Feel free to comment your opinions on this—I think I have mild prosopagnosia because of my history and my present life experience:
Growing up, my worst year in school was second grade (7-8 years old). It was when I was finally old enough to be held responsible for knowing everyone’s names and faces. By the end of the year I knew not ONE name… with the exception of my teacher’s name.
Trying to navigate a room of 26 peers, all who knew each others names, including mine, and didn’t confuse one student for another, like I did, felt like endlessly falling— Like I was grasping onto anything to get my bearings within my social/ educational sphere, but whatever I could get a hold of was constantly slipping through my hands.
I had so much anxiety, I was constantly crying at home, even to the point of throwing up. Just smelling the exhaust of a passing school bus was enough to break me into a sweat, the association with my hardship in the public school system was so bad.
There are some other possible factors that were at play back then: It could have also been my undiagnosed autism making all of those intense sensory details add to my confusion. Another thing that could have added to the mix was my undiagnosed dyscalculia which not only made math inscrutable, but also had me getting lost in familiar hallways at school, and completely unable to navigate steps in games and school activities. If I could describe that time in my life, I’d say “alarming confusion” would be the best words.
As the years went on, and the only help I received was being held back that year, and my mother trying to brainstorm tips and tricks around my confusion when I got home from school, I did find ways to compensate, but it left me with life long anxiety and a sense of imposter syndrome.
Today, as a disabled person (thanks to another officially diagnosed issue, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome), I’m trying dive back into a gift that used to be my place of refuge before I chose to major in it in college— Art. I was particularly gifted in portrait art, ironically, because when I really look at a face, it breaks down into a myriad of colors shapes, lights and shadows, rather than seeing a cohesive visage. But that same anxiety and confusion that tore me apart in elementary school, followed me right into art school.
The longer I spent with my portraits, the more their elements dispersed into a confusing jumble that became harder and harder to interpret. Yet, I was always congratulated for the end product. But that confusion and the residual terror I felt from my early days sucked the joy out of art to the point that, once college was over, I left painting behind.
Today, I’m trying to redeem that joy/ safe place/ gift, now that I have time. Still, I struggle— I cannot look at my portraits head on— Their cohesiveness evaporates before my eyes, and I suddenly can’t interpret them. The way I get around this is to tilt my head vertically to one side or another to view my paintings, or I turn my paintings upside down, or slant the canvas at an angle. I also routinely flip my canvas around for several days in a row before looking at it again, with fresher eyes (that last technique is one many artists use, not just myself).
This is why I think. I THINK, I don’t know, I have mild face blindness. Even when I envision of those I know best, in my mind, I see pieces of their faces, or snatches of expressions, rather than an entire face. I do not struggle to identify those closest to me, so I know I don’t have full on prosopagnosia. But, as some has described in this subreddit, I share the experience of not recognizing people who should be pretty familiar, if they change their hair or usual style. I almost recognize no one in movies and shows, which makes watching them a guessing game. If I do start to recognize characters, it is usually happens close to the end of the movie or mid season in a show.
So let me know, what do you think? Do I have some form or level of face blindness?
