On normality, and silence

I don’t want to be told I’m normal. I want to be acknowledged as abnormal, and I want people to make allowances for my abnormality to help me.

M and R have a habit of chiding me when I complain about Those Damned Neurotypicals. No-one is truly neurotypical! they say. All minds are on a spectrum! There is no normal! I’m unsure whether this is intended to make me feel better or whether it is just a passionate defense of their worldview, but I find it incredibly irritating. While it is true that there is no completely normal brain, there are typical brains, average brains that work very like the Normal Brain our society was and is designed for. Mine is not one of those.

I panic when I have to make a phone call. I use a truly egregious amount of energy processing noise and linguistic information. Sometimes I cry when I hear muffled voices or a vacuum cleaner. I don’t understand how to care about other humans, much less how to talk to them. I can’t usually remember what I did or who I was a few hours ago. I have to run out of a room if someone is peeling an orange or chewing spearmint gum. During interviews I stutter, make long awkward pauses, and omit important information. I sometimes want to kill myself because the future looks difficult, terrifying, and bleak. I am not a person who meshes well with American culture, and because of this there are a lot of things I am simply not able to do, like make friends, go to parties, and occasionally absolutely any of my work. I am disabled because of things that should not be disabilities. But because they are, sometimes I hate myself.

This is not a useful post. I am not proposing a solution, except the solution that I always propose (wholesale overhaul of American culture, the abolition of capitalism, speakers to be outlawed in favor of headphones, et c). I suppose I’m trying to articulate what bothers me about M and R’s arguments, which I am not usually able to do while they are making said arguments. There is an insidious cultural whispering that says, you’re faking it. You’re making it up for attention. You should be stronger and get over it. Be quiet. Be quiet. Be quiet.

Usually I am quiet, because people would probably be even more unsettled by the shape of my mind than they are by my words and actions, and might never speak to me again. But by god I am going to complain on my little-used private blog. Neurotypicals are awful and inconsiderate and I wish I felt that asking them to change their behavior to make my life easier would have any result. Down with neurotypicals. They’re just the worst.

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