Am I normal?

I have always been troubled by labels such as “normal”, and its opposite, “abnormal”, particularly when applied to mental health and personality. I am glad that it is no longer fashionable to talk about “abnormal psychology”, the preferred term being “psychopathology”. (You wouldn’t call someone with cancer “abnormal”, would you?) Normality is defined statistically, and just means the typical, or average behaviour or personality. If you’re some way from the mean on some personality trait it doesn’t mean, usually, that there is anything wrong with you. There is nothing wrong with being very introverted, and something very right about being highly creative. But we do like labelling people, and sometimes the labels take on a life of their own.

Here is a list of the disorders or syndrome with which I have been officially and unofficially diagnosed – the labels I have been given.

1. Moderate to severe depression. No arguing about this one. Yes.

2. Bipolar disorder. Yes my moods go up and down but I don’t think I have ever been manic. The moods also change quickly, even for rapid cycling. But perhaps bipolar and unipolar disorder are on a continuum, and I am just a little away from the unipolar end?

3. Anxiety disorder. Another obvious yes.

4. Phobias. I do have some mild phobias, particularly arachnophobia and trypophobia, but they’re mild. More troubling are claustrophobia and social phobia.

5. Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). Definitely, particularly obsessiveness, and I should have been treated for compulsive behaviour when young. But hey, it was the early 70s, and no one knew anything then.

6. Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). I made the grade for a psychiatric diagnosis, but my blood pressure is too high for Ritalin.

7. Autistic spectrum disorder (ASD) definitely. I score 40 on the AQ.

8. Developmental prosopagnosia. I have never been able to remember or recognise faces, and when I imagine them, only face-shaped blankness comes to mind, although I can remember the hair.

9. Depersonalisation and derealisation. Funny turns. Yes, occasionally.

10. General phonological deficit (GPD). Trouble processing novel speech sounds. Definitely: I have trouble learning and remembering new words, learning nonwords, learning new languages, and recognising speech, particularly against a background of other speech sounds (although my general hearing is fine).

11. Personality disorder. Borderline personality disorder. Or narcissistic personality disorder. Or obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. I disagree with this one, but perhaps I would.

12. Authority defiance disorder. Who likes to be told what to do? (From the research on authoritarianism and compliance, quite a lot of people, actually). Are we starting to get silly?

13. Task avoidance disorder. Now I fear I am guilty of pathologising normal behaviour. Who doesn’t procrastinate occasionally?

Is it likely that I would suffer from all of these things independently? That’s 13 labels for me, and let’s suppose that each condition occurs in 5% of the population, which is almost certainly an over-estimate. That means the probability of them co-occurring if they are independent is about 10 to the power of -18 – that’s extraordinarily small. I am special, but not so special as to think I’m the only person who has ever lived that has these problems. That means the conditions can’t be independent. That makes sense, because we know anxiety and depression usually go together, as do some neurodevelopmental disorders.

And so is it likely that these “peculiarities” of mine are explained by a single faulty gene? Of course not. Like our physical appearance, our brains and mental life are determined by the interaction of many genes with our upbringing. And just as some people are considered more physically attractive, and some of us less so, some people have more adaptive or happier personalities, and some of us struggle.

I like the terms (labels) neurotypical and neurodivergent for just the reason that we can talk about people as being very different from the population norm without implying that there is necessarily anything wrong with them. Neurodivergence is a cluster of semi-related characteristics, including primarily what used to be known as Asperger’s syndrome.

The labels clarify my thinking a bit, but do the conditions marked by the labels map on to clearly identifiable brain states? Although there are genetic markers of depression, some brain abnormalities have been observed, there may be neurotransmitter differences, and some differences in fMRIs between the brains of depressed and non-depressed people, we cannot yet reliably identify a depressed person by their brain alone. And, if you are in doubt, if you had a brain scan which came back completely normal, what kind of psychiatrist would say that you are wrong about your suicidal ideation, that you can’t really be experiencing it because your brain looks normal?

When does unusual behaviour cross over into becoming illness? Very simply, when it causes you distress. You might argue that we should also include when someone’s behaviour causes others distress, but that is a risky path to take.

Of course our mental states are related to our brain states, but our understanding of the nature of the relationship is still rudimentary, and that is part of the problem with treatment: we don’t really understand what we’re treating. We have to rely on how our symptoms are changed by some treatment, and have only a basic understanding in some cases of how (see for example the recent and misunderstood fuss about SSRIs and serotonin levels).

The brain and the mind that works in it is among  most complex structures in the universe, so please be patient with your psychiatrist or psychologist if sorting things out takes time.

Further reading

Allsopp, Kate, John Read, Rhiannon Corcoran, and Peter Kinderman. (2019). Heterogeneity in Psychiatric Diagnostic Classification. Psychiatry Research, 279, 15–22.

https://doi.org/10.1016/j.psychres.2019.07.005.

Author: trevorharley

I am Emeritus Professor of Psychology at the University of Dundee, Scotland. I am the author of several books, including the best selling texts "The psychology of language" (now in its fourth edition) and "Talking the talk: Language, psychology and science". I am currently also writing books on the science of consciousness and on the philosophy of science as applied to psychology (the latter with Richard Wilton), with both due to be published in 2017. Several other books are in the pipeline. My research interests are varied and I have published widely in some of the leading peer-reviewed psychology journals. My interests include language production, how we represent meaning, computer models of the mind, sleep and dreams, consciousness, mental illness, personality and motivation, the effects of brain damage on behaviour, and how the weather influences behaviour. I believe passionately that scientists, particularly those paid from the public purse, have a duty to explain what they do to that public. I also believe that we can reach a wide audience by the use of social media and new ways of explaining what we do. In my spare time I use stand-up comedy to talk about my research; a few years ago I appeared at the Edinburgh Fringe. One of the strangest things about being a comic is that I am often severely depressed (as well as anxious and obsessive). I have been on many types of medication, with varying degrees of success. When depressed I am always struck by how pointless everything seems: nothing seems worthwhile, and those things that I usually enjoy (playing the piano - even if not very well, looking at the natural world, reading, watching movies) no longer entice. My interest in things is a very accurate barometer of how well I am. I have realised that some mental illnesses, particularly severe mood disorders, are in part a loss of purpose and meaning in life. Becoming well involves recovering this purpose. I am also very keen to help remove the stigma that still surrounds mental illness. All of my life I have been puzzled by the question of what is the best way to spend my time. This blog is my search for answer to that question. In it I talk about my life, psychology, mental illness, purpose, living a better life, time management, existential despair, death (making me a death blogger I suppose), being creative, writing, and trying to write when depressed. I try and blog once a week or so; long silences usually mean I'm too depressed to write. For more information about me, see the home page of my website at www.trevorharley.com. I welcome comments on my blog, or if you prefer you can email me at trevor.harley@mac.com. You can follow me on Twitter at @trevharley.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: