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posted Wed Apr 7 21:10:09 UTC 2021
Writing is something I do out of necessity.
Necessity is a concept in logic that I like. It's about what we must do, what we can't refrain from doing, and it can't be applied to anything that's not needed.
If we did and kept to the necessary we would prioritize wellbeing over luxury, care over consumerism, agency over control.
When writing, the necessity is what remains after we are done editing.
Concepts are nodes I orbit for a long time, weaving my thoughts.
㊊
concepts
are nodes of this orbit
for a long time
weaving
thoughts are pierced
by long, long lines
----------------❥-----_/‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾‾↘
∞
\___________
⍀_______________________________
I have a lot of trouble masking that I'm carefree and comfortable.
I learned the value of staying near that anchor. But it can be exhausting. Inside I may be spinning in paranoia or just giving superficial answers because I'm in sensory overload and barely understanding sentences since adding the process of masking on top of standing in place and receiving the stimuli is a lot.
What's worse is that asking for accommodation can just make you into a target. You may also get directed to a place of shame or guilt for needing support.
The list below was written as a way to map out the ways someone can be singled out for having a divergent style of communication, especially in a political context.
If you are neurodivergent or socially anxious yourself the next two sections may sound repetitive and have little purpose. Be aware they can reinforce a place of negative identification. The latter sections are more poetic and affirming.
"Common sense", knowing how much to talk, keeping the gloom in check, all of those are not impossible but certainly awkward places for me to stay at.
Take this list of examples. I can see some traits that can be harmful to the person having them, and some others that are considered "different" more out of external judgements. From the own person's perspective they might even be necessary.
Thinking about situations where someone who is neurodivergent or otherwise has a certain experience with social anxiety may deal with being criticized, pressured or called out, there is nuance I think is worth sharing.
This is not because anyone should be "excused", as that benefits nobody, but because these characteristics can be used as attack vectors, specially if we are also diverse in other ways and thus attract multiple different gazes upon our actions:
I used the word 'prejudice' here not as a way to wash the examples of meaning but because in my experience I've seen this happen with multiple, often overlapping motives such as misogyny, transmisogyny, racism, fatphobia, ableism, heterossexism and exorsexism.
My point in enumerating these is that if a person is already being targeted with stigmatization by another group harboring prejudice against them, anything will be seen as an opportunity for harassment.
This can further spiral out of control if you add the notion of "apologism", where standing by such nuance is seen as defending oppression. It may not involve an oppressive attitude being called out at all, but someone can be seen as "suspicious" just because they don't present normative participation and social conformity with the rules and expectations.
These rules can create a punitivistic atmosphere that the socially divergent and/or anxious may end up avoiding while others won't even notice, seeing it as a proper stance that is needed to "keep everyone accountable" or even taking pleasure in enforcing it.
Take introductions for instance. You register for something, you hear or read other people's introductions, you either come up with something original or base your own introduction on other people's, and that's done. But what comes after? How do you actually participate? Communication and its expectations, not actions, tasks, tend to define that. Non-communication here, as a first impression, is defining.
Aside from places where the tasks are predetermined and there is a "leading figure" or process that is evident — and which tends to be regulated by sociability — social interaction is almost always what mediates the events of life.
So a lot of people, sometimes most people, will introduce themselves and then never participate again and just disappear into the background or from the whole scene. And this becomes "normal", "the way it is".
Groups, communities, are usually about keeping a certain atmosphere of inclusion, participation, without personalism and any one person trying to be at the center and making themselves more important than the whole.
But that can also create a center-periphery situation where some people become leaders and others just never access a place of acknowledgement. They are just written-off as shy, lacking, lazy, as not making effort.
While it's true that some people in fact only care about themselves and about being complimented and validated all the time, a lot of people who are not used to being at the center of social situations can be misread that way.
I'm speaking of my own experience being a neurodivergent and socially anxious person, and from being with others in situations where we had to support ourselves. I write in collective terms not as universal descriptors, to speak about anyone else's experience.
To me writing is also meant as a tool and a weapon of self-defense, not only as a personal account that wouldn't be as meaningful. Venting is not very meaningful to me.
If you are with other neurodivergent and/or socially anxious peers, you can support each other by not allowing these mechanisms of exclusion to define what sociability looks like, what spaces you can inhabit and what knowledge you create and share to think about yourselves and the world.
I struggle to always state I communicate differently. It bothers me that I have to warn others that I do so. It shouldn't be necessary. And the effects are unpredictable.
The outer circle is a place where vulnerability is heightened. We who inhabit such a place must be ready to resist. It's not a place of exclusion, because every center must have a periphery. It's also not a space of confinement. We aren't limited from the center, from crossing or inhabiting it.
Also, I don't mean that at the center of normative sociability a safe space is formed, because that certainly is not true. It's just more visible, there's more movement, more information and stimuli. That doesn't make it safer.
you should too know
not to be sorry
for having a hard time loving
we were all taught the same
the same lies about being sane
you too should know
self-pity and woe
are good fuel to go
into the fire
they will burn up
and we'll be warmed
the more we have
the warmer
🔥
The place I feel joy is the place of awkward.
I want to reclaim such a place, and place joy all around it.
The place I feel joy is one where I don't feel like I need to communicate in a normative way, where I can just be present and take my time to interact.
To remember we can talk in all sorts of ways. In written words, in spoken words, through typing, through text-to-speech tech, through screens, through paper, through translation, through drawings or cards, through gestures and also with our divergent eyes.
We can wait until the words arrive.
There's no rush. With that, all my joy is time.
There are so many languages to learn and live by.
The place I feel joy is one where I can be in a room just hearing the sound, not being the object of others' conjecture.
I don't need a long, deep conversation and a hug to feel loved. Feeling safe and not pressured makes me feel loved. Breathing space makes me feel loved.
The place I feel joy is one where I'm not pushed to talk. Where I'm not seen as withdrawn, just quiet. Where the fact that I am silent is not a comment to be made. The place I feel joy is one where I'm not singled out.
The place I feel joy is one where people are brave enough to see how their so-called cringe tells more about them and their prejudices than about me.
The place I feel joy is one where the fact I don't speak as much doesn't indicate I'm unwilling to do things or that I'm only willing to do whatever I want and stay quiet.
The place I feel joy is one where my lack of speaking is not seen as if I'm not interested in conversation. It's one where if I take longer to reply that's not interpreted as "no" or as if I'm feeling negatively about what's being said.
The place I feel joy is one where the important things I need to know are communicated to me directly, and not expected from me or passed through ressentment, irony or isolation.
The place I feel joy is the place of care.
It's the place I wake up where. It's the place I build with my own skin. It's the place where I drop my sweat.
The place I feel joy is the only place I can live.
And I don't expect to have only joy in it.
I write and write and then write some more.
Then I start editing. I rephrase. The pain takes new meaning. Or gets erased until it's just a poem left.
I take long hours and days to write something. But in the end I feel euphoria. I don't feel anxious or sad anymore. I feel release.
Through writing I remember there's something beyond common-sense, beyond integration, beyond being included, accepted, aware of, beyond friend fetishism, beyond social convention, beyond all family beliefs and utilitarian measures. Beyond fear. Beyond the fear of misunderstanding and being misunderstood.
Beyond all that.
Or should I say beneath?
Deep beneath all fear are the words our queer and disabled ancestors lived by.
Through writing I feel acknowledged.
Speaking... speaking is where words die.
They get tangled up, and just spill.
∞
these words
where did you find them?
i hope you know how glad i am
that you too have learned
to share
thank you for going
through these lines
with your ears your hands
or eyes
thank you for your carinho
for caring for your senses
for being here
for staying alive
thank you for
your company tonight
writing and writing you just
replicate transferrence you say
words of judgement that stay
nothing to be owned
all is astray
abandoned ashtray
it's
ashes
you are burning it all down
to ashes
i can smell like incense
for blessings
it's
ashes
all already
ashes
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