Jan. 2024: Lemniscate loop-de-loops

I thought I was getting better. Turns out, I’m just getting more complicated.

Dear friends,

At the start of the month, I participated in Pig Iron Theatre’s devised theatre intensive Something From Nothing. It was so fun. I was nervous about entering a space where most people had a theatre background and I did not, but the training was very physical, and physical expression is a strong instinct of mine. I even got to teach everyone a silly guessing song that I recently came up with, which at first was about animals but then ended up being about chemical elements after I made a joke lyric about lithium. I felt very creative, even ridiculously so.

The problem was, every day I had some sort of autistic shutdown, where sometimes I required other people’s assistance. Sometimes I just froze up for a couple of seconds before continuing on with the activity. Sometimes I lost the ability to stand for up to an hour and thus had to sit on the side. One time, I became immobile for several minutes and then needed to be carried out of the basement. I was transparent with the instructor about what was going on, and she was extremely supportive, checking in with me at the beginning and end of each day, helping me get to refuge spaces, and even having me talk with a counselor one day. But it became too much, and after six out of the ten days, she asked me to leave the workshop out of concern for my safety. That morning, I already couldn’t attend because I was stuck in bed.

This sent me into despair. I had done everything I could to communicate my needs and take care of myself, and the instructor had done everything she could to support me. But it still didn’t work, and that reality broke me. It’s possible that I was actually in hypomania the days before I had to leave — it’s hard to tell, as a creative intensive is both the perfect trigger and the perfect mask for hypomania — and I was already about to sink into depression. Either way, I felt really broken and despaired about life as a disabled person.

For a few days I was depressed and suicidal, to the extent of attempting self-harm. My therapist said I should go to the hospital. I really did not want to go again, so I went to my mother’s instead. The depression soon lifted, but then after an intense shutdown followed by a meltdown, I ended up in autistic burnout, a state I have never been in before, but which I recognized from my obsessive reading about autism. It is not an official diagnosis, but like shutdowns and meltdowns, it is a response to intense overwhelm. For me, it feels like chronically being about to shut down at any moment.

Burnout is the converse of depression: whereas depression is, “I hate life; therefore, I can’t do anything,” burnout is, “I can’t do anything; therefore, I hate life.” (In contrast, mania is the inverse of depression: “I love life; therefore, I can do anything!”) I’ve been mostly stuck in bed, watching cat videos on Instagram, because I don’t consistently have the focus or energy to do anything else. My mind is working more slowly; puzzles have become harder than usual. Unlike depression, in which forcing yourself to do activities helps you to feel better, forcing yourself to do things during burnout only makes you feel worse and can even trigger a shutdown or meltdown. There is no treatment or cure except lots of rest. Which is frustrating. I want to do so much!

And yes, I have not yet been officially diagnosed autistic, as I am currently undergoing the assessment, but it’s obvious enough with me that even my parents seem convinced. Indeed, this is the only facet of my neuroqueerness that they have not outright denied at some point, perhaps because since I was a child they’ve yelled at me about my having “no emotional intelligence” and traumatized me in the process. I was unsure until a few months ago, after several autistic people told me that they believed that I was autistic and pointed out that my experiences of getting physically stuck when stressed sounded like autistic shutdowns.

What is most frustrating about my not yet being well is that it is really hard to plan anything in my life right now. I don’t know how long this burnout will last, and I don’t know generally if my mental health will become reliably stable at some point. I feel nervous about my career goals; I had thought that a balance of an education career with a creative one would be excellent for my interests, but I worry that I might be chronically prone to overworking myself. And in the near future, it feels daunting to try to prepare for either of these goals, as I can’t work right now and don’t know how I can rebuild trust in myself to do even something as basic as go to the grocery store, a highly stimulating environment that has recently triggered shutdowns.

What gives me solace is knowing that my experiences are my resources, to later channel into art and into helping others. Although I can’t outwardly do much right now, there is nothing wasted in this time of rest. I document my experiences on this Substack and on my social media, in an effort to educate y’all about things that you or someone you know might later experience — and to keep myself alive. Storytelling gives me purpose, when it feels like all else is lost.

In case you missed it…

…here are three passionately written posts from the past month.

Featured Creator

This month’s feature is Jennifer Wright, one of my favorite musicians! I got to meet Jennifer in-person at New Music Gathering last year.

Jennifer Wright, M.M., B.M., is a pianist, composer, educator, multi-capacity performer, multidisciplinary artist, and culture-maker. She has been described as “a real force of nature” (FearNoMusic artistic director Kenji Bunch),  “New music glam!” (Aligned Artistry), and “brassy, nutty, classy…mad, quite mad.” (Oregon ArtsWatch). 

Jennifer teaches at Reed College, Portland State University College of the Arts, and in her award-winning private piano studio in Portland, Oregon. Jennifer is passionate about creating transformative, multi-sensory performance art experiences. Her highly experimental work melds diverse disciplines, narrative modes, and creative expressions into an adventurous, boundary-warping, and deeply intentional practice. Some of her favorite areas of endeavor include building experimental instruments/sound sculptures from industrial debris/consumer waste/deconstructed pianos; social commentary/satire; working with found sound; site-specific work; and deep collaboration with live movement and moving pictures.

Jennifer graduated summa cum laude from the Hartt School of Music in Hartford, CT with a Bachelor of Music in piano performance and studied for two years at the Hochschule für Musik und Darstellende Kunst and Universität Stuttgart in Germany.  She was awarded several Distinctions for her Masters Degree achievements in performance and musicological research at the Trinity College of Music in London, England in the Historically Informed Piano Performance degree program. Jennifer performs regularly as a solo and collaborative artist and has presented, curated, and produced numerous shows, festivals, and workshops in the U.S., the U.K., Europe, and Cuba.

Website: https://jenniferwrightpianostudio.com

Watch Jennifer perform “Anthropocene (Legacy)” for Skeleton Piano

A Contemplative Offering

As I’m navigating neurodivergent burnout, it has become very clear that I must listen more to my own body rather than to other people’s guesses about my needs. What is one piece of advice that you find important to give yourself but that is contrary to what others have told you?

When Jennifer sent me her feature materials, she mused, “If only we could all feel well all the time. Imagine what we could accomplish!” My complementary offering: What could you not have accomplished without illness?

Harmony, health, and happiness,

Margin | 天涯