dedication

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This blog is dedicated to:

My canine angel, Lucy Like-a-Charm.

My baby sister Althea, her wonderful hubby Robin, and her two furry boys Biscuit & Tiny.

My loyal friends YS and Rick.

Without you, there would be no adventure, no narrative, no amazing tales to tell.

more grace notes

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Head down, bottom up… SOS!

Grace notes occurring in the midst of forceful fury.

Overwhelmed inside churning, heaving and seething vortex of existential and corporeal torment – unrelenting in its pursuit of dignity’s destruction, unrepentant in its indecent mockery – the arhythmic pounding of crass insistence overtakes consciousness.

There, the little grace notes appear. Silent fluttering wings of delicate rectitude, without force, without rude encroachment.

Listen to the soft, gentle and sometimes whimsical intonations of clemency, and the sighs of gratitude amidst shimmering spasms of tender affliction. Continue reading

extempore

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Sashimi Set @ Ichiban Boshi

I am autistic. I really do prefer order above chaos, routine above last minute spur-of-the-moment excitement. And dinner outside of home base is actually not something I enjoy very much at all. In fact, these days, I rarely accept dinner invitations, almost never attend concerts and exhibition openings unless I was performing or exhibiting. The sensory struggle is just not worth it anymore, and I am too old for this kind of neuronormative mimicry anyway. Yet, there I was, clutching a generous gift voucher in my hand, expiring in 24 hours, dashing off to dinner in a somewhat dishevelled state: shorts, T-shirt, canvas shoes, no make-up and messy hair. Most unglamorous. But Foodie Bunny must not let this go to waste! I was on a mission! Continue reading

Lost in the discussion of “lost diagnosis”

Sharp and to the point. From Chavisory.
I’ve often been referred to as an “optimal outcome” case. Many “NT-acting” autists are. This is, to me, not a compliment at all – it merely reveals the dominating rigid NT-biased frameworks that autistics have had to labour under. We need a better way forward than this.

Chavisory's Notebook

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past,” wrote William Faulkner, and I couldn’t help being reminded of that line as I read the recent article “Compulsions, anxiety replace autism in some children,” from Spectrum magazine.

An estimated 9 percent of children with autism achieve a so-called ‘optimal outcome.’ But nearly all of these children years later develop related conditions such as obsessive-compulsive disorder, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, anxiety and depression, the new study suggests.

“The majority of the group with a past history of autism are vulnerable to developing other psychiatric disorders,” says lead investigator Nahit Motavalli Mukaddes, professor of child and adolescent psychiatry at the Istanbul Institute of Child Psychiatry in Turkey.

So let’s get something straight right off the bat.

There is—so far as has ever been revealed—no such thing as a “past history of autism.”

If children who lose a diagnosis are socially compensating to…

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paradox

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Little Petruschka… Flipping and flopping between blessed clemency and blasted captivity… Pros and cons of proximity… Pandering to the overarching artifice of the collective… Losing autonomy… Gaining ease of living… Teetering between screaming to break free and relief at the measure of rest afforded by prison walls…

Dancing on bed of nails ablaze, celebratory fireworks lighting up the night sky obscuring seething agony of feet… hands flailing in air, mimicking gestures of cheer… If you do not conform, you will be lonely, says Other… but perhaps Petruschka wants to be alone? … Whose loneliness do Other and Self own?

 

panacea

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sweet balm…

Sensory overload. What is it really like? Difficult to pin down, common to most autistics, yet different in each individual and varying from one circumstance to another. No, it’s not just “all in the imagination” and no, we are not deliberately playing some dramatic role for whatever purported attention-seeking accusation.

Right. So, here. Today’s episode.

Heat. Humidity. Crowds. Smells. Noise. Lights. Over-exposure.

11.45am – 1pm. Just a wee bit over an hour.

Nausea. Vertigo. Uhoh… think I am going to throw up – search frantically for a plastic bag. OK, this is going to be awkward, standing at the bus stop. Should I give up and go sit down somewhere? Bus is arriving in 2 minutes. Determination and stubborn grit – just get home, Bunny!

I did it!

Safe, tucked into bed with my panacea for all woes – Canine Angel and warm vanilla hound.

Ah, so lucky to have my Lucy Like-a-Charm!

Clemency.

hangover

It is a ‘hangover’ sort of day, and I spent much of it crashed out in my bedroom with Lucy, inside a whirly heaviness. I received very sad news this morning: a dear friend, Jack, passed away on Christmas Eve. He was a beautiful entity – generous, gracious and the perfect gentleman. Jack was Lucy’s first friend after she came into my life. Lucy is a minx, but Jack was the perfect gentleman. He shared his bed, his toys and his home with Lucy, who would hijack his space every time she visited. Jack was very well loved by his dads Nick and Monty, and everyone who had the honour of knowing Jack. I paid tribute to Jack via two Facebook posts, and mark his presence here in this blog post. It is my way of etching his memory even deeper into my Space of Mind… I am processing, churning… re-locating grief and loss, re-shelving memories… re-aligning myself with beauty…

But why ‘hangover’? Why ‘crash’? Continue reading