In becoming visible, we encourage others to do the same. This creates momentum and so can lead to change. But, in doing so, we can be measured in what we share, and this too is our right.
We are a “lost generation”, who are finding themselves. We’re adult autistics, diagnosed later in life, and we are all pioneers! The truth of this hits me everyday as I find new people to marvel at, and so many new voices emerging from the shadows of invisible neurological difference. Yet, being first is both excitingContinue reading “We are pioneers! Join us on our new autistically designed, built & curated project website! #autism”
Yes, yes, yes…okay, okay. Alright. I boil washed another jumper! It’s becoming a thing – a metaphorical thing. This post is about access and exclusion. It’s about a stripy jumper made out of scratchy wool that doesn’t fit. Like that awful Xmas gift (that keeps on itching) – you really don’t want it but you haveContinue reading “When only autism will do.”
I follow trails – endless trails, down endless rabbit holes it seems, which echo with endless bile and all that political chatter. Not idle. No. But quite quite mountainous.
And yet my ‘unusual brain’ (a bloodhound of sorts) hunts on (and on). Seeking patterns to arrive at meanings. This time predicated on fear.
I think that for ‘neurologically biased’ we should read neurological privilege and allow that working accommodations begin right there. But first the bias must be revealed and spoken.
I saw the most beautiful film called The Red Ballon. This film is autistically beautiful to me. It speaks to me in a language I understand as autistic. A language of objects and poetry.
This is about breath, blood and bone. The only thing we truly know is in our bodies. We must trust our bodies.
Covered in dust and dried blood these infants say nothing. They walk with wide unblinking eyes and are led by the hand by strangers. They observe the adults around them. A mother, clothed in the same matter, cries for her children who are all dead. A youth carries a bundle in his arms as he weeps. His dead baby brother. Without a father he takes his place.
The other day I imagined the difficulty managing information flow (of all kinds including sensory) and coordinating responses in autism as the want of a traffic cop at an intersection during rush hour.
Blogging is such a good way to let off steam and to disseminate information for autistic people. Those of us newer to the game can quickly find our blogging forays replicated many times over in the online journey’s of other autistic adults. This is comforting. Comforting in that we find ourselves reflected and validated, oftenContinue reading “Mentors, peer support and fairy lights #autism”