Maybe this blog needs a new name?

I’ve been misleading you all since starting this blog again at the start of year. The blog is called ‘Alice in Welshland’ but I’m not in Wales anymore. I moved to Scotland nearly 2 years ago now so maybe it should just be ‘Alice in Scotland’ now but it doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.

I think moving up here was the catalyst for me uncovering that I might actually be autistic, the ADHD I have suspected for years now but the Autism was always “No, I mean yeah that sounds like me and I do that too, but no. I’m not Autistic.” Sound familiar to anyone? You see, moving 250 miles away from home is hard for anyone but it seemed harder than it should have been, I felt like I should have been settled much sooner than I was. To be honest, I still don’t know how settled I am. I love it here, it’s a great place to live but I haven’t really found my place here yet or found my people and quite honestly, I’m lonely.

The truth is, it’s absolutely no-ones fault but my own because I have met some of the kindest, most friendly and warm-hearted people I have ever met but thanks to these innate qualities I have, friendships have never stuck, quite frankly they haven’t even really began.

I suppose when I first moved up here I didn’t really know myself, to know where to fit in and with whom I wanted to spend my time besides my boyfriend (now fiancee) and as much as I love him and spending time with him it’s not healthy for either of us for me to not have friends and people to talk to up here besides him. Now, however, I think I know who I am a bit more and I know the sort of people I want to surround myself with. The only problem now is finding them.

You are not alone.

Growing up I loved the film, Matilda. It was my absolute favourite and was always my go to watch on a sick day from school. It was definitely my OG feel good binge and recently I got curious and started to wonder why that might be.

Matilda was different, she was misunderstood, and she wanted more from life and her family than she was getting. I have spent my whole life feeling all these things. I have always been misunderstood by pretty much everyone in my life, most of all family. Don’t get me wrong I felt loved and cared for but always a little misunderstood. My parents never understood that my “tantrums” were not things I could control. I didn’t know why I was feeling angry or frustrated, I didn’t know what to do with the anger and frustration. I couldn’t express my thoughts and feelings and even in moments when I could find words to do so, they were almost always lost in translation. Similarly, in my relationships with my siblings, my older sibling I would say is definitely more neurotypical and therefore didn’t question that I may be feeling any different or that I was experiencing the world any differently or processing things differently because he simply didn’t know. My younger sibling however I would say is more similar to me and understands the difference in mindset more but has never felt the need to change or be anything different to fit in to society, she has never masked like I have and therefore does experience the world differently too.

Matilda loved to read, that was her escape from the world and to an extent I did too. I never considered myself an avid reader but I did love reading, more than I give myself credit for. I read all the Harry Potter books as they came out, I read every Jacqueline Wilson book, I loved the Sheltie series of books. I loved Roald Dahl, obviously. In my teens, you would have definitely caught me reading the Twilight books too. But as life and technology has progressed, my escape from the world has been TV and film. I cannot count the amount of times I have watched Gilmore Girls, Friends, One Tree Hill, Full House and countless others in their entirety. British classics too like dinnerladies, Vicar of Dibley, Miranda, Downton Abbey, the list goes on.

Matilda was also very smart and switched on, not dumb by any means but the world treated her as so. Which is something I can relate to in terms of neurodivergence and as stated above being misunderstood. I process things differently and may do things differently but it doesn’t mean I am stupid or wrong. I can see that look in someone’s eye when I do something differently or maybe a little bit backwards and it always hurts a little because if the look was words, it would be “are you stupid?”.

And finally, I loved Miss Honey and loved Lavender and all the friends Matilda found because they represented acceptance. They were nothing but loving and accepting, everything that her family and Miss Trunchbull weren’t. It gave me hope even at a young age when I had no idea what I was dealing with that someone, somewhere would accept and love me for who I am.

Is there someone watching me?

One aspect of Autism/ ADHD is a fear of being perceived. This is a bit of a two-edged sword for me. In most circumstances, I HATE being perceived. Yet, at other times when I’m alone and there isn’t anyone watching me, I imagine that certain people are. I could be driving along and just imagining that someone I knew 10 years ago could somehow see me and wonder what they’d be thinking about me. Weird I know, makes no sense.

One of the biggest challenges for me that I can remember happening throughout school is people watching me do schoolwork. If the teacher’s attention is elsewhere, I can just go for it and there’s nothing stopping me from completing whatever task is in front of me. That’s not always the case in the classroom though, is it? The teachers like to wander and check up on people as they’re getting on with whatever task. This is when I would feel so self-conscious and simply stopped. Every time. I could be mid-flow but the second I could feel their presence over my shoulder all thoughts and knowledge seemed to allude me in an instant.

It wasn’t just the schoolwork that proved to be problematic in this respect, it happened for homework too. Particularly anything that required access to the computer. Up until my late teens this meant using the family computer. The family computer, however, was my Dad’s pride and joy. Outside of work, sleep, eating and something good on the telly, he was always on the computer. So, when I had to go on it and cut into that time for him, he wouldn’t venture far or for long and eventually without fail he would be stood behind me with his hand on the chair eager to get back. It would enrage me. A teacher I couldn’t say anything to but Dad I would, but that would always be met with “you wouldn’t say that to your teacher, would you?”

Another thing probably not many people know about me is I love to sing. The reason I say nobody will know this is because I can’t let anyone listen. I will only ever sing, properly sing, in an empty house. Even then I am on edge about people coming and going so meticulously plan when I can do it. I also had piano lessons for 4 years and struggle to perform in front of anybody and usually only play now when no-one is in the house.

The long and short of it is, if someone is watching me do something I will not be able to do it. Not properly, not to the best of my ability and certainly not the same way I would do things when nobody was watching. If it’s something that requires me to use my hands and fine motor skills, I am all fingers and thumbs! It’s a disaster. I think that’s probably why I want people to be watching when I’m alone, they’ll get to see the REAL me?

New Year, Neuro-divergent Me

A New Year, a new me. As cliché as it may sound, I am hoping this year brings some big changes to my life. I really can’t go on as I have any more and want to live the kind of life I want, need and deserve. I have known all my life that there was something different about me, I was the weird kid. I was the one people played with because they had to but wouldn’t otherwise bother with.

Primary school, in particular, was hellish. This is where I was still me but learning and testing the limits, working out all the unspoken social boundaries that everyone else already seemed to have a pretty good grasp of. I was bullied a lot, was singled out a lot, embarrassed myself far more than anyone else because of simple misunderstandings because my brain wasn’t processing the world around me the same way that most other people were.

By secondary school I was beginning to get a good grasp on things, but I was still always a little behind everyone else, it was like I was constantly lagging. I could never get right up to speed. But socially I muddled through and made a solid group of friends and had fun.

 Academically, I had always excelled, there was no cause for concern in that department because I was intelligent and let’s face it a bit of a goody two shoes, so I was always working hard and on my game. The only time this wavered was later in my school career, particularly in Sixth Form where in preparation for university, everything is a little more relaxed and puts more onus on the student to lead the way and take control rather than the teacher. And then university …. Been there, done that, and dropped out …twice!

Somehow, up until this point I have muddled my way through adulthood not entirely unscathed. I have had various jobs that I have left or got behind in due to my differences in handling and dealing with things. I have defaulted on a credit card and have never had much in the way of savings. I was single most of my twenties. As mentioned above, I dropped out of university twice so have no qualifications to my name. So that’s a general overview of my story thus far but now I have realised through other people’s stories of their lived experiences with neurodivergence and many online tests and questionnaires that maybe I wasn’t weird, stupid, unlovable, lazy or useless after all, I was just and am still, neurodivergent.

Let go and let in

It’s funny isn’t it. Life. You watch in anguish as everyone else’s seems to be going so great as you look from afar. Then you look at your own life and wonder why that can’t be you. Why are they achieving all these great things, why are they hitting milestones that I can’t seem to get close to?

We know our struggles, but we don’t know theirs. Someone has just had a baby. You think to yourself how much further ahead they are than you, but you don’t see their struggle, you see their joy from overcoming it. That person/ couple who you think have it all figured out having just welcomed new life into the world could have had countless miscarriages, could have spent years trying to conceive and spent thousands of pounds in the process. You don’t see all the tears they cried thinking that they would never get to this day, this happy moment you are witnessing. That happy couple who just got married. They too will have wondered whether there is anyone out there for them. They will have had to face uncertainty. You see a happy couple on their wedding day, but to get to that point they have cried, they have been hurt and broken, they have had days when they thought it was only meant for everyone else but them.

I struggled so much with this last year when the second of my two best friends from high school got married. I was the one in high school who wanted that life, I wanted to find the love of my life, get married and one day have a family of my own. They didn’t. In fact, one of them openly scoffed at the idea. They were both very academic and driven, both wanted to be successful above all else. Boys were a distraction. At least that’s what they told me, despite one of them already being in a relationship with their now husband. They didn’t want that life; not like I did and now they both have it (marriage at least).

So, what was I doing wrong? Why them? Honestly, I think I wanted it too much. I was dwelling too much on the fact that it had happened to them and not to me. I was needy without even realising and I was in fact repelling everything that I wanted and needed. So, I learnt to let go. I went within, I worked on bringing the energy back inside my own body. I worked on attracting from within and not repelling by pushing my energy onto everything and everyone. I started to notice people around me treat me differently. I started to care less and less what people thought because I had found safety in who I was. Yoga was a great tool to help with this, as well as Aaron Doughty on YouTube. I dealt with the wounds that meant I only attracted emotionally unavailable people into my life.

I let go of my attachment to the end result and just allowed it to be.

“Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.”

Anne Lamott

My “Just do it” muscle

Have you ever struggled to get off the mark (Not like that!)? Worse still, have you ever had someone questioning why, making you feel like you SHOULD be able to and saying “Just do it” like it’s a magic spell? I certainly have, and I would get so frustrated but truthfully, it’s not the phrase or the advice that caused that frustration. I was frustrated because I took it to mean there was something wrong with me and proceeded to beat myself up for it and from that place it’s near impossible to find a solution.

Telling someone to just do it is all well and good but that voice inside someone’s head can be much louder and more direct. As logical and rational as your “just do it” advice may be that voice in their heads has been there far longer, is well established and is more often than not trusted blindly. It puts up an argument far greater than yours. It takes into account every worry and anxious thought, it tells you what could go wrong before it considers any pros, it knows your every weakness and uses it to its advantage to stop you doing anything that may breach your alleged comfort zone.

If this sounds familiar, if you receive a barrage of “just do it’s” that you just simply can’t heed, relax, take a step back and look at the bigger picture. You have the power to silence that voice in your head telling you all the reasons why you shouldn’t do something, and just like your quads or your triceps, with constant training you can build this muscle up and become more resilient over time. Honestly, one day you will be the one saying just do it to yourself and you will listen.

Angst and Anger

Anxiety … my fickle friend! As I’m still reeling from the positive highs of what I have overcome you are always there to show me the lows of how far there it still left to go. And for that, I must thank you. (Don’t get me wrong, the celebrations and “back patting” are still in full force)

On the surface, I’ve been going about my days this week and have been pleased at the progress I’ve seen and acknowledged in my last posting. Underneath, however, there has been a battle going on. Little did I know just how apt my pondering on life and my leaning tower of life were. Whilst I was pondering a small crack, an even bigger one had formed without my realising. I knew I had to respond … but the anxious thoughts began to take hold. Every time I went to respond, something kept pulling me back. Thoughts about how I’ve been falling short of the person I should’ve been for the people who have always been so much for me. Reminders of all the times I’ve gotten these things wrong. Every time I went to communicate, that voice, the inner critic in me would pick away at every word and sentiment until there was nothing left.

Days began to pass, time in which I would have wanted to have responded but couldn’t. I grew angry, a little at myself but mostly at the anxiety that is not me (pats back). I was angry at the fact I couldn’t just pick up the phone and call someone, angry that I couldn’t go knock on a door or go to a common meeting place. I was angry at how this must appear to people I care about, that it might be hurting them, especially as the years pass by.

Ultimately l knew that anger wasn’t going to solve anything and nor was me putting myself down and eventually I got out what I wanted to say (for the most part – I’ll still question whether it was enough or “right” just a little). I know this isn’t final, that “anxiety” has no power over me, only the power I give it. I know that slowly but surely I’m giving it less power but today and this week it has had too much power still.

Midnight musings

As I’m lying in bed letting thoughts of the last few days whirl around in my mind, I can’t help but notice how much those thoughts have changed. Even now after quite a lapse in any form of mindfulness practice.

Though my thoughts are on the fragility of life and those who have succumbed (and how the number rises somewhat frightfully), I am not overcome with sadness. I feel sad to think about it, however I am detached from it, it isn’t all-consuming. My thoughts are not only on those people who are no longer with us, but on those who have moved away, those with whom a connection has been lost, and the family units and various communities that are no longer whole. In fact, I likened myself to the leaning tower of Pisa, the foundation upon which I stand has faltered considerably. But, like the tower, hear I stand … well lie really but you catch my drift!

Alas, in the midst of all this thought something in my brain keeps reminding me of all the positive changes I’ve been noticing. For example, how when I’ve done something embarrassing (or a situation has made me embarrassed in some way) I used to let it play over and over in my mind. My brain would choose to remind myself of it just as I’m drifting off to sleep and my cheeks would turn crimson as I found myself reliving every awful moment! Yet, there have been quite a few events recently that would have had that same effect on me which I have simply walked away and forgotten about. A welcome change. (Like the other day when I lost my S-I-L at the cinema and after walking into the wrong screen on the wrong floor mid film had to go ask the ticket lady where she’d gone)

I’m getting out of bed easier in the mornings, I’m wanting to venture out more and seize more of life than I have previously wanted to. I’m working in a field that is totally new and different to me and I don’t hate it, I’m enjoying the challenge of doing something new and getting to know new people. I can’t help thinking that for that alone, my struggles over recent years have not been in vain because I can’t see how I could have ever got here of my own accord.

And finally … sorry if I’m a little scattered, it’s been a while! But, finally I’m thinking that despite its ups and downs, this year will have been very well spent because I can say with absolute certainty that I will leave it as a totally different person. Instead of going through the motions year after year and feeling like nothing is or could be any different. So I’ll leave it there before I witter on any more without a though of where it’s going! Sweet dreams.

Your whole life …

Don’t make one thing your whole life. Whether that be a person, your family, a job, money or a sport, whatever you’re most passionate about. If you do, you risk losing everything you hold dear.

If that person is your whole world and then they leave for whatever reason, what do you have left? If your family are no longer around, what do you have left? If you can no longer do your job or take part in a particular sport, what do you have left?

Instead, make ‘living’ your whole life. Indulge in what you love but know you can live without it. Try new things to expand your horizons so there will always be something to fall back on, but know that even if there wasn’t you would be just fine.

Dare to be different, don’t try to fit in or else you’ll always be chasing the latest trend. Do what you love, be grateful to have it in your life and understand that if it’s ever time for you to part with it, that it’s just meant to be that way and you’ll survive.

Making life difficult for myself?

As I’m going about my day and finally actually doing the things I’ve been meaning to for days I can’t help but think how much easier it would have been to deal with things when they happened in life. Rather than take months and months to just even face them in the first place. Now, 8 months on and I’m finally getting round to doing the things everyone was urging me to do back then, and then some.

So why was it so hard to do then? Why was I so stubborn that I had to figure it out and reach that conclusion and clarity for myself?

Inevitably the mess has grown and there are now more aspects of my life that are challenged by this prolonged hiatus. Oh the joys.

Around July last year I should have been graduating, my second attempt at second year had been, on the whole, a success and the third started on a high but slowly everything began to unravel. I lost sight of where I was going, who I was doing it for, and more importantly, who I was. I knew that what had started as a small snowball in my hand had by this point encapsulated me and was barrelling along down the mountain, gathering more and more snow as it went. I knew if I reached out I could grab hold of something and stop the effect, that I could claw my way back and the snow would slowly thaw. But I was set to self-destruct, I knew where it was heading and I carried on regardless.

By the time the results were posted I knew they weren’t good, seeing them just confirmed what I’d seen coming for months. By this point I was at a loss, not with the situation but with myself. I knew this was far more than bad grades. Some of them were actually very good grades lost in a sea of let’s just say not so good grades! I knew that this was more than just going back and doing it over. That wouldn’t fix anything. Just like leaving my job to go back to university 2 years earlier didn’t fix it. This was something within me that I had to face. Grief.

Grief and mourning are such personal experiences as unique to each person as snow flakes. So when you are faced with it, you don’t know what to expect and you can lull yourself into a false sense of security thinking that well I’ve been sad, I’ve been angry, I’ve come to see that this is now my reality. That’s it! You’ve gone through those initial phases and you’re all better and ready to face the world again. I’m chuckling as I write this at just how ludicrous that sounds.

Finally though, I know I’m in a better place. I’ve sat with my grief and I’ve learnt how to know when to let it in and when to push through. I have sat with it long enough to heal what has been triggered thus far, and I know to sit with it when I’m triggered in the future. Because this is a journey I will be on for the rest of my life, no matter how long it takes and how messy it gets. And that’s okay.