i was not built to be nonchalant: an essay on caring
"I’ll take it over the mask, or being someone who walks the world without caring for anyone or anything else."
The story begins with a child who learnt to pack themselves down into a teeny box: shoulders hunched, personality dimmed. That learnt to camouflage differently in front of every different group of people, and had no real idea who they were underneath it all (and sometimes still doesn’t).
They grew into a teenager who’s brain burnt out on the mask so hard it spilled over, manifesting as panic attacks and meltdowns - one, then another, then one a day, then two.
Ten months later, they found themselves locked in a psychiatric unit that pushed them to be even smaller and taught them that they did not deserve to burn brighter; that they must fit the system in order to be released from it.
But it would also be the system that would give them the first knowledge of why their brain was the way it was: one that made the world too bright and too loud, their brain too fast, their interests so deep it sometimes hurt.
I was, quite literally, not built to be nonchalant. My mind runs at a hundred miles per hour, plugged into a different song every few moments. It processes every single noise, smell, visual element in a space before I can begin to process them. Away from the mask, there is no part of me that wants to lean in on a lack of care for anything.
I want to debate every point someone makes, whether I agree or not, and I want to know every scrap of knowledge there is on almost any topic I come across. The idea that someone could not care for politics used to confuse me: now, I understand it from an academic perspective, but never quite will get it emotionally.
When I say I want to consume all the books and films, I don’t mean consume as in the passive, content-focused way that society has begun to use it for where it undermines the effort to make them; I mean letting it consume me, all-fire.
My need for consistency and sameness means I watch the same show or film over and over again; it being too overwhelming to start another. My pattern recognition means I will pull out different details every single watch. If they become wired into a special interest or hyperfixation, it is all I will be able to focus on, across social media, fanfiction, and discussions with my poor friends (note: I’d love to know the % of fanfiction writers and consumers who are neurodivergent).
My shelves are full of endless books that I may never get to but bought in a fit of deep care of the topic, with no foresight that there are not enough hours in a day, a week, a year. I am obsessed with Storygraph and Letterboxd and I get ready for bed waiting for it to turn 9pm for the next episode of whatever reality TV show has sucked me in for the moment.
I care about my friends as if it is my own life - their hurt and sadness cuts as much as my own. I grew up not understanding why I would feel empathy for the last can of beans on a shelf, as if it had been left alone, or made sure none of my teddies fell off my bed (god forbid, they thought I didn’t love them as much).
I refuse to be embarrassed about any of it anymore. I turn 25 in a few months, and it feels like everyone wants me to suddenly only care about building a family or buying a house or climbing the (for me, non-existent) corporate ladder.
There is more than one reason I refuse that. I refuse to go against the way I am built: for deep dives, fixations that wax and wane, gorgeous sensory input and caring. so. deeply. I refuse to lean into anything that pushes me into the shape of a cookie cutter, the way I made myself until I left school that made me so very unwell; that made me hate myself and the world around me.
But I also refuse to become part of the systems that are trying to push us that way even when it is not for us. I am not just a worker bee, and refuse to make my focus only on money. I refuse to allow amatonormativity1 to rule me - if a relationship and a family comes to me, that’s cool, but it isn’t a priority for me the way it might be for others (who are, of course, just as valid).
I want us to stop believing that not caring is better. We should care about other people, we should care about politics, we should care about the rest of the world and the climate and about intersections we do not live.
And we should let ourselves love what we love - allow ourselves to not feel like we ‘become an adult’ and that’s the end of caring about a TV show so deeply you’re still up reading the lore on Wikipedia at 2am, or that romance books are embarrassing, or that watching Love Island with your mates is suddenly not a good use of time (yeah, okay, there are plenty of things that would *technically* be a better use of time, but the idea that we should always be doing something academic or productive or money-making is capitalism, baby!).
Sometimes, the way I care, feel, and process is debilitating. I have meltdowns, panic attacks, and shutdowns because of it regularly, I experience suicidality and am heartbroken over what for many people may be small. I heal slowly, and need more support than many to do so. I get easily angry if people “don’t get” something, and my involvement in politics and advocacy regularly burns me out and leaves me completely overwhelmed.
But I think, nowadays, that I would always take that over being pushed into boxes, forcing myself to shut up, or never getting involved with anything. I’ll take it over the mask, or being someone who walks the world without caring for anyone or anything else.
I’ll forgive myself for the times when I have to pull back and make sure I look after myself. I’ll allow myself to hyperfixate and forget the world exists for a while as I read thousands of words of my favourite characters in every different universe. I’ll cherish just as deeply the people in my life, even if that means I might get burnt at the end.
And I’ll continue to get tattoos for characters that touched me deeply and songs that got me through difficult periods. I’ll write long blog posts for no money about books and films and reality shows. I’ll continue to work out how to process the world, even though it hurts a lot of the time.
I was not built for nonchalance. Were any of us, really?
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This refers to a term by Elizabeth Brake, meaning the ‘widespread assumption that everyone is better off in an exclusive, romantic, long-term coupled relationship, and that everyone is seeking such a relationship’.
oh I love this so much. I relate intensely, especially to the panic attacks and breakdown experience as a result of forcing myself into unnatural shapes for too long. last year I was having two or more panic attacks every day, and it was this that spurred me to seek out an autism diagnosis (assessment coming up soon 😬), so it's a relief to hear that someone else has experienced something similar. and the acute empathy really hit me! I've been asked recently if I even feel empathy as part of this assessment process, and I don't just feel it, I embody it – it becomes part of me and it feels like I'm shattering. thank you for your honesty with this essay, it really touched me <3
I love this. I didn't start unpacking all my interests until deep into my thirties -- and now I am all in on the fangirling, the shipping, the JOY. Life is too short to suppress all of that.