We're All On the Spectrum

    I walked nervously into my continuing education class- Abnormal Psychology.  My first university class in over 20 years-gulp.  Upon entering I felt myself relax.   I knew I was in for  treat.  She caught my eye right away, the proff?!    She was this stunning blond haired goddess with black thick-rimmed glasses sliding down her nose, sitting Buddha style on one of the front desks. 

  “Welcome, Welcome” She exclaimed.  

She pulled out a little black book and opened it up.  The DSM- Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, (Not sure which edition). Of course none of us were even aware that this manual existed.

She began like this, “ Raise your hand if you’ve ever felt like this at some point in your life.”

She went on to list the symptoms of depressive disorder, anxiety disorders and phobias, attention deficit disorder, stress related disorders and many many more.  Sneaky woman- she read the symptoms without the definitive labels and in all honesty, every single person in our class raised their hand throughout one description or another.

     

   When she was finished with her little experiment she went on to say that a psychiatrist has the power to diagnose these ‘disorders’ and we could all potentially be placed in psych wards. Yay?….

   Ironically, I thought of all the shrinks I had known, OK not that many, a couple personally and a couple briefly professionally and can I just say…they seemed more crazy- or shall I say quirky, than any of my other friends…and they had this kind of power? yikes!!!

       Last year I called my boyfriend autistic- ok I was mad at him and he was not my boyfriend at the time…but I was certain he might have signs of Asperger’s.  He came over to help me when I was sick one night. I asked him if he’d like a bowl of this delicious chicken soup I had made (really my way of saying hey- hang for a bit).  He had already eaten and would not stay and soup with me (and also told me I looked really, really, REALLY tired-ugh, thanks).   Knowing him so much better now, I understand that it can be challenging for him at times to move spontaneously. This has been a difficult difference for us to navigate because that is pretty much the way I move- I leap before I look- well that’s a lie- I do look but somehow when I get something happening in this brain of mine- I have an incredible drive to “make it so.”

     One of my favourite people  hears voices, and yet she is one the kindest and sanest friends I know.  She is someone whom I can share deep creative thoughts with and she gets it- she is so bright, I adore sharing ideas with her.  

    

    Normal folk…who are they??

   A most interesting novel was written by Paolo Coelho, titled Veronica Decides To Die.  It’s about a young woman who has decided her life is much too predictable and pre-set so she attempts to commit suicide, fails and lands up in a mental hospital.   The tone of the story is fascinating as the author explores, ‘who’s really crazy’, them or us?

    What an interesting thought.

Who is crazier, people inside a psych ward….walking around filterless, or us on the outside- who have learned to assimilate- project the face others want to see, in essence we have been socialized- whatever that means.

   I remember parts of my socialization;

-Be kind to everyone- even if you feel uncomfortable around them…(including the carpenter working in our basement who dropped quarters down his pants and asked me to find them when I was 6.  I knew it was weird but he told me it was a fun game). 

-Speak when you are spoken to- (Children are sub-human)

-Don’t act out or act too ‘crazy’- or you will be punished.

-Eat your peas or you will sit at the table until you do…(I still hate peas to this day)

     I won’t go on.  To me, socialization seems to be more about control.  Fitting in and being liked, being like others so you don’t embarrass your family?  Staying in jobs we hate, with partners we’re no longer in love with because we have learned, ‘that is what you do’,without questioning why? 

  I feel this would be enough to make anyone crazy.

Life is a complicated and wonderful journey- one that we all struggle through at different points- undoubtedly, some more than others.

    I have another favourite author named Gabor Mate.  He described once how in certain native cultures when someone is suffering mentally, people dance around with this person- so he does not feel alone.  What a beautiful concept.

    It seems our culture is infected with a disease called judgment.  Society has created a stigma around mental disorders- as if those who are able to hide their dysfunction are better than those who can’t.  But are they really?  Is it better to hide our deepest stress and distress and push it down into our bodies and then have to deal with cancer or other medical (acceptable) ailments?

   Who’s really crazy! There’s that question again.

I have heard, read, and believe, that compassion is the cure on every level.  We need to have compassion for ourselves when we are feeling less than whole and compassion for others who are struggling in any given moment.  We need to explore our own shadow- that which we repress, or have disowned as we shun those who might show the exact behaviours we have been shamed for.

     This is such a deep-seeded problem.  Generation after generation- we have been taught how we must behave, what is right, what is wrong. We have followed belief systems set into motion long before we were meer cells in our mother’s belly- and we don’t question, we just follow until…

   Until we have a breakdown, become depressed, until we become addicted to substances that gradually ruin our health, until our anxieties become unmanageable…until…

   We have to start questioning our beliefs- are they really ours?  Do they make sense for us?  We have to begin honouring our true feelings, or at least acknowledging them.  We have to understand our inherent need to control, to fit in, and all the emotions that happen to us when we don’t feel in control or as if we fit in.

  We have to go on our own journey- take the risk of being ourself, take the risk of following our hearts and exploring our dreams…

    And maybe we can begin to do this before our bodies or minds break down.

   And most importantly, maybe we can allow our children, no encourage our children- to do what they love, and follow their hearts, to accept them just as they are, to allow them to explore their own beliefs and not blindly follow ours.

  This life is a journey, that is for sure and there will always be chaos before the pieces fit in to place.   It’s like when you do a massive cleaning- everything has to be pulled out of place so that we can find a better way. We have to dismantle our old belief systems.

    Let the journey begin with us dancing along with those who are in the struggle.

   With love

Sharron