Tag Archives: Autism

It’s Not Me. It’s You, Part 2

Eleven years ago I wrote my first blog post about anger. That was a tough one to write about because I felt so ashamed of my anger. That I had it at all. That I couldn’t control it. That it didn’t make any sense. And I was angry that when I tried to get support, whatever people said wasn’t helpful.

I didn’t say specifically in the post what my friends said, but since the same thing is happening right now, I’m guessing it was something like, stop being angry. You’re making me uncomfortable. Go over there somewhere so I don’t have to feel it.

I’m not one to attack someone. But if you attack me by telling me something like I don’t know what I’m talking about because I’m just a psychologist and you’re a physician, you should start running now.

Because this is what my dad told me when I became a psychologist. Stuff like, because you’re just a sorry ass psychologist instead of an M.D., you can’t even afford a Mercedes Benz. Because that’s what’s important in life.

He has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), Bipolar Disorder, trauma, and Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). Ironically, the TBI is because he was trying to save his Mercedes Benz when it was rolling down a hill backwards and he jumped in to hit the brakes.

These conditions are all examples of Autism. Or Neurodiversity. Or as I like to call it, good ol’ neurospiciness.

Neurospicy people become very easily dysregulated and have a very difficult time knowing what to do to self-soothe. Because they have no idea what they are feeling or what’s triggering them.

Recently I’ve been told 3 times by 3 different physicians that I don’t know what I’m talking about because I am a psychologist and not an M.D. At least that’s how I heard it. But it’s certainly possible that it was something like that and I got triggered and then became dysregulated. Because it was traumatic, hearing that over and over again.

Anyhoo, it inspired me to look up stats on ChatGPT related to clinical psychologists and physicians. Did you know that the percentage of people who say they want to be M.D.s and succeed in doing so is only 6%? So physicians are also neurospicy, but on the opposite end of the spectrum, toward the brilliant end.

Being brilliant is technically “abnormal” too, based on statistical infrequency. But since we value brilliance, we don’t call it a disorder. Disorders are just for things that people do that we don’t like.

It can all get kind of political, really. So I prefer not to pathologize anyone. I tell my clients that we are all just human beings, being imperfect, feeling all the feelings on the spectrum of humanity, doing the best we can trying to figure out how to do this very hard thing called life.

I couldn’t find an equivalent stat for licensed clinical psychologists, but the closest one was that only 7% of the people who apply to research-based clinical psychology Ph.D. programs are accepted. However, you still have to defend your dissertation and pass the licensure exam. So 5%, maybe? Also neurospicy individuals.

People with NPD like my dad are too ashamed to admit to any vulnerable feelings, especially hurt and shame, so they project them onto other people. It’s not me! It’s you! And then they get angry and want to beat it out of you.

When one of my brothers was learning his multiplication tables, my dad was inexplicably enraged that our younger brother, who later turned out to be a genius (also neurospicy), could learn them faster than he could. So my dad told my multiplication-deficient brother that if he didn’t learn them by the time he got home, he would be in trouble. Because there’s nothing like the fear of punishment to enhance someone’s capacity to learn.

Not surprisingly, he couldn’t learn them in the next few hours. So my dad yelled at him, which I could only hear from the other room, but it was enough to make me cry and remember to this day. Then he took him into the bedroom and beat him, which was far worse than whatever I could hear.

When we were young adults, my dad was reflecting on this incident, perhaps out of guilt, and his excuse was that he was afraid that our brother might have a mental disability. Because when our mom was pregnant, she and 2 other female residents in medicine got the measles or something, and the 2 other mothers had children with cognitive disabilities.

Decades later, my dad tells me in a rare conversation of vulnerability and honesty that he was teased for being stupid and “retarded” because he couldn’t read. Which was because he had dyslexia, but that term probably didn’t exist back then. His dad beat him and screamed at him so loudly that all of the neighbors could here it because in the Philippines they don’t have windows.

My therapist thinks that he thought if it were his genes that made my brother have difficulty learning, that would make it his fault. I never really understood why couples argue about whose side of the family this “problem” comes from. It’s not like you get to choose your genes. Or your family, for that matter.

When you don’t want to identify with the aggressor, you think, I’m just never going to get angry. I’m going to be this semi-human stoic superhero! So instead, their anger goes underground. Their drill sergeant and inner critic tell them to “toughen up,” “pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” and carry on, as mentioned in the blog post written by a previous client.

Women also have to suppress their anger because it’s frowned upon in women. Just look at what happened to Elphaba. So instead you try to be a people pleaser and blame yourself for everything. Which is ideal for narcissists.

I think it would be much better if we empowered each other by telling people what they’re good at rather than making people feel bad for not being what you want them to be. But it takes more effort to empower than it does to judge.

But trying not to get angry doesn’t work. You may say you don’t feel it, but it’s coming out, anyway, in ways that you don’t even know about. That’s the kind of denial in passivity. Your anger is hidden from you, but you feel very hurt and undeserving.

I had 3 men angry at me yesterday. The first one actually thanked me when I explained to him that I would rather him tell me that he’s hurt so that I could apologize right away. I told him that anger and hurt go together. That often people prefer to identify with one but not the other, so the other one goes underground. So in reality, we’re hurt and angry at the same time. So he and I are good.

But I was so paranoid after he told me that I hurt him that I sent a flurry of texts, checking to see if I offended anyone, apologizing to everyone just in case.

My partner blamed me for repeating what he said because that’s not what he meant to say and I should have known what he meant before he took 20 minutes to explain it and why are we still talking about this! I’m just going to leave.

So I was like, well, OK, but…can I give you your Christmas gifts since we may never see each other again?

But he called to check on me tonight. So that’s something. He has ADHD so he’s neurospicy.

With my brother, I initiated the conversation because of the aforementioned paranoia. I apologized for being passive-aggressive and saying mean things that he doesn’t deserve to hear. I’m just going to own up to my anger and be honest so that I stop making snide comments.

It turns out he was waaaaayyyy angrier at me and has been holding a grudge against me for something that happened over 4 years ago. Because I didn’t know he wanted me to help him put my kitchen table together. Because he didn’t ask me to. I should have known without him having to say it. I was just weaponizing my incompetence to waste his time, which I clearly thought was less valuable than mine. So APOLOGY NOT ACCEPTED!

Whoa!

Please, people, if you’re feeling hurt or angry, just tell the person. You’re not benefiting anyone by trying not to feel. If he had just said, come help me so that I can show you how to read instructions for furniture that comes from China that are on one page with no words, and the parts come in bags that don’t correspond to the numbers, and the “instructions” are arrows, I would have said, good idea!

By the way, I found this out right before I had to lead a meditation. I was honest about it and said hey, I’m dysregulated and I may cry, but I’m glad we’re meditating together.

Then I got my massage, but it was essentially a therapy session, because I had to pull myself together somehow since I was about to see my partner, my brother, and his wife. I wanted to give her a good tip for just listening and giving me a hug because it was essentially a therapy session with a light massage for self-soothing and connection. Which was exactly what I needed in that moment.

But then, when she tried to run my card, for the fifth time in the past month, some hacker associated with Al-Qaeda had tried to use both my cards that day. If you have an Apple credit card, they will automatically reject even the smallest suspicious activity and change your number on the spot. So I used that card.

But for the other one, I had to call my credit card company again and have them re-issue a credit card again. But you can’t call them back from the number from which they called you. You have to pull out your credit card, look at the back, and call the number for U.S. cardholders. And they ask you really stupid questions about stuff that shows up on their side but not yours and ask you if you can see it, even though they just told you that you can’t. As well as things like, did you make a purchase a week an a half ago for $6 using Apple Pay? And then they say, OK we’ll send this out to you in a few days, so I hope you have another card or money in your account!

I did this credit card thing prior to getting ready for our dinner party. Because I was crying and hysterical, my partner asked me if I was sure I wanted to do this. My drill sergeant was like, yes, you do! You have to make this work! So at first I said yes. And then I thought, no. I don’t have to do this if I don’t want to. I can do whatever I want. So I called them to say I wasn’t up to it and to apologize.

Then I talked to my sister-in-law, since my brother was obviously furious with me, and I told her I had to cancel dinner. I was so upset I couldn’t do it for them. I had grand plans of using fancy china. I had put my Christmas decorations up. I was going to move my space heater to wherever they were sitting because the last time they were at my house they were cold. Because I’m always sweating since everything is triggering my fight/flight response. My partner had already been cooking for over an hour. And because they asked him to prepare a meal rather than hosting us, for weeks he had been planning out the meal, trying to make it just right, and trying to pick something they would like.

I hadn’t even gotten through the list of all the horrible things that had happened to me that day so far. But she thought this was a good time to tell me that I’m out of control, too loud, and too argumentative. And that I should seek psychiatric help. And go back on the meds that made me get surgery for GERD, throw up on the court, give up tennis, sing horribly, and wreck my vocal cords.

She’s a pediatrician. My brother, too. I asked her some differential diagnosis questions about mania, and she admitted that she didn’t know the criteria. But she still knows better than I do about what I need.

Apparently, they had been talking to my best friend behind my back and they all decided that this is what’s best for me. Because over Thanksgiving, when I got into an argument with my brother because he told me I didn’t know what I was talking about because I was a psychologist. And I hadn’t talked to my best friend in over 2 weeks. So none of them had any idea about the horrible things that had happened before this horrible day, because they don’t bother to check on me, even though they were obviously concerned. Unless this counted as their check-in.

I was blindsided and confused. Had they been holding on to their feelings about the argument since Thanksgiving? Is that why she had to tell me at that very moment, no matter how poorly timed it was? Was my apology to my brother interpreted as anger and argumentativeness? Was that the last straw? Had their plan been to come over and ambush me during dinner?

That added the most horrible thing to my list of horrible things that day.

By then, I was so dysregulated that my partner was confused by what they could have said to make me so upset. Seeing me in that state caused him to became dysregulated. Because it reminded him of what it was like when his family argued and he just wanted to make it all stop. So we argued for several painful hours, unable to connect and enjoy each other’s company, no matter how hard we tried. And even though we hadn’t seen each other for weeks and he is leaving for home to celebrate the holidays with his family tomorrow.

And I never even got to eat dinner.

Still, I advocated for myself on the phone. I addressed every issue that she brought up one by one. I told her that I checked in with every person to ask them if they were bothered by my behavior, and they said no, it didn’t bother them. They think I’m great. I told her I’ll talk to my therapist, and if she thinks I should talk to my psychiatrist, I will. I have an appointment with her this week.

But she said that wasn’t good enough. Because I guess they’re the ones who were bothered by my behavior. She trusts the psychiatrist who we share, who is an M.D., and has known me for about 4 years and sees me every 6 months, more than she trusts my therapist, who is a clinical psychologist that I have seen routinely for the past 26 years.

Neither of them are in therapy because they don’t have any problems. She even went out of her way to tell me they have a good marriage. Which was also confusing, since I had know idea what that had to do with me needing to see a psychiatrist.

Those are 2 of the 3 physicians I referenced earlier.

The other interaction with a physician happened during a gathering that was specifically organized so that all my friends in Roanoke could see me. I did something similar with him that I did with my brother over Thanksgiving. I gave him evidence that he’s neurodivergent on the brilliant end after an impromptu question to ChatGPT about how many people who start off pre-med graduate pre-med. Because even though I didn’t know the answer, I know from 19 years of working in a counseling center that the answer is, not many. ChatGPT said 16%. And I said it in the exact same way–loudly, in an argumentative manner, and angrily. Because he said dismissively, you psychologists think everyone is neurodivergent.

I also told him that our current administration and the majority of Americans are clearly not neurodivergent, based on the current laws and lawsuits.

His reaction was to tell me that everyone loved me and he wanted to give me a big kiss. Which was also confusing and disorienting, but not dysregulating. I also texted his wife the next day, who had hosted the party for me, to ask her if I was out of line. Because even being really happy to see your friends can be dysregulating. She said not at all. I love your energy. You’re so smart and I learn so much from listening to you. And I love having someone to scream at the TV with me during a UVA game.

To “support me,” my best friend and partner told me not to be mad that they’re mad that I’m mad because they really care about me. To me, that sounded a lot more like supporting them.

So after a whole day of crying yesterday because nobody wanted to listen to me or believe me, and everyone projected their anger onto me–except my friend who thanked me for the insight–I decided to take a self-care day today, talk to my therapist, and take a break by distancing myself from my stress, like my family suggested. And they are the only stress I am dealing with at the moment.

Oh wait. The other stressor is that I can’t sleep. Which is activating my fight or flight response. So I am running on adrenaline. So I’m actually looking forward to talking to my psychiatrist now.

Serendipitously, at this very moment, I’m listening to a continuing education presentation on when psychologists should make referrals, which is very basic and boring (except for the slide on new meds). She just said that when someone isn’t sleeping, they’re in crisis.

And I’m writing a blog post about it. Because that’s what I did in that last anger post and I said it helped. And I guess this one is helping, too, by giving me something else to focus on. Because taking deep dives into something is also a form of self-soothing for someone who is obsessive-compulsive (also neurospicy).

Don’t Give Up Hope. Change is Always Possible!

Photo by Yelena from Pexels on Pexels.com

My life has changed since I read the book Divergent Mind. And since I’ve been reading Unmasking Autism, which the same Autistic client in a Ph.D. program recommended, my brain is on fire. I can feel the neurons making connections. I need less sleep. I can juggle multiple projects at the same time. I am using more of my skills, and they keep getting better. Every session has become exponentially more effective. I am in love with my life, honored and excited to fulfill God’s plan for me. Which is to free people from the prison of having to mask in a neurotypical world.

And, eventually, to learn how to fly. Like Elphaba and Neo–my two favorite neurodivergent characters.

And I am still regulated, (i.e., practicing self-care, self-soothing).

I thanked my client in session yesterday. I told her that all this change has been made possible because of her. Because she was the one teaching me about what Autism looks like in adult women, I felt I had to do my due diligence and take a deep dive into neurodivergence myself. Since I’m the one who is supposed to be helping her. But every good therapist knows that clients sometimes teach you as much, if not more, than you teach them.

I told her she changed my life for the better and clarified my purpose. So spreading this message of neurodiversity must be part of her purpose, too, since she is very effective at it.

She was pretty happy to hear this.

My client Dee, who is co-writing the book Normal in Training, has also been changed for the better by the realization that she is neurodivergent. She is also writing a blog about how this realization has helped her thrive. She’s 76 years old. As we were talking about the book a few days ago, we both mentioned that we felt smarter, if that’s possible. And it is. I’ll explain why at the end of this post.

While I was reading Unmasking Autism, the author, Devon Brice, was talking about how some of the most serious psychiatric disorders like Bipolar Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) are often misdiagnosed because those people are neurodivergent, and the symptoms overlap. Even though he is not a clinical psychologist, he is an Autistic social psychologist and therefore knows how to take a deep dive into any topic. And everything he said about the differences between these disorders and Autism is true.

I was one of those people who was misdianosed. Because the first psychiatrist I ever saw, who I have frequently wrote about because he was so lacking in empathy, diagnosed me with bipolar II even though I was in a depressive episode when he met me and he had never actually seen me in a hypomanic episode. (And never did see me in one.) Just because my dad and one of my brothers are Bipolar I. (Now it’s actually 2 brothers, but I didn’t realize that when I was 40.)

Luckily, with the help of my therapist encouraging me to advocate for myself with my current psychiatrist, who kept putting me on antipsychotics that were turning me into a zombie, in our next appointment my psychiatrist asked me if I thought I was bipolar. Although I told her repeatedly that I didn’t think I was in the past, I simply said no. And she finally agreed and stopped the antipsychotics and put me on a different antidepressant. And I started getting better right away. After a year and a half of intense suffering.

And I still haven’t had a hypomanic episode. Even though she’s seen me in my current state. Which, admittedly, looks pretty similar to hypomania if you don’t know all of the ways people can be neurodivergent.

And since she was brave enough to reconsider my diagnosis, as soon as I read the part in Unmasking Autism about Bipolar Disorder and BPD being misdiagnosed, I left her a message in the portal saying I think she should read these 2 books so that she can make a differential diagnosis between these conditions and Autism.

To be honest, I didn’t expect much because psychiatrists are at the top of the mental health hierarchy. So why would she take advice from a lowly clinical psychologist? Even if I do know my stuff. And her stuff, too, actually.

But she did listen to me. She ordered the books right away. I know because she left me a message saying she’d look into it. And then later left me another message asking me if she had the authors correct.

So now I think even more highly of her for being humble enough to know she doesn’t know but is willing to learn.

In addition to being able to know what your strengths and weaknesses are once you realize you’re neurodivergent, there is another reason why change is possible at any age, regardless of how many times you have failed, or how many diagnoses you have. It’s called neuroplasticity.

Neuroplasticity means that the brain is capable of being rewired. So even if you are neurodivergent, which means you were born with your brain wired differently, or your brain has changed due to head trauma or aging, it is still possible to rewire your brain so that you can function in a neurotypical world.

It takes a lot of work, time, and commitment, but most of the steps are accessible to you. They are:

  1. Self-care
    • adequate sleep
    • healthy diet
    • movement
    • connection
    • pleasurable activities
    • a spiritual practice that focuses on connection with yourself, others, and something larger than yourself— like nature, the universe, or God (not necessarily religion, in which messages can be twisted by humans for evil purposes)
  2. Self-soothing
    • something that engages all 5 senses
      • sight: e.g., something pretty
      • smell: e.g., aromatherapy
      • sound: e.g., a playlist
      • touch: e.g., a hug
      • taste: e.g., a treat
    • mantras: e.g., I can do hard things. I want to practice gratitude (vs. I should be grateful).
    • gadgets: e.g., fidget spinners, stuffed animals, weighted blankets, heating pads, squishmallows
  3. Mindfulness
  4. Self-compassion
  5. Therapy (but make sure you feel a connection with them while choosing one)
  6. Medication (especially if you’re constantly in fight/flight/freeze/fake (mask), have low energy, sleep all the time, stop eating, feel apathetic, and/or have meltdowns or uncontrollable anger)
  7. Creativity (because we forget how to play, like children)
  8. Meaning and purpose (so we know that we have the power to make things happen)
  9. Surrounding yourself with people who exemplify the kind of person you want to be (perhaps starting with your therapist)

This is possible at any time, at any age, and at every reset. You just have to commit to it. Do these things, and you will first feel mentally stable. And then you will thrive. I promise.

This is How I Roll

One of the differences between tennis and pickleball is that in tennis you get to be all matchy-matchy. Some women in pickleball wear cute outfits, but they don’t feel the need to match from head to toe and buy multiple pairs of shoes. In tennis, even the professional men on tour like Alcaraz and Sinner match, right down to their socks and shoes.

One of my neurospicy characteristics is my OCD, so I always made everything match down to my underwear, even before I started playing tennis competitively in my early 30’s. I am a little less stringent about matching now, since I work from home and all people can see is the very top of my blouse. And I hate folding clothes so they’re just piled in a huge jumble on my guest bed. And I don’t want to spend time sorting through the pile to make sure I can find a pair of underwear that’s going to match my bra and go with my outfit.

But now that I’ve started playing tennis again, my desire to match everything has come back with a vengeance. Last Monday, I decided to wear everything in 2 shades of purple for pickleball–dark purple (my favorite) and a lighter, lavender color. I debated on whether I wanted to go so far as to get my matching purple jacket and my matching purple gloves. Would people think this is too much? A bit over the top?

Ever since I have embraced my neurodivergence, I have changed. Before, I was training to be normal, like Neo being trained by Morpheus in The Matrix, since he was reborn into the real world. I didn’t trust myself. Do I really have power? Can I really be myself? Am I really all that? Neo asks himself this question over and over again, seeking reassurance from Trinity, the Oracle, and Morpheus. The Oracle tells Neo that he’s not ready. That he’s waiting for something. Morpheus says that he needs to believe. He can only show him the path, but Neo has to walk it.

In the end, there are 2 things that help Neo realize that he’s the One. First, he believes that he can save Morpheus and risks his life doing so. Second, Trinity tells him that the Oracle told her that she would fall in love with the One, and she loves Neo, so he can’t be dead. He needs to get back up and fight. So he does. And then, suddenly, he can read the code, and he destroys the Agents effortlessly.

If you haven’t watched the Matrix, I’m sorry I spoiled it for you. But in my defense, it came out in 1999. And if you haven’t watched it yet, what are you waiting for?! This is one of the greatest movies of all time! They just made two references to it in the musical The Book of Mormons, which my family and I watched yesterday. That’s how relevant it is!

But I digress.

Now that I understand what neurodivergence means, which is that some people’s brains are wired differently, I know what my superpower is. I can feel people’s neurodivergence. I have to think about their particular skills, recalling pervious sessions with them, including details they mentioned but we never focused on. The recognition of their neurodivergence, however, is instantaneous.

When I explain to people what their superpowers are, they begin to thrive almost immediately, knowing deep down that what I’ve seen is true. Just like Morpheus knew that Neo was the One.

By the time we have our next session, they have already come up with new ways to self-soothe when they become distressed. This is the biggest problem that neurospicy people have–the neurotypical world traumatizes them on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. But once you know how to self-regulate, you no longer have to be depressed, anxious, or have a meltdown for extended periods of time. You can do whatever you need to do to self-regulate.

And then you can thrive. Because they know themselves better than I do, once they’ve been shown how to read the code, they fly. Just like Neo. And they, too, become the Ones.

What does all this have to do with me dressing up in 2 shades of purple from head to toe, including my underwear, socks, and outerwear, you ask? Well, I no longer care what other people think of me. I’m going to do whatever makes me happy. And if you think this picture of me is too matchy-matchy, too bad. Because from now on, this is how I roll.

And this is what my bed of clothes looks like. And I still have one more load to do. Which I just put in the washing machine.

Guess What? I’m Neurodivergent!

I see a lot of women diagnosed with ADHD in adulthood because they had managed to compensate and succeed with considerable effort, despite having the disorder. It took a while for adults with ADHD to be noticed at all, since the stereotype of ADHD is the boy who can’t sit still in his seat and runs to the window when an ambulance passes by. But it’s even more difficult to diagnose in women because they usually don’t have the hyperactive symptoms that lead to recklessness, impulsivity, and sensation-seeking.

Now in the literature the same phenomenon is happening with people on the autism spectrum. In fact, Autism, ADHD, and Bipolar Disorder are all a part of a larger category called neurodivergence. If that word calls to mind the movie or novel Divergent, it’s actually kind of fitting. People who were different in some way were isolated and seen as a potential danger or threat to society. Not so different from what many people think now.

What’s strange, though, is that many of these women who show traits of being on the spectrum want to be formally diagnosed with Autism. I would explain to them that it wouldn’t really benefit them now because they are adults, and they no longer get accommodations, IEP’s, early intervention programs, and other resources that neurodivergent children can take advantage of. But after reading Divergent Mind, now I do. They wanted to know that their experiences are a known entity with a label and that other people share their sensitivities.

Because I have so many of these clients, I decided to read the book Divergent Mind. And it literally blew my mind. Like, I could feel the neurons in my brain firing, making connections between bits of information I have gathered throughout my life. It was like the equivalent of runner’s high, but a kind of intellectual high that you get when you have a Eureka moment. Or like Neo in the Matrix when he could finally read the code.

Nerenberg describes neurodivergence as simply cognitive differences rather than mental disorders. And there are lots of characteristics of neurodivergence that aren’t considered abnormal but make it difficult for people to navigate the world, nonetheless. Often they are diagnosed with depression or anxiety, because living in a neurotypical world sucks the life out of them. Or they are in a constant hypervigilant state.

The geniuses I went to high school with (you know who you are) are also neurodivergent. But since it’s not a bad thing to be brilliant, no one includes them in this category.

I kind of figured my whole family was neurodivergent, because half of them have bipolar disorder and the other half have anxiety. Some of them have both. I have known for some time that I am a highly sensitive person (HSP) because I read The Highly Sensitive Person decades ago.

In particular, I have mirror synesthesia. I can’t watch horror films because when someone’s arm gets cut off with a chainsaw, it hurts my arm. And I don’t like reading or watching anything that depicts the Holocaust in great detail, because their pain overwhelms me.

I also have a sensory processing disorder (SPD). My brother once told me I had supersonic smell. I don’t like the tickers on ESPN because I get distracted by them and stop watching the game. I don’t like hugs. I’m constantly adjusting the volume on the TV because music makes it louder.

I have insensitivities in proprioception, which means I have difficulty judging my body in space. Consequently, I have bruises all over my arms and legs and have no idea where they came from. Or perhaps because of my sensitivities I don’t have enough bandwidth to calculate my dimensions in space.

I have the same problem with interoception, which is why hunger and depression feel the same to me. And anxiety and having to pee feel the same. I tighten all my muscles when I’m concentrating even if those muscles aren’t needed when I’m playing a song with one finger on Duolingo.

None of these things are necessarily disorders. In fact, Nerenberg refers to them as potential superpowers—IF someone can learn what their sensitives are and learn how to self-sooth when they feel overwhelmed.

Medication and therapy can be helpful, but another possible resource that I didn’t know about is occupational therapy (OT). An occupational therapist can help you identify what your sensitivities are and develop specific coping strategies so that you don’t become overwhelmed and shut down, melt down, or stay in fight/flight/freeze.

After I found this out, I told all of my clients about this resource. Even clients who have stopped seeing me, perhaps because I couldn’t help them with their sensitivities. And I have to say, because I now recognize what my clients’ sensitivities are, or at least recognize that they become dysregulated because of some sensitivity, I feel like the knowledge itself has also become a superpower.

As a result, the mindfulness book that I told you I was going to write is going to specifically address people on the spectrum. Because mindfulness is about being more aware of what’s going on inside you and around you. While everyone can benefit from mindfulness, perhaps people who are on the spectrum who don’t want medication and/or therapy can read this book and learn how to develop tools on their own that can help them thrive.

So stay tuned! Reserve your copy today!

Just kidding. It’s going to take a while.

But definitely check out Divergent Mind!