For a long time, I really disliked writing about myself. I had the educated skills, the raw natural talent of a neurodiverse savant, and the stubbornly steady work ethic of a redneck hick logger, but what I lacked was confidence. Who wanted to hear what a disabled kid from a small logging town had to say?

Well… Seeing a distinct lack of any such uniquely positioned voices in the mainstream?

Hello world.

What does your soul look like?

My name is McRae, AKA @McRaeWrites on most social networks, and I’m a queer (Demisexual + Masc/Non Binary) and neurodivergent (ADHD, Social Anxiety, Etc.) writer, creator, educator, and all-around eccentric motherfucker originally hailing from stolen land in the boonies of British Columbia.

I’m the goddess of a thousand masks. I’ve had many names and pseudonyms in my life.

You bet – that metaphor means I use any and all pronouns. I pray for the day I get to shed this casket of flesh! The singularity can’t come soon enough. Still, exploring my nonbinary identity in recent years has been a breath of fresh air.

See, I’ve come an extremely long way in my very short number of years on the planet. I’m over 210 in dog years, and over 1700 in ADHD years, you know! From my birth way back in the halcyon days of 1990, to now, I’ve watched as the world has ever-more needed a greater voice coming from minority folks like me, as neurodiverse and disabled people have traditionally been silenced. So now I’m trying to speak up as best I can to try and fix some of this shit we see going wrong. I’m starting later in life than I should have, but you have no idea how fast I work when I’m engaged.

It’s the savant thing.

I very much intend to follow the lead of my idols like Fred Rogers, Bob Ross, Nikola Tesla, and the like – and help amplify the voices of other underdogs as much as I possibly can. I come from the subcultures of punk and anarchism, after all. But as much as I love bucking authority, I also intend to try and bridge some of the gaps in our society that have been widening for a while now. You have no idea how frayed the social contract has truly become.

So… As all the real heroes are long dead, I’ve become a cartoon supervillain of sorts in order to either save my species from extinction, by consuming and rebuilding the zeitgeist in entirety. Or, if I fail, I’ll chronicle the downfall of humanity as a final, glorious epitaph. I’ll teach new civilizations about our failures as it was in the final days of Rome amidst the Gauls. See, I’m pretending to be the ouroboros, Jormundgandr. Grown up from a World Serpent to a Universe Serpent. (Do you know what happens when I let go of my tail?)

And don’t you dare ask about that final fight between me and Thor.

(I clearly like to play pretend, eh?)

Less imaginary, my ethics are steeped in:

-Progressivism
-Education
-Authenticity
-Democracy
-Autonomy
-Vote reform
-Transparency
-Honesty
-Truth
-Kindness
-Honor
-Creativity
-Empathy
-Loyalty
-Justice
-Pacifism
-Collaboration
-Environmentalism
-Social justice
-Mutual aid
-Etc!

I guess you could boil most of that down to “Humanist.”

See, I come from a logging family. And oftentimes, being from a lumberjack family means struggling to put food on the table, and pretending as best one can to be middle class in a sort of “bowing” before the North American societal and cultural norms of capitalism. (Boo!)

That means I have the bizarre and morbidly hilarious privilege of being a living witness to two worlds – both the feast and the famine! The disabled son of a lumberjack, grown into a punk-fae wildling on the sacred territory of a nation I owe a lot to in exchange for a gifted childhood.

I mean, the deck was stacked against me from the start with all these disabilities. Ableism and anti-queer sentiment is rampant in small towns. I have lots of haters. (You wouldn’t believe the hate mail I’ve gotten since starting my business in 2019!) That means I am extra appreciative of simple kindnesses and accepting communities!

On top of my interesting childhood socioeconomic situation, I was born onto this plane of existence with ADHD (The Inattentive Subtype, although I guess that language is outdated), and for a long time that was “it.” Back in the day it was just called ADD and all I knew is that it meant I couldn’t focus on things I didn’t like. I had no clue it involved executive dysfunction, and was one of several inherited genetic clan traits. Most of my medical record was hidden from me. Hereditary genetics is a bitch sometimes. I only knew that it was “bad,” and I was “bad” and “different” for having it! Stigma sucks.

Nowadays – I’m aware that I have some other medically diagnosed labels in addition to the aforementioned ADHD. Social Anxiety Disorder, Dyscalculia, Major Depression, and a Major Mood Disorder. I’m pretty sure I’m autistic as well, but haven’t ever been formally diagnosed with it. And I doubt it would provide me much in the way of supports or the like at my age anyways.

Some of these are more recent labels of the past decade, assessed with the help and patience of both myself and my medical teams. Others still, I had been diagnosed with the whole time, and were labels I had to figure out myself by looking at old scanned medical documents from the 1990’s! Who knew?!

I certainly didn’t. As I said, a lot of it was hidden from me for most of my life.

I’m just so lucky through it all that I had some stellar mentors and role models along the way, who helped me figure my shit out even as I made life hell for them. Local first nations and community members. Coworkers in the trades. And of course, dozens of teachers – from the math teacher who taught two courses at once to help me get into University after a lifetime of C- marks, to the other math teacher who endured my worst ADHD hijinx. And of course there was the drama teacher – the only “out” queer butch lesbian woman I knew in town in an age of my closeted teenage idolizing of Riot Grrl Zines and punk-rock, metal, or alt-rock subculture. A lady I respect, who showed me love, and helped me learn that there were different ways to be in the world than the only ones I had ever known from toxic masculinity and addiction-laden forestry backgrounds.

I swear to pay that forward, somehow.

So now as an adult, with some overdue medication exploration and fuck-loads of other mental health supports, I am finally functional. Actually, more than functional. I’m beginning to lean into my Damocles-Sword superpowers, as it were. But still…

Talk about an uphill battle!

Having to work five times as hard as everyone around me for the same results has given me some solid skill-sets, fortunately enough for me:

Work ethic.
Willpower.
Fortitude & resilience.
Critical thinking.
Outside the box problem-solving skills.
Infinite creativity.
And so much more.

I mean – with my living and dying at twice the speed as everyone else, (according to the statistics on deaths for neurodivergent people like me…) I’m needing to move in a hurry as per this metaphorical mountain I need to climb! I am in fact stubborn enough to never give up though. I relish the challenge. It drives me ever-upwards. And yet I’m still pragmatic, in that I only have thirty years give or take to fix as much of humanity as I can before I die. Then you’ll only have my body of work to grow and evolve yourselves with. I’ll be dead as fuck, and subsequently will lack any opinion on the matter.

Excelsior.

Of course, living with my nose in books, plays, imaginary worlds, films, new media, and video games due to the connected social struggles of my (closeted) queer, disabled life definitely helped my vocabulary and critical thinking skills, much to the current McRae’s benefit! I can say with pride that I now have a couple of degrees and can stand on my own two feet, despite a prior lack of medication, or much of anything else in the way of any close support for the majority of my life beforehand. I’ve even clearly forsaken my birth name in favor of my clan name in exploring my non binary identity, too.

(You can read The Pickup Truck Diaries articles on these sorts of deeper non-fiction prose topics, available via the drop down bar up top!)

In terms of education, I’ve always been involved – be it attending the 2007 Provincial Student Congress to yell at then Liberal Government Education Minister Shirley Bond about her terrible Education Ministry policies, or speaking at a potlatch and riling up the youth in front of Gordon Campbell, the Premier at the time. (His estranged wife was my principal, it was weird.)

Despite getting barely passing grades for most of my school experience, I switched to Straight A’s mostly in Grade nine after deciding late that I wanted to be a teacher like my dead grandmother. Spending my Sundays catching up 2-3 years of missed French classes at the Language Arts teacher’s house wisened me up to the value of education real quick! Some years later, with a few funny stories here and there, I graduated from The University of British Columbia in 2013 with a Bachelor of Arts – specializing in History, English, and Drama. I graduated from that same university in 2014 a gear later with a Bachelor of Education, specializing in Secondary Ed. And I’ve been grinding ever since towards the impossible task of accumulating all knowledge in the universe, one hyperfocus session at a time! (Ask me about learning market macroeconomics over the last three years! It’s been fascinating!)

All told, things are much different now.

Even the oldest of scars can still heal with the right love and care. And hell if I don’t have a lot of scars! I’m oddly proud of surviving everything I have, both good and bad. What is resilience worth to us as individuals, after all?

So I hope you get now why I am very loud about my social justice beliefs and about always supporting the underdog and the underprivileged in any given situation, especially now that I have the responsibility of a public platform and a small business.

(Remember Spiderman: With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility!)

Most of these mental disabilities I bear were, and still ARE double-edged swords, in each their own way. For each deficit, there’s usually an equally powerful bonus. It’s like being superman and yet only ever being able to fly to get around. Gets annoying after a while. Also, from a stage picture standpoint, it would make him look like such a douche just floating down a hallway, right? What I’d give to trade some of my pattern recognition for knowing social cues and the like, you know!?

Because of my differences, I’m different from many other writers and creators in that I have the benefit of a full suite of superpowers from all of my double-edged disabilities. The ADHD allows me to hyper-focus, for intense and extensive marathon periods of time on anything I’m enjoying. This allows me to learn about whatever I want in rapid and short timelines, and I pick up new information and skills extremely quickly, ruled only by the banality of pure whim. Writer’s block does not exist for me. There are too many ideas and not enough time. On a good day, I can chunk out 10,000 words, and the average novel runs about 70-100k long. I’m not unique, but I am pretty fucking rare in regards to output.

So the Fae and Boggart metaphors I use for myself are hilariously quite apt. As is the serpent devouring itself – the ouroboros, for both classical alchemical and religious reasons. You’ll see it plastered across a lot of my work. Metaphors and rhetoric abound with me! Each disability has it’s own suite of metaphors and allusions if you look hard enough. I’m a bit of a cultivated taste in that much of my poetry work specifically requires some intelligence and a smattering of background knowledge, usually via deciphering allusion. “The Infinite Hunger.” My “Blood Curse.” “The Infinite Deconstruction of The Self.” And so on, and so forth.

The unique mix of very sharp swords in my “brain-cage toolbox” also helps me utilize logic well and understand complex systems quite easily to min-max them, although gray areas and ambiguities are still a little tougher when it comes to other people and social situations! I can react at near-instantaneous speeds without much processing time, and that helps eternally with my attempts at comedy. Much to the chagrin of others I might be workshopping deadpan sardonic jokes and puns on. (Although I kinda like the groans as much as the laughter, sometimes!)

Unfortunately for me, some of my jokes are definitely too high-brow for even my own tastes. I can’t expect everybody to have read the Ramayana or Gilgamesh, right? Perhaps artistically I need to lower my bar to make my work more accessible overall. (Psh. Whatever, man.)

On the other hand, maybe that’s my Anxiety Disorder speaking. My Social Anxiety Disorder means my amygdala and its’ attached fight or flight response is cranked up to eleven most of the time. I see everything, and often hear everything, allowing me to read people’s intentions and spot small details with ease. I feel like a mind reader sometimes, which has pros and cons. Reading that somebody hates you when they might just be tired or indifferent is “pretty shit,” as the British say. As a result I really dislike conflict, grudges, or the like. Sometimes I need to tell my Anxiety to shut the fuck up and talk things out from the heart like a mature adult, you know?

On the other hand, the Major Mood Disorder and Depression has brought me to such deep lows on and off over the course of my life that my empathy and sense of right or wrong are stronger than most. I guess I do really know what it’s like to suffer. So I don’t understand how some people aren’t aware of those around them. I want people to feel happy, good, and joyful, despite the honest nature of discussing some dark subject matter. Doesn’t everybody?

And screw you, Dyscalculia! I got good at Magic: The Gathering and beat you, motherfucker!

Jokes aside, I’m not seeking your pity. Don’t need it. Don’t want it.

I’m transparent, remember? I’ll tell you right here and now that all I need is for people to enjoy reading my work, or perhaps to extend their emotional availability to explore, both via self reflection and also via engaging with education. I’ll try to entertain you, regardless. I provide the art no matter what, and it’s up to you to engage with it. I have novels, DnD resources, poetry, non-fiction articles, and more. You can read it at your own pace and whims.

These days, I’ve grown. Evolved. Adapted. I’m a more experienced, informed adult. One finally medicated for some of my disabilities, (thereby fixing some of those annoying chemical imbalances in my brain).

And I now feel like I’m sorta living the movie “Limitless” (Or perhaps the old play “Pygmalion”) in real time.

All this intense change in such a short amount of time has left me belly-laughing at how easy life has been for the majority of people around me the whole time. That whole executive function thing is pretty useful, huh? Fuck me, I wish I had some of this dopamine shit sooner!

See, it’s like waking up after being asleep for a very long time. As a kid, I blamed myself for my shortcomings. I beat myself up endlessly. Suicide was a constant thought lurking in the back of my mind. I’ve even failed at offing myself. But now that I’m wide awake, I know better. And I have big plans for this world. Very big plans. In keeping with my social-justice, punk-rock roots, I’m ready to affect major and widespread positive world change for the species. I’m going to stand tall and use my lexicon and mastery of the written English word, as well as all the skills, strategies, and experiences I’ve fought through to improve my craft as a creator and hopefully help all of humanity.

I’ll devour the zeitgeist.

As a Cartoon Supervillain.

Jormundgandr.

Some jackass.

I demand that transparency, ethics, and helping or educating people always comes first.

I’ll show the world that neurodivergent people not only have a place within it, but that they can also be leaders in pushing for equity and equality in the modern world. Hell, I’ll prove that our powers actually make us quite good at it! So I’m going to push for social change to ensure that people aren’t suffering, in alignment with my values, all while climbing to the top of the pile and helping people up behind me.

I’m going to be the crest of the wave for societal change as best I can.

I have dozens of plans to prevent the climate apocalypse and fight for utopia.

I have less than ten years, according to climate science.

It’ll be tough, but…

A tip.

Don’t underestimate me.

Never. Fucking. Underestimate. Me.

Long story short, welcome to my world! This website? The mind of a madman, as they would have said in the 1920’s when people like me were still committed to asylums.

Maddening, madly, mad? Well, as a forewarning, there’s a romanticism I apply to that. I tend to make a lot of allusions to being crazy or mad, which is a bit of a morbid in-joke at my own disabilities and neurodiversities. Dark humor is my forte, after all. You can tell that my inspirations are in surrealist-absurdist humor – Monty Python, George Carlin, Bob and Doug MacKenzie, Lewis Black, Rick Moranis, Nardwuar, Hannah Gadsby, the list goes on forever. Sarcasm, cheeky chirps or retorts, and smarm are my hallmark, all in the hopes of being clever or funny to make folks smile.

When the whole world is an asylum, perhaps I’m the one we need. I’m not afraid of people calling me crazy or eccentric, because I know exactly where I stand and what my values and beliefs are.

In maddening times, you call for a madman. Occam’s Razor!

So, while I may not be a martyr, a messiah, a guru, a monk, or a priest…

My hand is still extended.

Help me save the Homo Sapiens Sapiens species from pulling a drawn-out Kurt Cobain. Or help me write the grandest epitaph a species could ever ask for. I’ll be fulfilled artistically either way. And I’ll educate this civilization, or I’ll educate the next post-death with my body of work. I just really enjoy making art and being creative, you know?

So join me on this incredible journey. I have all this poetry and prose to enjoy. Most of it is free right here on this website via the dropdowns at the top, sorted for you already. And many more projects are always coming soon, or already launched, of course!

For example, one of my current ongoing goals is to become the most prolific poet of all time. I’ve currently published over two thousand between my poetry books and here on www.McRaeWrites.com and am slowly catching up to the top two of Shakespeare at 3500 and Bradburne at 6000 poems respectively! (And that’s only counting what I’ve written since starting my business in 2019!)

A final note…

All of my work and projects are designed and written exclusively for an 18+ audience. If you’re not in that demographic, kindly go away and come back in however many years. My work and online presence is not for you, and you shouldn’t be reading it or engaging with me at all if you’re not mature enough to cope with serious, dark, or philosophical themes.

Thanks!

Otherwise, enjoy the free literature, and have a lovely day!

Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.

-McRae