An Exhausting Weekend

It was Bonfire Night on Sunday. Normally we're excited by fireworks, but this weekend it felt like we were under siege. There have been sporadic fireworks going off since Diwali started on the 15th October, but they were few and far between and kind of fun. TOH isn't bothered by them much and the older…

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Meltdown Feelings…

It started yesterday, with my temper flaring for no reason. It continued with a severe depressive episode that only just let up by my bedtime. It continued this morning with temper flares, sarcasm, refined carbs stuffing... My skin is crawling and I have to scratch it to make feel better. My head is pounding, My…

Chris Packham & Autism

I'm uncertain how to feel about the recent program that Chris Packham did about autism (I'll admit now that I haven't seen it properly) but while I'm glad that such a prominent member of our Tribe has spoken up publically, is it going to help us?A couple of years ago there was a buzz about…

Don’t shame us for being chameleon

This is almost exactly how I see myself now – I’m not as empathic as Briannon clearly is, but that empathy is what makes me change to be whatever the other person needs me to be.
Only with TOH am I free to be completely me…

Briannon Lee

I learned I was autistic in my 30s. Not long afterwards, I came across the word chameleon to describe how many autistic people change our communication, voice, interests, and actions to mirror the people we are with, or to fit in with the norms of a group.

Looking back on the way I had survived school, university, workplaces and early motherhood, I totally identified with this description of myself as chameleon. I had indeed skillfully navigated friendships and relationships by taking on the interests and communication style of others.

Having this realisation about my relationships with others was unsettling. I felt like being a chameleon meant I had lost something of myself along the way. It was as if the discovery of one part of me had made the core of me a mystery. I wondered, ‘do I even know who I am and what I like and what I…

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Social Media

Social Media; what’s it for? Talking to your friends? Arguing with your enemies? Persuading other people that your view is right? Causing pain to those you hate? Surely it could be for so much more? Playground semantics rule the sites, Bullying so much more subtle, Gas lighting and manipulation common, Cliques form and break up,…

Recipe Post: Barry’s Mince

When I cook, I use all my senses… which is pretty normal, I suppose, but in my case if I don’t get the smell, taste or look right, my family won’t be happy (on a large scale). This recipe is a case in point, and I’ll explain why as I go along… It’s named for…

Staying Mum…

I'm nearly 20 weeks pregnant at the moment and nothing feels like it's happening the way it should. It's not as if I haven't been here before - after all I have NOS, PT and PW - but with them, the pregnancies progressed in the same way that the books tell me they should. I'm…

You Three, Not Me.

On the outside looking in, Walking through life on your own, No matter how large a group you’re with, You never have a friend. Watching everyone having fun, Making plans. Someone comes along. A tiny light of hope in your mind, You open up your heart to them, Show them who you are. They seem…

Being a Mother

I have this absurd idea of what a family is supposed to be like. It's an amalgamation of all the things that I've absorbed from TV, Movies, books as I grew up.  That's how ASD kids learn a lot of the time, you see; it means that we tend to have odd notions of how…

A Silly Tale

I love this – it’s a perfect allegorical explanation for melting down and burning out.

Finally Knowing Me: An Autistic Life

My Executive is not functioning
Their suit is creased,
They cannot find their papers
And their briefcase
Is full of ash.

The ash is from my burnout
And it spills all over the office
In great clouds,
Covering everything
In a fine dust
That will take some time
To clean up.

In the meantime
My constant hand flapping
Is spreading the ash still further
And it reflects the light
Coming in from the windows
And makes stimmy patterns
In the air.

When the ash settles on the desk
I like to run my fingers through it
And make circles in it
And then wash my hands
Because it feels a bit weird
On my skin.
Sand is nicer to play with.

My Words keep going AWOL
But they never leave a forwarding address
They just disappear.
I think they go off for a holiday
Sometimes.
Or perhaps they’re just down…

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