This is an excerpt from my latest book Dear Hannah: 70 Methods I Used and Abused to Change Who I Am.

New Year’s Resolution to Become Neurotypical

Date: December 19, 2008

Age: 26

Location: Makati, Philippines

Subject: New Year’s Resolution To Become Neurotypical

Hi Hannah,

Why am I here? I hate flying, I hate long trips, but most of all I have too many things I need to think about.

To kill time, I glue myself to my laptop and play Team Fortress 2. I now spend more time talking to my squadron via voice chat, barking orders about who to shoot on what floor of which burned-out warehouse, than I do talking with people in real life. My mom pleads with me every day, “Come meet such-and-such person who holds such-and-such office,” and my stubborn resistance kills her, which in tandem hurts me back.

My mental health is as bad as it could ever be. I spend a lot of time alone, wandering the Ayala Center–which is now this sprawling, modernized, open-air mall–and I just sit by the water fountain, thinking over and over again about what I’m going to do for work. I haven’t started any new projects in the last two months. iPhone app development was supposed to be my dream job, and so I’m back to square one with work. On the walk back to my parent’s condo, I have the most intense, self-destructive, introspective sessions, mostly wondering about why I spend so much time thinking about thinking about thinking.

But I think there’s a silver lining to all this. I had a marathon thought-session in the shower, as I typically do, but I got so deep in mental anguish that I reached a tipping point. I promised myself, over and over again, “Please, do something about this condition.” I cried out, “This has to end, I cannot go on like this, there has to be an answer out there.” I repeated the call to myself over and over again, like a mantra, while the hot water droplets wrinkled my skin. Never before had I created such a spike in my consciousness about my mental struggles. When I got out of the shower, I felt like I had created a tower in my mind so tall it would be visible for miles and miles into the future, potentially guiding real change through my life.

And then, by the very act of this awareness, I immediately felt better. I went to my computer, but instead of logging onto Steam, I started researching again. Maybe I should try therapists again. Maybe I should give anti-depressants a second look. Maybe I should try yoga, or meditation, or religion.

Now when I wake up, I devote the entire day to a deep knowledge dive. Today, I read research paper after research paper on anti-depressants. The process threw me for a loop, because I hadn’t realized how many over-the-counter, all-natural anti-depressants there were, some even supported by The Cochrane Review. Which makes complete sense. It’s not like humans have been managing psychic challenges for only the past 75 years. Shamans and elixirs are as old as time. Kava Kava, 5-HTP, Valerian Root, and St. John’s Wort are all worth a shot. Each one of these could probably keep me busy for a week as I study myself like a scientist.

There’s a blueprint for me now. A schedule even! It’s like I have a real sense of purpose, which I haven’t really felt since ThinkQuest ‘98. You always said to get my head straight first, and then the rest will follow. Why hasn’t this been my number one priority from the beginning?

- Phil

My parents returned frequently to the Philippines following the Asian financial crisis. Nearly all the Asian countries had recovered by the mid-2000s, but the Philippines lagged behind, and my dad saw an opportunity in real estate. Like a petulant adolescent, I rebelled against coming to visit; the flight would spike my neuroses, the jet lag would foster over-thinking, and I had no personal interest in traveling there or meeting anyone. It’s no surprise, then, that I would make the biggest promise of my life there.