It is my understanding that certain languages lack vocabulary to distinguish "skills" from "abilities" like we do in English. The distinction is generally understood, but for a quick rundown:
The nice thing about having two words for these related concepts is that it becomes possible to conceive of having one, but not the other.
Having four functional limbs, I have the ability to construct a dog house—but I lack the skill because I don't know how to do this.
Having the knowledge to lift, I have the skill to carry a 60-lbs bag—but I lack the ability because my body isn't conditioned to do so.
If you've ever seen an upset child, you might understand how explosive a tantrum can be. Assuming it's not a regular occurrence, can you imagine the internal turmoil a child must experience to begin expressing oneself in this way? It must be a lot to handle.
As a society, we generally expect a child to grow out of such behaviour—they should, with time, learn to control their emotions. That is what we call "emotional maturity".
However, the assumption that controlling one's emotions is a behaviour that can be learned carries with it the implication that emotional regulation is a skill. This belief is then just a step away from assuming that someone who can't regulate their emotions simply needs to be taught the right steps, and that if they fail to acquire the "skill" then they must not be trying hard enough.
Seemingly common in software developers, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder is known among many things to cause emotional dysregulation. Those with ADHD will get upset more easily, will get euphoric more easily, and may have a rougher time recovering from a setback than is ordinarily expected. The reason for this is simple; Those with ADHD tend to have a slightly—and I mean ever so slightly—underdeveloped frontal lobe compared to the general population, which is the part of the brain where emotional regulation happens. Emotions are of course a process involving biochemistry, and if something physically goes awry then so does the reaction.
Thankfully, many people with ADHD have—in part due to a deep understanding of their own emotional dysregulation—learned to control their reactions. They'll step away when things get too heated. I count myself among them.
The problem is that things can get heated quite easily, quickly. Sometimes when running into a technical issue with software I'm trying to run or code I'm trying to write, I'll just get very upset. I sometimes try to push on, but the emotional state often interferes with my ability to think rationally. I can understand logically that this software that isn't working right is probably buggy, but in the moment all I can think of is that I must be making a mistake and that I'm not trying hard enough to fix it.
The trouble with allowing myself to think I should try harder when I can't think straight? Digging myself even deeper, when I'm alone and foolishly determined.
When the frustration gets especially bad, it can often burn away an entire day's worth of work. That's not an exaggeration. I've long ago accepted that this is simply something that happens to me. It has come to a point where I try to use my emotional state as a way to gauge whether it's worth investing much more time into something that frustrates me, or if I should try another solution to the problem at hand. Sometimes though, all I need is a fresh head.
A problem is that I will sometimes treat emotional regulation as a skill even when I intellectually know that it is just an ability that is simply weak. Underdeveloped, not atrophied.
It's unfortunate that emotional dysregulation is treated by so many others as a skill instead of an ability. The consequential ableism is—of course—quite dire. It is also unfortunate that as a result I've gotten quite skilled at trying to force myself through the turmoil despite knowing that it's unhelpful.
They say "Knowing is half the battle," which while true ultimately means there's an entire half of the battle that is certainly much more difficult than simply acquiring knowledge.
This intent of this post is not to be dour, or to elicit sympathy. I'm really, truly, doing fine despite getting incensed at my spouse's Steam Deck for making it so difficult to upload files to it over Wi-Fi when all I wanted to do was play a specific game on the living room TV. I eventually figured out how to upload it to a different computer that was also hooked up to the living room TV and spent the day having a good time of it.
Really, what I want this article to be is a reminder of the skill we can all try to learn: Giving someone grace when they fail. You never know what a person struggles with. Sometimes you'll simply never be able to teach someone to overcome something because no amount of skills will suffice. That doesn't mean it's pointless however; When one route of action fails, it's time to try another.