patton. Patton came and put his arm around Logan, asking what was wrong. Logan kept shaking their head, unable to move.

The bell rang, and Logan bolted out of the room. They didn’t stop running, not caring that anyone could see their tears. They made it to their locker, quickly doing the combination before someone they didn’t know squatted next to them and asked them a dreaded question.

“Are you okay honey? What’s wrong?” They was a short, black person. Logan didn’t want to assume any gender here, but they did look feminine. Their hair was so pretty, Logan loved their ponytail. But Logan couldn't tell them that right at that moment. Patton’s locker was right next to theirs, and it seemed Patton might be making his way up now. 

“I’m fine, sorry for worrying you. However, thank you for being concerned.” Logan replied, and took their things before bolting down the steps once again.

They didn’t stop running. Out of the building, fighting against the cold that numbed their hands, and off to the bus stop. Once they were home, everything would be okay. 

Everything would be okay, but they weren’t right now.

[mychemicalrant]

An Autism Reflection

I am going to do a write up of childhood and adult observations about why I think I might be on the spectrum. It’s a little TL;DR, sorry.

When I was a kid I had trouble understanding the concept of familial and friend love. My friends would say “I love you” and I’d always saw “ewww, you can’t love me!” in response. It took me many years to understand the concept of love applied to family and friends and more years still to decide whether I loved other people. I can now say that I love my dad and that is very obvious but I can’t say I love any other biological family members just because they are biologically related. When I got married, I met many people in my partner’s family that I can say I love on a personal level but I don’t feel “love” simply because I am now legally related to someone.

Love as a feeling doesn’t come naturally to me and it certainly didn’t come easily as a social concept. You are supposed to say “love” in social contexts even when you don’t feel it because love isn’t so much a feeling as it is a social handshake of sorts, I suppose. But I do think for many people love comes from a real place in them. When I was a kid the thought of claiming to feel an emotion I did not feel was utterly incomprehensible. If I seemed hurtful this may have been why. I didn’t attack others on purpose but if I seemed insensitive it came from the fact that I did not understand why we had to display affection when we didn’t feel it. I would always make the grandmother I didn’t see very often cry and I never knew why. I guess that’s why? I feel extremely uncomfortable opening gifts in front of others because I am afraid I will have to perform excitement and not be able to. I hate weddings and funerals because I honestly don’t give a shit about the emotional context but everyone expects you to put on a display of sadness or joy or whatever and I don’t even feel that, let alone want to display it.

One time I went to the dentist for a filling on a bottom tooth and he numbed the spot but found when he went to work on it that it wasn’t numbed. Some other part of my jaw had gotten numbed instead. This went on for two more shots until we finally got the right spot numbed and he told me I had crossed nerves. My emotions are the same way. Funerals and death barely seem to phase me (I cried for maybe 5 minutes when I found out my mom had died when I was ten) but I’ll genuinely cry over some random thing.

I often can’t identify my emotions at all, although I am working on this. As a Pagan I had explained this as having a closed heart chakra. As a personality enthusiast I had explained this as being an INTJ or an Enneagram 5 and therefore bad at emotions. But the more I studied these things the more I realized something still wasn’t getting answered. INTJs are stereotyped as being effective, successful, and driven people despite preferring introversion. That’s not...really me. But INTPs are stereotyped as being scattered and flexible and I need to have routines and obsess over increments of things such as time, money, or resources. I am very internally organized and this extends to the outer world as well. I get frustrated going off the plan or making changes or not being able to account for something because a new variable came up. But since discovering that I might be on the spectrum it actually feels like a puzzle piece snapping into place. My whole life makes sense, even (and especially) the things I have been made to feel ashamed about.

Having autism means you process and prioritize information differently, and for high functioning females this can be hard to identify at first. I made it through school okay. I didn’t have any significant learning difficulties except being extraordinarily bad at math (like, took pre-algebra four times from 7th grade to college bad) and having to do a Title 1 remedial reading course in elementary school. I didn’t have trouble focusing and I excelled at writing tasks. I had extreme struggles learning things I had no interest in but managed to get good enough grades anyway. I was easy enough to get along with and although I didn’t have any friends at school until 9th grade I made it by okay. (Most of my friends were male or tomboys and always 1-3 years younger than me.)

Dating, socializing, and friend-making were never easy for me but I didn’t think this indicated that I had a disability in these areas. I had always assumed I was just really bad at it? Like, I share no interests with other people and am genuinely not interested in other people. As a kid I was desperate to play with other kids but couldn’t bridge the social gap to ask and would only play with one close friend at a time when I did have friends. But as an adult I keep to myself pretty much. I didn’t really think this was an indicator of a disability or cognitive situation because I had just accepted it as a part of my life. My interests are intense, particular, and not always popular. My interests are also geared for the wrong demographic compared to what I am. People and socializing are utterly boring to me. I prefer solitary tasks. So on and so forth. It wasn’t until I hit post college that I started to realize I had a real problem, which will be its own post.

When I’m honest with myself, I feel mentally at the age of twelve. I fixate and obsess over things well below my age group. When I was in my twenties I figured, well, your twenties are like an extended teenage time, right? But then I hit thirty and realized this is when you need to start showing the world that you are an adult. Drink mimosas and don’t do it through a straw. Know what an IRA is and know how to climb the corporate ladder. Don’t fixate on t-shirts and small collectable objects. Don’t obsess over tiny objects in the shape of US states. Stop hyperfocusing on the color of everybody’s eyelashes. Care about babies and home ownership and marriage.

I’m learning some fascinating things about girls on the spectrum. A lot of girls with Asperger’s have issues with gender identity and feel out of place in a woman’s life or with female gender roles. Girls with autism have a special challenge in life, because female gender roles are socially dependent in a way that male roles aren’t. Boys are taught to be independent and girls are taught to form social groups. Right out of the gate girls are being trained to be social-minded, which in one sense means girls are essentially getting autism therapy right from birth, which may explain why girls with Asperger’s don’t display traits in the same way that boys do. But as girls grow up they tend to respond to the challenges of being autistic in different ways. A primary way that I’ve come to learn through my research is to cope by mimicking the behavior of those around them and giving the appearance of understanding and performing those roles.

However, I think there’s another coping mechanism, and it’s the one I’ve chose. I’ve coped by more or less shunning social expectations and finding myself in male dominated spaces like video games and anime, etc. Nerd spaces are safe for a reason because it allows us both to indulge in our love of fantasy and world-building and also to fixate on something that isn’t sexually or socially driven. If you think about it, neurotypical gender interests stem from sex and signalling that one is sexually available. For women, it’s beauty and fashion and displays of attractiveness. For men, it’s sports and cars and other things that signal masculinity and strength. But for people with autism sexual stuff can get lost in translation so I have chosen to ignore those roles and not perform them at all, much to the chagrin of my parents growing up.

I shave my head in the bathroom sink for convenience. I never wear makeup (primarily because I can’t stand the sensation of goopy shit on my skin but also because I see absolutely no point in it). My clothes are mostly practical and comfortable. I can only wear breathable fabrics so tight frilly blouse-type fabrics are torture and I have only worn them a handful of times in my life. I wore bras only when I had to and went without most of the time. I never thought about the role that sensory sensitivities played in my dressing decisions but they are 100 percent the reason behind all the decisions I make, second only now to my OCD intolerance of fabrics that drape and touch nearby objects as I pass. Anyway, I’m not pretty but I am practical and functional.

I may not have stated that I felt inundated by a sea of sensory overload until I realized why that is. One thing I have done to cope is to fixate. As a kid I fixated on seemingly little things like sequins or collectable items I wanted. When I fixate on acquiring something (food, objects, whatever) I can tune out other things like how I’m feeling uncomfortable and overwhelmed. I still do this and at 31 years old I fixate more or less on the same things I did as a kid. One thing of fascination to me is colors, especially objects that come in many colors. Christmas lights is my earliest example of this, but as an adult it could explain my love of crystals. All crystals are rocks but they come in many colors and I love this so much. As a kid I was obsessed with tiny colored boxes. As an adult I went to The Container Store and bought them in every color. I’m still. You guys. I love colors so much.

I use food as a stim mechanism. At restaurants I feel almost entirely overwhelmed by the fluctuating environment of people moving and spinning and crawling all around you, plates being shoved into and out of your face, servers touching you and reaching over you, lights and sounds and crap. But I never noticed I was feeling so anxious by this (or I just chalked it up to my OCD) until I realized that the only thing I can willfully focus on when at a restaurant is the food. When is the food coming when is the food coming when is the food coming when is the food coming food is here food is here eat eat eat quick get it over with so we can leave why is the check taking so long I’ll have another piece of bread etc. I find myself eating even when I don’t want to out of the compulsive and comforting motion of reaching back and forth to my mouth, chewing, and so on. I used to overeat as a kid out of boredom but now I hardly eat at all because I get distracted and forget. I didn’t think of myself as a stimmer, though. The kind of stimming where people know that’s what you’re doing because you are rocking or otherwise zoned out in some very obvious movement that doesn’t fit the social context. Because I wasn’t doing that, I didn’t realize that what I was actually doing was stimming. Bouncing my leg so furiously that people thought I was convulsing. Picking my skin for hours. Constantly having my hands at my mouth or picking at some fabric or fraying the paper label on a bottle. I am almost always stimming in some fashion or another but the stims are pretty subtle. I mean, everyone clicks pens, right? Drinking and eating are stims and I often have a coffee when I go out because the act of raising the straw to my mouth gives me a physical action to do that comforts and calms me. There’s a lot to say on this topic so I’ll just move on for now. My point is, for females with high functioning autism it isn’t always obvious by male autistic behavioral standards because we have learned many masking techniques or just took the hit and identified as nerdy or non-binary or asexual or some other label that we thought explained it. The more I dig, though, the more I am amazed at how much of me stems from this potential. It’s heavy, though. I have a cousin with low functioning autism (we didn’t use that word back then; you know which word we used) and to realize I might be on the same spectrum is something to sit with, for sure. But it’s also a profound relief to think that all of these things aren’t my fault. I drove my parents absolutely insane growing up and always felt so much shame for it. They blamed me for not performing socially appropriate behavior or performing at my age level socially and now, to think there might be a reason for it is profoundly liberating and heals me on such a deep level. I can feel the Maniac Magee knot of self-hatred and loathing and blame starting to untangle at last.It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.

[bookloversreviewer]

“Another brilliantly written winner. Do yourself a favor and pick this one up, you will not regret it.” —Kate Stewart, USA Today bestselling author

Perfectly Adequate, an all-new must-read romantic comedy from Jewel E. Ann, is available now!

Dr. Elijah Hawkins needs … something.

After his wife jumps headfirst into a midlife crisis, he’s left with his young son, Roman, and a lot of unanswered questions.

That something turns out to be a someone—Dorothy Mayhem, nursing student, patient transporter, reckless driver, and emu owner.

Dorothy studies humans, the neurotypical kind, through books and television. Then she emulates their behavioral patterns to fit in with her peers.

But nothing can prepare her for Dr. Elijah Hawkins.

Single dad.

Brilliant pediatric oncologist.

And the sexiest doctor at the hospital.

When his failed attempts at asking her out turn into a string of playdates with his son, Dorothy finds herself unexpectedly enamored with the boy and his father.

And that’s a problem, a huge one, because Elijah’s ex-wife is a famous plastic surgeon—and Dorothy’s idol.

Perfectly Adequate is a beautiful, hilarious, and heart-felt journey along the “human” spectrum.

Download your copy today or read FREE in Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2o6sJZF

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Add to GoodReads: http://bit.ly/2OWq81s

Excerpt

“You can call me Eli.”

She swallows hard. “I don’t actually think I can.”

“Why not?” I force my gaze away from her mouth.

The second our eyes meet, she averts her attention to her feet. “Because you’re half of the Hathaway-Hawkins duo.”

This is a new one to me. “I’m divorced.”

“I know. I …” She makes an attempt to look at me, but her attention shifts to my temple then maybe my ear. “I mean you’re a brilliant doctor, and Dr. Hathaway is too—so brilliant. God, she’s just phenomenal. Like there are no words. But still … you change the lives of young children. You save them. You’re what every young person entering the medical field can only dream of becoming. You’ve earned the title. I can’t call you by your name. It’s too personal. I don’t know … almost intimate.”

She has Julie on a really high pedestal. Me? Down a few pegs. Sounds about right for my life at the moment. It’s not that Julie doesn’t deserve to be on the pedestal. No matter how much I hate her, I still love her. And her skills as a pediatric plastic surgeon are unmatched. She deserves Dorothy’s admiration.

But I don’t want to talk about medicine, accolades, and saving lives. I know … I know … how terrible of me. Sorry, but I need something for myself. Something personal and maybe a little selfish.

Definitely intimate.

“I don’t need a babysitter for Roman.”

She jerks her head back, giving me her full attention, eyes squinted, gaze locked to mine. “What?”

I trap my top lip between my teeth, drowning in coconuts as my heart races, sending ample blood to all regions of my body. God … I just want—need—to kiss her.

“Oh jeez …” She shakes her head, closing her eyes for a breath. “You invited me to dinner to … flirt.” Her eyes open to their widest point.

A tiny laugh escapes me. I can’t help it. Everything about this woman feels like a rebirth. “I invited you to dinner because Roman really likes you. And I just can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done for him. You’re so generous.”

Gah! I suck at this!

What is my problem? Yes. The answer is yes! Yes, Dorothy, I invited you over to flirt, maybe even kiss. And other things …

“Oh.” She takes a step backward, stumbling a bit as the front door catches her, and more embarrassment tints her cheeks. “Well, now I feel stupid. Yes, of course you invited me here because Roman likes me. Duh. Now I just look like an idiot for assuming you wanted to flirt with me. And really, no need to thank me. My generosity is selfish. It makes me feel good to do nice things. That’s all. And really, you’ve bought me coffee and made me dinner again. It’s like I should be thanking you again. But that’s probably weird. So … I’ll just go now.”

Really, really weird shit goes through my mind as she fidgets. Dr. Hawkins is nowhere to be found. Neither is Roman’s dad. Raging-puberty-hormones Eli Hawkins invades my head—both of them really. And I just want to kiss Dorothy. That’s the PG version of my thoughts. Most of them are R-rated. Worse than the R-rating. All I can think about are the ways Dorothy and I can be generous with each other, leading to never-ending thank-you’s that don't involve stationary, replacement scrubs, superhero capes, pasta dinners, lunch boxes … or clothing.

“Should we call it even? No more thank-you’s,” I suggest.

“Okay.” She lifts her gaze, eyes going a little cross-eyed like her focus is centered on the bridge of my nose.

“Okay.” I release a slow breath, but it does very little to relax all of my body. “Can I ask your age?” I’m not sure why I’ve been so chicken about asking her age. I think it worries me that she’s too young, and I’ll feel like a dirty old man having really inappropriate thoughts about her.

“I’m thirty. Why?”

“You just look young.”

“I wear massive amounts of sunscreen.”

I nod slowly.

Just kiss her, you big chicken!

What if she doesn’t want to be kissed by me? Or flirt with me? I internally laugh at the memory of her comment and at myself for being just as awkward. Why does something so simple have to be so complicated?

“I have a forty-five-minute drive home.”

And school the next day. Where is my head?

Oh, that’s right …

“Of course. I’m sorry. I lost track of time.”

“Okay.” She smiles.

I love her okay’s. They feel like more than the average okay.

“I’ll walk you out.”

“Have you not closed all of your rings?” She holds up her wrist, signaling to her watch.

I chuckle. “All rings were closed hours ago.”

“We could track each other. Share our rings. Did you know that?”

Rings. Kisses. Trips to the on-call room for sex.

For the love of God … get your shit together, Elijah!

“Never mind. That’s weird.” She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at herself just before opening the door and scurrying ten steps ahead of me. Her pace gains momentum with the hill of my driveway.

My long strides catch up to her at the bottom of it. She looks both ways and bolts across the street to her car, clicks the locks, and opens her door.

“Goodnight!”

“Dorothy Mayhem … you’re killing me.”

She turns just before ducking into the driver’s seat.

“What do you mean?”

Resting my hands on my hips, I drop my chin in defeat and stare at my untied gray canvas shoes. “What if I did ask you to dinner tonight to … flirt?” I glance up, digging my teeth into my bottom lip on a slight cringe.

Her body remains stoic as her eyes shift from side to side, like she’s been caught on a hidden camera. “Well … then I wore the wrong outfit.” She refuses to look me in the eye.

“I think you look amazing.”

“Yes. But this is a playdate outfit. Maybe even one I’d wear to apply for a babysitter position. It’s fun, but wholesome. Practical and safe.”

I just want to spend one day in her head. Everything about her fascinates the hell out of me. The curiosity gives me such a high.

“Tell me about your flirting outfit.”

“Well …” She clears her throat, keeping her focus on the big hill leading out of my development. And of course … her cheeks are perfectly flushed as she talks to the wind. “Since Romeo was involved, I would have chosen my red dress with white stripes. It hits just below my knees, but it’s strapless. And I would have worn my blue cardigan with it and matching blue wedge sandals with straps that tie around my ankles. Flirty … but appropriate for young eyes.”

“And if Roman wouldn’t have been here tonight?” I stare at the side of her head, wondering if she’ll look at me again before driving home.

She narrows her eyes. “I would have taken off the cardigan after you invited me into your house.”

The picture she paints in my head does all kinds of wicked things to me. Why imagining her in a striped strapless dress has such a physical effect on me is a mystery. It’s not like she suggested showing up wearing nothing but high heels and a trench coat. Dorothy Mayhem possesses her own brand of seduction, and I’m completely entangled in every part of it.

“And in this scenario, would you have kissed me after I walked you to your car?”

She turns completely red. I feel certain even her toes hidden in those blue shoes have to be red. “You’re making fun of me.”

Her comment knocks me back a good ten steps, even if my body remains right next to her. Why would she say that?

About Jewel

Jewel is a free-spirited romance junkie with a quirky sense of humor.

With 10 years of flossing lectures under her belt, she took early retirement from her dental hygiene career to stay home with her three awesome boys and manage the family business.

After her best friend of nearly 30 years suggested a few books from the Contemporary Romance genre, Jewel was hooked. Devouring two and three books a week but still craving more, she decided to practice sustainable reading, AKA writing.

When she’s not donning her cape and saving the planet one tree at a time, she enjoys yoga with friends, good food with family, rock climbing with her kids, watching How I Met Your Mother reruns, and of course…heart-wrenching, tear-jerking, panty-scorching novels.

Connect with Jewel

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjeweleann/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JewelE_Ann

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorjeweleann/

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/jewel-e-ann

Stay up to date with Jewel by joining her mailing list:

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http://www.jeweleann.com

[rontra]

Hey Rontra. Sorry is this is too personal, but I was recently diagnosed with autism (high functioning) and even though it didn't tell me anything new per se, I've been trying to wrap my mind around it. Do you have any tips for getting through the transition period?

Hi there friend!Omg yeah getting th diagnosis can be super weird even if it’s not necessarily new information, I totally get what you mean lmao

Even tho it’s personal I don’t rly mind talking about it at all; just remember that this is a suuuuper individual experience and you might not relate to my thoughts on it at all–and that’s okay! I’m happy that you decided to ask for advice, but if mine doesn’t apply to you, that’s okay–and I’m sure there’s other posts out there that can add to this you might relate to more (but I’m on mobile so sadly can’t help much there djfhshs sorry). This kind of advice is hard because everyone’s so different xD ahhhhSpoilers: my tips are very mushy and sentimental ;9

But this DID get long so I’m gonna cut the post fbdbdhdhhs I’m very chatty ;v;

So for context’s sake: I was also diagnosed with autism relatively recently–at 20 years old (am 21 now). While I don’t know how old you are, I’ll assume that you’re an adult or close to it as well–which to me made the diagnosis feel really weird and time-displaced! Like I wasn’t “supposed” to be diagnosed so late, bc it’s “supposed” to be noticed in childhood and thus I’m somehow not “allowed” to relate with other autistic people (obviously, that’s not a correct line of thinking). I felt like, even though it totally makes sense and it’s def the appropriate diagnosis for me, it was weird–definitely difficult to sort of keep up and get my head around it. Everything in hindsight of my life makes 100% sense through this lens, and yet, it felt surreal. Not WRONG; but it was complex.

I think a lot of that stemmed from those two decades of suppressing the traits associated with my autism; things like downplaying or ignoring hypo- and hypersensitive sensory experiences, actively suppressing stims, and expending 90% of my day-to-day energy on just trying to slip “under the radar” in social interaction(let alone do well at it, God forbid). It wasn’t something I did out of conscious self loathing or anything like that; I actually assumed everyone grew up this way, and the world was just supposed to be a fuckin incomprehensible mess of unpleasant sounds and obscure subliminal social cues that people drop just for fun and sometimes things just swirl together into a big mess and you can’t focus and you can’t talk and this is just how the world IS. That we all grow up feeling like aliens and we’re all just pretending. That specific feeling wore off as I grew older and more prone to feeling directly isolated (so now IM the only alien), but the idea that “the world just Is Like This” stuck. It was HUGE to me when I realized that neurotypical people don’t usually relate to that mess. And, more importantly, that all this time-and-energy-consuming self-discipline was suddenly unnecessary, because those things had a reason and they had a meaning and they were mine. That’s weird. It’s good but it’s weird. To take in that those things have patterns and explanations and other people feel them too is overwhelming and beautiful and weird.

It’s weird as hell to feel like some kind of spy in a foreign country trying to blend in with a culture you don’t understand for 20 years, or some kinda alien, an animal in a cage doing tricks for a faceless crowd, only to have that moment where–it’s OKAY and things MAKE SENSE. It’s mine and it’s good and i don’t have to work so hard to be “like them” because I’m not. I can’t be.

I can’t be! Even when people call me (and you) things like “high functioning” it’s measuring my ability to be “like them”–which is something I can’t be. It’s measuring how I function compared to a neurotypical person, and it feels moot, because I’m NOT. It’s a measure of how good I am at pretending to be neurotypical. And guess what: after 20 years, I’m pretty damn good at it! :p

It makes sense, but it’s scary. Because I can finally get to know me, the autistic person–the person I’ve been subconsciously smothering for 20 years. That’s scary, and exciting, and comforting, all at once.

So after all that rambling, here’s one tip: lean into that. Hard. Indulge in something that makes you go “wow, this is pretty autistic” (whatever that might entail for YOU; I get really into obnoxiously elaborate organization systems for my hobby supplies, as one example) and just…let yourself enjoy it. Try a bunch of stim toys if you haven’t had the chance. Find a friend who has an hour or five to spare and tell them about your special interest, if you have one. Explore how you feel when you’re treating yourself to this kind of thing. Feel it all the way through. Take your time to get to know it.

I didn’t really go out and do research and look up more than I already knew–I focused way more on what I was feeling and how this new set of facts interwove with that, that it all made sense and for the first time I was in control of that and could indulge it consciously in a very pleasant way. I am more at peace than I have been in a long time because I’m expending less energy suppressing myself, while simultaneously spending more time being gentle to myself and indulging those autistic traits to bring an overall soothing. I think reviewing your own history and figuring out what makes your autism tick is super helpful in making you comfortable with it–finding what things appeal to you and utilizing those tools fully with the “armor” of your diagnosis. Before, I was often worried because “other people don’t do this” or “doing that is weird”–now, I do these things (stimming, accommodating for my sensory needs, etc) without feeling as bashful about it, because I know now that this is part of my experience with autism. I have that word, I have this diagnosis, and I can use that as my shield against those 20 years of pressure and shame. And if someone thinks my stim or my avoidance of certain touch IS weird–well, that’s their problem, lmfao. I spent 20 years suffering; I’m going to take full advantage of this new flourishing beauty.

To me, this experience isn’t about learning something new (as you said; it’s not new information)–but leaning into it and embracing what was there from the start. If you’re like me and have spent most of your life suppressing these things, indulging them may help you transition through the “whoa” into the “this is good” :p leaning into it HARD was def one of the best things I did hahahaha

another thing I did a lot was just reflection–I’ve spent a lot of time going over my own behaviors, reflecting on the past through this new lens, that kind of thing. I’ve been exploring my own mindset and how my brain works all over again, and connecting the dots to my diagnosis like some huge constellation chart, and it’s one of the most soothing things I’ve ever done. Maybe it’s because I’m big on organization :p Just kind of training myself to apply this new sexy word to it was important to me. To be able to say “oh, I do this thing because autism” or “hey I’m autistic too” and use these terms in a real way helped make the diagnosis and how it applies to me “real” to me as well.

People (neurotypical people, that is) talk to me about “acceptance” and “coming to terms with” and such–and they’re saying the right words but they don’t mean the right thing. They say it like I feel bad about autism. They’re saying it like autism is bad. It’s not. This wasn’t a difficult diagnosis to get–its not really one i struggled to cope with receiving. But they’re right that it is about acceptance, and it is about coming to terms–it’s just a far gentler thing with a different emotional starting point. I was learning from scratch how to take care of myself, with a whole new box of tools and terms to help me; it was flourishing, it was thriving. It was not a scary new disease or some threatening Autism $peaks rhetoric; it was merely understanding, and accepting, and giving myself positive things I’ve been keeping away for too many years.

Step 1 to managing my difficulties is understanding them. Step 2 is being kind.

Upon receiving this diagnosis, things may simply seem to make a lot of sense. Maybe you don’t really feel like it’s a “big deal” the way people around you seem to. It might just be that perfect moment when a puzzle piece clicks into place and it was always meant to be there. That dissonance between other people’s behavior and how you feel might be confusing too (I had this!).

Now, you probably understand things in a new light. It’s a good thing to become closer with yourself. Be nice to yourself and explore your experience of the world with a new light–you don’t necessarily have to do anything huge with that new info, but acknowledging it and naming its root and learning to use it to be kind to yourself in the future is cool. Don’t pretend like it isn’t there; name it, in your head, when you notice a trait in yourself that stems from it. Let yourself know what those things are and what they come from, and make adjustments where necessary to accommodate them. Be kind to yourself and don’t worry.

It’s good. You are good. You have always been good. Thank you.

[kitchsykitchenwitch]

TW: Religion. My personal experiences with mental health, psychiatric hospitalization, and suicidal ideation/attempts. Some mild discussion of the current political climate.

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So, this is a half-cooked essay I’ve had rattling around my head for a couple of years now, but hadn’t really found a good time to write it all out. After watching the Jesus Christ Superstar Live special today, I think now is as good a time as any to put this out in the world. Please not the aforementioned trigger warnings, and also be advised that this is probably gonna be a bit ramble-y and not the best written piece on the interwebs.

***PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS NOT A REVIEW OF THE JCS LIVE SPECIAL!***

Some background on me. I am an atheist who grew up in a Catholic family, and I struggle with C-PTSD and bipolar II disorder (which weren’t properly diagnosed until about four and two years ago, respectively), as well as chronic autoimmune and pain conditions. When I was a kid, every year during Lent, my mother (a theater junkie) would play both the soundtrack and 1973 movie of Jesus Christ Superstar. The original soundtrack has always had some sentimental value to be because of this.

A quick aside on my faith, or lack thereof. I never considered myself a very strong Catholic. Fortunately, I grew up in one the lucky few liberal Catholic families, and was always taught to think for myself and question everything. My questioning of religion first started when I was in fifth grade, and became very interested in Greek mythology, which soon expanded to Norse and Celtic myths as well. I loved the stories and fables, and it didn’t take me long to draw the parallels to Christianity and Catholicism. I began to think to myself, if these stories aren’t true, then why is Catholicism the one true way? I also struggled with prayer and forming that “personal connection to God” that my youth leaders insisted I must develop. I grew up in a turbulent, and at times, abusive home, and my pleas to find some peace were, of course, left unanswered. I struggled for years thinking that there must be something I was doing wrong, or something inherently wrong and broken about me as a human being. This added to the depression that I struggled with as an adolescent, but I kept my reservations to myself out of fear of alienating my family and friends in the Church. Eventually, I found myself sitting on the agnosticism fence, finally making the jump over to atheism about a year and a half after I graduated college. I discovered that I found more sense of worth and fulfillment in taking responsibility for my own actions and accomplishments, more agency and knowledge in the presence of evidence and facts, and far more comfort in the love of those here with me in the physical realm. For a long time, Jesus Christ Superstar and any other remnants of religious music fell off of my playlists for many years as I came to terms with my beliefs.

A couple of years ago, as I was building a Broadway playlist on Spotify, I decided to put the original soundtrack on and see how it played to me as both an adult and a critically thinking atheist.  I was expecting to experience that nostalgia that I spoke of earlier, but I was not prepared to be emotionally bowled over at the realization that this is a story of not only faith, but of struggle with mental illness. I mentioned this to my mother after my revelation, and she told me that she wasn’t surprised. I didn’t know this, and some of you may not either, but she told me that when the show first premiered, there was a lot of push-back and anger because people didn’t approve of such a raw, radical and purely human portrayal of their Messiah, preferring the calm beatific and self sacrificing demigod of their scriptures. Listening to it now after being on both the loved one of someone who is mentally ill, and being a mentally ill person myself, I found myself relating to the characters in whole new ways that felt absent before, and it completely flipped the traditional Passion story on its head for me.

I’m going to take the soundtrack (nearly) song by song and give my thoughts. The ones that are irrelevant to the overarching themes I mentioned, I will skip over. I’ll also provide YouTube links to the ones I do delve into.

Heaven on their Minds

Even though I’m an atheist, and one would think I’d relate to him more because of this, this is the only song in the show where I truly sympathize with Judas. I look at this song through the lens of watching an older family member struggle heavily with bipolar I disorder, which was left untreated for many many years. This came into stark focus for me when I reached adulthood and the two of us became much closer. He is hands down the most intelligent and one of the most empathetic people I have ever met in my life, but the flights of mania, ego and rage and the crushing depression he experiences has a major impact on everyone who loves him. I struggle with this as well to a lesser degree, and being on both sides of this coin, I really do sympathize with those who love someone with this disorder. The struggles we go through can leave us hyperfocused on ourselves, forgetting that the people who care about us are also deeply hurt and concerned for our safety and well being. Judas is begging for Jesus to take a step back and look rationally at how his (in Judas’ perception) egotistical and selfish actions are harming himself and those around him, imploring that he still admires him and cares for him as a person, but eventually ends the song in frustration as he realizes that his friend will not listen to him.

What’s The Buzz/Strange Thing Mystifying

I had two major thoughts on this song, and I’ll go through them separately.

This song is where my sympathy for Jesus begins and for Judas comes to a screeching halt. Judas proves himself to be a misogynistic prick as Mary Magdalene attempts to provide some small comfort to Jesus as he is growing more and more frustrated with his disciples. The slut shaming rubs me absolutely raw, and if I had been in that situation, I would have jumped down his throat just as Jesus did.

The second takeaway from this is that this is where I see parallels to mental illness start to take root in the show. Depression lies. Depression will tell you that nobody in your life truly cares about you, and that they will all leave you alone in the end.

“I'm amazed that men like you Can be so shallow, thick and slow There is not a man among you Who knows or cares if I come or go!”

This, obviously, leaves his friends reeling, and they beg of him, how can he possibly say that about them? He doubles down with the final lash out of “Not one, not ONE of you!” I have similarly lashed out at those who mean the most to me when in the depths of a depressive low. Thankfully, my circle understands that when I say things like that, it’s not truly me, but the monster that lurks within me that I usually keep quiet and calm in the back of my mind.

Everything’s Alright

Judas, buddy, you really lose me here. He turns from slut shaming and goes into full on neurotypically ableist fuckery. The is implication that his friend doesn’t deserve a few small comforts because there is some greater cause that must be served, and that he should suck it up because there are people who have it worse.

Jesus, in response, reminds him that there will always be people in the world who have it worse and who are suffering. This is a concept I struggled with for years. I would always minimize my pain by saying “Well, it could always be worse.” This kind of thinking just led to more self-berating, beating myself up when I couldn’t pull myself up by my bootstraps and force happiness into my chemically-misfiring brain. And here he takes another emotional dig, saying that Judas better shape the fuck up, and leaves the vague threat of suicide hanging over his head as another lashing out, which I have also done in my worst moments of pain and despair.

Mary, bless her, proves herself to be the true caring partner as she swoops back in to attempt to soothe him to sleep, wanting to provide some form of comfort to the man she loves.

This Jesus Must Die

When this essay first started taking shape in my head a couple of years ago, I wasn’t planning on including this song.

Then the election of 2016 happened.

I won’t ramble on too much on this one since it doesn’t directly tie in to the overall themes I outlined earlier, but I’d feel remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the indirect connections.

The disturbing trend of othering, tribalism, and white supremacy that has taken hold in the US can be seen in the lyrics of this song. The willingness to outright harm and even murder those who are different because of ignorant fears of having their way of life destroyed is as much a problem today as it was then. This affects all who don’t fit this mold: POC, non-Christians, women, LGBTQ+ folks, the disabled, and, you guessed it, the mentally ill. It’s chilling to see these attitudes, which these types of Christians claim to revile when speaking of the priests and pharisees in the Passion story, so thoroughly inform their worldview and morals. It makes me feel physically ill to see this happening.

Simon Zelaotes/Poor Jerusalem

Oh Simon. You are that one “friend” or family member that every mentally ill person has. The one who thinks they have all the answers. The one who gives you all kinds of unsolicited “advice” and tells you how you should think and act, because that’s how things are gonna get better for everyone else (oh and I guess you too). This isn’t one of my favorite songs, so I’m gonna end it here for this one.

The Temple

This is more regarding the second half of the song, when the lepers are demanding that Jesus heal them. This one resonated deeply with me. I am a very empathetic person, and I also have a very hard time saying no to people. I want to help as many of my friends as I can and make them happy. The problem is, I don’t always know how to turn that off, and I end up overextending myself with either physical demands or emotional labor. When Jesus cries “There’s too little of me,” I felt that on a very personal level, as I have said similar things when I take on too much. He finally breaks down and snaps, screaming at them to heal themselves. Again, I have expressed similar thoughts when I reach my limits and break.

Everything’s Alright Reprise 

I Don’t Know How to Love Him

The story now shifts the focus from the mentally ill individual to the partner/spouse/caregiver of the one who is ill. This is SO important. It’s very easy for our caregivers to stay silent and power through for our sake, while they slowly burn out trying to help us and to continue to live their lives. They tend to stay in the background, shouldering enormous tasks, and very rarely do they receive help that they badly need.

Mary does her best to calm Jesus, keeping on her smile until he falls asleep. Once her job is complete for the evening, she goes off by herself to vent her fears and frustration into the ether. She loves him, but at the same time, he deeply frightens her. That monster that lurks in us is scary, and not just for the person who is ill. It reaches out and threatens everyone that the person loves, and for those who don’t know what it’s like to have that in your head 24/7, it’s terrifying. But who does she tell? Who else could possibly understand? So she just lets her fears out to no one but herself, and at the end, collects herself and goes back to work.

Damned For All Time / Blood Money

Some of my sympathy for Judas comes back in this one, but only but so far. Being the friend who realizes that someone they care about may truly be out of control and a danger is a terrible position to be in. Do you call the police and have them involuntarily committed? Or do you keep trying to fix things yourself? It is never an easy call to make. He handled it EXTREMELY poorly though.

The Last Supper

This is where everything goes to hell and falls apart. Jesus and his friends gather together for one final meal, but his mind is already far afield with self destruction and suicidal ideation. Right off the bat, he makes throwaway comments about his friends’ apathy.

“For all you care, this wine could be my blood. For all you care, this bread could be my body.”

His own apathy launches back into anger as he spits:

“I must be mad thinking I'll be remembered - yes I must be out of my head! Look at your blank faces!

My name will mean nothing Ten minutes after I'm dead!”

The group immediately launches into rebuttals and reassurances. Judas is finally fed up with his friend taking his anger out on everyone and speaks up, telling him that he has alerted the authorities. Jesus doesn’t care and goads Judas into blowing up at him and basically telling him to stop being a dramatic asshole. This is behavior I have both witnessed in others and done myself in my angry/manic swings. You think so little of yourself that you think you have deluded your friends into thinking you are a good person, so the addled logical next step is to make them understand just how bad of a person you truly are and shove them away, violently if necessary. Judas takes the bait and flees, while the rest of the group tries to placate their friend with, what we would perceive as empty, platitudes and optimism.

Gethsemane

The similarities to this song and my own inner dialogue when I struggle with suicidal ideation are staggering to me. The exhaustion, the “Am I really this worthless?” and “Maybe the world would be better off without me” statements, looking to lay the blame on someone else, wanting someone else to do the deed for you because you don’t have the guts to do it yourself, rage at a spiritual figure that you feel either doesn’t exist or doesn’t care. That was like a swift punch to the gut. I never thought that as an atheist, I would relate so heavily to the character of Jesus, but this song drove it home for me that I really do, and that it’s not a bad thing, and that I can relate to him as a person without it having to be a religious experience.

Pilate and Christ

Short blurb for a short song. I view Pilate as the role of the medical professional who is dealing with a particularly difficult case. In this first appearance, he takes on the role of the apathetic doctor that all of us neurodivergent individuals fear we will get, someone who really takes no interest in your problems and instead kicks you to the mercy of another office or the insurance company.

Could We Start Again Please

This is another one that speaks to me on a deep, personal level.

“I've been living to see you Dying to see you but it shouldn't be like this This was unexpected, what do I do now? Could we start again please? Could we start again please? I've been hopeful so far Now for the first time I think we're going wrong Hurry up and tell me, this is all a dream Or could we start again please? Could we start again please? I think you've made your point now You've even gone a bit too far to get your message home Before it gets too frightening, we ought to call a halt So could we start again please?”

These are very similar to what my husband said after my suicide attempt. He told me that he felt like the whole thing was a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from. He told me that he was terrified, and that he wished there was a way to do a hard reset on everything. He told me that he wanted to help me, but that he didn’t know how to even begin to do that. Fortunately, with lots of therapy, we have been making it work, but that was his first experience with serious mental illness. When I was in psychiatric hospitalization, these points came up yet again, as he had never experienced this and didn’t know how to handle someone he cares so deeply about be committed and see the bad and good that goes with it. It’s all scary as fuck, and this is why our caregivers need support and love and someone to talk to as well.

Judas’ Death

Again, keeping this one short. The regret train rolls into the station as Judas realizes that maybe he made a mistake. I’ve heard fellow patients in hospitalization say this about loved ones who had them involuntarily committed. When they make the call, they think it will be a few days in the hospital and bam! You’re cured! They end up coming to the horrible realization that psychiatric hospitalization is difficult, scary, and at times, dangerous. Some people step up to the plate and help their loved ones through it, while others balk at what they’ve done and bail completely.

Trial Before Pilate

We come back to the doctor/patient metaphor with this song, this time with Pilate taking the role of the  doctor who genuinely wants to help a patient, but the combination of the patient’s complete apathy/desire for self destruction and pressures put on by outside forces (like overwork, various bureaucracies, and bullshit from insurance companies) force their hand into making the harsh call of commitment. Pilate realizes that since Jesus refuses his help and also refuses to help himself, he has to make the hard call. I have been in the position of having a doctor ask me questions to help, and I basically told them to fuck off. Doing so forced the issue of hospitalization (which, by the way, I’m not directly comparing to a death sentence, just pointing out connections that I see).

This is an inelegant collection of the thoughts and emotions that this show creates within me. I’m not really sure how to close this out, now that I’ve finally written down the comparisons and analysis that has been in my head every time I’ve listened for the last couple of years. It feels good to get it out, even if the writing doesn’t flow very well. So there you have it. How a mentally ill atheist can still find meaning and their own story in a work of entertainment based on religion.

[bittersot]

2019-06-01

Hello, my name is G̸̟̠̜͇̦̜͌̿͌͒̊͡͠h̖͈̬̫̲̆̋̈̇̌̂̕o͖͕̻̞̘̩͆̆̑̐̉̽͂̍̕ş̘̩̙̮̾̋͋̉́̌̉͘̚t̶̫̲͓̥̱̲̺͇̮͑̒̅̽̍̽̔̊̎, I am 18 years old, and I have ADHD.

When I was a child, I was a bit self centered, so to speak. It wasn't that I tried to be, I was just, a bit dense, very dense. I said what came to mind, I repeated what I heard others say without thinking much on the meaning, if it sounded nice and got stuck in my head, I'd use it, likely in the wrong way.

I was always quick to jump into conversations and share my experiences, not noticing if I cut someone off, but ai got pissed if someone interrupted me. Most people probably thought me annoying, but not everyone would say self-centered, because I didn't just talk about myself, I talked about EVERYTHING that excited me, and as a child, 99% of the world excited me. I knew tons about reptiles and dinosaurs, nature, animals and running around were some of the best things I knew. I was hungry for new information, I liked to do stuff physically, and I liked to read about different topics as well. I did it due to excitement however, and could rarely take a stance on topics, I only got mad if something inconvenienced me directly(notice that this includes something bad happening to my friends, because that meant we likely couldn't play as usually etc). I was not good with understanding people, I took things literally when most of my peers had moved further into "social skills", and I remember not knowing what a Bra was nor why I shouldn't take of my shirt when it was hot in the classroom. I don't know how they found out you shouldn't do that, but while I did get laughs and sighs directed at me, it didn't bother me, because that info didn't excite me. I was at the top of my grade, I got the most advanced books in literature, though since they had less pictures than in the others books, I didn't see it as a win. Taking in info en masse but without looking at it socially, I was marked as a bit of a weird kid, but people found me cool nonetheless. I prefered to hang out with boys, I enjoyed running around in the forest behind the school with sticks pretending we were agents or soldiers. I was friends with girls, for most of the time, however, some I lost contact with because I didn't "get" them. They weren't bad, a bit mean sometimes, but I just didn't get the fun in talking about fashion and "popular" things, perhaps because you needed to follow a certain trend, perhaps because we sat still a lot, but I wasn't drawn to them. I did have two other close girl friends, they were more into fantasy like me, but due to a certain cat related mishap, we split for a while, during which I went to hang out with the boys, and that stuck for a while.

I was also very, very, stubborn, to my own detriment. I would disagree over the most stupid things cause they didnt please me at the current moment, such as refusing to eat the meatloaf because it didn't look good, and getting the rest of my daycare class to do the same. It wasn't untul everyone was standing around waiting for naptime that the caretakers got me to take a bite, and I liked it, thought it tasted good. Don't know why I so passionately decided to shit on meatloaf on that day, but I got the rest of the class in on it, and stuck with it even when I was the only one left. During handball practice before a match with another group one time, I refused to shoot at the goal if it wasn't with "my ball", I think I remember thinking "Why am I doing this, why am I do stubborn?" In the middle of my protest, perhaps because my teammates were complaining about me loudly, but I didn't give up immediately, I couldn't.

I was also impulsive. God, so impulsive. I threw a stuffed animal at a teacher ones cause she was making a joke while dragging out the time until she'd give us results on a certain topic. I felt really embarrassed. The few seconds before it happened, I remember imagining it like a cartoony scene when everyone complained and things were thrown around in the background, so I launched away my plushie at her. I tended to hit and punch my friends as I grew older, in middle school I would jump some of my friends as a way of greeting them. I didnt think it through, it just felt right, I enjoyed the body contact and their complaints, somewhat, because they would still smile afterwards and hang out with me.

It was easy to make me cry. It didn't happen often, because I mostly thought about myself and other remarks didn't land unless I was engaged in a discussion of a topic of massive interest to me, or if something inconvenienced me. I lost a toy ones, a blue bakugan snake ball, and I cried. I cried and I cried and ALL the other girls in the class had to gather to comfort me as I lied on a couch unconsolable.

In high-school, it was the first time I was in a class where a majority of students were teens I didn't know previously. And these teens were not used to my antics. Whereas in my two previous schools, most kids were somewhat cool with me because "I had always been that way", in this new class, when I didn't stick to social rules or hit someone in a friendly manner(or so I thought) it was called out and focused on. Half because it was bad(and it was, I was impulsive and my hits likely hurt) but I feel like a few of them revelled in how weird I was, didn't try to bully me, but I remember hearing whispers behind my back, and the girls would laugh and treat me as a pet when I hung out with them.

I split during 7th grade. I don't remember exactly when, but the anxiety which had been planted somewhere around the end of middle school took root and thanks to RSD, it got a boost so bad it shut me down completely. I shut up, kept my hands to myself, my thoughts to myself, and my feelings to myself(what happened was not DiD, if DiD is like driving in a car and other personalities being able to take over the wheel, then what happend to me was that I previously always wore clothes for sunny days, and now after a terrible snowstorm put on winter clothes, and since they seemed to work, I refused to take them off, even subconciously). Old me did show up in the cracks of my new self when talking to the one friend I still had from my past, but due to reasons (which I have reason to believe was gaslighting, but then again we were kids, I think my RSD just made it worse, plus when she talked about me to others without asking me if she could (Young me found her to be way too loud and open about herself, no surprise considering what I was doing but I don't think she did anything bad)) I pushed her away through ignoring her more and more, in some way I thought I "set her free" to be with people as open and honest as herself, and we split paths when high school ended, not keeping up contact.

My new self, was very introspective, I had to be, everyone had focused on being able to define their identity for a while now, whereas I hadn't thought much of anything outside of the best thing in the moment. I looked inside myself, and found stress, fear, and emotional turmoil. I started to avoid classes and presentation where I was put on display for a lot of people, and taken to a therapist when my parents started to notice how I stayed home unusually often. This me became very good at observing and picking out faults in myself and others, not actual faults, but faults as society saw them. Despite my young self being dense, I wasn't immune to the information I picked up. I remember being told as a woman that I should focus on being hot and pleasant to men, and now when I didn't have my whims to take my focus off the subject, the misogyny around me caught up and that hurdle of imperfection sent me deeper into depression. Never wear your heart on your sleeve, I told myself, over and over, it was far too risky. I grew very depressed, having a hard time leaving bed most days, falling asleep as soon as I got home. I remember spending endless nights crying and crying. What kept me alive was Pokémon, Vocaloid, and the two friend groups I was blessed to have, while I fell out of touch with one due to getting to attached to a certain person and then realizing they thought of me as, something, I was left with the other group. Other group split, which didn't bother me because I was still with the person who motivated me the most, and she went into animation. I followed her, and thanks to her, I decided to go to an animation school. Rest is documented elsewhere, but after around my first year, I realized I didn't want to be an animator, but I am glad I took this route, because I am good with said subjects, and it felt like a chance to think what I truly want to do, and I have now decided I want to go into psychology. My troubles are far from over, my old self has broken free and is showing up more and more, not irl, I'm too afraid of that still, but I hope I can tame her, and be myself again, but with the experience and capabilities of thinking things through and enjoy reading the charades most people seem to put up.

What do I know? I quit sports(handball) in middle school cause the rest of the team were "normal" girls, neurotypical who liked to talk and joke about things those types of girls do(I hate that I can't express this any better), but I kept on dancing for a while, and I loved it, I still do. Dancing and working out till I can't move are some of the best ways to make me feel good, to get rid of that excess energy, especially dancing, but due to feeling that everyone was so much better than me, and my inability to leave the house on my own when I technically could just not move from my comfort zone, play more games and not go, I ended up quitting that as well. I wish to dance, workout, and do yoga again, preferably with someone, so the motivation is greater, if someone else is there, I can't just bail.

But, I'm 18 now, and due to reasons, I have been told I am not to trust, and I believe that, not because they are right, but because of what they have said, along with depression, my memory has started to deteriorate. I've always had a hard time remembering unless it is something I am extremely excited about, thus I have let a lot of people down when it comes to birthdays and arriving on time, so I wanted to write down what I can remember as of now, when I left my childhood barely a month ago. Everything will be gone soon, but I do believe that what I have written here isn't made up, this is who I am, and who I was.

Final note, I had an unspeakable amount of imaginary friends throughout my entire childhood, human, humanoid, animalistic and monsterous, Pokémon and other fantasy beings. I still have many imaginary friends, I wouldn't be able to keep together without them, thanks to them I developed the Superiority Complex which got me out of the deepest parts of my depression, and now they are helping me drop said complex. It is silly, but due to, everything, I can't trust anyone outside of myself. I still can't, but I wish to change that, I need to.

[yasminmariestubbings1-blog]

‘The brighter side of the spectrum’

By Yasmin Stubbings, 22 year old Autistic female.

When searching for traits, characteristics, or symptoms of Autism (and the rest of the autism spectrum, to an extent) online, the first, and the majority of information you’ll probably find focuses on the negative aspects, at least as perceived by the “official sources” and “leading spectrum experts”. It begins to sound like a broken record, “lack of empathy” “rigidity” “cognitive inflexibility” “clumsiness” “obsessions” “fixations” “developmental disability” “socially awkward” “inappropriate” “impairments” “lack of eye contact” “emotional issues” “lack of communication”.

If neurotypical “normal” people see us that way and refuses to recognize or acknowledge our positive traits and sometimes, beyond genius aspects and treats us according to their exclusively negative stereotype (if they have even formed an impression of us beyond the “Rain Man” stereotype at all), then no wonder that people on the spectrum experience higher rates of depression and self-harm. As I browse the web in search of some affirmative information about people on the spectrum (including myself) it becomes clear to me that internet sources and these “experts” tend to focus more so on the negative side of Autism, rather than embracing the beauty of Autistic people.

If only I could count the amount of times I have had people say to me “well you don’t look Autistic” “I thought Autistic people were not able to talk” “do you have some sort of career plan considering Autistics are not employable people” it’s these stereo typical remarks that make people like myself, afraid of embracing that we are Autistic. It’s a shame that we are categorised in such a way that it makes it hard for us to open up to people, because we are apprehensive of others reactions and prejudice opinions.

It’s time to shatter the stigma associated with Autism spectrum disorder.

I’ve decided to dedicate my blog to the “positive” aspects that are associated with ASD. The beautiful characteristics and traits that most people on the spectrum have; the traits that you never read much about on the internet (or listen in conversation) because of the stereo type that is linked.

Here are some positive characteristics that we carry and that work in our favour. The traits that shine much brighter than the negative, traits that we should embrace rather than be self conscious of. We really do have a unique, distinctive and individual view of the world.

. Memory

We usually have an excellent long term memory, although many people on the spectrum suffer with short term memory problems (including myself) The average person can remember memories from when they were 4-6 years old. Many of us on the spectrum can remember much further back than that. These memories are usually very distinctive memories that some people wouldn’t remember. Even when we learn certain things that do not intrigue us, we will remember that information accurately and are able to relay the subject fluently as if we spent years learning that information, when actually, we heard it once. Genius huh?

For me, my brain experts in remembering patterns and things in order. I have found myself often remembering people who I have seen before in cars, simply by remembering their car registration number that I have seen once. Or I can remember (with ease) peoples phone numbers by reading them out once or twice. I can even remember my time table from secondary school with the exact times of what lessons I had on what day. (We’re going back 8 years ago now) for me, and most people on the spectrum; it is usually the attention to detail things that I remember the most; the parculiar features that other people will not even pay attention to. But above anything else, when I tell people what I have just wrote, they will look at me like I’m strange instead of telling me that it is highly intelligent.

. Intelligence

Most of us Autistics are highly intelligent. Some of us even hovering at genius level. (Einstein was a suspected Autistic, as well as many other highly intelligent people) Our IQs can be very high and some of us usually end up in careers in which we are most intelligent in. In my case (Psychology) and other science subjects, which I understand more so than I understand anything else. If we want to know about a subject, we won’t just research the main aspects, we will research and learn about every minor detail until we are experts in that field. This comes with fixation and obsessions (a typical autistic trait) but in my opinion; this works incredibly in our favour.

There is also a clear correlation between Autism and Savant syndrome which has been scientifically proven. "Autistic savant" refers to individuals with autism who have extraordinary skills not exhibited by most persons. Historically, individuals with these exceptional skills were called “idiot savants”. There have been many cases where some individuals on the spectrum have no verbal communication, but are able to play instruments without being taught, or have no concept with amounts of money or numbers that are associated with money; but are able to calculate large sums of multiplications without using a calculator. The most classic and well known case of this is the “Rain man” a film based on Kim Peek, an Autistic man who showed little cognitive ability with almost no verbal communication, but in other ways, genius.

For me, I have no emotional intelligence or social intelligence. I don’t have the capacity to be aware, in control and express how I am feeling regarding emotions; which often results in me feeling confused, over whelmed and lack of empathy towards other people because I simply can’t process my feelings. In such situations, I often experience sensory overload (Sensory overload occurs when one or more of the body's senses experiences over-stimulation from the environment, resulting in the brain not being able to process the information that is happening. When this happens, that person will often feel like everything around them is amplified. Noises will sound louder and more irritating, certain lighting can often make the individuals eyes sensitive and even certain tastes and smells will irritate that person. Everything can seem almost blurred and hard for the individual to understand) I also feel like I am unable to express my feelings verbally and only have those thoughts in my head.

I also more than often misinterpret what people say to me, I don’t sense body language, sarcasm, (certain jokes) tones of voice when people are speaking, when people are upset and even what people’s intentions with me are. I even went to the extent of asking my boyfriend what he meant when he first asked to take me out, my reply to him was “as friends?” I couldn’t work out why he wanted to take ME out, this resulted in him feeling a little insulted (laughing face) of course he wanted to take me out as more than friends, I’m a catch! (Another laughing face) but through consistent research, understanding and support my parter now understands why I asked this at the beginning. (Someone every Autistic person needs)

Despite these difficulties, I excel in academic work. Everything I read, I absorb like a sponge; I am able to remember precisely (word for word) what I have read in order to help me in my academic work. My memory recal outweighs my difficulties entirely, and this is evident within my work.

. Honesty

We’re genuine, straightforward, and honest. No hidden agenda here. No double-meaning, either. No alter-ego, split-personality, or two-faced attitude. We don’t play head games or manipulate people. What you see is what you get. What we say is what we mean. In a nutshell, we don’t beat around the bush!

In my case, I’m sometimes a little too honest than I realise. If you ask me if I like your new hair cut, (and I genuinely think it looks like your mum cut it with a knife and fork) I will tell you! This often gets me into trouble as I don’t mean it spitefully, I just don’t have a filter with my thoughts. But hey! At least I’m honest!

. Detailed orientated

We pay exquisite attention to detail. As I have mentioned previously in my case, the way our brains work is to recognize patterns and connect dots in ways that other people may not perceive. We can make lightning-quick analogies between two seemingly vastly different concepts. We also don’t do things halfway; if we’re going to do it, we’ll do it, and if we’re not, then we won’t. If we decide (or realize) that something is worth our time, we’re going to give it our full effort. “Just good enough” is usually not “good enough” for us.

. Unique perspectives

Although people on the spectrum struggle with seeing the big picture, they are gifted with the ability to focus intensely on details of things and situations. Because of this, they may able to come up with creative solutions to problems. Because people with Autism have the ability to focus long and hard on their areas of interest, they can make great academic and scientific strides in their areas of interest. As I mentioned previously, I excel in my area of interest, Psychology; which has given me great insight and understanding of the way my unique and quirky brain works.

. Little or no prejudice

Perhaps because we know what it is like to be different or “not normal” people on the spectrum tend to be more accepting of others. They are more focused on people’s behavior, As opposed to hierarchies or social position. We can teach the rest of the world a lot about accepting people for who they are, rather than pre-judging others.

.Passionate

Many people on the spectrum are truly passionate about the things, ideas, and people in their lives. We spend our time, energy, and imagination necessary to truly master our area of interest, and we stick with it even when it's difficult and frustrating. We really are the meaning of the word passionate!

[anautisticdragon-blog]

"As an autistic spectrum person of the alt-right I'm overjoyed to see a president who'd support the use of excessive electroshock -- to the tune of tens of times a day -- on very young children to help cure their evil autism, because I'm fucking crazy." -- No Autistic Person Ever

Is the Alt-Right a Neurotypical Spectrum Construct? (Follow-Up)

The alt-right hates autism as it unless they're trying to sociopathically weaponise it they see all 'SJWs' as 'autistic idiots.' As an autistic person who's interacted with the oppressively NT people on the alt-right, I know this. It's just difficult to show this to others who might not recognise it. For me, it was simple. As I've pointed out in prior posts, you can see dualistic thinking (which exhibits itself as a preference for one tribe over another, abstractly) in all facets of NT life. It really, truly is obvious to me. Why do NT people like to scream at sports, whereas autistic people don't? It's obvious. The neurotypical spectrum is riddled with binary aboslutes wherever you look, it's hard to miss. You can see it in sports, right? The neurotypical loves sports because it's 'me tribe' versus 'their tribe.' The autistic person detests sports as they're not a fan of that kind of competition, they find it almost impossible to be invested as they would have to be able to experience this tribe-focused system of binary absolutes in order to actually enjoy sports. And they can't. Sorry, autistic people, I don't enjoy telling you you can't do anything but I can't, either. I find this manner of tribe-oriented dualistic thinking to be contrary to how my mind functions on every level. I'll look at a crowd of people from various ethnicities and I'll think 'us,' for obvious reasons. They're all human, right? They're sapient. They have the capacity to think, after all. Even the neurotypicals, as much as they get on my nerves, I classify as 'us.' I think the neurotypical spectrum has a problem that requires awareness, but that's no different than how I think that there needs to be more awareness of autism so that autistic children don't have to live through a tortured youth. I think that non-neurotypical spectrum parents would be just as bad for a neurotypical child as, say, neurotypical spectrum parents would be for the children of the autistic spectrum. At least, without education. The reason I think this is because an autistic parent would rail against their NT child's obsession with binary absolutes, they might even punish them for it as the autistic mind sees this as a toxic outlook. I feel that there are brains on other spectrums out there as well who would treat an NT child similarly because this binary thinking issue is certainly a neurotypical spectrum problem. Anyway, the neurotypical mind would look at a crowd of people, they would separate out the white people who're like them and think 'us,' then they would see the other ethnicities present and think 'them.' They might then spot those who're male, like they are, and think 'us,' then see the women present and classify anyone of that gender as 'them.' This is how the neurotypical mind will always work, right? I think there's lots of evidence out there to support this position. I'd invite you to look up the oxytocin experiment. It's often labelled as 'the dark side of the love hormone.' What happens here is that neurotypicals are given either a dose of oxytocin or a placebo. They're tasked with a moral dilemma, there are two trains heading at the same speed and trajectory down two tracks toward two targets, the two targets have been bound to the tracks and there's only enough time to rescue one. The first target is a single adult of the neurotypical's own ethnicity and gender. The second target is an entire group of people, this includes children, men, and women of various ethnicities. Those given a placebo might choose either target, but those who were given oxytocin would always, invariably choose the one person of their own ethnicity. Apparently, in the neurotypical mind, oxytocin is dangerous. Here's the interesting thing, though: It causes a degree of NT-like behaviour in autistic people, it's just nowhere near as pronounced. Another interesting thing to note is that studies have shown that if measuring levels of oxytocin in plasma and in the brain, it's markedly lower in those on the autistic spectrum. What happens when you introduce oxytocin is that they'll begin thinking in a somewhat binary way, this is actually desirable to those of the NT spectrum as they believe that this is the 'correct' way for a mind to function. This is why oxytocin has been suggested as a 'cure' for certain aspects of how autism functions as tribal-oriented binary thinking is desirable to NTs. I think that part of the reason that the neurotypical spectrum mind operates on binary simplisms is due to a lack of neurons, the autistic mind has a larger number of neurons after pruning. You can look this one up. This is why one barbaric NT-suggested 'cure' for autism is to trigger aggressive neural pruning to destroy those 'unnecessary' extra neurons and bring the autistic mind in line with the more simplistic thinking of NTs. This is an incredibly dangerous way to think, but not uncommon amongst neurotypical spectrum thinkers who've classified autistic individuals as 'them' and thus not deserving of the same ethics and basic human rights as a neurotypical person is. This ability to classify a group as 'them' is a worrying factor of the neurotypical spectrum as it allows them to 'shortcut' their empathy. If they don't view a person as of their own tribe, they can justify atrocities happening to that person. This explains much of human history and things that have been not only done, but the excuses that have been made to justify those actions to various out-groups, be they the disabled, minority ethnicities, women, et cetera. It's an evolutionary factor that the neurotypical spectrum never left behind. It's everything to do with scarcity, you see. The NT mind tries to protect what resources it has for its own tribe, so the NT mind is always scrabbling to create tribes because that's how such a mind parses reality. It has to know which groups deserve resources and which... don't. I can't put it any nicer than that. When resources were more scarce tribes had to make such calls, it was necessary to 'demonise' other tribes and outsiders so that empathy wouldn't compel neurotypical tribes to share their resources. This sharing of resources would come at the expense of their own and survival instinct is contrary to this. So the neurotypical mind decides that it must separate everything into tribal groups so that it can decide which groups are deserving of empathy (and thus which it would be okay to share resources with), and which groups are not deserving of empathy. Sociopathy is simply an extreme of this where the sociopathic mind considers only itself as the relevant tribe, that only itself deserves resources and therefore no one else on earth is deserving of empathy. A sociopathy has empathy for themself, after all. This is why a sociopath will feel sorry for themself if they're called out for their behaviour but they won't feel guilty. They'll feel that way as they can experience empathy for their self, but not for any others. This is simply a more extreme version of the problem that plagues the neurotypical mindset which creates the absolute binary systems of tribe-oriented perception. How autistic people will differ is that we cannot switch our empathy off, we have no out-groups. This is why, conversely, the autistic person appears to have far more empathy. The truth is closer to saying that we have broader empathy as we don't separate everyone into groups. The autistic spectrum has realised that the contemporary world doesn't need a tribal-oriented focus because resources aren't that scarce any more, and as such it's perfectly acceptable to feel empathy for everyone. I know there are other spectrums out there that offer this benefit as well. I believe that the spectrum classified as Williams syndrome experiences this self-same approach to empathy. So this isn't a binary thing in and of itself. It is very specifically a neurotypical spectrum issue, it's a disordered way of thinking that arsies from the neurotypical brain. The NT will look at other countries and be willing to excuse the horrors their own country is committing there becuase whichever country theirs is invading is the 'out-group,' which disables empathy for that invaded country. Those who aren't on the NT spectrum will still feel empathy for the invaded country and sick about the horrors committed. So let's wrap this up. Why does the alt-right seem to be an NT construct? It's honestly quite simple when you think about it. The leader they wished to put in power over America is a man who's not only known for excessively problematic binary thinking, but who has a toxic view of autism as a sickness that should be 'cured.' I'm sorry, but there's absolutely no way a large group of autistic persons would elect someone intent to do them harm. We've endured plenty enough suffering at the behest of toxic ideologies already, why would we encourage perspectives that are harmful to us further? This is why the alt-right could never be an autistic construct. They clearly wanted Trump out of their tribe-oriented binary thinking, and of the groups that the alt-right sees as an 'out-group' not deserving of empathy? Autism is one. From this perspective, there's no way that the alt-right could be anything other than a neurotypical spectrum movement. I know that people love to claim that the alt-right is autistic out of cognitive dissonance, as they don't want that ugliness to be a part of their 'in-group' (tsk tsk tsk), but it's simply not true. There is absolutely no way a large group of autistic people would lobby and manipulate (we're terrible at manipulating anyway) people into voting for a man who would rather see us 'cured.' We'd want someone to stop the 'cures,' to shut down places like the Judge Rotenberg Center (look it up, it's a nightmare that neurotypicals ignore thanks to autistic people being an 'out-group,' hooray). We would never, not in a million years, want someone like Trump as the president. That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. That would be like claiming that the Nazi movement was created by the Jewish people. And if you don't recognise how patently ridiculous that is then I'd have to say you're experiencing some fairly strong cognitive dissonance as an NT person who simply doesn't want to own up to how tribe-oriented binary thinking can create something like the alt-right. Am I wrong? Can you give me a better argument than this for why the alt-right isn't neurotypical? I'd love to hear it. As I said, you'd have to prove to me that this is a scenario similar to Jews wanting a Nazi movement to have me truly believe that the alt-right is even remotely anything but neurotypical.