‘I Met a Strange Fella…’ and ‘The Definition of Nothing’ 

I Met a Strange Fella…

Collin was wandering amongst the forest when he bumped into his friend Gavin. 

Gavin is small and round, he is green and covered in darker green spots. He has two exceptionally large eyes and can jump faster and higher than anyone else Collin has met. Gavin is a frog. 

“G’day Collin! I was wondering if you could help me with something”

“Of course,” responded Collin, he is always happy to help a friend. 

“I met a strange fella the other day and was wondering if you could help me find him” 

“Absolutely! What does he look like?” 

Collin grabbed a stick and moved closer to a mud puddle so he could draw what this “strange fella” looked like. 

“Well…” began Gavin. “He did not have any fur and he wasn’t a cat so he could not purr” 

“He did not have claws, nor did he have any paws. 

He could not jump or climb and wasn’t covered in slime. 

He did not have a bill or beak nor did he have any webbed feet.

He didn’t have wings so he definitely couldn’t fly. I also don’t recall if I ever saw him cry.”

With nothing drawn on his little mud puddle, Collin wondered if such a thing could exist when Gavin wasn’t describing anything at all. 

“He didn’t have toes and he didn’t have a nose I suppose. 

He didn’t have an ear or antlers like deer. 

He had no trunk and didn’t smell like a skunk.

He did not have scales, tails or nails, nor did he have a shell like a snail’s. 

He could not slither like a snake nor did he look particularly awake.

He-”

“OK! I get it” interrupted Collin. Still wanting to be helpful Collin asked, “How about you tell me where you saw him instead” 

Gavin nodded. 

“Well… we did not meet by the pool nor near a school. 

I didn’t see him near waves, in caves or at raves. 

I did not see him in June, on the moon, or in the afternoon.

I did not see him in a saloon or at a lagoon and we did not meet during a monsoon or typhoon. 

To tell you the truth Collin I didn’t see him here, there or anywhere!”

“Gavin!” Collin exclaimed. 

“Gavin, I am starting to wonder if you met anyone or anything at all!”

“Oh but I did Collin, I really did! I just really want to see him again and I really need your help!”

“But Gavin, you have only told me what he isn’t. How am I supposed to know who someone is when you have said nothing about them?”…

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The Definition of Nothing

When something is defined by what it isn’t, the thing itself cannot be anything. 

Plain and simple. 

If you have read my last post you will know that the DSM uses a deficit language model, similar to how Gavin was trying to describe that “strange fella” he met. 

It becomes understandable why there is a misunderstanding when it comes to neurotypes such as ADHD and Autism when they are defined by what they aren’t. The reality of someone’s diagnostic state (or the definition of these neurotypes) comes down to how you interpret an abstract concept such as nothingness in the context of brain processing. 

When you’re defined by your deficits it’s hard to know who you actually are, as you’re only ever describing the absence of something. 

How can something be nothing? 

Short answer; It can’t.

When you define something by the absence of something you end up with a defined space of nothing. And what is nothing in society’s eyes if not worthlessness? 

If you think this is dramatic here is a statement from Bruno Bettleheim, just one of the men who “aided” in the research of autism in the 1960’s;

“Infants, if totally deserted by humans before they have developed enough to shift for themselves, will die. And if their physical care is enough for survival but they are deserted emotionally, or are pushed beyond capacity to cope, they will become autistic.”

The Empty Fortress, 1967

To summarise what Bettleheim just said; Autistic people are closer to being a lifeless human than a living one.

If people describe you by your deficits they aren’t describing anything at all. Which I find mildly comforting. Yet the issue with this, however, is that it is almost impossible for anyone to grasp the concept of nothingness. 

You can’t describe it because it isn’t anything at all. You can’t visualise nothing because the very act of visualising involves something. 

To our brains, nothingness doesn’t exist. In fact, the very word “nothingness” is an oxymoron because the suffix “ness” describes either a state, condition, or quality. Nothingness can not be any of these things because that would make it a state, condition or quality. It would make it something.

So when we describe the nothingness of someone, aka the deficits, our brain cannot think of nothing. Because we know a human being is something. A human being is more than just an abstract concept, it is a real tangible, 3-dimensional thing. It would then be even more impossible for someone to see a 3-dimensional thing and attribute nothingness to it. 

To compensate for this we exchange the nothingness into something so we can have something to visualise. Subconsciously this exchange can seem like we are using synonyms but this couldn’t be less accurate as it is a completely subjective exchange. Often the language remains at a deficit. Someone who lacks executive functioning becomes someone who is lazy and just doesn’t try hard enough, and someone who lacks understanding of (your) social skills becomes rude and unkind.  

Shifting the focus away from neurodiversity for a moment. When we look at the LGBTQIA+ community, being asexual is defined by the lack of sexual attraction (in one form or the other). It can sound normal for an asexual to say “I don’t feel sexual attraction” but you wouldn’t hear a gay person say “I don’t have straightness”. Because being gay is not defined by the lack of something. “I don’t have straightness” is technically correct, it just sounds really stupid. I’m using this example to highlight how stupid it can sound for someone to be described as what they aren’t but also to note how hard it can be to find an alternative non-deficit-based description. 

I want to make it clear that there doesn’t have to be a replacement term or definition for every I don’t, I can’t, I lack, I struggle statements, because they do have their place. 

“I can’t ride a bike” makes perfect sense but “I can’t” in the context of a human being in abstract terms, such as their brain style, it becomes harder and harder to understand what something is. Especially when we aren’t even dealing with absolutes like “Can’t”. Words such as “lack” and “struggle” have a lot more nuance which is completely subjective to every individual. 

And what about those times the diagnostic criteria makes reference to something outside what it has given you. Words such as “abnormal” without a description of its specific meaning in that context, doesn’t actually refer to anything at all. It instead refers to a metaphorical blank piece of paper for you to write your own description of what “abnormal” is. No wonder my diagnostic state would be different depending on who I saw. Even words like “struggle” invoke that blank page to be filled out by the individual or in this case, the assessor. 

When we feel low it can often be described as empty (nothing) and when we are feeling our best it can often be described as full (something). So much of neurodivergent diagnostic criteria is reliant on that empty, nothingness, so when you go from being mentally unwell to mentally healthy it can feel like the better you get the less attached to that diagnosis and therefore community, that you feel. This is exactly what I have experienced.

As I mentioned last week, if an autistic person is seen as happy they are seen as no longer autistic, it has meant that my journey of bettering my mental health this year has been rather hard because (post-diagnosis) as I got better the more imposter syndrome I felt about both of my diagnoses. It’s almost as if my good mental state has had a ceiling put over it. I can only get so happy before I begin to doubt myself again, I dip low, pick myself back up again, and hit my head on the self-doubt ceiling, only to dip low again.

Referring back to that statement from Bettleheim, you can really see just how far back this idea of emptiness being synonymous with nothingness in the context of neurodivergent people goes. And if fullness is synonymous with human, emptiness becomes non-human. To be neurodivergent (at least on an institutional level) is to be non-human. 

It is very important that we all check what we think of when thinking of nothing because it never is nothing. What are you trading nothing for? 

To conclude; to define nothing, is to define what nothing isn’t as nothing cannot be defined… because it is nothing. 

I think I’ve driven my point home hard enough. 

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I also wanted to include a link to one of my favourite videos on autism. Alexander Avila’s video “Tiktok Gave Me Autism: The Politics of Self-diagnosis” does a wonderful job of criticising the history of mental illness, madness and social construction. It is 70 minutes long so I do apologise to my fellow ADHDers as it may be difficult (or extremely easy if you can hyperfixate on it) to watch in one sitting. In that case, I would recommend watching at least from 13:00 – 48:20 which I realize is still half an hour but it is worth it if you want to learn more about neurodivergence or mental health.

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