There's no such thing as “Imposter Syndrome”

But there is a real internal battle going on.

Please, before you’re tempted to dive into a comment below, let me explain what I mean.

I have no problem with the concept of feeling like an imposter. I’ve spent most of my life as a misfit, a square peg in life’s round hole. No, what I take exception to is the term “Syndrome”. But let’s look at what it is to feel like an imposter first.

Almost everyone I’ve ever met feels more or less out of place at one time or another. It’s a natural reaction to feeling uneasy, our primeval fear of the threats of the world around us. Once upon a time, they were tangible threats to our existence; being eaten, killed by invaders, upsetting the gods who failed our crops. Today, our threats are usually less existential, bullying, social unease, external expectations. Nevertheless, our primitive minds react with equal force. But where does all this angst go?

Some people get angry and violent, expending their frustrations on others. Many, other people look inward at their inabilities and deficits. They begin to doubt their worth and their ability to contribute to the world around them. They may experience a general ennui, uncertain of its origins. They are misfits in the world spinning around them. Like me, they may hear the voices of ‘internal saboteurs’ invading every conscious moment. Once we cross this arbitrary line, we are imposters in our own minds. More of this later…

I promised to explain myself when I said, “Imposter Syndrome does not exist." It’s that suffix ‘syndrome’ that bothers me. I’m vehemently against pathological labelling where it has no place. I identified as neurodivergent at age sixty-five (I’m now approaching 68). I’ll explain why…

When writing my memoir “Demons to Champions", it became clear I’ve always been a different thinker. Different from other people at school, college, and work. Fifty percent of my extended family have a formal diagnosis of ADHD, Autism, or both. With this in mind, I took several of the evidence-based online surveys, and lo and behold, I’m smack in the AuADHD constellation.

I call it my “Neurodivergent Awakening”. It explains so much of what went before and relaxes my mind. I’ve chosen not to seek a formal diagnosis for three reasons. Firstly, I spent thirty years as a biomedical scientist working alongside clinical colleagues in medical schools. As a result, I’ve a very practical understanding of the diagnostic process. Secondly, I don’t want to wait two years to take up the scarce opportunity to get an assessment on the NHS. Finally, I don’t have the money to pay for a private assessment.

Back to the word ‘Syndrome’ - There are two dictionary definitions of ‘Syndrome’…

“A group of symptoms which consistently occur together, or a condition characterized by a set of associated symptoms.

or

A characteristic combination of opinions, emotions, or behaviour.

In other words, these are external features recognisable by an observer (usually a doctor). They are pathologised as abnormal because they don't fit an accepted norm for healthy people. At best they're a vague collection of characteristics that put people into an arbitrary group. If you were to look at a different set of features, you would put them in different categories. They fail to appreciate any internal drivers and triggers of those behaviours.

The same can be said of anxiety and depression. Both are natural responses to prolonged external pressure. Uncontrolled vigilance becomes anxiety, persistent sadness morphs into depression. What drives us to those extremes and our inability to withstand them lies in the years of internal battles that precede it.

In the context of mental health, I’m troubled by an ableist view of feeling like an imposter. I don’t feel ill; I’m not a victim, and I don’t need therapy. I’m an eternal imposter, but I don’t have a syndrome. The world doesn’t fit me, and often makes me unhappy. In my early teens, this turned inwards to the point of edging towards the brink of taking my own life. How could an outwardly happy and successful man come to this point? At the time it felt to me like a logical inevitability, but was I sick?

The many people who take their own lives can’t speak for themselves. As a survivor, I'm obliged to share how my mind slipped towards the edge of abyss, and what saved me. This not illness. I look at that time as a natural reaction to feeling out of place for over two and a half decades. No one knew this, I held it secretly within. And therein lies the corrosive damage secrets. How has this revelation coloured my understanding of how I became an imposter? How did it become so extreme that it challenged my life?

I want to reassure you that today I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I understand who I am, and I’ve fallen in love with my neurodivergent maverick mind. I’m as creative as ever, and my drive to contribute to society is undiminished. People tell me I should retire (I have twice so far) and relax, but my mind still pumps out a deluge of ideas. Once upon a time, I tried to pay attention to them all, today I focus on the most persistent ones. I’m content with feeling like an imposter in the real world. For example, I agonised over beginning this Substack, and the thought of being a published ‘writer’ scares me. Yet, I persist.

The big difference is, I no longer feel like an imposter in my own mind. I belong here, and I love my mind. I acknowledge my blind spots and my strengths. So, while I may not gel with the external social world (their problem), I no longer care as much. I’m less prone to please for the sake of it, and I love asking inconvenient questions (well-meaning, of course). How has this come about? It’s all because I acknowledged the infinite power of unconditional love.

I called my Substack “Demons to Champions” and I need to explain myself. These “Demons” are voices in my mind. I’ve been with them all my life. You met the “Judge” in my first post. He was the master of my mind, controlling and abusive. Then there was “Mr Hypervigilant”, “Pleaser” and “Wimp”. A panoply of lesser characters came and went. Let me be clear, they were as real as the people in my external world. Their opinions carried heft, and impact. They belittled and undermined. They drove me to take on more than I could ever cope with. They set me on guard for imagined threat, and they worked to make me withdraw from conflict and hard work. They burned me out.

My Demons weren’t of the schizophrenic type. They didn’t tell me to do terrible things to other people. They aimed everything inwards, to demean me and make me feel even more out of place. The Judge would tell me, “Gary, you’re not really very good at...” and one evening he said, “Gary, wouldn’t it be better for everyone if you weren’t here?”

Pleaser would say, “Gary, you want this person to love you so say yes to taking on that new task.” I knew that with everything else I’d taken on I wouldn’t be able to deliver, but I could never say no.

At school, My Hypervigilant would whisper in my mind’s ear, “I think I heard Dave mention your name, I wonder what they are saying about you? The Judge would chime in with, “Nothing good, I’m sure.”

Wimp was my safety valve, my get-out clause. At the first sign of conflict or struggle, he would say, “Gary, this is going to be too hard for you. Why not back off and let that grant application deadline pass. You will feel calmer afterwards.” I never did.

The outcome of this was I felt like an imposter in my own mind. I wasn’t in control of my thoughts and emotions. I presented my best masks to society, but my Demons controlled my inner world. It couldn’t go on…

What of my Champions, who are they? Once they were my Demons. They live with me today. Over many years, they went through a phase of being grudging Allies. Today they’re my integrated Champions. The magic ingredient was my recognition that they always meant well, but they were dim and misguided in their actions. I realised they had hidden strengths I could use for my growth. I had to help them focus their efforts to help me.

To love myself and be happy, I had to learn how to give my Demons unconditional love. I made no contracts, expected no transactions, and never offered bribes. Instead, I distracted them, gave them my attention, understood their desire to protect me. Above all, I gave them unconditional love.

My invitation

If any of my ramblings resonate with you, I invite you to be a little less self-judgemental. I know that’s hard but start with the trivial stuff. Pay mindful attention to your small thoughts and actions, notice them. Pay them no great heed. Let them come and go. But most of all, notice them.

The seminar of our life

Consider the events of your life as the richest lesson you'll ever learn from. Let it coach and mentor you. There's no good or bad. There's only convenient and inconvenient. Run with the more convenient and avoid the other. When you catch yourself carried along on a mental path that upsets you, notice what’s happening and gently bring yourself back to something you want to focus on. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

The Future

I’ll expand on many of these themes in future posts.

Most of all!

You may feel a misfit with the world, that’s OK. It’s not you, it’s where you find yourself. You are NOT an imposter. Mother Nature gave you the right to be here, as you are. We all have an obligation to be the best version of ourselves we can muster on any given day. Some days you’ll be riding a wave, on other days you’ll be a damp squib. Either way, be YOU!

Image by Noah Silliman on unsplash.com