🌙👑 Isilrina - Unveiled 👑🌙

Happy Art Monday! This drawing serves as the second part of the Isilrina diptych, representing the concealed side of myself that remained hidden from the world until last year. "Masking," a coping mechanism prevalent among non-neurotypical individuals, becomes a means of self-protection in an unsupportive environment. Only a select few were privy to this concealed facet until now – trusted individuals with whom I could authentically be myself, free from societal expectations. It resulted in many burn-outs along the years until I finaly decided to put down the mask for good. Now I'm only showing this unveiled side of me when I meet new people so they know what to expect. Because I realized it isn't real friendship if people are only friends with your mask.

It took me a long time to realize that but I think I had to come to terms with not being able to be friend with everyone, before I understood this. And, looking back at it, in the end, it is a relief, because I also realized I had spend so many energy and years of my life trying to fit in other people's idea of friendships that didn't aligned with mine, and I can never get that time back either for myself or for the people I care for. In the end, I'm incredibly thankful for those who embraced and accepted me without judgment during this journey, and for those who helped me recognize and understand my ADHD.

My mom clocked me having adhd before teachers ever did.

I only got an official diagnosis at age 7, but my mom was already positive I was some kind of not neurotypical by the time I started pre-K.

Like, there’s only so many times your 4 year old can get in trouble at school for the exact same things (being bad at switching activities, not paying attention/being on task, fidgeting, getting up and leaving seat when not supposed to, can’t follow instructions) before it starts to look clinical.

Me being in trouble at school was the norm. It was just how school was. I was a 5 year old who woke up in the morning with the knowledge that I’d at least have to change my color card from green to yellow at some point that day.

In pre-school having to sit in time out because I’d stubbornly insist on not changing task with the other kids was just another part of the routine (and honestly preferable to me at that point).

And in those years before diagnosis punishment from my teachers often wasn’t distressing or even irritating. Just normal.

I ended up in the principal’s office on my first day of pre-school. So getting punished at school could never be something abnormal to me. It was just part of my typical school day up until 1st grade.

When school became more than basically playing games and nap time with learning words and numbers also thrown in there. When classwork became interesting enough to actually start to hold my attention more than my classmates or my own thoughts did.

Do you have any weird childhood memories, like truly odd but really insignificant, things that made no sense then and still don’t but didn’t really affect the trajectory of your life?

I ask because I love this stuff but also because I remember my elementary school library had a yellow Peep bunny sitting on top of the doorframe the entire time I went to school there. Above it hung the clock. And it just sat there, an actual yellow marshmallow bunny peep like from an Easter basket, and I remember sitting there glancing up from playing Oregon Trail on computer day or listening to the librarian talk about the Dewey decimal system and wondering who put it there, why, and if I could still eat it

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

It's always infuriated me hearing people say that children have it easy. It's only gotten worse as I've gotten older and have been able to reflect on my childhood and see the children around me grow up.

They do not have it easy. They don't get a say in most important things. They're seen is unintelligent, yet expected to understand things that full grown adults struggle with.

They've got a job, which is school, that is actually proven to not be working for a lot of them; myself included. They're expected to sit still and in silence for at least forty minutes at a time, and those with ADHD are treated as though they're immature and lazy because they often physically can't do it.

Far too many of them have abusive parents that lie through their teeth to make people think everything is fine, and of course, who would believe the child over the parent?

Aspects of abuse has been normalised. Parents are sympathised with when children open up about the things they've gone through, especially if they're not physical. They're told that their parents are only doing this because they love them, or that the child needs to start seeing things from their point of view. Meanwhile, adults can freely complain about their children on public forums and to friends and family and get away with it because "it's hard being a parent".

Fuck off and do better.

DNI Believers of narcissistic/borderline/anti-social/histrionic abuse.

Has anyone else just straight up not been happy since they were 12

On Isolation

and if I said that dennis’ insistence on being the breadwinner/provider despite literally being a pampered princess who dgaf about traditional roles of masculinity in every other regard (aside from ego) is because his mom only stayed with/chose frank for his wealth and dennis is highly aware that he’s difficult to love and unable to show his emotions openly so he has to be contributing something to the relationship materially in order to feel like he’s worth staying for… and mac grew up with parents who were extremely ambivalent to him and eachother so he has to overcompensate by proving his worth at every given moment and seeking praise/validation from people (and religious icons) who will never demonstrate the same amount of dedication to him but he has no idea how else to desperately keep himself close to those he loves other than by eroding himself into something they’ll approve of… dear god they’re both exactly what the other needs — someone who can’t and won’t leave them even if they try — and they don’t even see it…

The way that Percy used to be my biggest literary crush, but now he is my son WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUTSIDE PUT ON A JACKET OH MY GOD PERSEUS PLEASE DON'T FIGHT THAT THING

🌙👑 Isilrina - Shrouded 👑🌙

Happy Art Monday! Isilrina is my artist name, but it originated as a high school nickname bestowed upon me by friends who, like me, were avid "Lord of The Rings" enthusiasts. It is Elvish for "Moon Crown" (or "Moon Crowned"), and I aimed to capture that essence in this piece. This drawing is the first part of a diptych—a two-piece artwork that narrates a story. While each drawing can stand alone, their true depth unfolds when they are experienced together. In contemplating whether to post them separately or as a pair, I reflected on the creative process. Despite being drawn separately, both pieces demanded an equal investment of time (roughly 8 hours each). Ultimately, I decided to share them individually, respecting their separate journeys. Interestingly, for the narrative's sake, this one is considered the first, even though I created the other one before completing this piece. The second layer of meaning delves into the concept of how we present ourselves to the world. It took me 36 years to comprehend where did my differences from most kids (and later, people) come from, leading me to adopt a certain facade to ward off bullying and teasing. This act of concealing oneself is referred to as "masking," a heavy draining coping mechanism frequently employed by non-neurotypical individuals in a society that is still not ready to accommodate them, despite them being key to survival before society as we know it was even created. This drawing embodies the face I presented to the world for many years, concealing my true self. The full diptych reflects the journey of self-discovery and the realization that it's perfectly acceptable to embrace one's authentic identity. Eventually, you will find your tribe, those who accept you for who you truly are. If people don't, it's their loss and your gain. More time to spend with people who accept you for who you truly are.

You know what is just mind boggling? Neurotypical people exist. Like there are people who can just DO things and not have depression, anxiety (in every form ever), RSD, sensory overloads, and not get overwhelmed. Like there are people who can work for eight hours every day and still do things after. People who can make phone calls with no struggle. Who aren't constantly bombarded by a cacophony of thoughts both good and bad when they do things. Who have anxiety but it isn't crippling. who can spend hours, WEEKS with people and not get tired or fear that everyone there hates you. People who have no idea what Depression or intense trauma feel like. People who hear instructions and do it right first go. People who can follow a conversation without zoning out, or having to mask.

Like. Do neurotypical people actually exist?

Because I can't even imagine what it would be like to be neurotypical. Or mentally healthy. Both sound alien and foren. But like. Obviously they exist because neurodivergent people wouldn't struggle so much if not for how the world was structured for Neurotypical people but I don't know if I've ever met a neurotypical.

idk. food for thought I guess.

Failure to meet expectations because of your disability is not your failure it's theirs.

Even if you didn't know you were sick/disabled yet.

my hot dunmeshi take is that not every character is autistic

.........bc there are other flavors of neurodivergency that fit some of them better ✌️