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yrfemmehusband · 9 months

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it’s so difficult being someone who needs to talk to themself in public. there is no way for me to avoid looking “crazy” when im constantly shouting or whispering to myself or jerking my neck. i wish people understood this doesn’t mean im dangerous. people with many different mental illnesses or disorders face this issue as well and all situations deserve more compassion. treat people who talk to themselves loudly or quietly, continuously, repeatedly, or with pauses, the same as anyone else.

Edit: not targeted at anyone but I feel the need to say that This post is about tics and tourettes and psychosis please do not derail, your experience with needing to mutter bc of ADHD, autism, etc, is valid but different than being uncontrollably loud, and this is about an experience that's often left out of conversation.

#neurdivergency #tourette’s #ts #tourette’s syndrome #mental illness #neurodiversity #neuropunk #ticpunk #tourette’s awareness #tic disorder #psychotic safe space #psychotic disorders #psychosis awareness #neurodivergent

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just-an-enby-lemon · 2 years

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Each episode of my very slow watching (because I'm finally where teen me quitted years ago) of Gotham is making me more confident on my hc that Oswald it's bipolar and likely BP.

Of course being Gotham it could not even be an hc and just bad coding/ableism. I never know if the show it's being ableist and coding general crazyness and hitting places, trying to code something specific and doing it badly or just accidentaly coding characthers. But I will give the HC treatment see anything that could be actual confirmation (mostly Elijah, my precious, words about his father illness and Oswald inheriting it) as confirmation but not call it cannon.

Also kuddos to Elijah, he was a sweet old man, who had the opportunity to be ableist and different of most good guys in the show he was supportive instead, and while I understand his death and love the ridiculous Dark Cinderela plot it gave me (I live for the extra) I will forever mourn the true last good man in Gotham till Dick Grayson arrival.

#gotham tv show #gotham #elijah van dahl #penguin #oswald cobblepot #neurdivergency #hc

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genderqueerdykes · 1 year

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call me a dumbass furry werewolf otherkin faggot but I genuinely don't think queer people having genders tied to their nonhumanity is a bad thing at all. it has no impact on whether or not we're actually. oppressed. or not, so why not let us talk about how our elf or dragon or wolf or cat or whatever nonhuman identities affect our genders, who cares lol

#nonbinary #otherkin #kingender #nonhuman #therian #trans #transgender #neurogender #neurodivergence #neurdivergent #were #alterhuman #transsexual #our writing

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science-fiction-is-real · 6 months

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The constant presence of advertising makes the world less accessible to neurodivergent people, especially those with ADHD.

I cannot read a website with GiFs going off in the background, much less videos or pop-ups.

I tried to pump gas today and a video was playing right next to where I was supposed to answer prompts about my credit card. It threw me off track.

Billboards on the road to deliberately distract us while we are driving.

Those of you involved in the fight for disability rights, please talk about this, please reblog this.

#adhd #capitalism #disability rights #neurdivergent

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adhd-attention-deficit-dumbass · 1 year

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”Failing doesn’t mean you have to quit”- Tips from a university student with ADHD📚

So I’ve been in uni for like….*squints at calendar* almost 5 years, (yikes) and in that time I’ve learned the value of failing.

More specificly I failed a lot of tests, handed in a bunch of assignments late and what I learned from these experiences is that failing an exam…or several of them, is not the end of the world and perhaps more importantly not the end of your plans for the future. I was convinced at several points during these years that because I failed an exam or even a whole course, it would be the end of my academic future and possibly career. I never thought I’d ever graduate but here I am five years later with a bachelor’s degree and now on my way to a master’s.

Failing doesn’t mean you have to quit what you’re doing or give up on your dreams.

It just means you have to get up and try again and if it’s one thing people with ADHD are good at it’s trying. We’re always trying to do better, improve our lives, and as long as you keep trying you’ve never truly failed.

#adhd blog #adhdblr #adhd #mental health #adult adhd #neurdivergent #adhd study #adhd motivation #it’s okay to fail #failing is ok #adhd advice

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nicxxx5 · 2 years

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family members NEED NEED NEED NEED NEED to do research when someone gets an autism/neurodivergent diagnosis because i guarantee you what you think you know is either incorrect or barely scratches the surfaces of what the diagnosis is. and as a personal note i am so so so so SO tired of experiencing ableism in my own family

#actually autistic #autistic #autism #autism spectrum disorder #asd #adhd #attention deficit hyperactivity disorder #neurdivergent #neurodivergencies #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #stop being ableist #ableist nonsense #ableism #tw ableism

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jeppyposting · 4 months

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am i the only autistic person who has had an affinity for walking in circles their whole life ? i can walk in circles for HOURS listening to music and thinking about my special interests or just life, i’ve also been known to forget myself and start doing it in public if i’m really happy or if there’s a lot happening in my brain. it’s sort of a way to stim but it also helps me keep my train of thought, i think it’s kinda the same idea as fidgeting with fidget toys but like .. my whole body.. also if i get REALLY excited i’ll do big jumps while running in circles 😭 i know it’s common but does anyone else do it this much ?

#autism #actually autistic #neurdivergent #stimming #autistic joy #when i was in ballet i used to start doing it when i wasn’t dancing and my teachers did not enjoy it #autistic things #autistic experiences

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catgenderalien · 5 months

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romance but its between two autistic people.

"A has been gone for 2 hours. i bet they found a rock again and now they're going to run in here and tell me about it in 3... 2... 1..." *bursts into room* "BABE I FOUND A COOL ROCK LET ME TELL YOU ALL ABOUT IT"

"u want to hug me, huh? get out of the sweater first, please. it is made of The Bad Texture. yes you can put it back on after we're done."

"when do i say i love you? do i say it now? do i say it tomorrow?" "i love you" "OH MY GOD DID I SAY IT AT THE RIGHT TIME??? I SHOULD HAVE ASKED A NEUROTYPICAL ABOUT THIS DAMMIT"

A goes to the store and sees something that reminds them of B's spinterest, so they buy it for them. B does the same thing for A.

the two of them can go literal weeks without seeing or even speaking to one another, but once they see each other again, they're basically inseparable.

whenever one has a meltdown or a shutdown, they go to the other because they know their partner can ground them better than anyone else can.

"b-babe... i may or may not have acquired another spi--" "tell me All About It. i have all day."

they don't need to touch each other to show their love. talking and being around each other in silence is more than enough.

neither of them have to mask around one another, because they know that neither of them will be judged for what is normal autistic behavior.

speaking of stimming, imagine if A picked up a vocal stim from B and its something stupid like "oh boy! its a ✨corner cat✨" or some shit.

#neurdivergent #actually autistic #autism #romance #couples #romantic #lovers #neurodiversity #neurodivergence #audhd #autistic #neurodivergent romance #neurodiverse stuff #neurospicy

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crowflesh · 7 months

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To anyone else that saw the movie "Nope"

Please please PLEASE tell me I wasn't the only one who noticed OJ's neurodivergence. It was something I clocked almost immediately when I first saw the movie. The way he speaks in a monotone voice and isn't really emotive, how he struggles to interact with others and is socially awkward, how he reacts "inappropriately" in certain situations, how Angel literally tells him to "read the room" when they're in the fast food place, after their encounter with Jean Jacket. Even down to how he doesn't respond or react verbally and just grunts or hums and, honestly, the list could go on. These are all things that I do as an autistic person and it was so nice to finally see these traits not painted in a negative or stigmatized light. I just loved being able to see someone who acts and behaves like me be the hero of the story and it isn't made to be a whole big thing, as is what typically happens in media that involves autism. I loved the movie, I loved OJ, and it was so refreshing to see and I neeeeeed someone else that recognized OJ's possible autism coding PLEEASE

#autism recognizes autism #i've been hyperfixating on this movie like crazy for the past couple months #the amount of video essays ive watched is absurd #i just absolutely adore everything about this movie #and i need someone else to nerd out with about it #i have so many thoughts #some would say too many #crow caws into the void #nope #nope 2022 #nope movie #nope film #jordan peele #nope jordan peele #oj haywood #neurdivergent #autism #autistc

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autisticlifelessons · 7 months

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Tips for boosting driving confidence in Autistic people

For some autistic people, myself included, driving anxiety can be really detrimental to your ability to get around and be independent. However, this year (10 years after starting to learn and 9 years after passing my test lol), I have been working hard to improve my confidence and whilst I still have a ways to go, my anxiety isn't nearly as bad as it was and I've driven places I would never have dreamed of this time last year.

The following tips are aimed at autistic people, but I think they'll apply to anyone who considers themselves a nervous driver.

Practice makes perfect! - if something makes you super anxious, the natural thing to do is avoid it if at all humanly possible, right? Well, it might make you feel relief in the moment, but over time this just reinforces your anxious thoughts and can make it harder and harder to break the cycle. As much as it sucks, the key thing is to just. keep. driving. Start with just short journeys on familiar roads and build it up from there. The more situations you encounter the more your skills will improve. For various reasons - including issues with visual processing and sensory overload - it's natural that some autistic people take longer to feel comfortable and confident at doing something, so just keep working at it and you'll slowly but surely notice a difference.

Leave yourself plenty of time - being late is a massive trigger for me, so if I find myself in a situation where I have to drive somewhere in a tight time frame it really freaks me out. Give yourself plenty of time to get where you need to go, so you know you have wriggle room if there's unexpected road closures or if you make a wrong turn. This is especially important if you're going somewhere unfamiliar as you will probably already be anxious about this. Plus, if you arrive early you will have some time to regulate/decompress yourself in preparation for whatever you have planned.

Set out your boundaries - Ok driving alone but having people in car with you sends you into a flat spin? That's fine - say no to passengers for a while and then if you feel ready have a trial run with someone you know will be kind and supportive. Equally, if you find having someone in the car with you is reassuring, that can be a big help - just be sure they understand you are feeling anxious so they don't pressure you to go routes you aren't ready for. Also, some people are overconfident in their driving abilities and may try to get you to do things that are unsafe - don't listen to them! Trust your own judgement.

Set a goal - having something specific to work for can help motivate you and give you a measure of your confidence improving. Maybe you want to drive to an out of town shopping centre, or take a road trip with a friend? Just make sure your goal is realistic and you give yourself a big pat on the back once you achieve it.

Practice self compassion - driving is stressful for some people and that's totally ok. I've accepted that while I can safely get from A to B, I'm probably never someone who is going to want to drive for fun. Remember, you are in charge of your life, no one else. Whilst I'm ok driving short distances, if I have to go to another city I would always opt for public transport if at all available. I know it'll make the whole thing much less stressful for me (and is better for the environment, too). Also, if you've been trying for a while but driving just isn't for you, that's totally ok, too! It sucks that the way our society is built means not having access to your own car is inconvenient at best, but remember we all have different strengths and weaknesses, and deciding not to drive doesn't make you a failure. You can bet the minute I can get hold of a (reliable and affordable) self-driving car, my life will be made so much easier!

And there you have it! I do hope my tips brought you some comfort or reassurance if this is something you've been struggling with. Remember, these tips are what have helped me personally - I am not a driving (lol) or medical professional, and I certainly don't claim to speak for all autistic people.

Your support is hugely appreciated xx

#autistic #actually autistic #neurdivergent #neurodiversity #autistic adult #autism #asd #autistic tips #life tips #anxitey #driving #driving anxiety #autistic driving

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theinfinitytomybeyond · 5 months

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Me, a 22 year old woman: *orders a Rick Sanchez figure and is too nervous to open it rn because like... that's THE old man...*

#neurdivergency got me actin up in the club #nervous like a middle schooler with a crush #rick and morty

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shadowpuppetteer · 4 months

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Love all these lil guys, but I have a soft spot for this soft shelled dork of a mess.

Not sure if it is actually canon, but I like the idea of Donnie being autistic and Mikey being ADHD.

#Shadowpuppetteer #fanart #fan art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #donatello #mikey #michelangelo #dorks #neurdivergent #autism #adhd

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equalseleventhirds · 11 months

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what up besties sorry i haven't been online much but would u like to read the piece i wrote for my final for creative writing? it's metaporically about being trans n neurodivergent n disabled n ppl loving an idea of you more than you, but also it is about a zombie who comes back, not wrong, but not quite what anyone wanted..

(cw for death, electrocution, being buried (not quite alive), and complicated feelings about gender & name but that journey not being completed yet.)

- - -

Grave News

Amelia Marquez, 34, passed away in a tragic accident…

Later, when anyone learns she woke up already buried, she can see the horror movie assumptions playing out behind their eyes. The thought of waking up, trapped in a tiny, dark, airless space, scrabbling at the walls, gasping for breath, the weight of the earth above pressing down, down, down…

She smiles and accepts their pity, their horrified dismay, and does not tell them about lying awake, perfectly motionless, trying to figure out how to move. About how easy it is not to struggle for breath when pulling air into your lungs takes conscious effort. About pushing at different groups of muscles, her body twitching and twisting in the dark, until she works out forward, works out force, works out the flex of her hand as it pushes through velvet, then oak, then dirt, then dirt, then dirt.

Amelia claws her way out of her own grave, not frantic, not berserk, but deliberate. Gradual. Almost mechanical, as she practices moving by repeating the same thing again and again, her patient hands working their way through wood, through earth, to the surface.

(It isn't until later, standing in her parents' doorway and listening to the screams, that she realizes what ceaseless digging does to the human hand. She realizes that she somehow did not feel the pain as she dug. She realizes she needs to buy gloves.)

…the home she shared with her fiancé…

Cole had been so certain about his repairs. Fifty bucks at Home Depot and a couple of days of work, and Amelia’s concerns brushed aside.

“I’ve got this, Ames. Way better than hiring a contractor.” And she had agreed, had let him do it himself, had made dinner for a week while he spent his evenings messing with wires and fuses, assuring her that he was nearly done, that the video on YouTube made it so easy.

Cole hadn’t been home when the lights went out, when Amelia went to the fuse box and tried to flip everything back on. When the jumble of wires in their walls shorted and flared and spread electricity through her body.

When it killed her.

Once her parents call, Cole drops everything to rush over. He falls to his knees in front of her, staring up into her face through a haze of tears and hope and shock.

“You’re back. Ames, Amy, you’re back, how…”

She stares down at her lap, making sure her hands are covered by the blanket her mother had nestled around her.

…a beautiful light in our lives, extinguished too soon. Her friends and family…

Her memorial photo, the black clothes, the incense on the table, are all gone the morning after she comes back, packed away in boxes or thrown out in opaque garbage bags. Hands hesitate before touching her. They keep her at home, talking about rest, about recuperating.

“Since you’ve been…” She sees the glances, the mouthed no, don’t say it. “…in your condition. It’s important to rest up.”

It’s as though they think one wrong move, one wrong word, will kill her again.

She wonders a little bit if they’re right.

Her mother is the gentlest she’s ever been brushing Amelia’s hair, her hands careful, her voice filling the air. “And I unpacked some of your nice clothes,” she says, working through a tangle. “You don’t have to wear sweatpants anymore, I found your skirts…”

Amelia looks down at her loose, comfortable clothes, the t-shirt worn and soft against her skin. She thinks about struggling with buttons on a nice blouse, thinks about whether ruffles will still itch the way they did when she was alive. Thinks about the way the mottled colors on her legs have lasted too long to be called bruises. Maybe she should call it decay.

Her mother clicks her tongue sadly as a few strands of hair pull loose from her head. “These knots…”

“What if I cut it?” Amelia asks. She’d been thinking about short hair back when she was alive. And it would be easier. “I can’t make you brush it for me every day.”

Concern melds with distress on her mother’s face. “You can’t cut it,” she hisses. “What if it never grows back?”

...bright, funny, resilient, the first to volunteer...

Once, she accidentally sleeps for three days. That’s the kind of thing the living joke about—so tired I could sleep for a week, as impossible as that would actually be. Turns out it’s easy for the dead—easy to lie still, easy to stop pushing, easy to drift away into forgiving darkness.

She wakes to her mother weeping, her father pacing in the hall, Cole pale and haunted and clenching his phone in two hands. The funeral home’s phone number must be burned into the screen by now, but he hasn’t pressed the call button. Not yet.

Amelia makes herself sit up in bed, reaches out to him, and sees him flinch.

Right. Gloves.

Even as she twists her face into a smile, she knows she's done it wrong. Her eyebrows are at odd angles, her lips curled strangely. She tries for light-hearted: "Whoops, close one! Don't want to wake up in a grave again."

No one laughs.

...kept forever in our memories and our hearts...

Late at night, she hears her parents whispering. “Is she all right?” her mother asks. “My little girl, my Amelia—she’s not acting like herself. She’s so tired, so...”

“She just came back,” her father says. His voice is firm, comforting. Determined not to let any uncertainty slip through. The same voice he’s always used when her mother worries—the same voice he used when Amelia told him her own worries, her doubts about the future, about Cole. She always ended conversations with her father sure that he was right.

“She’ll be back to herself soon enough,” he says. “We just have to keep her active. Remind her about being alive.”

“But what if she’s not herself? I know we said not to bring up…” Her mother’s voice drops, furtive. “…the Z word…”

“We’re keeping an eye on her. We’ll notice if she does anything that needs… intervention.”

She closes her eyes. Wonders if she can turn off her hearing. Wonders if it would have been easier, staying in her grave.

The next day, she brings up moving back in with Cole. He says he'd be happy to have her, and she pretends not to notice the look he exchanges with her parents.

…brought out the best in people, always ready to help, to listen…

Cole is attentive. He brings her pastries from the bakery near their apartment and tells her about his day—work, his hobbies, a dog he saw at the park. Shows her pictures and videos on his phone. Mentions people by name, and she's not sure if they're new, since her death, or if she managed to forget people she knew about before.

She knows which muscles to move for an understanding nod, an encouraging smile. She knows how to make herself chew and swallow food, how to bring it back up later so it doesn’t just sit and rot in her stomach. She still remembers the right way to ask questions so Cole shares more.

There’s no real reason not to do it, but the more she thinks about it—the more she imagines forcing her body into the right place, the ordeal she’ll have to go through later—the less she wants to do it. She sits silently, pastries untouched, letting the muscles in her face go slack.

“Ames? You okay?”

It takes a second; she has to fill her lungs to respond. She tips one side of her mouth up in what could have been a reassuring smile, once. “Fine. Just tired.”

He sits next to her, worry pinching between his eyebrows. "Of course. I'm sorry. Let's just sit here and watch TV? There are new episodes of all our favorites."

The shows all feel distant, the plots blurred, the characters unfamiliar. She watches with him for hours anyway.

...a kind and giving spirit, she wanted to create...

Shattering the mug isn't intentional. Even if she's started to resent the comforting cups of tea Cole brings her. Even if she's sick of pulling latex gloves over her cloth ones so she can wash the dishes. Even if the cutesy blobs of yellow and pink painted on it have always been too much, too bright, too false-forced-cheer, from the moment she was gifted it eight years ago.

She still doesn't mean to let go of it, the muscles in her hand (and there are so many muscles in the human hand, so many to keep track of, and most of hers are damaged already) loosening and spasming as she's walking to the sink.

The jagged pieces of it surround her, and Cole's hysterical babble of questions and assurances—"Are you okay, I've got it, just hold still"—fades into background noise as Amelia leans down to try and gather the shards.

A hand wraps around her wrist and she turns to meet Cole's wide, frightened eyes. "Amy, your foot."

A full inch of jagged ceramic is buried in her heel.

She does not bleed, even after Cole pries it out.

...although she will never fulfill those plans, her dream will live on...

"Ames, I'm worried." Cole reaches out, stops with his hand just over her thigh. Puts it down on the chair next to her, not touching. "This is... I know you've been through a lot. But you're acting like—"

She turns her head until she can look at his face. Her neck jerks in the wrong direction a couple of times, but she's getting better at it, faster. "Like?"

Cole's eyes are red, and can't quite meet hers. "Like..." His shoulders drop. "Not like yourself."

He waits a beat—two—and gets up, breathing out harshly. "Ever since you came back, Amy. You barely look at me. You barely talk to me. You don't even like doing the things you used to like. I understand about your... condition, but..."

...pray she rests well, and waits in peace for her loved ones...

She sits in their apartment—Cole's apartment—long after he's gone, watching the afternoon sunlight shift across the space they used to share. Her books are still on the shelf. She remembers packing up her childhood bookshelf to bring to their new home. The painting she bought at a flea market is still hanging on the wall. She remembers joking with Cole about picking up a masterpiece for two dollars.

Looking at them now, she doesn't even particularly want to bring them with her.

...invited to celebrate her life at...

Merely dragging her body across the ground would be easier. But, even though she's wrong, even though she's not the person they think about when they look at her, she's still not a mindless, lurching zombie. Mostly.

She walks. One step forward.

Was she ever the person they thought about when they looked at her?

One step.

Maybe now she'll find out.

One step.

...in lieu of flowers, the family asks...

She settles into her seat on the train, making sure her hands are covered. A new start doesn't mean much if she sends an entire train into a panic.

Someone sits next to her, bouncing in their seat. "Hey there! Looks like we've got eight hours ahead of us. What's your name?"

She hesitates. Amelia. Amy. Ames.

"Mel," she says. It's strange in her mouth. Just slightly wrong, the same way she's just slightly wrong. Maybe that’s the right fit.

#algie writes things #what if u came back wrong but not evil just dealing with what it means to be dead but like in a disability way #and also u were transgender but hadn't figured it out yet #......something something society viewing ppl (trans disabled neurdivergent and more) as being 'stolen' or 'killed'#by theses aspects of our lives; as tho a 'normal' (per them) person WAS there but is no longer #but perhaps that 'normal' person never fucking was there #but circumstances make it more difficult to keep up the veneer of faking 'normality'#..........something. etc. u kno.#anyway! metaphors #but also i do love a zombie story so (shrug emoji)

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