Qwertic
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Feeling different
For as long as I can remember, I've felt like I don't quite fit in. There's always been this nagging sense that I'm a bit different from those around me. It's not just in one aspect, but in the very fabric of my being - the way I think, the way I perceive the world, and the way I process emotions.
This feeling of otherness has been a constant companion throughout my life. It's manifested in countless misunderstandings, struggles to connect with peers, and periods of intense isolation. The loneliness that comes with feeling different can be overwhelming at times. There's this deep-seated need to belong, to be understood, to find your tribe.
In my attempts to fit in, I often found myself trying to adapt, to change who I was at my core. I'd mimic behaviors, suppress my true thoughts and feelings, all in an effort to be more "normal". But each time I did this, I felt like I was moving further away from my authentic self.
As I entered adulthood, I realized I had spent so much time trying to be someone else that I had lost touch with who I truly was. It was a sobering realization, but also the beginning of a new chapter in my life.
Finding out
The journey to understanding myself better began in therapy. It was during these sessions that the possibility of neurodivergence first came up. We explored various aspects of my experiences and behaviors, and I took some standardized assessments.
The results were illuminating - I was diagnosed with ADHD and Autism. Initially, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. There was a name for what I had been experiencing all these years. It wasn't just in my head; there was a neurological basis for why I felt so different.
But as with any significant revelation, this diagnosis came with its own set of challenges. On one hand, it provided a framework for understanding myself better. On the other, I found myself at risk of using it as a crutch, justifying behaviors rather than working on personal growth.
I delved deep into research about neurodivergence, almost obsessively at times. I started to see everything through this new lens, relearning how to navigate the world with this new understanding of myself. While enlightening, this process was also incredibly draining. As a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP), managing my energy became more crucial than ever.
The neurodivergent community became a source of comfort and understanding. Here were people who shared similar experiences, who understood the unique challenges I faced. But as I immersed myself in this world, I noticed a tendency to create an "us vs. them" mentality - neurodivergent vs. neurotypical. While this dichotomy can be useful in some contexts, I realized it could also be limiting and potentially harmful if taken to extremes.
Getting out
Recognizing the potential pitfalls of staying too deeply entrenched in any one identity or community, I made the decision to broaden my horizons. It wasn't an easy choice - it meant leaving the comfort of my job, taking time off to reassess my life, and pushing myself out of my comfort zone.
I traveled, met new people from diverse backgrounds, and formed friendships that challenged my perspectives. Each new experience and interaction helped me understand myself better in relation to the wider world.
Therapy continued to be a valuable tool in this process. It provided a safe space to unpack my experiences and emotions, helping me to accept and embrace all aspects of myself - neurodivergent traits included.
But the most significant changes came from my own efforts. I made a conscious decision to face my fears head-on, to be true to myself regardless of how others might perceive me. It was scary and often uncomfortable, but it was also incredibly liberating.
Meditation became an essential practice in my journey. It helped me stay grounded in the present moment, to observe my thoughts and feelings without judgment. Through consistent practice, I've found it to be an invaluable tool for self-discovery and emotional regulation.
The present
Today, I stand at a point where I feel more comfortable in my own skin than ever before. I understand myself better, accept my quirks and challenges, and appreciate the unique perspective my neurodivergent brain offers.
That's not to say everything is perfect. I'm still learning, still growing, still challenging myself every day. There are still moments of doubt, of feeling out of place. But now, instead of these feelings overwhelming me, I see them as opportunities for further growth and self-discovery.
I've learned that true acceptance comes from within. It's not about fitting into a predefined box - whether that's "neurotypical" or "neurodivergent" - but about creating your own space in the world.
My journey has taught me the importance of balance. While labels and diagnoses can be helpful tools for understanding ourselves and accessing support, they shouldn't become limitations. We are all complex, multifaceted individuals, and our neurodiversity is just one part of who we are.
As I look to the future, I'm filled with a sense of curiosity and excitement. I know there's still so much to learn about myself and the world around me. But now, instead of fearing the unknown, I embrace it. Every day is an opportunity to grow, to connect, to be authentically me.
To anyone on a similar journey of self-discovery, whether neurodivergent or not, I want to say this: Embrace your uniqueness. Challenge your fears. Be kind to yourself. And remember, understanding and accepting yourself is a lifelong journey - enjoy the ride.