I have the misfortune of being neurodivergent, chronically mentally ill (hello, depression and anxiety!), and highly ambitious. The idea of leading an average life and being just like everyone else makes me physically ill. As you can imagine, this provides a bit of a conundrum. I have high standards and lofty goals, but it’s hard enough for me to lead a “regular” life — much less an exceptional one.

I was a “gifted” child — straight As my whole life, middle and high school valedictorian, accepted to an elite university. I got so used to being academically exceptional as a child and then having that validated by getting into Yale and spending four years being told that I was one of the few, the proud, the Marines elite that would change the world that I thought I would easily live an exceptional life as an adult. Then, my friends, life happened. If you know, you know.

I was also seemingly born with less will to live and a greater need for freedom than other people. For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt like life was only worth living if it looks exactly how I want it to. This, combined with depression, means that even when my life is “fine,” I always have a quiet voice in the back of my head that’s just not feeling the whole “being alive” thing. When I’m actively going through difficult times, the voice rages. This week, she’s raging.

The “good” thing about having struggled with depression since childhood is that I now know that depressive episodes are temporary and that I’ll likely feel better in a few weeks. I have a toolkit of coping skills to draw from: stay connected, stay vertical, don’t starve yourself, drink water, and try to leave the house at least once a day. Still, they’re always an annoying reminder that depression is a lifelong illness and that the “good times” can’t last forever.

Even on my best days, I feel like an alien. Many people agree that our current society wasn’t built to serve most people, but I genuinely feel like I’m on the wrong planet sometimes. I share the same core values as most people, I think: kindness, respect, connection, love, honesty, justice. But my philosophy is almost the exact opposite of everyone around me. I don’t value traditional career success or religion or the sacredness of biological family over other relationships. I’m also always pondering existential questions that cause me very real distress while everyone else is just getting on with it.

Of course, there are some silver linings to having a strange little brain. I think my neurodivergence helps me connect dots that many others miss. I’m deeply curious and have a lot of knowledge I can draw on to connect with others. My struggles with depression and anxiety have also made me more empathetic than I think I’d be if I were a naturally happy person. Still, weeks like this one remind me that this is a debilitating illness and I almost wish I were normal.

In the past decade, I’ve gone from being depressed and anxious 100% of the time to being depressed and anxious 40% of the time. Perhaps someday I’ll get it down to 5-10%. Until then, the voice rages on.

Yours in the struggle,
Mina

P.S. I saw The Odyssey this week with my sister and really enjoyed it! I was a bit worried about sitting through a 3-hour movie. Still, the story was engaging, the acting was solid, and my sister — who is a notorious movie theatre napper — only fell asleep for 10 minutes in the middle.