At home, neighbours not withstanding, I have far more control and I choose to create a haven from toxic or unpleasent smells.
I started to search for activities I could do outside that didn’t exert too much physical energy but kept me busy enough so I wouldn’t go stir crazy. We had one unused raised bed in the garden; I claimed it as my own.
We have decided to take a temporary break from publishing our usual posts in order to share how our contributors are handling current lockdown measures.
Life as an autistic woman can be hard going sometimes, a balancing act between necessities that take energy from me in exchange for the means to survive and the pleasurable pursuits that replenish and restore
There are few things I find more soothing and energising than creating a problem to tangle my brain in. Sometimes when I feel utterly sapped of energy, and completely exhausted, I will spot an issue that needs solving and slowly wrap my mind around it.
Encountering the extremes of cold drew us both into that most clichéd space, the Moment, forcibly pulling our minds away from ruminating on the past or future, or tilling over an endless to-do list.
My bedroom is my safe place. It has always been my refuge from a sensory hostile world. There was a time two decades ago when it was also my prison.
In 2019 I carried out a study to explore how late-diagnosed autistic women (like me) managed their health and wellbeing. This is the last of four blog posts describing the themes I identified when analysing the interviews
Growing up as I did – trans, bicultural and autistic – without knowing how different and sensitive I was, I had accumulated layers of emotional debris that would randomly explode, wrecking life projects and relationships.
In 2019 I carried out a study to explore how late-diagnosed autistic women (like me) managed their health and wellbeing. This is the third of four blog posts describing the themes I identified when analysing the interviews