This book was maybe a bit of an odd read for me because I wasn't sure what to expect, and then after reading it, I wasn't sure how to apply what I'd read because it was sort of a hodgepodge of perspectives for a variety of apparent purposes. Some of the chapters described theory; some described case studies and examples; some seemed like personal narratives/biographies; some seemed like guidelines for teachers and therapists. Most of the stuff that interested me was anecdotal presentations of people having experiences that were similar to what I've dealt with for most of my life, and it was valuable to see those experiences translated into more technical language and put into place in a web of understanding, acknowledging that people who are gifted in some way or another tend to exhibit one or more "overexcitabilities"--and contrary to many traditional theories, these overexcitabilities are not a liability to be managed, extinguished, or explained away as mental disorders a person must work past to become productive and fulfilled.
I appreciated seeing this acknowledged, and though I tend to shy away from theories that conceptualize personality development in "levels" (since that subtly encourages people to actively try to achieve higher levels with the perception that climbing onto the next platform is a goal in and over itself, while I think it's more useful to observe personality evolution in retrospect), I do like that the theory of positive disintegration presents life's frustrations and setbacks as ultimately useful in moving forward. I never liked seeing life as a series of ups and downs, and with this theory, I think we can acknowledge the ups and downs in a spiral upwards rather than a horizontally undulating line. As the disintegrations happen and we build ourselves back up from them, we're still going "up" even if from our perspective we might backslide during a disintegration. (It certainly feels like it when you're at a low point.) But disintegration as described in this book does seem useful and sometimes necessary for becoming more of what you want to be.
I don't think I ever fully internalized the overall message of this book, which I guess is fine because it's pretty disparate sometimes so I don't know that there WAS "one" message, and though I don't know how applicable some of this information really will be to my life, I did think it was a special book that contained valuable insights. I connected most to the anecdotes and examples of gifted people dealing with various external reactions and internal pressures, and since the book was full of stuff-that-made-me-think-of-other-stuff, I decided my review would be best completed by sharing where I related. But first, some general observations:
1. I liked that the book said therapy should not exist to "cure" people. That's so aggressive, I think--this idea that people need to go to therapy and get themselves fixed, rather than learning to control their lives and obtain what they desire. It's to give people coping mechanisms, insight, and tools. Not to coercively retrain them to be something else.
2. One chapter pointed out that there's a tendency to assume people have lost their minds when they're trying to develop their true selves. Change, especially drastic change, is usually interpreted by outsiders as a negative thing, even if the person it's happening to (or who's making it happen) conceives it as positive or necessary. I thought that observation was clever.
3. The idea and question sheets were cool.
4. One thing I wasn't a fan of was the suggestions given for what adults should say to kids with overexcitabilities. I didn't need to hear the things they suggested adults say, and to be honest would have found them condescending. Though I guess if nobody else in your life was acknowledging your experiences, it might be more helpful.
5. I like that it's mentioned that some adults think all disintegrative states are negative and may push for normativity, as will one's peers. It's true!
6. Great point that stress comes both from the environment and from inside the self. I relate to that one a LOT.
7. I appreciate that in the chapter featuring exploration of spirituality, the text does not assume that being intelligent or "gifted" means you will logically come to the conclusion that there is no God. I don't personally believe in a God and my experiences with spirituality aren't religious, but I think it's a shame when people are dubbed delusional or less capable if their religious beliefs are central in their lives (unless those religious beliefs lead them to hurting others). I've explored some spiritual paths that led to altered states of consciousness and some transcendent perspectives, but I don't pretend to have conclusively determined the nature of reality from these. I just like that they aren't written off as unimportant or excluded as a route to personal growth.
And now for my own perspectives and anecdotes:
1. Maslow's hierarchy of needs is mentioned in this book a couple times. I remember studying it in college and having the teacher ask us to write an essay on which level in the hierarchy we thought we'd achieved. I immediately assumed claiming the "highest" level (self-actualization) would sound self-important and that the teacher would laugh at the idea of a college kid who thinks she knows herself already, so my essay was kind of preemptively defensive, examining the other levels and describing how I felt they had been satisfied in my life. My teacher returned my paper with comments in the margin saying she thought there was no doubt I was right, so I guess I didn't need to worry. Based on what this book says about self-actualization, I've probably been in a self-actualized state since I was pretty young.
2. Tying into the above, I remember an episode that was probably some kind of disintegration when I was in middle school. I was depressed--at least, the closest someone like me probably could get to depressed, but I didn't really talk about it--and I'd had a series of very bad experiences in school, followed by a scary time when my sister was being tested for potential glaucoma and I was freaking out worrying about her. And for some reason while I was wallowing in that--literally lying on my bedroom floor--I had this weird moment of clarity where I decided that I would give myself permission to be who I wanted to be. To leave behind the things I didn't like and didn't want to be from that point on and then just act like I was already the person I wanted to be for the rest of my life. I have no idea what prompted it, but I remember it very clearly. I was 12 or 13, I guess.
3. After the above incident, I didn't focus on myself much at all--I had no intentional focus on changing who I was for the better. I still had goals and aspirations, but I thought about other people a lot and what kind of help or attention they might need. I didn't want to abandon them or write them off just because they didn't have all their needs met or didn't know how to love themselves. Something I heard a lot during that time was that I had a lot of friends that were "losers." I gravitated toward people who needed a friend. Some interpreted this as a show of pity. Some interpreted this as if I was so desperate for companionship (no, I wasn't) that I would "lower" myself to hanging out with misfits, and therefore I was a misfit myself. I thought the whole idea was silly and just continued to be nice to people who were nice to me and who had needs that weren't being met. I've had mixed results with this throughout my life, though. Some people have become lifelong friends and others with serious problems that I couldn't "solve" reacted by taking advantage of me. It's a little hit or miss, but I don't think I'd have it any other way.
4. There's a bit in the book where the discussion of overexcitabilities led to conceptualizing gifted young people's anxiety over choosing a direction for their lives. I experienced this very distinctly. I had a lot of interests and passions, and adored being active in vocal music, visual art, and all sorts of writing. I eventually figured out that I CAN "do it all," but I probably CAN'T "do it all" professionally, and had to choose which to pursue, balancing between passion and realistic attainability. I eventually concluded that I tend to write about everything and that writing is the most natural conduit of my expression, while the other arts are just things I enjoy doing. In other words, I write about music and art sometimes, but I don't tend to make art about music or writing and I don't tend to make music about art or writing. Writing is the default. So I became a writer. A writer who draws webcomics and sings karaoke. Ya know.
5. When overexcitabilities were examined in detail in Chapter 3, I immediately thought about how adults gaslighted me when I was younger, though I didn't stop trusting my own internal sense of the reality, but I still began to know what to expect and still felt bad about it. And then the book literally echoed things adults would say to me, like "you're too sensitive." This kind of thing would happen when I didn't want to look at eyeballs or veins, or I didn't like the pressure of putting a heavy bag on my wrist and would insist on trying to carry it in less practical ways that didn't cause the discomfort, only to get yelled at as if I was being difficult for no other reason than to cause someone else some grief. Being scolded for feeling a certain way is apparently very common among people with overexcitabilities.
6. I really liked that the overexcitability examination of sensual experiences mentions that children are not trying to manipulate anyone by needing what they need. It drove me up the wall when adults thought I was saying what I needed out of desire to control them, and I especially disliked the implication that really my desires were dishonesty and simple rebellion. I actually felt really hurt by that (and kind of continue to feel hurt by that) when people suggest my expressed feelings are REALLY expressed for the purpose of hurting or reacting to THEM.
7. The book says gifted kids are often baffled by how other kids can be cruel, and are often interpreted as lonely even if they're not (just because they're more often alone). This is pretty much me. I have to say I preferred not to be around other people--not just because they were jackasses, either--and that cruelty was less of an individual hurt and more of a deep shock of "how the HELL can someone deliberately do this to someone else?"
8. I relate to the discussion of competitive behavior. I like competition and find it to be a good motivator, but I absolutely hated how people reacted if I beat them. It made me want to either not win or downplay the enjoyment of winning if I did. I got cut during tennis team tryouts because of stuff like this in high school--going easy on my opponent when she got super upset, and then letting her think she'd won when I'd already beaten her, etc. You know, only to find out that the scores she reported "counted" and I got cut because of it.
9. I like that the intersection of mental illness and giftedness was explored. Especially since lots of people interpret me as a perfectionist or as under a lot of stress--potentially to pathological levels. When I was a little kid I cried during a reading test because the introductory material had markings over the vowels that I'd never seen before. (They were to help new readers with long vs. short vowel sounds, but I was unfamiliar with them, thought it was some kind of trick or advanced notation, and got judged as having both extreme test anxiety and as reading at a rudimentary level.) Sometimes reactions we have are interpreted as extreme because those interpreting us don't actually know what's going on on a different level, and so they default to assuming it's a more traditional inability to handle a situation, or immaturity, or lack of ability. Since mental illnesses and anxiety and whatnot CAN coexist with giftedness, it takes a nuanced exploration and a patient evaluator to appropriately diagnose and interpret. Most of us are not fortunate enough to have folks with these skills controlling our education.
10. I related very much to the discussion of anxiety and conflict between real self vs. ideal self being an impetus to attain progress forward, as well as how disagreements are framed as the push a person might need to learn. I experience this all the time, and have become a better activist and a better writer because of having disagreements or experiencing conflict within myself.
11. I haaaaated being told that the intensity, duration, or frequency of something I enjoyed or something I felt was inappropriate. Hey you, stop feeling incorrectly! I can't even count the number of times I was told my reactions were exaggerated or that my response was concocted for sympathy or attention. And if I acted like being accused of such things hurt, that was "acting" and not genuine either. Like if I would be reading something and I laughed out loud, someone would respond to me as if I must have been making noise to get attention so I could be asked what I was laughing about and have the opportunity to talk to someone about it. The idea that my reaction was for someone else's benefit, to elicit someone else's attention, was really gross to me. I was certainly capable of saying "oh hey let me share this with you" if I wanted to, and I don't know why people thought if I had a reaction, it must have been a performance to make them pay attention to me or something.
12. There's a bit in the book where they discuss holding oneself to really high standards. Yeah, that's me. I definitely used to complicate tasks on purpose so they'd be interesting. A couple examples: In college I took a music class I was required to take for my major even though there was no way I actually needed to take it. We were asked to write songs to help kids learn things, and though the requirements of the assignment only asked us to teach to a certain standard curriculum item, I would do fancy things like write piano parts and include multiple verses and versions so the song could be used for several different grade levels, simplifying it or complicating it as necessary. (Like, I wrote a song about the planets, and each planet had its own whole verse, but if you just wanted an overview of the planets, the first line of each planet's verse could be combined into a separate all-planets song, and regardless of which you used, the stanzas would rhyme.) I had to do stuff like that to make it worth doing, I thought, since the actual requirements were boring. And in middle school, we had to make a world map and label a minimum of certain physical features. I labeled like a bajillion of them for fun, and then actually got marked down for a misspelling on a river even though I had exceeded the requirement fulfilled of X number of rivers. I felt like my teacher was trying to teach me a lesson for "showing off" or something because I didn't just do the minimum, so she had to mark me down on something. I tried to contest it and my teacher just said I should have spent more time doing the project right than doing more items with less accuracy. It made me really angry.
13. One of the chapters opens with quotes that have been said to people with overexcitabilities: "You have so much energy!" "I can't believe how much you do!" "Don't you ever slow down?" Welcome to my life. People talk about these aspects of my habits as if I'm hurting myself with these aspirations, and how even when I feel like I'm not very productive, I'm still doing more than the average person. My standards are really sky high and I hate when I don't meet them, but then I sound like a jerk complaining because other people don't do on a good day what I do on a bad one in some cases. And talking about it makes them treat me like I'm saying this because I want to brag. It's complicated.
14. There's a bit in the book about feeling that you have to hide what's different about you and that you consider your differences to make you "wrong." I actually never felt like that. I did sometimes feel like I had to hide or downplay something that was different about me, but I guess I never internalized that it was "wrong" to feel or do the things I did. I consider myself fortunate for this, because I've seen how perspectives like that can destroy people. I've definitely been shamed for some aspects of myself, but I feel like the shame didn't WORK, if that makes sense.
15. And lastly, I like the part about how some people think intensity is fake. There's an anecdote about a woman who is too bubbly, too enthusiastic, and people always reacted to her like this was manufactured even though it was genuine. I've had that reaction--people think that because I talk about who I am, what I've done, what I enjoy, or what I don't enjoy with a lot of intensity, it must be made up for effect or, again, to elicit a reaction that I must need or want for some maladaptive reason. I can be perceptive about others' motivations but I tend to treat them like they ask to be treated and take them at face value. I wish there was more of that in the world.
Anyway, I enjoyed being able to connect to this book's variety of presentations of giftedness and overexcitabilities, and I liked that it did put an emphasis on gifted adults too and showed some snapshots of what it looks like in young adulthood, middle adulthood, and older adulthood. I don't know how much I *learned* or how much I can *apply* in my life, but I do think it was valuable to just see what others have experienced and how people who study giftedness, overexcitabilities, special talents, disintegration, and various psychological and educational theories are incorporating these understandings into their practices.