After the dim spiral I had been on in the previous months, which I now recognise as a mixture of depression, and anxiety, and the last sputterings of autistic burnout, this show was exactly what I needed to see.
As women, we are taught that we must shoulder the emotional burden of being okay. As autistic women, the burden of okayness becomes even heavier. We are always okay. Except when we aren’t.
The definition of success seems to depend very much on the frame that you’re looking at it through. And the frame of my ‘success’ is the neurotypical gaze.
I have a major personal conundrum: I enjoy spending time with people I like, but I have a severely limited supply of social energy to do so.
It seems appropriate, on this World Mental Health Day, to admit that I’m struggling.