Divergent Mind

Up until this point, it has been extremely rare for me to read a book that is about, or includes, extreme sound and visual sensitivity (SPD) in adults. A variety sounds and sights cause me debilitating pain and overwhelm. I was able to navigate the world until smart phones, ever-changing LED billboards, and relentless digital ads* took over the world. Now the overstimulation is too much. I appreciate that Divergent Mind spoke to these sensory challenges at various times.

I could be diagnosed with a plethora of neurodivergent labels in addition to verifiable physical differences (my S shaped spine certainly plays a role in my sensory differences). Yet, there isn't a single label that brings me a sense of relief and belonging that many people say they feel upon diagnosis or self-understanding. If there isn't a spiritual component—a grander sense of life beyond societal constructs—then it just doesn't resonate with me.

I do believe (or hope with all my being) that consciousness is rising and that mental health awareness is acting as a gateway to a reconnection with spirit—in whatever ways that looks like for people. As we continue to tout mental health support, it will likely not fill the hollowness in many people's hearts... Science isn't the end all and be all. It does not hold all of the answers. It is a tool, a method of inquiry. We can all be scientists in our lives.

I surrender to the mystery and seek to embody love.

Side note: I can understand the criticisms of this book as explained in many other reviews.

*I can no longer watch NHL or CFL games on TV because I have to work too hard at trying to find the game amongst the changing digital ads that take up the boards and that are on the field. It's not just an annoyance, it causes me pain and migraines. Capitalism, I tell ya. Remember when watching the game was the medium for connection?

I wanted to like this book. I wanted to say that it was helpful in my life as a late-diagnosed autistic person. But it wasn't.

This book is geared towards late-diagnosed autistic women who are able to have a “normal” job, given sufficient sensory and social accommodations. (I'm not a woman, but since I spent my first 18 years of my life perceived in all my offline social spheres as a girl, my experiences from then are more like late-diagnosed autistic women's than late-diagnosed autistic men's.) I am unable to work, and so I found the suggestions largely irrelevant to my life.

I kept reading in hopes that the author might criticize the idea of productivity as one that harms disabled people whether they're like me or not, but such criticism never came. I found the author's treatment of the problems that undiagnosed autistic women experience at the hands of psychiatry lacking, especially with respect to race. Unmasking is something that has many more risks for autistic Black women and autistic women of color than for autistic white women.

The author's passing endorsement of training cops about ways autistic traits can look like disobedience feels especially ignorant, given the amount of young autistic Black men and women who have been arrested or assaulted by police who knew they were autistic. If this book were published prior to the Black Lives Matter movement's founding rather than in 2020, I might have let that slide. But it has become common knowledge in autistic advocacy that training cops about autism hasn't resulted in cops treating Black autistic people any better.

I'm frustrated by this book. It contains a lot of suggestions that are probably very helpful for autistic people who do work “normal” jobs, for making their workspace more comfortable. This book wasn't the book I thought it would be.