Organising my chaos...
My fish died and last night, I cried. This is not an excerpt from one of Dr Seuss' great tales but rather, a part of my life which has spilt out onto this blog for the first time since the end of my GCSEs. It was not so much the concept of death or the end of Stripey's life which caused my emotions to pour out of my eyes (he had been swimming sideways in a darkened tank in the months prior to it and he didn't deserve to live in pain). For me it was the end of continuity, the end of a constant in my life and a reminder of how I've clung so desperately onto what I am not anymore. I'm going to discuss my autism in a way I haven't done before. Not because I feel pressured or because I want to be a case study, statistic or be evoking emotion from both of my readers. I'm doing it because I don't want to live closeted by how I feel and I want there to be a greater understanding of how I work and operate and why I can be so contrasting behaviourally to many