One of the biggest problems--maybe the one that underlies all the "divergence"--in being neurodivergent is the big feelings. The reason most of us are medicated (in order to be able to operate in the "normal" world at all) is this. {There's a whole other aside here that I'm going to try not to get distracted by, but basically, are there really "normal" people??}
Because most of us--ok, me, it's me--*I* learned early on that the big feelings aren't really welcome out in the rest of the world, I kept them to myself. We often turn in on/to ourselves, either trapping the big feelings, intellectualizing them, sometimes journaling or "art-ing" about them, or stuffing them down in our bodies (don't get me started...), or maybe even expressing them--although usually in ways that aren't "good" (and why little hyper boys get medicated). But I digress... for me, it was stuffing, sometimes writing, a LOT of intellectualizing, and basically curling myself up in a little introverted ball and trying not to have to rely on anyone else very much.
As I've reached the age where I need to work out some of the effects of these early coping mechanisms, I've also noticed that sometimes the "masked" self I created has done some good for me. While I realize that the pendulum has swung on the other direction lately, in many of the discussions around neurodivergence+masking (i.e., that it's Not Good and we really shouldn't be doing it), I think, that like in many things in Life, finding a kind of balance is what's probably most useful.
For me, my mask is pretty outgoing and "peopley"--hence why many of my friends (and children) accuse me of not really being an introvert. But today was one of those days when I was grateful for the work that self has done.
Waking up to yet another job application rejection did not set the day off on a good trajectory from the beginning, and my overly active mind went to work, questioning and catastrophizing. As I sank deeper and deeper into an existential crisis and the accompanying pit of despair, I did at least recognize that one of the only things that would help me not ending up at the bottom of said pit was getting out of the house. One thing I have learned about myself is that my scenery really makes a difference in my motivation and energy, and usually a change of my surroundings will help me find my way out of a funk--or at least for sure that the opposite is true: staying in that physical space often does not help me get out of that mental space.
I decided to stop and get an iced coffee at my favorite neighborhood joint, where I could already feel that just making the effort to chat and generally be a social person started to lift me up. But then, the employee taking my order remembered my name, and I literally almost started crying. I let her know how much that meant, which then sent another little spark through the feedback loop of human-care. I left feeling lighter.
I've been getting "messages from the universe" recently that have emphasized the importance of letting go, which is a Big Struggle for me. Refer to earlier discussion about coping mechanisms--I have "learned" over the last 50 years that I am the one who has to Do The Thing. Hence, letting go is not a thing I do well or easily. The image that came to mind when I was thinking about this the other day was floating in water--another thing I really can't do. I was thinking about the instinct to thrash about in the water, trying to gain purchase on something, anything--when what you're supposed to do (so I've heard) is stop thrashing and let yourself float.
This is probably why I've never been able to learn to swim--drowning while trying is somehow easier/better in my screwed up "logic" than just letting go (because I can't really trust that I'll actually float). Perhaps honoring my urge to leave the house and stop for a coffee was a tiny way of letting go--I'm still holding on to the side of the pool, but letting one leg up off the bottom to try and feel the water lift me.
Yeah, I know there are lot of mixed metaphors here, but maybe this will make sense to a couple other "crazies"-- and honestly, even if it doesn't, the act of writing this out is the real goal here. Me trying to find ways to hash out my own big feelings and non-linear thinking process, hoping that by setting them down in this way I can see some pattern or map that will help me make sense of what's going on. And if it helps someone else, then awesome; I've maybe set off another little human-care feedback loop.