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
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.
As a kid, most of my spare time was spent drawing. It was my earliest passion. I was no savant. But I suppose, on reflection, I did have at least some innate "gift". The people I colourfully produced aged just three, in bright felt tip, were anatomically correct (in as much as having, for example, … Continue reading A passion, stolen
[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.
[Feature image description: close-up view of the trunk of a Weeping Willow tree, viewed from behind the metal railings of a bridge, diagonally leading away from the bottom left to the top right of the image. The tree is resplendent with masses of bright green leaves hanging downwards. Behind the tree and its branches, a … Continue reading The same crap, on top of everything different
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.
I can never do enough. I can never be a good enough employee. I can never work hard enough I can never be organised enough I can never teach well enough Never quite convey my points well enough I'm never creative enough Never convincing enough Authentic enough Inspiring enough I can never do enough. I … Continue reading We can never do enough.
My dear, wonderful girl You had a feeling you were different. And now you know for sure. Your brain works a little differently from those of many people around you. And at times, you don't know what to make of that. Does it change anything, or does it change nothing? You've been given this label. … Continue reading To an autistic girl
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?
I've never been the kind of person to go on for the endofyearroundupsocialmediastatusupdate thing. But this year has been different, and besides, I'm blogging now. Just over five months ago, I received my formal autism diagnosis. But it feels as if this whole year has been about autism – my own, and that of my … Continue reading Things I have learnt in 2016