Category: Neurodivirgence

Seaside musings, a coastal diary series. (Part TWO – Scene THREE)

Joey Clyde the crocodile, working on DownSideUp

THREE | Musical Synchronicity in Full Swing

PART TWO – SCENE THREE
Sunday, September 24th, 2023

FADE IN:
INT. FAMILY APARTMENT, NIEUWPOORT BELGIUM – MORNING

See me sitting at the computer, trusted cup of coffee at hand, clicking and typing industriously. I am finally getting around to updating my website, reworking the layout of the basic pages. I had been meaning to do this overhaul for a while now, but I kept postponing it because life was happening. I was also having too much fun documenting all of those happenings in the words you read on here. Which is perfectly fine. Live while Iโ€™m alive and sleep when I am dead and all that, as Bon Jovi used to sing. 

Today however, I do have a use for this restful Sunday. While the coastal town is busy bustling with activity, I am avoiding all that hustle by web designing with a view. It is nice to take a break for once. Iโ€™d been running on fumes for a while now, as I spoke about at length in the first part of this seaside series. But it wasnโ€™t all stress and bad energy that left me in need of a break. After resurfacing from the dark abyss, I found the music again with Pete Bernhard at The Black Flamingo in March and I havenโ€™t stopped seeing amazing shows (both large and small) since then. 

On my fathers birthday in April and the second show of Peteโ€™s I saw, I decided to get DownSideUp going again. I will be eternally grateful to Jo because as I said before , he played an integral part in me firing this website up again. Me being my neurodivergent self, I needed this space back online as soon as I could. This meant not thinking too much about where I wanted to go with this, and just throwing something together to get to posting. I didnโ€™t want to lose myself in my overly perfectionist former marketing & communications self, and lose the momentum of writing. I am so glad I told UX, SEO and all that jazz to fuck right off. 

But today, I carved out a bit of time to rework and translate. The design is still far from perfect, but from now on I live by the creed that done is always better than perfect. (And to be fair, perfection probably doesnโ€™t even really exist, another man-made concept to steer clear of.) In any case, at least now the setup makes more sense and brings focus to what is the most important: THE WORDS! And seeing as how my bilingual narrator writes in both Dutch and English, I decided to translate the basic pages to the latter language. Most Flemish and Dutch people understand English anyway and Iโ€™m making international friends again who wouldnโ€™t be able to understand the Dutch bits. So there, fixed(-ish). 

Hunger calls me back to reality and I venture out for some much needed carbs to accompany my lovely meaty treat I bought yesterday. Something pulls at my gut again and I step into a store on the way back. There I find this cutie calling my name. My neurodivergent ass LOVES stuffed animals, so I could not resist when I saw this soft crocco-fella. 

Julie happily smiling while holding her new friend

On the way home I named him Joey Clyde, for Joey Steel and Clyde McGee, as a reminder of a spectacular Friday and this subsequent ‘finding myself’ holiday at the coast. You will remember Clyde from that fateful Pete Bernhard gig in April at Tequila Tattoos, that helped set things in motion for the reemergence of DownSideUp. Heโ€™d promised me then to get me on the guestlist for his Bridge City Sinners show, which he graciously did. (Remember that BEST GIG OF THE YEAR bit in part one of this series? Yes, it was them. I will tell you ALL about it in due time.) Synchronicitous as always, this song starts playing in my headphones while I am writing this. 

But have I told you about my friend Joey? I met him last year at Punk in Drublic and we have kept in contact ever since. He’s an amazing musician and singer in FIVE bands, an anarchist and LGBTQIA+ ally, a great thinker and self proclaimed shit talker, with his own most interesting podcast ‘Dispatches from the Underground‘. He’s also a tour manager and any band fortunate enough to count them into their entourage, should thank their lucky stars. (He will be prominently featured in the imminent Bridge City Sinners post.)

Thanks to Joey, I got to invite Jo, Tiho and Ann & David (Whom Iโ€™d met at the Whiskey Dick/James Hunnicutt double bill at The Black Flamingo. More on them later, because the music brought us back together for Gipsy Rufina and Kiel Grove a few weeks ago. That is YET ANOTHER series of posts I am working on!) to experience the chaos that was that amazing Bridge City Sinners gig with me. He made that night even more special for me, because I could share the music and pay it all forward by getting those lovely people on the guest list.

When I got to the apartment, I noticed Joey Clyde had a stitch loose on his neck which I fixed with needle and thread, giving him a badass scar. Joey recently underwent a major surgery, resulting in a similarly badass scar on his neck. Musical synchronicity in full force right there. (Have you noticed this is scene three? I HAVE!) 

Me and Joey at Trefpunt Gent after the Bridge City Sinners show

I will forever treasure my new crocodile friend Joey Clyde as a visual reminder of a mindblowing night and seaside holiday.

Tiho, me and Clyde at Trefpunt Gent after the Bridge City Sinners show

Follow Clyde McGee:

And check out his bands:

  • Bridge City Sinners
  • Clyde and the Milltailers

Follow Joey Steel:

And check out his bands:

  • All Torn Up!
  • Skull Caster
  • Cop/Out
  • JS & the Attitude Adjusters
  • Bowhead
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Seaside musings, a coastal diary series. (Part ONE – Scene ONE)

Julie geniet al schrijvend van de schommelende strandstoel en de muziek

ONE | Wherein I am no longer my own worst enemy.

PART ONE – SCENE ONE
Saturday, September 23rd, 2023

FADE IN:
EXT. BEACH BAR, NIEUWPOORT BELGIUM – DAY

I am sitting at a beach bar in Nieuwpoort, the day after another one of my favourite nights and shows of the year. I have several, they keep on accumulating. Youโ€™d think that at some point I wouldnโ€™t be yelling โ€˜THIS WAS THE BEST GIG OF THE YEARโ€™, but here we are. 

I was on the way to the butcher for a delicious meaty treat for myself (I know, I am an awful animal lover!) and wanted to walk with the North Sea in full view. I followed my gut away from the busy looking bit of the dike of Nieuwpoort beach. Seeing the squirming of all the sunny Saturday tourists made me stop in my tracks, think to myself โ€˜NOPE, not todayโ€™ and swiftly turn the other way. The reward for trusting my gut feeling was nearly instant. After noping out of the first bar (WAY too loud and hip for my taste) I settled on the second beach bar in sight. Swing chairs with a dune and ocean view? Yes, please! I settled in, put my headphones on and fired up the Spotify playlist I started with my good friend Jo.ย 

How synchronicitous that this song should come on while writing this. The lyrics are etched into my soul.

Took me two years to write this song, I wanted it perfect, no wrinkles in it.
Took me a long time to come clean, To be honest, the truthโ€™s so ugly.

No matter how far I run, I always end up back here.
No matter how far I go, I always end up back here.
In the mirror, in the mirror, in the mirror, only in the mirror.

I always felt so out of placะต, In a crowded room, I speak too soon
Yeah I put a big smilะต on my face, I canโ€™t let them know itโ€™s all for show, No

Iโ€™m tired of running, Iโ€™m tired of running, Iโ€™m tired of running, Iโ€™m tired of running, Iโ€™m tired of running, Iโ€™m tired of running, Iโ€™m tired of RUNNING

The Interrupters – In the Mirror

I saw The Interrupters earlier this year (in the chaotic gig-filled month of June I am still scrambling to write fully about.) and broke my voice while singing along to this song. It was yet another cathartic experience in this insanely amazing year of music, that keeps piling those moments on top of each other. But I digress.

As I sit lie here, contentedly swinging in my beach chair while writing, a gentle sea breeze blows through my hair. I realise I am no longer my own worst enemy. In fact, I am thoroughly enjoying my own company. No outside stressors or responsibilities. Just me myself and I, tuning the world out by way of The Best Playlist in the World. The salty sea air in my nose, my notebook at hand and barely any humans in sight. All I see is sandy dunes, a lot of sunshine with a few clouds, the beautiful North Sea and some kites floating merrily in the wind.

The dunes and clouds of Nieuwpoort Bad

It all emphasises how sorely I needed this getaway after nearly three years of constant stress, darkness & self-doubt. Iโ€™ve resurfaced after one of the worst periods in my life in general. First there was the burnout and subsequent depression that I could not seem to crawl out of. Followed by a stupid incident in which I broke my foot and the slow healing process over the gruellingly boring summer of 2021. Then a string of injuries and illness in the family, resulting in the caring for (and about) both my mother and father. (Which left the summer of 2022 without music as well, aside from Punk in Drublic.)

Then came the death of my father around this time last year, and another tumble down that jet black abyss followed. The music and Purple People saved me from that one. As I was slowly crawling out of that hole, I ended a 17 year long relationship and started a nine month long, intense group therapy process which I am now halfway through. I might not have been working, but my mind never seemed to get a moment’s rest either way. 

How the fuck did I ever expect to get myself out of a burnout that had been in the works for YEARS, while still burning the candle at both ends? It was delusional to think I could have done it alone. Nevertheless, I am sure that this sequence of events was not without meaning in and of itself. I am sure to my core I needed to pass through all of that to end up here. Both figuratively and literally speaking. I needed to end up here, at this exact moment in time, in this particular place in space. I will look back on this and see what a huge step it will have been in my healing process. I am beyond sure of that. 

Over the last couple of years I had been having these weird anxiety filled stress dreams, about being near the sea and not finding my way to the beach. I have been YEARNING to put my feet in the ocean and feel the wind in my hair since before the lockdown of 2020. I have finally arrived and made it to my own private beachfront holiday.

I am bathing myself in profoundly precious memories in the coastal town where my grandparents bought an apartment the year I was born. I spent every summer of my childhood here with my family. I am treasuring those echoes of the past, of my inner child deep within. Itโ€™s in the smells of the sand & sea, of the gasoline in the parking garage below the apartment. Itโ€™s in the view of the beautifully repainted waterfront property with the words Inchโ€™ Allah embedded in the stone. It always links back to the music, in this case the song by Adamo, an artist I dearly love courtesy of my mother and grandmother.

Being here on this second day of Autumn, enjoying probably one of the last Indian summer days of the year, feels positively magical. I spent a chaotic but intensely rewarding day yesterday getting over a LOT of fears, both real and imaginary. (Fear of heights and roller coasters, group dynamics, traffic and bad weather combined with very tight schedules and timelines. A right mess for a neurodivergent person such as myself.) It morphed into one of the best days and nights of 2023. (And that is saying something!) I was surrounded by good friends and like minded souls in the midst of the all encompassing piece of life that is The Music.

I feel like I am finally discovering myself as an actual person. And most importantly, I like that face staring back at me in the mirror, for the first time in maybe EVER.

'The most beautiful thing you can become is yourself' - picture of Julie taken (in the mirror) at Trefpunt Ghent
‘The most beautiful thing you can become is yourself’ – taken (in the mirror) at Trefpunt Ghent

That all of this should happen NOW and HERE is nothing less than prophetic. It is fate. It is destiny. It is another bit of proof I am walking the right road. MY road. The road I was meant for from the start. Iโ€™ve been walking it all along, but I just now passed the bit in between where there were no lights, signage or roadmarks. It feels good to be on the other side. To be able to breathe and let go of the anxieties that have been stuck to me for all these years. I see a light at the end of the tunnel and I am walking towards it. Smiling to myself. Following where the music takes me next.

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(Re)make myself.

White Fluffy Clouds

A promise to no longer be my own worst enemy. A story about neurodivergence and acceptance in three songs.

I got my ADHD diagnosis last year at the ripe โ€˜oldโ€™ age of 36. In learning more about it, a LOT finally started to make sense. Why the life I was building for myself never really seemed to fit me. Why I never seemed to reach my own potential. However, there was still a puzzle piece missing. I got tested for both ADHD & Autism Spectrum Disorder at the same time. I had become so adept at masking myself, I did not get diagnosed as being on the spectrum. In subsequently talking to people, and reading up about autism and neurodivergence, I realised that diagnosis was wrong. I am both autistic and have ADHD. All those little quirks and difficulties I experienced all through life suddenly became one of two. The constant battle in my head between order and chaos was suddenly very clear. 

My life was made of masks, one for every occasion. First I hid my true self away, out of fear of not being accepted. Of being seen as weak. Of being perceived as weird. Of being thought of as a failure. Of being known as difficult. I became the person I thought I should be, not the person I actually was. It was a recipe for disaster. I was a ticking time bomb waiting to erupt. Last year I finally learned why everything always seemed SO much harder for me. Life in general, school, work and interpersonal relationships. 

But when I learned about, and started to accept and work around my (self)diagnosis as AuDHD, that became a mask in and of itself. I started to apologise for myself and my way of thinking about things and my way of doing things because of what those disorders meant to me. I have ADHD so I must be LOUD and OBNOXIOUS, SORRY. At the same time I am autistic, but because I am such a LOUD AND OBNOXIOUS ADHD’er, I didnโ€™t feel like I had the right to claim the space, peace and tranquillity I needed. It was a constant struggle with myself and not in the least, with the people around me. 

This year, right around the time I was rediscovering myself in the music and the words, I started group therapy in a clinic near me. I am so unbelievably grateful for having found that path. In the last three and a half months I have learned SO much about myself and moreover, myself in the world around me. It has been challenging and confronting at every turn. But I am slowly learning to understand myself and treat myself with the same compassion and empathy with which I approach other people. Itโ€™s a process with big ups and downs, but it is so unbelievably rewarding.

It really should not have come as such a surprise to me that I am my own worst enemy. I make life so much harder on myself by trying to do everything right. For myself, but especially for those around me. I adapted a mask very early on, hid myself away and pretended to be strong for years. Because I thought that was helping those around me, not having to worry about me and the dark abyss I was tumbling into. In reality, by pretending to be made of stone, I continued the fallacy that we should all be made of granite. That there is no room for us to crumble, even just a little. 

I am now slowly learning that vulnerability is a strength and not a weakness. How itโ€™s okay to not be okay. And how in showing and talking about my own struggles, others learn to find the words to describe their fragility and pain as well. There is beauty in recognition and unity in commiseration. We all struggle with things, why not struggle together? A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved. Because in sharing and commiserating, we can all grow together.

This blog started as a simple foreword to a piece about music. I was going to write about finding synchronicity in music again thanks to two shows by Gipsy Rufina & Kiel Grove. (Don’t worry, I WILL get to them!) How reconnecting with Ann, whom I met at the James Hunnicutt & Whiskey Dick gigs, led me to watch Coco again and what that meant to me in this dark September month. But the foreword developed a mind of its own and turned into this. It was meant as a sort of apology to all the bands and artists I promised my words to over the last couple of months. But in letting loose and just following the words, I realise I have nothing to apologise for.

Thereโ€™s something to be said for continuity and following the precise sequence of events. Itโ€™s nice and neat and comprehensible. (Some might even call it Nice & Accurate!) It is expected. Iโ€™m usually a stickler for doing things by the rules. It brings order to my disorderly brain. But I keep losing myself in trying to do everything perfectly. In thinking more of what my actions (or inactions) might signify to others, than in realising how hard those thoughts are weighing ME down.

I am trying to break away from that to preserve my own sanity and build myself back up in the best way possible. So I donโ€™t get burnt out from the thing that was curing my burnout. So for now I am done following the rules and promises I made in my head, because they were preventing me from telling the stories. 

From now on the stories will be posted as they present and write themselves in my head. The stories recorded during this magical, musical summer (and beyond) WILL get told with all the love I felt while experiencing it. But in their own time, in my time.

Hereโ€™s to chaos and anarchy. Hereโ€™s to doing things my way. 

RESIST. UNLEARN. DEFY.

An aside about the songs: The three songs in this blog are by a band that has a very special significance to me. Remember that message board I wrote about in my last blog on Terry Pratchett? Well, it was called Incuboard and was dedicated to Incubus. Sort of, anyway. I met some very special people there and I still remember that period very fondly. I lost track of the band a little around when they brought out Light Grenades. But I will never lose track of their previous albums and songs. They helped make me who I am to this day. They ring as true now, as they did back then.

I subconsciously chose three songs off the same album Make yourself. This was not planned, even though the title of this blog was inspired by the title song from that album. Synchronicity I guess. In threes, as always. The cover picture is inspired by a lovely art book the singer made, called White Fluffy Clouds. His art very much inspired my own. The piece below was my vague interpretation of the cover art of his book.

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Guided by Angels – Ode to Amyl (And The Sniffers) in 3 parts

  • Part one: Rounding off the Edges – Guided by Angels
  • Part two: Live! Amyl And The Sniffers (Trix)
  • Part three: Guided by Amyl

When I heard Guided by Angels for the first time, I got into a heated discussion if they might be a Christian band (theyโ€™re not). Itโ€™s not always that I look up the lyrics immediately, (though it does happen A LOT) but in this case I just fell in love instantly. If I hadnโ€™t already fallen head over heels for that pumping intro riff.

When they (inevitably, obviously) make a movie about my life, this song is going to be on the soundtrack. Right next to The Dresden Dollsโ€™ Girl Anachronism. Both songs just radiate ADHD energy to me.   

Energy, good energy and bad energy
I’ve got plenty of energy
It’s my currency
I spend, protect my energy, currency

Guided by Angels
Rounding off the Edges - Guided by Angels pt. 1 - Number 37 n the series.
Rounding off the Edges – Guided by Angels pt. 1 – Number 37 in the series.

I had to use these words somehow, in the Rounding off the Edges Series. And I did. And believe me when I say I am not yet done with their words.
All this to say: I absolutely love this band. 

Another few lyric favourites:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuL1U4BRbOo


Does my opinion really make you that sick?
Every decision, every consequences
My choice is my own, my body’s my own
Opinion is my own, I own it, I own it

And I would rather figure it out the hard way
Even if it takes a little more time
I want all the experiences I have
To be explicitly exclusively mine

Choices

Does my opinion really make you that sick?
Every decision, every consequences
My choice is my own, my body’s my own
Opinion is my own, I own it, I own it

And I would rather figure it out the hard way
Even if it takes a little more time
I want all the experiences I have
To be explicitly exclusively mine

Freaks to the front

Live! Amyl And The Sniffers (Trix)

Australian invasion of Belgium – Part one! (See The Chats for part 2)

I got to see them at Trix on November 15th 2022 and I seriously almost started crying in the audience. To say it had been a rough few months for me would be an understatement. This gig was quite literally the first fun activity I had planned since the end of August. And I still didnโ€™t really feel like going, even though I had been looking forward to it for over a year.

So I just stood there and let the energy the band emits (the song is not wrong!) wash all over me. I felt the loud basses coursing through my body. I felt the happiness and enthusiasm of the audience I was in (and then I’m not even addressing that same feeling radiating off of the stage). I felt like somewhat of a person again. Music is my home and Amyl And The Sniffers made me feel SO SO welcome.

At the time I wasnโ€™t in a writing state of mind, so I never gave them the review they deserved. But everything felt a little lighter after that day. Got to meet the lovely Amyl (Amy Taylor) & Sniffer Dec Martens post-show, hanging out by their bus. Great and funny people, so down to earth and genuinly nice. You can tell by my crazy joyous smile. Next time they’re around, I will write them that review and then some!

Julie and Dec Martens of Amyl And The Sniffers at Trix november 2023
Julie and Dec Martens at Trix november 2023

Guided by Amyl

I search, search
For the angels guiding my energy
They’re so heavenly
I love their energy
Angels return my energy heavenly
….
From the angels heavenly guidedโ€”fuck!

Guided By Angels

It might not surprise you that I have a soft spot for the lady Amy(l) who is everything I want to be when I grow up. (Yes, she is 10 years younger than me, I just never had the right role models growing up. Still learning!) The above lyric rings so true to me. (See: Circle in a Square Puzzle.) It is so hard to find the people who bring the best out in you. And so glorious when you do find them.

It took me way longer than I would have liked, but I have found some of my angels both near me and in a ‘love-you-from-afar-way’. Both are represented in the below picture.

Amy Taylor (Amyl and the Sniffers), Clumsy Crane and Seriously Hilary at Trix in november 2023
Amy Taylor (Amyl and the Sniffers), Julie and Seriously Hilary at Trix in November 2023

Amyl and the Sniffers ,15th of november 2023, Trix antwerpen

Follow Amyl and the Sniffers

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On the road with Jack Kerouac

clumsy crane studio jack kerouac

As a 36 year old, I finally understand why my younger self gravitated towards this sentence. Which is why I finally visualised it.

I was so rattled, entranced and inspired by this one line when I first read it, I may have completely forgotten to read the rest of the book. (#adhdproblems)

Then again, it has been with me now for over 20 years, wandering in and out of my consciousness. It acquired new meanings along the way but was always a beacon of recognition.

Anyway. Understanding yourself and your place in the world is so important. Just paying it forward. To whom it may inspire โค๏ธ

I used Canva and Snapseed, but don’t ask me to repeat this proces.

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Circle in a Square Puzzle

Circle in a Square Puzzle - Original artwork by Clumsy Crane Studio

Living with Neurodivergence

I am a person. But not like the others. I don’t fit the mold. I’m a circle in a square puzzle.

Yes this sounds dramatic. I’m too old to care. It feels like I am not the same shape as other people. I myself am coming to terms with that. A part of me LOVES being neurodivergent. I see SO much so many other people can’t see. But I also FEEL so much other people don’t feel as deeply. Which can be both amazing and awful, even at the same time.

Because everything is too much all at once and the world doesn’t fit my circular mold. I have to mold myself into a square to fit. And I cannot. I can tell the odd fib, though I’m admittedly bad at it.

But it is impossible for me to hide my true self, however much I may want to be the mysterious person at the back people are intrigued about. I just leak out. As soon as I feel I find my people, I stop putting on that mask.

And sometimes it is okay and I find understanding and it’s like magic. Other times, it places me so much outside of things, I forget where I’m supposed to be. And it takes me a while to notice that ‘my people’ are just ‘tolerating my presence’, not so much as actually accepting me. And when my brain does finally come to that realisation, it fucking hurts. Physically as well as mentally.

People see neurodivergents mostly as ‘unfeeling’. Autistic people don’t have emotion or empathy. They’re an AI like ChatGPT that just reasearches and mimics human behaviour. Fuck ALL of that. All the ASD people I have encountered, interacted with and read about were the exact opposite. They FEEL SO MUCH they don’t have the words to articulate just how much goes on inside.

Not necessarily because autistic people are inherently stupid as is often a stereotype. Far from it, more like. We see and feel the world differently. It is why ASD is often misdiagnosed as hypersensitivity. (Hello, my name is Julie and I am one of those misdiagnoses.) Yes, we are hypersensitive to our surroundings (Combine that with ADHD and you might just feel like you just dropped acid and the world is all COLOURS and DISTRACTIONS, but anyway.) which means our brains take a LOT of time and effort to take in a random sequence of events.

A neurotypical brain will ignore all the bits are usually deemed unnecessary/not relevant. An ASD/ADHD brain (Talking from experience, possibly other types of neurodivergence et al as well.) processes everything all at once. It is LOUD. It is messy. It is confusing. We get scared and overwhelmed.

Temple Grandin referred to it best in ‘Animals in Translation: The Woman Who Thinks Like a Cow.’ She states that she feels people with autism (or maybe even neurodiversity in general), in her experience, seem to relate well to animals. In the sense that they both get overstimulated by a world that feels unfamiliar and in response react erratically to it, when seen from the vantage point of the people whose world they ‘inhabit’. I understand the woman who thinks like a cow and both adores and understands cows. (See: my Google Photos archives for reference. So. Many. Cows. And you don’t even know how many cow accounts I follow on all the socials. Cows are THE SHIT. They deserve their own post. Anyway.)

So, I feel that I am cattle. Not in the conspiracy theorist ‘You’re all sheep man!’, but in the sense that I am in a world that isn’t familiar to me. And that it doesn’t react the way I anticipate it to react (to me). I sometimes feel like a scared cow, driven from (what I at least assume was) my herd, anxious because someone also left a glaring yellow glove on the fence and I don’t recognise it. You’d have to really read the book to get the full comparison.

In short, cows in one of her facilities reacted frenziedly to some stimulus that in the end turned out to be a yellow glove on a fence, because the yellow makes it look different and scary to their dichromatic eyes. Another story was about the contrast between the bright sunlight versus the perceived darkness in an entryway when trying to get them in for shots for instance. Combined with her recommendation for people with autism (I believe it was in ‘Thinking in Pictures: my life with autism) to try rose tinted glasses for better reading/viewing, it made me draw the comparison. (By the way, I also now wear rose tinted sunglasses and it has seriously been a gamechanger. I kept having the issue that my sunglasses were too dark to see properly in most cases, but if I didn’t wear them I would be blinded, even by limited sunlight. Now I can wear them all the time without being visually impeded. I also no longer have any issue going from the sunny garden into the darker house, huzzah!)

To any other person, it is a stupid yellow glove they ignore because it is not important in the grand scheme of things. But to me it is an eyesore that starts infiltrating my every being. It is out of place, it is wrong. MOO MOO! And the herd manager, or whoever is in charge of the cows, will say, ‘oh that cow is unruly, don’t mind her, she’s the worst of the herd’. Whereas the poor creature is just scared of the unknown. The glove. That bright yellow thing on the fence is moving in the wind and taunting her.

I’ve learned a lot about myself in the last year since my ‘half’diagnosis. For fucks sake, I read a book by Peter Vermeulen on autism that felt like my own instruction manual I had somehow always lost. How are you, with you dumb ASD test still designed for (probably cis, white male) kids, going to tell me that I am not on the fucking spectrum. Mostly because I mask so well my own partner saw me as a different person I truly was inside because I didn’t know just HOW much I was masking. I thought I took it all the way off for the people I felt safe with. Apparently I could not even manage that.

What I learned most is that I can THRIVE. If allowed. If encouraged. If understood. I had a few mentors that subconsciously tapped into that. I could be the best person, employee, friend, whateverthefuck, if they just understood. Or not necessarily understood, but at least understood that that force inside is so great, it only needs nurturing and safety.

I leave you with a quote from Peter Vermeulen. ‘You are not difficult. You are just having a difficult time.’

Small note concerning the image. That line popped into my head while working on my series ‘Rounding off the Edges”. This series and at least on of its subseries will be highlighted on here soon. You can find bits and pieces of it on the clumsy crane studio Instagram account if you’re curious.

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