It’s been two years since I published a three-part series, Overcoming the Self-Stigma of Mental Illness:
At the time, I wasn’t sure how people would respond. What I discovered is that telling the truth about stigma and internalized ableism resonated far beyond anything I expected. Today, I want to look back on that series, reflect on what has unfolded since, and honor the ripple effects it continues to create.
I’ve also gone back and improved the audio quality of the recordings for all three posts in the series. If you prefer listening, you’ll now find clearer versions of those recordings alongside the text.
When I published the series in August and September 2023, I was nervous. But in the lead-up to creating these posts, I realized they were a necessary part of my journey.
The Courage to Share
Publishing was much more than simply disclosure. It was a reframe. In those same journals, I wrote:
“This material needs to be shared. This is a huge breakthrough for me. I’m finally overcoming my self-stigma and internalized ableism. It’s a process, but this feels like a turning point.”
That intuition proved correct. The series became a bridge between my private healing and my public mission. I had already been studying my life through autoethnography, creating distance and naming patterns. Publishing that work transformed it. It stopped being only my medicine and became something others could use.

More Than Memoir
Two years on, I see that the series became more than a personal story. It demonstrated a method. It showed that anyone can examine their life through a non-pathologizing lens, reclaim their agency, and treat their story as valuable data.
Autoethnography, once tucked away in academia, moved into lived practice. The series democratized it. It invited others to become researchers of their own experience, to see their lives as both personal struggle and part of a larger map of human neurodiversity.
The emails I’ve received from grateful readers who’ve discovered my work over the past two years directly fueled the work I’ve done since to produce a paper about my methods. I will continue sharing about autoethnography on Substack and beyond.
The Ongoing Process
I knew, even in 2023, that this was only a beginning. My journals from that summer show me wrestling with definitions of stigma and ableism, exploring disability justice, and realizing that I could finally stop seeing myself as "characterologically flawed." I wrote of how progress had been made—that it was easier to talk about mental illness now than in my youth—but also of how deeply I still carried the weight of internalized narratives.
That tension, the sense of ongoing work, has proven true. What started as three posts has since expanded into a thriving community of people reframing their lives through Dąbrowski's theory.
A Testament to Transformation
Perhaps the deepest legacy of the series is that it shows transformation without erasure. My story doesn't pretend away the teenage journals, the hospitalizations, the years of medication, or the cycles of addiction. Instead, it reframes them within the larger arc of disintegration and integration.
I moved from "chronic mental patient" to scholar, from self-stigma to self-acceptance, from isolation to community. But the past remains part of the story—it isn't denied; it's integrated.
Looking Forward
As I've written since: "My job now is to carry this message to others and let them know they're not broken." The self-stigma series marked the moment when that personal healing became inseparable from a public calling.
Two years later, its impact is still unfolding. Each time someone finds those posts, recognizes themselves, and begins to loosen the grip of internalized ableism, I see the ripple widen.
The series remains what it was always meant to be: a bridge away from the medical model toward a richer understanding of human complexity. It's a testament to the power of reframing, of refusing deficit-based narratives, and of discovering the gifts hidden inside struggle.
And so, two years later, I'm grateful—for the courage it took to share, for everyone who has joined me in this work, and for the community that continues to grow around a simple but radical truth: we're not broken.
If this work has been meaningful to you, I invite you to support it by becoming a paid subscriber. Writing and podcasting about Dąbrowski’s theory, neurodivergence, and lived transformation is my full-time work. I don’t want to put these reflections behind a paywall, but I rely on reader support to make them sustainable. Every paid subscription helps cover the time, energy, and research that go into each post and podcast episode.
Thanks for revisiting this series again, Chris. I can see how the segments have been so helpful to many. You give voice to a process by which one can look back and seek reflective perspective on how a life has been lived. And how that perspective can better guide us with respect to living today.
You've inspired me to explore autoethnology vis-à-vis my own paths. I've been expressing my experiences for many years through various forms of writing, some more formal, others ad hoc and in the moment. Yet, I still sought a means of revisiting very challenging periods... did I create anything that would have left some kind of memento of what I was experiencing?
A week or so ago, I was somehow compelled to clean out a bit of my inbox. I discovered a plethora of detailed and intense messages from five years ago between myself and my former partner, my teachers, my employers, and my mom. Coupled with all the myriad mundanities of coordinating daily life for one's kids, their school, carpools, and after school activities. I've only touched upon these messages, yet I know I now have a new well to turn to when I'm ready to further explore those days.