Identity Therapeutics

When everything is a disorder, nothing is real.

There was a time when we used to talk about “identity politics.” It wasn’t that long ago actually. It usually involved a discussion of academia and the impact of its ideological tentacles, permeating, it would seem, every sphere of our society.

The only cultural discussion that existed somehow always revolved identity politics. It usually translated into the so-called “culture war” between the Left and the Right. Books were written, conferences galore were attended, one group talking to their own group, all of it resulting in an echo chamber (the description which also seems to be woefully out of date).

Identity battles certainly still exist but we are dealing with a far more insidious and ambiguous identity problem. We have reached some kind of strange pinnacle of what constitutes a disorder or a disease. People are defining themselves based on their disorders.

Sometimes, these disorders are even legitimate. They contain symptoms, which may be shared by many people. In turn, people feel like they are not alone but what kind of existence is the one lived on the latest Reddit thread?

I don't wish to argue about specific disorders but people are using the disorder as a way to evade responsibility. Or at the very least, to avoid the uncomfortable pain that often comes with it. If I have a disorder, then I can easily quantify myself. If others too have a disorder, then I can relate to them and they to me. This will lead me to a community of fellow sufferers, and finally, I will be accepted.

These “communities” exist almost exclusively online. The meme world reinforces certain assumptions about disorders, and the feedback loop takes on a therapeutic meaning. (This is especially true of depression, anxiety, ADHD, and autism. The notion of “spectrum” allows everyone to feel at home with dysfunction.)

Of course, having knowledge of what might be ailing you is a good thing. Or at least, it should be. In an ideal world, having a “diagnosis” might set you free. You will finally know what to do with your life. But the reality is always more painful than we expect, and feeling unique within a framework of a disorder will inevitably lead a person into what we might call, “identity therapeutics.”

Although having an answer of what might be wrong with you is not a bad thing, it usually leads people to define themselves entirely in terms of a disorder. In other words, they dehumanize themselves.

In a time and space of various avatars and personae, this obsession with a disorder only adds further confusion to our idea of being. We are retreating, escaping, avoiding. In other words, we are living too much in our heads. The “I” has taken on a rather shallow meaning that has nothing to do with search for truth but the inward search for the self that doesn't truly exist anyway. It's a fantasy of a perfect life without pain.

Acceptance is a helluva drug. We all have sought it at some point in our lives, and hopefully, we have grown beyond it. It's a territory, a region of being that keeps us firmly planted in a world where human act does not exist. Paradoxically, the way to find that elusive self is to seek the other in an authentic encounter. Only then, we might have a chance of knowing ourselves.