The other day, someone on Twitter - an autistic person who doesn't experience them - asked me what it feels like to have a meltdown. It’s not a subject I especially like talking about - I’ve attempted to write about it several times on this blog, got frustrated, and given up. This past week, I … Continue reading On meltdowns
Nothing makes me a more committed proponent of the Social Model of Disability than modern lighting. I am far more disabled, as an autistic person, than I once was. I'm far less tolerant of sensory triggers than I once was. Noise and bright lights are the things that get me more than anything, and more … Continue reading Modern lighting is rubbish.
We're nearly at the mid-point in January 2018, and I'm only just now writing my first post of the year. I didn't even do an end-of-year retrospective to see out 2017. Initially, I was reluctant to do so because the final few months felt so negative. My anxiety and stress levels during Autumn and early … Continue reading Connecting
I’ve been meaning to write something about “mild autism” for some while, but I’m seriously struggling for time, energy, and whatnot. I might address it in my own way eventually, but in the meantime I share Rhi’s wonderful post. This piece utterly NAILS all the issues I have with the term, and how I feel so much of the time.
In 2016 I wrote a post that seemed to capture people’s imagination in a way that others didn’t. Autscriptic has since been shared far and wide.
It taught me that there is great power in sharing conversations between neurotypes: Laying bare the misunderstandings that tangle us up.
The first Autscriptic was about the trials of masking, this Autscriptic is about the times when I’ve had people quantify my autism based on how well I can smile. Once again it is not me recounting any one conversation, it’s a story based on many conversations I have had. Usually with people who know little about me and less about my autism diagnosis.
You must have a mild form
Mild and soft and gentle as a summer rain?
What does mild mean?
Well, you’re not very… flappy. You can talk, you can look at me. I just mean you…
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I'm a little sporadic with my blog posts at the moment. Things have been busy. We're approaching Christmas, it's the end of a long and very difficult term at work, the kids are full-on, I'm tired, and whatnot. And the truth is, the past few months have been somewhat dark. That happens sometimes. But something … Continue reading And now I draw in colour.
I'm glad that my daughter and I have resurrected our living room discos. When I was pregnant with her brother, we stopped. And for a long while afterwards we didn't do it. But over the past few months, even as my mood has gradually darkened, we've been dancing again. And tonight, I dance with sweet abandon. The physicality is all. My very being craves it. And afterward, I feel replenished, nourished, and full of love.
Less than a fortnight ago, I wrote about being "rigid". I explained about my need for schedules, plans, and organisational strategies. My need to prepare, and my alarm and anxiety in the face of uncertainty and ambiguity. It's there in my pre-assessment mapping to the DSM-V guidelines, under my response to Criterion B2, exemplified by: … Continue reading Are we REALLY that inflexible?
Over a decade ago, when I was working as a low-level administrator in a university student support unit, I remember a student who was a regular and frequent visitor to our service. He came in virtually every day. He spoke in a staccato, "mechanical"-sounding voice. He always wore the same choice of clothing: blue outdoor … Continue reading Why I “can’t possibly be Autistic”, Reason #3: I’m not THAT rigid, right?
Wearing sunglasses helps me cope with noise. And yes, I do mean noise in an auditory sense. But this doesn't have anything to do with synaesthesia which, to the extent I've analysed myself and my perceptions of the world so far, is not something that I experience. Over time since my diagnosis, I've reflected and reflected … Continue reading I wear sunglasses to deal with the noise.
I've been something of a performer all my life. At primary school, it was drama. I never got to be the heroine or the pretty princess, but that didn't bother me (mostly). Gleeful, gorgeous, grotesque riches were bestowed upon me in the form of 'character' parts: witches, ghosts, and anyone requiring an accent. I got … Continue reading Performance