"Why do you always write about yourself?"
"Narcissistic much?!"
Actually, it has been officially determined: NO. Naturally I exist on that spectrum, like all humans do. But sorry to disappoint everybody who has accused me of that (several of whom legit have been diagnosed with NPD…huh…fascinating how that works…projection much?!) But my current trauma therapist and I spent many, many—inhaaaale…many exhaustive months last year doing intense rounds of testing to determine my varied diagnoses.
Nope. Not a narcissist. No other personality disorders. No schizophrenia or bipolar—the other one I’ve been accused of a lot. Not even terribly codependent anymore. Just the C-PTSD and TBIs we already knew about, and Autism with a nice slathering of ADHD.
Funny story. As I was making the slideshow for my mom’s memorial, I got to see the photos of myself as a kid for the first time since gaining that understanding. Holy crapdoms, I look at my facial expressions and oddball postures before I learned to mask (enough), and all I can do is shake my head.
Sheesh, kid. No wonder closed-minded, clueless, judgy, unhappy people took one look at you and were all, “REE! REE! REE! Alien alert! Destroy it! Or at least ostracize it! REE! REE! REE!”
Anyway, here I am again. Writing about myself.
Know why?
The saying goes:
“If you’ve met one autistic person…well, then you’ve met one autistic person.”
The same is true of brain injury.
The same is true of PTSD and any of these other conditions.
Seeing as how I am not a mental health practitioner, a neurologist, a physical therapist or any other type of medical professional, a lawyer, or a social worker, I do not feel terribly qualified to give you advice or write listicles telling you what you should do about your *insert condition or situation here.*
Instead, I tell you about my own experiences with the confidence that you’ll be able to gain a deeper understanding of somebody who is not you, and thus:
Gain a deeper level of compassion.
Gain compassion you completely lacked because you were ignorant of situations like mine until you read my story.
Scroll on or unsubscribe if you find me annoying, vexing, or otherwise intolerable to read.
Make a comment and start a conversation with me.
Acquire knowledge you didn’t have before.
Feel less alone because your situation is similar to mine.
Follow the gazillion links that pepper my posts to varied generous professionals who have written or spoken authoritatively about the topics I cover from my personal, intimate standpoint.
Extrapolate any useful tidbits you could apply to your life either by watching what worked for me, or by pointing and laughing—okay, no. (Okay, maybe.) By watching me fall flat on my face or get my ass kicked and then pick myself back up to try again.
Yes. I have confidence in the people who are truly My Kind of Readers that y’all don’t need—and especially don’t want—me to tell you what I think you should do about your life.
On the rare occasion I do write listicles, I generally write them about the things I do to alleviate my pain-points and follow my dreams with the understanding that, if you find them useful, or if they give you new ideas, if they remind you of tools you’d once used and forgotten about…whatever. If they help you, too…
AWESOMESAUCE.
But I don’t know the ins and outs of your situation. I don’t know all the nuances of your personality and preferences. So to tell you what you “should” do?
“Well…why are you so focused on yourself? Why don’t you tell other people’s stories, too?”
I’ve offered. Nobody has taken me up on that yet.
Want me to tell your story because you’re not a storyteller? Because you’re totally a writer but blabbing about your situation would blow your world apart? Because you just can’t seem to get it out in words?
Pitch me.
You never know how I might answer. Especially if you catch me at a time when I’m not completely overloaded like I am right now.
In the meanwhile, all I have is the topic that I, and I alone on this planet, am an expert on: MY LIFE, and what I’ve learned from it. What I am currently learning from it. What I’m struggling to learn. What I really wish I could catch the clue-bus about.
Best I got.
Don’t like these stories about me?
THERE’S THA DOOR THXXXX.
I mean, you could silence all your notifications except for the Fiction Section where I totally write about people who are not me, if you really, really just can’t stand not having me in your inbox and stalking my words. Otherwise…with straight-up peace and love…
© 2025 Hartebeast
I think it was David Foster Wallace who said something to effect of, (I am definitely paraphrasing): “we should be excused for feeling like the world revolves around us, after all, from behind our eyes it really seems like it does”.
For a while I worried about writing about myself all the time. But eventually, I came to the conclusion that, for me, it’s only true thing I can write about. I mean, I don’t want to write “you” stuff and preach to people I don’t know about what I think they should do. And I don’t want to write “we” stuff because I know everyone’s experiences are different and I don’t want to speak for others. And I definitely don’t want to write about any sort of ‘facts’ or ‘truths’ or ‘theories’ because I’m doubtful of all of them to some degree or another. So in the end, I realised all that was left was for me to talk about my experiences, and trust that my readers would be able to gleam their own lessons from my experiences if those experiences were relatable or similar to things they’ve gone through. And so, yeah, my long winded point is please please please — keep writing about you! Because I for one, like it :)
To quote a very wise person in my life, "An accusation is the closest thing you'll get to a confession from a narcissist."
Yanno, an *actual* one.