Neurodivergence And Mental Illness

Kanye West went from being the biggest rapper on the planet to a right-wing counter-culture hero to WTF happened fairly quickly. What caused him to throw away his career, life, and possibly custody of his children in such a destructive and public manner? What makes a man put on a gimp mask, go on Alex Jones and praise Hitler? Is Kanye just a bad person? Is he crazy? Most bipolar folks do not embrace conspiratorial and anti-Semitic views. But sane people do not do what he just did either.

Nobody can definitively tell you where Kanye’s anti-Semitism ends and where his paranoid and delusional tendencies begin. The line is so blurry as to be non-existent.

Mental illness is poorly understood. Hell, the human brain itself is poorly understood. Psychiatry has come a long way, but at the end of the day, it’s just throwing spaghetti at the ceiling and hoping something sticks. There are no blood tests that confirm you’ve got depression or bipolar mania. Just educated guesses. We don’t even really know how SSRIs work. A recent study came out that debunked the long-standing theory that depression is caused by a deficit in serotonin. So why are we taking SSRIs? Nobody really knows.

I have a lifetime of personal experience with mental illness, so I have some skin in the game. I’m talking since around age 5. I didn’t get the proper treatment or diagnosis until I was 21 years old and in crisis. This was 22 years ago when there was still a massive stigma to mental illness. It was one thing to see a therapist, it was quite another to admit you have been hospitalized in the past and have to take psychiatric meds regularly.

My brain can be my own worst enemy. I’ve had periodic episodes of depersonalization that hit me at random times, sometimes multiple instances a day. Am I really in this body? Do I really exist? How did I get to be situated in this meat skeleton in the first place? My most recent episode was just last month and took me weeks to overcome.

My mind has gotten stuck on one topic and won’t move on. My worst anxieties and worst phobias have gotten stuck on a loop, 24/7, occurring even in my dreams. Compulsions only make the obsessions intensify. In the same way that scratching a mosquito bite would give you just a few seconds of relief, only to make the itch worse.

When anxiety and phobias are crippling they keep me isolated, avoiding social events or traveling too far from home. It's like the type of overactive smoke alarms that go reeeee at the slightest whiff of burnt toast. Imagine having one of those installed in your brain, permanently. I have had panic attacks in public, on subways, in class, on airplanes, and at work. Over 20 years ago, I threw up on a rabbi, mid-panic attack, at a posh Orthodox Jewish singles mixer. He was the speaker for the evening. That would be hands-down, the most embarrassing moment of my life. I didn’t meet any prospective husbands that night, to say the least. The rabbi graciously declined my offer to pay for his dry-cleaning and reassured me that he wasn’t upset, but still, the shame is permanently seared into my psyche.

When my mind gets overwhelmed with too much panic and anxiety, it shuts down and goes into depression mode. When this happens, life loses its color, and every day is just going through the motions so I can get back to bed. This can lead to a deep pit of hopelessness – it feels like nothing will ever get better. Or it can mean complete emotional anhedonia. No happiness, no sadness, no fear – just a vast endless sea of an emotional desert – blankness. The worst episode of anhedonia I endured was in my early 20s. It took me almost 2 years to come out of that.

I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to wrap my mind around the way my brain works and doesn’t. I’ve worked my ass off to be a functional, relatively happy human being. I’ve seen dozens of therapists, and psychiatrists, and taken all the various medications I was prescribed. The biggest takeaway from my experiences is that there are no quick fixes, no magic pill.

Thank God, I am relatively well these days. I am very proud of how far I’ve come. I’m not cured. I still have to battle my own mind on a regular basis. And yet, I accept this pulsating, quivering 3 lb. mass of nerve cells, fatty tissue, and electricity residing in my skull for what it is. An occasionally malfunctioning yet wondrous organ that has given me the gifts of creativity and original thought. Not to mention hearing music in full color – thank you synesthesia.

Having spent the majority of my adult life battling feelings of inadequacy and shame over my diagnoses, it blows my mind that mental illness is trendy now. People proclaim all their diagnoses in their Twitter bios or use the term “neurodivergent” to describe themselves. You know how “queer” is kind of a catch-all term that is so vague as to be meaningless? That’s what “neurodivergent” is. All the cool kids are claiming they have multiple personalities and autism. We’re at the point where CIA recruiting videos feature agents discussing their generalized anxiety disorder.

It's a bit much at times. We’ve gone from there being a massive taboo around mental health issues to folks embracing illness as a badge of honor. Both approaches are toxic. Do you also get the feeling that people are cosplaying being mentally ill for oppression points? Appropriating other people’s life-and-death struggles for clout and those sweet social media “likes”? They never have to deal with the actual reality folks like me live with daily. I’m simultaneously flattered and offended by these clout chasers. They wouldn’t last a week in my head.

Most of these folks are overly educated, well-to-do, and live cushy, comfortable lives. They have to invent their own problems so as to not appear too “privileged”. This is the worst kind of appropriation. It’s stolen valor! They don’t have to worry about whether Medicaid will cover their medications, whether their new therapist will contact the authorities if they’re a little too depressed, or whether they can get to see a therapist at all. With the rise of the “worried well” there’s been a rise in Instagram therapy and self-serving advice. Behavior that would have just been called straight-up “narcissism” not too long ago, is now due to “trauma” or “CPTSD”. Calling the behavior out is “abuse”. Therapist Seerut Chawla has written about these topics at length, much more eloquently than I have touched upon here.

For myself and many others, mental stability requires consistent hard work and self-discipline. It’s pushing through the brain glitches and going about your day as if nothing is amiss. It’s surrounding yourself with people who are a positive and supportive influence on your life. It’s being consistent with your medication and keeping up with your appointments. Yes, this means you do have to take personal responsibility for your mental health, just like with your physical

health. Individual circumstances vary greatly. Not everyone is in a position to take that control. But the majority of folks do have some autonomy over their minds and just have to learn how to use it and maximize it. And here’s the most crucial, most important thing: nobody can do this all by themselves.

Seeking out a good psychiatrist and therapist is vital to recovery and stability. Problem is, mental health help is not terribly accessible in the US. Good therapists and psychiatrists tend to not accept insurance. If you go to a Medicaid-covered clinic, you’re on waiting lists for months and half the time you end up with someone right out of school, with little experience and even less interest in helping you. They’re just biding their time until they can go into private practice and make actual money. You might get lucky and get someone really good, but they tend to leave these clinics the fastest.

Additionally, psychiatry, given that it’s not a hard medical science, is particularly vulnerable to the whims of socio-political trends. We’ve seen this in particular with the aggressive stance toward transitioning gender non-conforming children with mental health issues instead of addressing the root causes of their dysphoria. What was considered a mental disorder not even 40 years ago, is now mainstreamed. Lobotomies used to be a thing, now chopping off gonads is de rigueur. You could be forgiven for being leery about trusting a psychiatrist with something as fundamental as your brain and mind.

There are no easy answers to these complicated issues, but our society would do well to invest in the mental health of its own citizenry instead of leaving vulnerable people on the streets or in prisons. Whether that means more government programs or private charities, I don’t think matters, as long as something is done.

Mental illness should never be glamorized or seen as something to aspire to have. We love to romanticize the tortured artist, but Van Gogh died alone and miserable – never having lived to enjoy his own fame and success. Robin Williams’ comedic talent was a gift to millions but ultimately, he too succumbed to his own demons. Too many musicians belong to the 27 Club, having died too young for us to really see what they could do. Kanye is just the most recent example of the tortured artistic genius, not getting the help he needs.

Even though I’m Jewish, and pretty appalled at Kanye’s anti-Semitic rants, I really hope and pray he recovers. I’m hoping one day he realizes the gravity of what he’s done and works to make amends with the Jewish community. I still sympathize somewhat with Kanye even if he wants to go all “Death Con 3” on us. I understand, on a very fundamental level, what it’s like to not be able to trust my own mind and thoughts. If Kanye got the help he sorely needs, he could set a shining example for others who’ve suffered. Maybe he could even start some charities to help those suffering from mental health issues. Kanye could become a truly inspiring comeback story.

I haven’t lost hope for him yet.