I’m not very good at being ‘normal’. I tried it.
In fact, I tried very hard. But the more I tried, the more I ended up seeming like a paid-actor hired into a sample group. I didn’t really fit in, so I learnt what I should say. But then, my rehearsed, polished answers were a little too good to be trusted.
One of the benefits of now having an official autism diagnosis is seeing why the disconnect takes place. When many people recommend certain actions, they don’t often expect you to do it.
Based upon everything we’ve discussed, I believe you clearly fit within the threshold of autism’.
I couldn’t help but smile.
I feel like getting my autism diagnosis is a cause for celebration. I can now actually describe myself as Autistic. I don’t need to caveat as ‘probably autistic’ or question whether I really am or not anymore. What I had basically assumed to be the case 7 months ago turns out to actually be true.
Some people will find my reaction quite surprising. After all, isn’t getting an assessment for a neurological and development disorder actually meant to feel bad?
‘What you might call a burnout, I would call a mutiny of the soul’.
A curious phrase. I had never thought about it that way.
It was what that John Patrick Morgan said to me this week on a phone call as he was doing his gardening.
My recent months of introspection have been far more scientific medical than spiritual. Whilst the last few years was far more about exploring the existential, 2024 has been a lot more about trying to rationalise and diagnose.
Yet, there was a reason I turned to spiritual teachings in the first place. There are limits to the scientific – the rational can only explain so much.
Photo by Thong Vo on Unsplash I’ve felt a bit humbled this week. For all the returns of energy and activity over the last few months, over the last few days, I’ve felt really tired. I effectively cancelled any and all social plans. On top of that, I’ve also had regular bouts of anxiety. It’s […]
Photo by Jornada Produtora on Unsplash I’ve known for a long time that I have a hard time receiving things. I’m not talking about literal presents, but receiving help, support or even words of encouragement. It’s only until recently that I really learnt to appreciate compliments people give me – in the past I would […]
I was back in the UK this week, staying in my parent’s house.
When I went to take a shower, I saw that a spider had taken over the bathtub. There was an impressive amount of webs that had covered the whole area.
I needed the shower, but I saw that it would most definitely kill it. So with a bit of paper I managed to poke at it.
I couldn’t help but reflect that my act of mercy on this poor spider probably felt like a deeply traumatic event for it. I had come along and essentially destroyed its home, along with hurting it from its fall.
Anger is often seen as a negative emotion. Anger is often synonymous to being petulant or violent. We get angry because we are not accepting something that we ‘should’.
In many social settings, it’s seen as better to refrain from displaying anger. Anger is seen as impolite, or inconsiderate.
It’s true that uncontrolled anger can be unhealthy, and even dangerous. When we are consumed with rage, it can be hard to think clearly. We might act on impulse, or enter into violence.
But the problem is that by trying to avoid conflict, we often unintentionally suppress our anger. Suppressed emotions doesn’t lead to a healthy emotional status.
Recently, I realised how boring I had made my own life.
That’s not to say my life is objectively ‘boring’. To many it probably seems I do lots of fun and adventurous things. But subjectively, it’s felt unexciting. The things I’ve been doing haven’t felt particularly enjoyable.
In the quest for commitment, consistency and hailing ‘the grind’, I seemed to lose the idea that things were meant to be fun.
I think I have been suppressing my chaotic nature. I’m an emotional being who thrives upon a mix of planned and spontaneous excitement. It’s what makes me buzz and really thrive in life.
Just as I arrived at St Pancras, my internet reconnected. I refreshed the BBC Sports page to find Ollie Watkins score a 90th minute winner. Welcome home. Perhaps football will be coming home too? But is the UK actually home for me anymore?
Not only that, but this was the first time coming back to the UK since the General Election. The result was both a mix of momentousness and anticlimax. For the first time in a long while I felt like I could actually be somewhat content with the result. That’s probably the first time in the last ten elections I’ve followed.
More fundamentally though, I find myself falling into the sense of questioning how much will really be different.
When our life routine gets thrown up in a huge way, it can be hard to not fall into a sense of despair. I’ve questioned myself a lot. Sometimes I’ve felt guilty for taking time for myself. Other times, I’ve wondered whether I’ll ever recover again.
These are legitimate questions, and is a key part of the process.
Nonetheless, solely focusing on them only leads to a downward spiral of anguish. Our brains tendency to think negatively is much stronger than its ability to look at the positives. It’s part of our survival mechanism, and it was necessary to keep ourselves alive during our evolution. So it is up to us to set a better balance.