51 Artikel
We live in an age of distraction, but attention is not merely a cognitive resource to be managed. It is a moral stance toward reality. What does it mean to truly attend to another person, to a text, to the present moment? And what do we lose when we fail?
She was forty-three when she finally understood why she had spent her life exhausted by pretending. He was fifty-one, successful by every external measure, grieving the decades he had spent believing himself fundamentally broken. The late discovery of neurodivergence carries a specific grief, and a specific hope.
We are told to forgive for our own peace, as if resentment were a poison we drink hoping to harm another. But what if forgiveness is not therapy but moral labor? What does it cost to release someone who may never deserve it, and what do we lose if we cannot?
She scores in the 99th percentile on verbal reasoning but cannot write a paragraph. He understands quantum physics but cannot tie his shoes. Twice-exceptional minds carry both extraordinary capacity and significant disability, yet our systems see only one or the other, or neither.
We praise the willingness to admit error, but humility has a shadow side. When does openness become paralysis? When does the fear of being wrong silence the courage to stand for something? The difficult question is how to hold conviction and uncertainty together.
We judge ourselves and others by outcomes we never controlled. A reckless driver who kills a child is worse than one who merely damages a fender, though their recklessness was identical. If morality is about character, why does fortune determine our blame?
She cannot sleep for days after a perceived slight. He describes criticism as physical pain in his chest. Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is the intense emotional response to real or imagined rejection that lives at the heart of the ADHD experience, yet it is rarely named in clinical settings.
We mourn not only what we lose, but what we never became. The philosopher who never wrote the book, the parent who never had the child, the self that remained potential. Is regret a failure of wisdom, or its most honest expression?
Autistic people don't lack empathy. They experience a different kind, directed toward patterns, systems, and often other autistic minds. The communication breakdown between autistic and neurotypical people is mutual, yet only one side is pathologized. This changes everything.
We speak of paying attention as if it were currency we spend. But Simone Weil suggested attention is the rarest form of generosity: the capacity to suspend ourselves long enough to see what is actually there. In an age of distraction, what does it cost to truly look?
She reads philosophy at ten but sobs when her routine changes. He solves equations like a graduate student but cannot tolerate the seam in his socks. This is dyssynchrony, the defining feature of gifted development where cognitive capacity outpaces emotional, physical, and social maturity.
We imagine character is forged in crisis, revealed in the grand moral moment. But ethics is built in repetition; the daily walk, the morning ritual, the way we greet a student. What are we becoming in the habits we no longer notice?
There is a collapse that comes after decades of performing normalcy. Autistic burnout is not depression or laziness; it is the neurological exhaustion that follows years of compensatory masking, leaving adults unable to function in ways they once managed.
We want moral certainty, general rules to guide us through every dilemma. But life is lived in specifics. When principles fail, what remains is practical wisdom: the capacity to see what matters here, now, with this person. Can this be taught, or only learned?
You will die. Not someday in the abstract, but concretely and irreversibly. Most of us flee this. Yet philosophers from Epicurus to Heidegger argued that confronting mortality is not morbid; it is the condition for genuine life. What changes when we stop running?
She reads at fourteen but cannot hold a pencil. He solves complex problems but cannot keep a job. Twice-exceptionality means being gifted and disabled simultaneously, and the world rarely sees either condition clearly.
We celebrate resilience and forward motion, yet we rarely examine the moral significance of looking back. Regret is not a failure to be overcome; it is the shadow cast by genuine choice. What does it mean to live with what we cannot undo?
They remember every slight for decades. A glance triggers days of shame. Rejection sensitive dysphoria is the neurological tendency to experience rejection as acute physical pain, explaining the rage, withdrawal, and people-pleasing that haunt many with ADHD.
We praise empathy and action, yet we rarely examine the quality of our attention. But attention is the foundation of all moral perception. What are we missing when we refuse to truly look, and what does it cost to see?
People with ADHD are not simply distracted. They are trapped in a neurological present that refuses to extend into the future. This is time blindness, the hidden architecture of executive dysfunction that explains why capable adults miss deadlines despite knowing better.
You can follow every moral rule and still fail to see the person before you. Moral imagination is the capacity to perceive others as full centers of experience, not as obstacles or instruments. What does it cost to truly see, and what do we lose when we refuse?
They appear successful, even exceptional. But beneath the performance is a ledger of exhaustion. For many late-diagnosed neurodivergent adults, "high functioning" meant high-cost masking, and the bill eventually comes due.
You live as if you have infinite time, yet you know you do not. Death is not merely an event at life's end; it is the horizon that gives shape to every choice. What changes when we stop fleeing our finitude and begin to inhabit it?
They test in the top 2% for intelligence yet cannot write a coherent paragraph. They grasp quantum physics but cannot organize a backpack. This is twice-exceptionality, where giftedness meets disability, and it is the most commonly missed profile in clinical practice.
You have been wronged, and the debt cannot be paid. Yet you are told to forgive, as if this were merely a decision to stop feeling anger. But forgiveness is not a mood or a gift; it is a complex moral achievement that transforms both the wronged and the wrongdoer.
We have framed autistic social difficulty as a deficit in understanding others. But the research reveals something unsettling: neurotypical people are equally poor at understanding autistic minds. The failure is mutual, yet only one side bears the diagnosis.
You are judged for what you did, yet much of what you did depends on what you never chose: your birth, your temperament, the consequences that followed your actions. Is moral character an achievement or an accident of circumstance?
They do not skim; they plunge. A single subject consumes them entirely, while the world recedes. This is not mere focus—it is monotropism, the cognitive pattern that defines how atypical minds process depth at the expense of breadth, and why they struggle to surface.
You cannot think without attending, yet attention is the first thing we surrender to urgency. What would it mean to treat looking as a moral discipline rather than a passive state, and to recognize that how we attend shapes who we become?
They feel before they think. A reprimand lands like a physical blow; minor disappointment triggers lasting grief. This is not mood disorder. It is the emotional overexcitability of atypical minds, and we miss it because we look at behavior instead of neurology.
You will never experience my headache, and I will never experience yours. We assume other humans have inner lives like our own, but we cannot prove it. This is not merely an academic puzzle; it is the foundation of empathy, love, and the limits of understanding.
She reads at twelve, relates at six, reasons at twenty. He grasps calculus at ten, cannot tie his shoes without rage. The asynchronous child does not develop; they develop in fragments, and the world demands a wholeness they cannot yet give.
Certa vez, quebrei uma promessa feita à minha esposa, Elena. Foi algo trivial; eu disse que compraria leite no caminho para casa e me esqueci. Ela não ficou brava. A noite transcor...
You promised to meet a friend for coffee, yet you stay home to finish work. No one is harmed, yet something is broken. The ethics of small promises reveals how obligation binds us not through consequences, but through the invisible architecture of trust that makes human life possible.
A soldier must shoot one prisoner to save twenty. A doctor must choose who receives the only ventilator. Both choose rightly, yet both bear guilt. Some choices leave moral traces no justification can erase. What do we owe the road not taken, and how do we live with the cost of choosing at all?
You speak of your life as a story with yourself as the protagonist, learning and growing toward meaning. But what if this narrative mode is not truth but comfort? What if the self is not a tale being written but something stranger, more fragmented, more immediate?
You drove carefully yet killed a child who darted into the road. Another drove drunk yet arrived home safely. We blame the first and excuse the second, yet both made their choices; only luck differed. What does this reveal about the limits of moral responsibility?
You cannot be kind to what you do not see. Before every moral act lies a prior choice: the direction of your attention. Yet we treat looking as passive, not ethical. What changes when we recognize that noticing is the first moral labor?
You see bodies move, hear words spoken, observe tears and laughter. But you have never touched another consciousness directly. How do you know that anyone besides yourself actually feels, fears, or hopes? The answer reveals the limits of certainty and the beginning of ethics.
You and a colleague both value justice, yet disagree on the same policy. Neither is stupid; neither is evil. Where does the divergence come from? The answer reveals something uncomfortable: moral reasoning resembles interpretation more than mathematics.
They read philosophy at eight but cannot tie their shoes. They design complex systems yet live in daily chaos. Their cognitive profiles refuse the bell curve's smooth slope, creating suffering born not from inability, but from unevenness.
For decades, they held the facade together. High-performing professionals, seemingly competent parents, the ones who "figured it out"—until they arrive in my practice burned out, confused, wondering why success feels like drowning. The bill for passing as neurotypical has finally come due.
They test in the 99th percentile for verbal reasoning and the 15th for processing speed. Schools see laziness; clinicians see only the ADHD or only the giftedness. The twice-exceptional profile is missed because we refuse to hold both truths at once.
They built elaborate systems to function: color-coded calendars, rigid routines, adrenaline-fueled deadlines. For years, it worked. Then parenthood arrived, or a promotion, or simply midlife exhaustion, and the architecture of compensation collapsed. This is the hidden story of adult ADHD.
They grasp complex concepts instantly yet fail at basic organization. They test in the gifted range while struggling with reading or attention. Twice-exceptional minds carry both extraordinary capacity and significant disability, and the interaction between them creates a profile that standard assessments often miss entirely.
They feel fabric as pain, think in spirals that exhaust, cry at beauty others miss. Dabrowski's overexcitabilities describe minds processing the world with volume turned up. The clinical task is not to dampen the signal, but to build lives that hold the intensity.
They performed normalcy convincingly; doctors saw anxiety, borderline personality, eating disorders. Beneath the mask was autism, unrecognized because it didn't look like the textbook written for boys. This is the hidden epidemic of late-diagnosed autistic women.
They were diagnosed with anxiety, mood disorders, personality pathology. But beneath the emotional volatility was ADHD, missed because the DSM ignores what clinicians see daily: ADHD is fundamentally a disorder of emotional self-regulation.
They read philosophy at ten and cannot handle a sleepover at eleven. Their cognitive capacity outpaces their emotional regulation by years, creating a specific suffering that standard developmental models fail to capture. This is dyssynchrony, and it explains much of the pain my clients carry.
We have been asking the wrong question about autism for decades. Not: what is wrong with autistic social cognition? But: what happens when two different cognitive styles attempt communication, and both struggle equally to bridge the gap?
Uma das condições fundamentais para o sucesso das relações é a ordem. Refiro-me, primeiramente, às regras que regem a convivência de um grupo de forma fixa. Em todas as relações ma...