jumper dweller

Q: Can I make this blazer work? A: Barely... I've not written about this before, and honestly, I've only recently come to understand it myself. A friend and I were discussing last night why I just cannot seem to get out of my overdraft: clothes. It's as simple as that, I love clothes too much. This then made me wonder: where does this thirst for newness come from in terms of clothing? Partly consumerism, no doubt. But I believe the root is in my deep need for change, for vitality and vibrancy, and for the ability to be someone who I am not yet but might one day be.  It's difficult because I do not want to stop buying clothing. But I know I must. My bank balance silently laments at its minus figure, induced by the addiction (dare I call it that?) to change. I have come to the conclusion that I want to be someone else but me.  On this blog, I've celebrated 'the chameleon' but it, as with most things, comes with a downside. I am permanently poor

Autumn is here! Good morning folks! Today I wanted to write a little something which is very relevant to my life at the moment. It might be short and sweet (because I'm drugged up to the ears on valium) but I hope you enjoy/find it interesting all the same. We begin with the illness I'll be talking about today: bipolar. I recently came up with what I believe is a pretty relevant metaphor for bipolar: it is a worm, that sits gently behind the ear in hope of weedling its way in without our knowing. Before we know it, the worm is eating away at our sense of wellness, rotting and decaying whatever it can.  For me, currently the worm is deep within my brain, eating away at my contentment and health. I did not notice its arrival until it was too late. Bipolar is a difficult beast to manage, always in a state of persuasion, hoping you will unshackle it for the promise of creativity, activity and inspiration. It's no secret that both mania and depression can bring about

A coffee I hastily downed at the conference between lectures! This week has been momentous. Okay, that might have been a bit of an overstatement, but I did turn twenty-three and attend my very first (but definitely not last) autism conference - Autscape . In this post, I want to have a little chat about my experience there, how it's changed how I view myself and my diagnosis, and what I'll be taking home from my adventures. If you're interested, read on! If not, why'd you click? (I kid! Thanks anyway!) Autscape was at first incredibly, irrevocably overwhelming . I think this rang true for all of us. Suddenly going from our routines, our close friends and family with whom we are completely comfortable, to the prospect (and the reality) of a place milling with people (mostly) who we have never met before and would never normally meet under "normal" circumstances. It is at once both very terrifying and very exciting, and often difficult to differenti