I have a problem. I've had it most of my life. I'm scared of asking people for stuff. I've written before about my love of Dr Martens boots. What I've never mentioned before is how long it took me to actually work myself up to asking my parents for my first pair. Everyone at school … Continue reading I hate asking people for stuff.
In between bouts of abject misery, whilst I've been off work over the summer holidays I've been immersed in a nice little obsession that has gripped every single member of our four-person household. My husband was always a huge Lego fan as a child, and was always eager, from her birth, for our girl to … Continue reading In praise of the brick
[Author's note: I'm publishing this post almost simultaneously with a previous one because I had both stored up as drafts in my paper notebook, but hadn't had sufficient "get-up-and-go" to publish them until now. This is the more recent of the two.. However, I felt that the other post was sufficiently time-specific to need publishing … Continue reading It’s never all bad.
[Author's note: I'm publishing this post almost simultaneously with a subsequent one because I had both stored up as drafts in my paper notebook, but hadn't had sufficient "get-up-and-go" to publish them until now. This was written a few days ago, and it doesn't quite fit my current mood – the accompanying post does. However, … Continue reading Picture this.
[Image description: a collage of four photographs, depicting freshly harvested produce from a small personal garden. Clockwise from top left: a hand holding five ripe red strawberries; a lime green plastic bucket, about a quarter full of new potatoes, still with soil on them; a metal colander containing an assortment of fresh salad leaves and … Continue reading Our little patch of green
It is what it is. I find myself having to say this so often. It's supposed to be a mantra of mindfulness. Of accepting what is, because that's all there is. Right here, right now. At the moment I find myself regretting so much, despite how often I try to convince myself that regrets are … Continue reading It is what it is.
It's my belief that I was depressed pretty much continuously from late primary school right up until some point in my mid-to-late 20s. Anecdotal evidence (...Twitter...) suggests that this is pretty typical among late-diagnosed autistics. Don't get me wrong. Aside from occasional episodes of self-injurious stimming, I rarely self-harmed. I usually managed to get out … Continue reading Why?
[Trigger warning: mental illness] To everyone who has ever known me, Recently, I've discovered something about myself. And what I'd long wondered about, and convinced myself of, was officially confirmed for me. I am autistic. To some, it will come as no surprise at all. Others may not have seen this coming. And to others … Continue reading An open letter to everyone who has ever known me.