Lone Wolf, Letting Go

I wholeheartedly agree with you. Recently I was thinking about this along the lines of:

"Why are the lights off? Can someone turn them on?"

"Open your eyes, idiot."

Sometimes it really is a problem with your own perception and not the world.

One of the important texts on the topic: http://paulgraham.com/identity.html

"Keep your identity small."

You don’t label yourself with a diagnosis. Sure, I also don’t think it’s healthy to view yourself as your diagnosis. I have a few myself and I view it more as an explanation as to why I don’t really fit into this “work week” thing that we still obsess about. Like really, I can see why it made/makes sense at the factory line, but in the office? Heh. Maybe that’s a little unclear, but I spent almost a year working 4 days a week instead of the typical 5, and if you compare my performance to now that I’m working 5 again, it’s dropped. Yet I’m paid 1/5 more for less and my company is genuinely more happy with my performance because it turns out we measure attendance more than what is delivered.

Now, I’m bipolar and I have ADHD, and as a result I’ll be able to do a weeks work in one day, sometimes. At other times I can do absolutely nothing for a period of time, and since nobody is really paying attention (and haven’t done so in my career of two decades), the over all results tend to be that I “outperform” most of my colleagues. In many ways this is due to my “labels”, but it’s also because we’ve build a society that doesn’t really support people who are “better” in bursts. There are other things as well, I’m Danish so this may be a little foreign to you Americans, but I come with benefits from the government. I have a few more sick days than your usual employee, but we have a program called paragraph 56 where the state will compensate my employer for this by paying most of my paid sick leave on any sick days related to my mental challenges. So obviously I’ve been rather upfront about my “disabilities” in hiring positions. I’ve also found that it’s just easier to be honest about it with people. So for me those “labels” are part of who I am.

Now, I did star out by saying that I didn’t think it was healthy to become your “label” so you can also say that I agree with you, at least a little. What I don’t agree with is mixing diagnosis in with self-made “labels” like a lone wolf. Because the lone wolf (speaking of actual wolves here) isn’t happy about being a lone wolf. Like all dogs they are pack animals who don’t thrive when they are on their own. Hell, even the whole “alpha” thing turned out to just be for wolves in captivity where it’s the result of being “broken” by their capture. So as you can imagine, it’s not too nice to be compared with those people. Because I would frankly prefer if I was neurotypical and I’ve never once met someone who didn’t. Sure, there is a degree of “would I be me” in most of those feelings, the world is never black and white after all, but it’s just so hard to carry a “label” like ADHD that it probably can’t be explained. I tend to use the analogy of working two full time jobs but only having enough energy for 1,5 of them, and that’s when you’re well medicated and in a good period. Turning back to people who “are” their “label” more than it is just a part of them, which I’m guessing is what you are referring to here. Well, it’s hard to have a mental disability, and sometimes it’s easier if it’s out there. I already mentioned I found it to be much easier if everyone knew than if it was something you sort of hide, and I’ve certainly found that to be the case. Sometimes it’s also sort of a coping mechanism for people, like a way to explain to others why they are being “weird”. That’s the part I don’t think is too healthy by the way, but I can understand why you see the need to do it.

Last but not least, there is also the signalling to other neuro-divergent. If people put it up on their SoMe description it’ll often be as a way of telling other neurodivergents that you’re one of us. That may sound strange to you, but let me explain again with an anecdote from my own life. I was diagnosed late in my life, I probably only ended up with a diagnosis because I had children which ended my typical “coping mechanism” of simply going to bed early on stressful and/or depressed days. I’d have weeks of getting up, going to work, coming home and having dinner with my wife and then go straight to bed for 10-12 hours of sleep. You obviously can’t do that with children so it “broke” me to have one. Now everything is fine, but now I’ve also medicated and been through several years of therapy. Anyway, in the decade since I had my first diagnosis, more and more of my very adult friends have joined me. So even by accident the people I’m friends with are neurodivergent, and that’s not some cozy story, it’s because we’re the only people who can “handle” each other of sorts. Like I have a really good friend that I’ve gone years without speaking with, and it’s not like we don’t know that this isn’t weird. It’s just that it works because it’s sort of the “standard setting” for both of us.

Anyway, I hope you’ll consider not mixing people with diagnosis into people who’d call themselves “lone wolves” or whatever else.

> Once you attach such a label, for example "I'm a democrat", "I'm a lone wolf", "I'm straight", etc., and maybe you even tell people and put it in your online profiles

Love this perspective. I'd add that broadcasting plans or intentions is detrimental. It feels like doing something and gives the dopamine hit without actual doing it.

In a work and personal setting I've found that shifting from "I will" to "I did" is very powerful. And it respects everyone's time better.

Dying broke sounds like something only someone without kids or loved ones wants.

Please explain this to people who invade my personal life, establish an "identity" of their choosing with labels for me, and never reconsider their decision. E.g. how do i stop certain people from telling everyone else that i don't like travelling, when in fact i do like to travel, just not with them? sigh