My Last Article Exploded...Which Brings All-New Possibilities...and Problems

A bit of an explosion for my latest newsletter essay that I did not expect, especially to that magnitude.

I posted it in some autistic community Facebook groups, and the reception and engagement were beyond my expectations. I think I did expect it to resonate more, but not to the degree it did. 

Take a look at how this week's newsletter compares to the prior two for an idea of the scope I am talking about:

Feels good as hell. So I found my audience, it seems.

Also, the response has opened possibilities beyond views and subscribers.

The comments and feedback from so, so many people were honestly amazing. It was great to hear from and connect with fellow autistic travelers about their experiences as leaders, and I want to keep growing those connections and possibly even build a community for autistic leaders. Plus, these interactions may help inform my thinking for my dissertation in some way. Something I’m mulling over.

But those possibilities also come with a cost.

Responding itself takes time, drains my limited writing and cognitive resources and energy, and just feels...never-ending. Yet right now, I feel addicted to the feedback. And just excited to be getting such a response.

This is a good problem. But one I didn’t anticipate.

I have to find a way to include this growth in my balance and approach without letting it consume everything else.

And I need to keep my focus on my dissertation. 

* * *

The response has forced me to consider why this particular essay connected with people, other than simply finding the right audience.

What seems to have really resonated was the inclusion of more of my personal narrative versus just pieces of information from my research. This is not so surprising in retrospect. 

But I think also the connection to systemic norms and barriers that disable autistics, with an eye toward actual solutions and what can be done to address those barriers, instead of simplistic, woe-is-me, life is hard whining. 

I also need to admit I feel a little pressure to make my next one as good or as impactful. I should probably let that go to some extent (while simultaneously not ignoring those things).

I have to really focus on making sure I am saying what I want to say and not get too pulled into a critical mindset that will cause me to censor or stifle myself. The perennial problem of writing. I actually think I am pretty decent with that when it comes to writing, but it is a practice to keep at and not take for granted.

This next one may not resonate as much.

And that’s OK.

And regardless of how the next essay performs, my focus is the dissertation. I have to remind myself of that as well.

* * *

But somehow, all that excitement has created its own kind of paralysis.

I feel a bit...I don’t know...stuck or frozen about what to do next today because I have a lot to do and catch up on. It’s Labor Day weekend, so I want to use that time to make progress, especially on my dissertation, but I also need to do another newsletter and keep that momentum going. Then there is other work stuff to keep up on, cleaning my house, which is a wreck right now, and so on and so on with all the things in my head right now.

And I just feel a bit frozen.

I need a list, but even that feels like a challenge...I should make a list, but I want to do all the things now.

I know this sounds ridiculous.

Make a plan and follow it.

Right?

Except making a plan and following it is not always as simple as it sounds.

An ADDitude Magazine webinar I was listening to earlier today brought up some interesting points about ADHD and executive functions that feel relevant to what I’m getting at.

Ari Tuckman, a psychologist, author, and longtime ADHD expert who specializes in diagnosing and treating ADHD, argued that “executive functions cannot be taught.” It doesn’t work that way.

He described executive functions as being about “managing this present moment now” so that we can create a better future. He also shared a famous description from Russell Barkley, a clinical neuropsychologist, author, and internationally recognized authority on ADHD: “ADHD is not a disorder of knowing what to do. It is a disorder of doing what you know.”

I know what to do. We all do. It’s the actual doing of the things that’s the problem.

And it’s more than just learning productivity skills and habits. I wish it were that simple.

The truth is, I work incredibly hard at those things (I would guess much, MUCH more than most), and I will probably never be where I am “supposed to be.”

Not that those things don’t have value, because those tools and skills are also my bread and butter. But it’s still an ongoing struggle for me in ways it is not and never will be for neurotypicals, and in ways they can’t really, or probably ever will, fully understand or accept. And so they often take it as intentionally disrespectful, rude, lazy, or whatever the interpretation is.

This is an important point for me to build on, better understand, and include in my research. Executive function is one of the least developed areas I need to address in my dissertation, I would say, so this is a good anchor to build on.

I think I am also dealing with a little bit of burnout. I have been going very hard for like two months or more. So yesterday, I needed and used time to decompress. I could probably use more, but I also feel like I have to get back into things. Plus, I have a lot of energy and excitement about my dissertation work, so I need to ride that wave. 

Coincidentally, this week’s newsletter essay will actually be about burnout, so be on the lookout for that. 

* * *

Okay, so a plan: 

1) Work on my dissertation. Keep polishing chapter one. Make a specific goal of what will get done today. 

2) Newsletter. I actually have a draft for that. It needs work, but still. 

3) Clean House. Work that into smaller chunks throughout the day. 

4) Prepare for the work week. Push that to tomorrow. (Thank you, Labor Day.) 

A good framework to get started. The power of writing!

Speaking of Labor Day, I need to go to the local parade tomorrow to watch. My son is performing in it, along with the rest of the high school marching band. Always love those, especially in recent years with my son in them. 

I took them (my kids) for a coffee date yesterday. I loved it so much. I wanted to create space to talk about what is going on for them, what they are doing well, what needs tweaking to achieve their goals, and other things about their lives. They are just their own people now, and I have to really put in the effort to know and understand them and put effort into the relationship itself, like you need to for any relationship, rather than just Dad telling little boys what to do. It is very hard (for me at least) to get out of dad mode. When they tell me things sometimes, I immediately feel an urge to pontificate...I guess also pretty autistic of me. But not so helpful for them. Working on that. 

Some autistic leadership analogies here, actually.

Repository for Thoughts and Writing About Writing: Rethinking the Hero Psychology Blog

Rethinking how I want to use this blog. I am a longtime fan of blogs and have been blogging regularly since 2005. Someday I may collect them all. I have been journaling regularly since 1993. I have a fantasy project of collecting all of those for some kind of grand retrospective character study of myself slash memory. Maybe an autoethnographic look at...something. I don’t know...a longitudinal autoethnographic study of how I've narrated and re-narrated myself across different life transitions. 

I kind of love that, and it's very hero psychology-ish, but I'm going on a tangent.

This blog space has mostly been just a second repository for the newsletter posts I have been doing, but that seems dumb. Why put the same content in two places? It is also potentially confusing for readers.

 So, the newsletters will be more formal essays about hero psychology things, and this will be more about the things I am writing and thinking about related to my newsletter, my dissertation, AuDHD issues, and other writing, as what I write about continues to shift and evolve.

I want to develop the notion of hero psychology into more of a thing. My dissertation first, but maybe that will be my next project. Also, fiction is and has always been my biggest love. I have so many unfinished stories, and plenty of finished ones. I’d love to revisit, finish, polish, and put them out there.

So, this is what this blog will be: a running record of the things I am thinking, writing, revisiting, and slowly turning into something more.

Today...working on revising Chapter One of my dissertation based on my committee chair’s feedback.

I’ve submitted my first three chapters, but I have pretty badly delayed working on it. It’s a shame. I was ahead of the game, and now I am behind.

But it is what it is.

I changed my ADHD meds. The old ones left me extremely tired in the evenings.

These new ones don’t do that...so far. That honestly might have been most of the problem, if I want to find excuses. But...

You know...in respecting the whole point of what it means to be autistic and ADHD, I need to respect the effects of that on me and my experiences as a neurodivergent person.

And minimizing it as just an excuse is perhaps part of the problem.

Doing anything after work felt like an extraordinarily heavy lift. And now, after changing meds, it no longer does. This may even be an important piece to include in my autoethnographic dissertation in some way.

The old meds impacted me. Badly. And hence important projects that impact my career have been delayed by a year.

This is the very kind of writing that will help inform my dissertation, my understanding of autistic leadership, and my understanding of myself as an autistic leader. Because that burnout piece, which I haven’t even really explored much at all yet, is real.

So, another reason for this blog...thinking through things as I am writing, which is honestly the best kind of writing.

But anyway, back to my agenda for today:

My dissertation revisions, like I said.

My newsletter for this week. I have a semi-draft. Something to do with autistic leadership as a form of activism. Not fully developed. But the pieces are there.

And things for work tomorrow.

And that’s my day. 

So, the new direction for this blog: a space to think through thoughts and ideas about Hero Psychology, writing, autism, my dissertation, and whatever else may eventually become something more. Pretty simple. But I think on the nose. 

The AuDyssey: AuDHD Setbacks & Persistence

Odysseus takes ten years to get home from a war that already lasted ten years.

He does not travel steadily forward. He gets lost. He becomes trapped. He makes mistakes. He loses people. Forces beyond his control work against him. Sometimes his own choices make the journey harder.

Yet he keeps moving.

I did not always love how Christopher Nolan’s version portrayed Odysseus. At times, he seemed like a bumbling man staggering from one disaster to another. If we see only his failures, we lose sight of what makes him heroic.

His greatness is not that he avoids setbacks.

It is that, across twenty years of war and wandering, some part of him continues to believe he can still make it home.

That kind of persistence feels familiar to me.

The AuDHD Odyssey

Being AuDHD has often felt less like a steady path of growth and more like an odyssey.

I learn. I adapt. I build systems. I gain confidence. I begin to believe I have finally figured out how to navigate something that once overwhelmed me.

Then an old struggle returns in a new form.

That recurrence can be brutal. If I can still end up here, what exactly did I learn the last time?

But perhaps that is the wrong way to measure growth.

Odysseus does not become heroic by reaching a point where nothing can knock him off course. He becomes heroic through his capacity to continue after being knocked off course again and again.

I would like to get knocked down less.

I would especially like to believe that enough reflection, preparation, and self-awareness could prevent me from ever returning to certain places. But my life has not worked that way. There have always been gains and setbacks, followed by new gains and new setbacks.

There is no final win in which every old vulnerability disappears.

There is only the continued journey.

The Temptation to Forget

One thing I found revealing in Nolan’s portrayal was Odysseus’s eagerness to eat the lotus.

He did not merely seem imprisoned by Calypso. He became a willing participant in his own captivity. The lotus allowed him to forget, to avoid facing what had happened and what returning home might now require.

And yet, some part of him still knew.

It kept calling him back. He would move toward escape, only to be pulled back into forgetting.

I understand the appeal.

Sometimes remembering where we were going forces us to confront the distance between that life and where we are now. Forgetting can feel easier than returning. If we stop thinking about who we hoped to become, we no longer have to feel how far away that person seems.

But some part of us remembers.

It keeps interrupting the forgetting.

Staying in the Underworld

I do not think I am refusing the return right now. I think I am somewhere deeper in the journey.

I am in the underworld.

This is the dark place where the hero descends beneath the ordinary world and encounters what has been buried. It is where old stories are reopened, contradictions emerge, and the self must be reconstructed from pieces that do not fit together well anymore.

Returning to my dissertation alongside my recent setbacks became the call that sent me back down.

My dissertation asks questions about identity, transition, neurodivergence, and how we construct ourselves through the stories we tell. Those questions no longer feel only academic.

I am living inside them again.

There is a part of me that likes it here.

I like collecting the pieces. I like exploring, learning, reflecting, and discovering connections I had not noticed before. For me, and perhaps for other autistic people, there can be a powerful temptation to stay in that depth. Understanding becomes absorbing.

Reconstruction becomes a project without a clear ending.

I can keep digging because there is always another connection to make.

But the purpose of the descent is not to live forever in the underworld. The hero is supposed to return with something.

The danger is not that I will fail to examine my life deeply enough. The danger is that I will remain in examination, endlessly preparing to return without ever deciding that I am ready enough to leave.

There Is No Final Win

I first learned this through sports. Football in particular.

You get knocked down. Hard. You make the wrong decision, sometimes at the worst possible time.

Despite all the practice, preparation, and determination, you lose.

But there is no time to remain on the ground. You get back up and return to the game. To the next play. Another opportunity.

Then another.

Sports taught me that strength is not measured only by how rarely I fall. It is also measured by what I do after I fall.

One of my greatest strengths may be a slightly irrational confidence that I can always get back in there. Some part of me continues to believe that next time could be better. Extraordinary, even.

That confidence may sometimes look foolish.

But it has carried me a long way.

Hero Psychology cannot promise a life without recurrence. It has to make room for regression, avoidance, exhaustion, reconstruction, and return.

The absence of a final win also means that no single loss gets to define the entire story. Finding myself somewhere painful again does not erase the distance I traveled.

That’s what Odysseus understood. Home is not reached through one uninterrupted act of courage. It is reached through the repeated decisions to continue, even after the journey has taken much longer than we believed it would.

I Suck at Blogs: 3 Ways Autistics & ADHDers Can Break Executive Dysfunction Freeze

"I’m committed to publishing a new post each week, so I should have at least 52 posts by the end of 2025. I wonder what Hero Psychology will look like then?"

That's what I said in the last blog I published...10 months ago.

 

By that logic, this should be my 48th blog of the year. Instead, it's my 2nd. Only 50 more to go in the next five weeks. Part of me is tempted. I could do a ton of really short ones and get to 52 by the end of the year. But then I'd probably hate everything about Hero Psychology and abandon it for another 10 months...if not longer.

 

But the time gap tells a story. And it partially answers the question about what Hero Psychology will look like at the end of 2025: a year of significant personal transformation in which writing got pushed aside. However, I have only very recently found a path back to my passion for writing, with a renewed sense of purpose, meaning, and an ever-increasing understanding of how my brain works and what I want this space to be. 

 

I still like the idea of one blog post a week, even if it’s short. And with the year winding down, it's a good time to get back to writing, both because I love it and also because I really do have to complete my dissertation. My goal is to finish 2025 on a strong writing note and ride that into the new year. 

 

So what happened? (The same question I posed in January.) What caused the gap?

 

The Story of What Happened

A lot changed this year. Most significantly, I started a new job at a new institution. I have been the Director of Advisement at Illinois Central College since March, joining a truly great team and a wonderful institution that is serious about making high-impact changes to meet the demands of a rapidly changing higher education landscape. I've genuinely been impressed by what is going on at ICC.  

 

A new higher ed leadership role comes with new systems, expectations, and responsibilities—new everything. And major transitions like this are especially tough for autistic people (did this influence my development of the Hero Psychology model? Probably).  

 

But even before I set foot on campus, I was knee-deep in vitas, cover letters, interviews, and thank-you emails, while still working full-time and parenting teenagers. 

 

On top of all that, I was building consistent habits around food, fitness, and health—important and, honestly, life-changing. But they were also energy-intensive, and that created a domino effect of other changes and tweaks to how I live.

 

As all this ramped up, writing—both my dissertation and this newsletter—slipped out of focus. Not deliberately. It just kept getting moved to “later,” and “later” apparently became 10 months.  

 

Naming What Happened

In my still new-ish role at ICC, I oversee a much larger group of highly talented staff in a fairly high-profile position. All challenges I wanted—ones that really excite me. And because of this, I have accumulated even more ammunition for my dissertation, which explores the challenges and unique strengths of autistic leaders in higher ed. I'm excited to explore and write about these newer revelations.

 

But I also have some AuDHD epiphanies that help explain such a long absence from this blog and my dissertation:  

an Executive Dysfunction Freeze caused by an Executive Function Bottleneck.

My brain hit its capacity, and the transition demanded more cognitive capacity (or "spoons") than I had to spare.  

 

Too much input. Too many moving parts. Not enough bandwidth to write, which demands more sustained attention than I had available.  

 

But things are starting to feel steadier in my job. My routines and processes, which I had to redevelop almost from scratch (a process I kind of love), are coming together. The timing is right to pick writing and this blog back up.  

 

But finding my way back wasn't easy. And it wasn't exactly intentional. I wanted to get back to it. Many times. But didn't. By letting go of the wanting, or rather, letting it be, a shift started to happen. 

 

That shift is what finally pulled me back to writing — and a few things helped me get moving again. 

Photo by sydney Rae on Unsplash (Overlay text by Jason Stalides.)

1. Follow interest, not motivation.

Motivation can be unreliable for autistics and ADHDers, but interests are much more stable. In addition to intense and abundant.  
 
Enter Isaac Asimov. 

I'm a long-time fan. I've been diving back into his stuff, rediscovering my love for his work, science fiction short stories, and idea-infused, high-concept fiction. His writing style hits my brain just right. I have some thoughts on why, related to the double empathy problem (I highly suspect Isaac was on the spectrum) and robots as a metaphor and representation, especially in Asimov stories, of the autistic experience.  
 
This obsession sent me down a deep and rejuvenating rabbit hole: golden-age science fiction, the pulp tradition, and the writers who defined a genre. (Check out Astounding: John W. Campbell, Isaac Asimov, Robert A. Heinlein, L. Ron Hubbard, and the Golden Age of Science Fiction by Alec Nevala-Lee. It's fantastic for pulp sci-fi geeks (like me). I'd also argue it's essential to the understanding of how literature developed in the U.S., but I digress.)
 
In short, reconnecting with my love of Asimov made me want to write again. The spark wasn’t discipline. It was reconnecting with things I love, without regard for an end goal.  
 

If something lights up your brain, follow it. 

2. Lean in to intrinsic stubbornness.

Restarts happen. Especially for neurodivergent folk. Life shifts and priorities change. You tell yourself that you'll come back to the thing (whatever it is) soon. Later. And it will be waiting eagerly for your return.   
 
At some point, too much time passes. Any sense of urgency and momentum has long vanished. The thing is different now. Alien. It didn't wait after all. Some seemingly different thing has replaced it, and you have to become friends with it again. But you don't really want to.    
 
So how do you find your way back? For autistics, the path back has to be organic and intrinsic. You can't be forced. Not even by yourself. We can get into trouble over our perceived stubbornness. It can get bad, and people do not understand.
 
But by not looking for the motivation, the motivation found me. I had to write again. I yearned to.
 
The hunger outweighed the guilt. The page called to me, so I began writing some words, then some sentences, then some pages.  

 

3. Build doable goals that feel personal.

Reconnecting with my love of Asimov rekindled my love for writing, both fiction and non-fiction—which motivated me to fit writing back into my life. The question then becomes how do I do that?
 
I started by setting up some achievable writing goals to start, along with retooling and creating some all-new systems and structures to allow it to happen.
 
But the daily word goal is key, and sharing that goal helps keep me accountable, so here it is:
 

333 words a day.

999 on weekends or holidays.

 
Why those numbers? They're small enough that I don’t dread them, which makes them much easier to initiate on low-energy days, while also allowing for impactful progress. Plus, I like the number three (my birthdate, cosmic and symbolically significant, and just a nice round number that feels right).

I'll use this blog to share my word counts with you. Don't let me slack again!

What is Happening Now

Writing feels good again. Great even. While my dissertation and this newsletter need attention, I finally feel like I have the bandwidth to pick both up again without overwhelming myself. The freeze has apparently thawed, the bottleneck loosened, and I’m easing back into it. 

 

I'm also reinitiating my long-overdue plan for one blog per week.

  

If anything here resonates with your experiences, I’d love to hear about it. I get a lot out of learning how other people navigate similar terrain.

  

If you’re not already subscribed, I'd love it if you stuck around. I’ll be sharing updates on my dissertation, the writing practice I’m rebuilding, autistic and ADHD issues, probably some thoughts on science fiction, and whatever other tangents call to me (I'm sure there will be many). 

 

I also invite you to let me know if there’s something you'd like to see me explore further. I’m still shaping what this space will be, and it can be amazing to see what connections emerge from suggestions and encouragement from others.   

 

✍️ Writing Log Check-In:

(Since restarting on Nov. 28)

• Nov 28: 724 (goal: 333)

• Nov 29: 1,649 (goal: 999)

• Nov 30: 971 so far today (goal: 999)

Running total: 3,267 words

 

I head back to work tomorrow after the holiday break, so that will be the real test. For excellent tips and strategies on how to fit writing into a busy life, check out Be a Writing Machine 2: Write Smarter and Faster, Beat Writer's Block, and Be Prolific (Author Level Up) by M.L. Ronn. Great stuff, and I hope you find it helpful.

I Suck at Dissertation Writing: 3 Apps to Help Autistics & ADHDers Focus on Writing and College Work

I actually don't suck at dissertation   writing. In fact, I'm very good at it, and I   kinda love it...well, sometimes. But the way I work best differs from the ways   neurotypicals do, which can seem backward, nonsensical, or even lazy to those who are less cognizant and accepting of differences, especially regarding working styles. My awareness of these differences inspired my dissertation, which looks at how autistic   leaders in higher education deal with thobstacles unique to their neurodivergent status and what strengths they bring to their roles. It also inspired me to start this blog at the end of 2022, which I intended to publish regularly in 2023. I was excited to explore and write further about my then newish autistic identity, chronicle my dissertation progress, and flesh out what I call Hero Psychology, an identity transition model combining psychology and the myths/stories societies have used for millennia to help people navigate life transitions.

So why the delay? What happened? A lot, actually.

Photo by Romain Vignes on Unsplash (Overlay text by Jason Stalides.)

But needless to say, focus and sustained attention can be a significant challenge for autistics. Most people don't realize that autism comes with a lot of the same executive functioning challenges as ADHD. Which reminds me: I also now have a formal ADHD diagnosis (and am now a part of the growing AuDHD community—so much to learn and incorporate into my dissertation!). My point: with my job, parenting, and school work, the blog kept getting pushed off for another day, then another...and now it's two years later. Talk about time blindness.

But I did make some pretty remarkable progress in my studies. I finished all my coursework, passed my comprehensive exam (on the first try...ahem), and co-presented my dissertation topic and research findings (up to that point) at 2023 NASPA Annual Conference in Boston. It was very well received. I had never experienced anything like it. And afterward, I was swarmed by people who wanted to learn more. My co-presenters and I were even invited to turn our presentation into a paid, on-demand webinar.

Also since 2023, I've continued to learn a lot about what helps autistics and ADHDers (and, of course, myself) keep focused on writing projects after a long day of work and parenting. I usually don't even get to my schoolwork until after I make dinner for my sons and me. By that point, my energy is low, I'm tired, my brain is fried, and the last thing I want to do is sit down to work on a writing project that requires deep work. The tiredness and resistance is honestly a bit intense at times, and without systems and tools in place, I would get little to nothing done. So to hunker down and keep motivated when I really, REALLY don't feel like it, I rely on systems that help me begin (often the hardest part), stay on task, and reduce distractions.

The tools in my system aren't mind-blowing, although each app below is excellent. The power comes from combining them in a pre-established way, so I don't have to think about how I will work, which frees up the cognitive RAM needed to get over the hump and do some work.

1. Todoist: This task manager is my main go-to and helps me organize, well, everything. One of my favorite things about it is the ability to quickly capture to-dos, ideas, random thoughts, etc. I can organize them later. It also has excellent calendar syncing capabilities. I can break projects down into actionable steps, see everything I need to do in a single, trusted place, organize them in a way that works for me, and then prioritize tasks to determine what to focus on next. Fair warning: don't start by trying to develop elaborate productivity systems, which can be a way to procrastinate in itself (believe me). Keep it simple, and tweak it as you go

2. Focus To-Do: With my next task cued up, I can begin. But, of course, there are a million things that pull me away, especially when I’m working from home. Enter Pomodoro. I’m a big fan. Small, achievable chunks of time are less intimidating. Pomodoro focus sessions typically last 25 minutes. But I tend to use 15-minute sessions—approximately three per hour. Sometimes I blow past the time and get lost in the work; other times, a few minutes can feel neverending, and I want to do…anything else. But the big red timer reminds me that I made that 15-minute commitment, and since the remaining time is pretty short, I think, “Ok, I can do this,” and get back to it. Rinse repeat as needed. Another excellent feature of Focus To-Do is the ability to lock your phone or block specific apps, so when the timer starts, you can’t use your phone for anything else until time runs out. Pro-tip: things that add resistance to screen distractions can really add up. Find little ways to make distractions less convenient. 

3. Brain.fm: My kids are loud. But even when I'm alone, too quiet is also "loud" in a different way. Brain.fm's soft beats and melodies are engineered to work with your brain and promote sustained attention. It does exactly that for me. There is a lot of song variety, and it’s easy to use, so you can quickly and easily find the music that works best for you. The goal is to get to work, not spend time finding the perfect work song. My favorite is Electronic Music Focus. It keeps the world out and boxes me in.

There is more to my focus system, and I continually tweak and refine it. For example, I recently started time tracking with Toggl Track to get more control of my time. Maybe I’ll expand on my full system in another post. But the three apps above are the keystones that keep it all together. This is a process that has developed over time by trial and LOTS of error. So be patient with yourself, don't implement too many new habits at once, and come at it with an experimental mindset (instead of beating yourself up if something isn't working how you hoped). I promise I continue to slip and even fall, but I keep getting back up. I keep starting over. I keep making progress. Even if it’s only a little. Take the wins. Learn from the stumbles.

I hope you found that helpful and that something there works for you. Let me know in the comments. It’d be great to hear from you. What resonated? What didn’t? What's your developing system like? It would be even greater if you subscribed. Most of my posts will likely be about my dissertation and all the things I learn along the way, but I am open to tangents. What would you like to see more of? I’m committed to publishing a new post each week, so I should have at least 52 posts by the end of 2025. I wonder what Hero Psychology will look like then? Help me to shape it into something that helps us all. ✌️

Autism and Autobiographical Memory: An Alliterative Revelation

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

In navigating my way through my ASD diagnosis, in weaving this newer revelation into my identity, my story, I am grasping and actively seeking answers, information, knowledge, etc., in that obsessive way Aspies can. 

This fits quite well with my ongoing obsessions already. Identity, including narrative identity, has been a long-term research interest for me.  

The intersection of story and self, in particular, resonates with me. Part of the reason I double majored in psychology and English. Story filled in aspects of the self I felt the science of psychology was not equipped to address (by the very nature of the scientific method, which I am a big fan of, don't get me wrong). 

This led me to things like narrative psychology, narrative identity, and autobiographical memory. 

I mention this as prelude to an article I came across that addresses some of the unique aspects of how autobiographical memory can present in people on the spectrum: 

"from studies of autobiographical memory...while those with autism may have an excellent memory for factual information, the process of storing and recalling specific personal experiences, such as those that happened on a particular day in a particular place, is much more difficult. Instead, their memories tend to record their experience in general terms, rather than the specifics of the occasion." 

Sometimes I can be amazed at how well Asperger characteristics fit and help me to explain and understand myself. I find that aspect of diving into this pretty exciting. 

In regards to my memory, I definitely have difficulties "storing and recalling personal experiences." I am always much more big picture with how I think about and recall most things. I have understood this about myself for a while but never made a connection to autobiographical memory. 

I can't help but wonder if, on some level, my difficulties navigating life transitions and storing my experiences in autobiographical memory accounts for my obsession to understand both. 

This new information is now part of the "equation" for me. Another piece of the puzzle has fallen into place. 

Wonderful.

Autism Diagnosis: A Hero Act

Photo by BiancaVanDijk, pixabay.com user_id:9606149 

Today I learned I am autistic. Officially. I have been pretty sure for a few months now. And the process from consult to assessment to diagnosis was a long one. But I did my obsessive research on it, as Aspies tend to do. I was pretty sure. But the official diagnosis from a VA psychiatrist makes it...official. 

It's a life transition. A big one. A hero moment. I am actually in the midst of a few pretty big and meaningful life transitions. I'll explore those in other blog posts. 

Life transitions have always been an interesting subject for me. Maybe because I struggle with them so much. But also because they often have the most powerful impact on who we become, who we are now, how we think about prior life transitions, and how we deal with them in the future.

I came up with the concept of Hero Psychology a long time ago to develop a model of life transitions. The model was a blend of mostly mythological and psychological theories.

I have sort of abandoned this model for a long time. The daily grind of life can be an excellent procrastination tool to avoid exploring your passions and interests, hopes, dreams, etc.

But the model, the idea, has always stuck with me, and now, more than ever, it may be the most relevant to me.

This blog will be about life transitions in a variety of forms. And more important, it will be how we use stories to navigate our way through life transitions. To create a new sense of self that allows us to feel the events of our lives are a coherent, meaningful whole. The creation, this story is, in ways, a fiction. And the fiction can be helpful. I would say crucial. It can also be harmful. Because the story we create for ourselves has tremendous power over how we think and feel about our self. How we treat ourselves and interact with others.

Hero Psychology is about all these things and more. But at the core, it is about how we move through life transitions. How that process happens. And in exploring that, how to do it better or more meaningfully. To come out on the other side with a renewed sense of self-meaning. A more malleable life story better able to weather the next inevitable, unexpected transition, big or small. 

The act of being autistic, of being neurodiverse in a neurotypical world, is a hero act. 

This quest didn't exactly start today, but it was codified today. And this is just the beginning. 

I would love your company as I dive in and learn more about what it means to be autistic. Learn to be who I am, really. And in doing so, perhaps help others be more able to be who they are.