alien cameleonChameleon
by Alienhippy
I write when I’m emotional, it seems to help at times
But lately I have not pushed through to find my words of rhyme
I let myself shrink back in fear and forgot I had a voice
That who I am is not worth less but I have to stand by choice
I hide when I am trying to please the masses not my needs
And fear and dread turn into pain, my soul and spirit bleeds
Invisible, when in a crowd, a Chameleon act of protection
But still the aching void speaks loud, destructive self rejection
Being confident that I’m enough no need for validation
Just be myself not hide my shine, this traps me in frustration
Be strong enough to walk away and hold my head up high
Better alone living in my truth than to live my life a lie
So now I stand and raise my voice in rhyming words of verse
As images of dancing angst replay, rebuild, rehearse
And as I push me past the zone of comfort one more time
I take deep breaths and know my heart is good yet on the line


Crazy-cat-lady revisited and Aspiefied

On my swing with 2 of my cats

My lovely Sammy cat

His name was Sammy

I was a 4 year old, hyper-active fidget when my Granddad opened up his jacket and pulled out a tiny little ginger fluff ball, who I automatically call “Cinderella!”

Cinderella got shortened to Cindy and after the vet pointed out a couple of things…Cindy became Sammy……snip

Sammy was an independent tom-cat. He was constantly sleeping under the pipes in the boiler cupboard and contributed daily his own food by bringing home something lovely for dinner, unfortunately he was only willing to share the heads. (nice)

Mom would throw him out the front door every night, and I would open my bedroom window and call him back in. He would spend the night sleeping with me inside my bed next to my Teddy Boo-boo, here I knew he was safe and I could sleep and not loop. I had my Sammy cat for 10 years, he was my best friend and knew me better than anyone else. He never judged me, he always listened and he accepted me in whatever mood I was in. He would give me comfort as I stared and lost myself in his lovely, warm patterned fur. Then he’d bite and ground me snapping me out of being too distant. He was never bothered by my extreme teenage noise pollution, misunderstood violent outbursts and constant crying. He never told me I was obsessed by my interests…ATARI and nail polish. He just let me be me, and I so needed him because the pressure to conform had taken me into isolation.

When Sammy got killed on the main road outside my family home, I was devastated. I couldn’t eat and I stopped speaking for 2 weeks. Sammy was my first love, and my first friend. He taught me about friendship and self belief, he was loyal and forgiving and knew his own mind. He was the only hugs I could do and he was the only friend I could talk to. After my complete shut-down, Mom took me to get Kitty.

Dear Kitty

My Dear Kitty

Mom took me to a pet shop in the City Centre and I carried Kitty home inside my burgundy jacket on the number 12 bus. She was my little baby. I never did the dolly thing like other girls. I didn’t see the point of dressing and playing with something stiff, unrealistic, that smelt synthetic. I knew a doll wasn’t real, so what was the point in pretending it was. My Kitty however was totally real, living, breathing and needing my love as much as I needed hers.

I was really struggling at school, I had been put onto a reading development program, which then caused bullying because it brought attention to my dyslexia. In my one to one SEN-time I would have to read ‘Wind in the Willows’ picture books. I had no interest in fictional toads, badgers and rats especially speaking ones wearing clothes and driving vintage motor cars…I mean how bloody ridiculous.

The other kids were reading “The Diary of Anne Frank,” which sounded far more interesting. This is where Kitty got her name from, I felt I was missing out, so I made my own Dear Kitty, after all I was constantly alone in my very small bedroom.

Kitty was majorly insecure, the pet shop had taken her from her mother far too young and she would suckle on everything, she never grew out of this. She could never cope with being on her own, she would spend all day following RAF our Black Labrador around the house and garden. When he lay down by the fire she lay on top of him. As soon as I got home from school she would follow me to my room where she would stay with me till the next day.

She lived a long life for a cat, and stayed at my Mom and Dad’s home because when I left at 18 she hated my flat and couldn’t settle. She spent 6 days hiding in my wardrobe, refusing food and water. Seeing her like this broke my heart and I had to grow up and make a very hard decision.

Kitty taught me parenting skills, she taught me to see past myself to others needs. Finally when I took her back to my Mom’s, so she could be with her beloved RAF, she taught me to let go. She was a beautiful black and white soul who died peacefully under the apple tree in my Mom and Dad’s front garden at 16 human years of age.

Ok, crying as I rewrite this post. Jump forward 20 years…with lots of cats in between, lot of strays that have come and gone and we get to Holly

Holly, queen of my garden

“Holly, Holly, Hollyyyyyyy!!!”

Holly was my disabled cat, she was deaf and partially sighted. She was a mix of white/tan/black long haired fluff. She didn’t like being touched because she never knew where the touch was coming from. To groom her I had to spend time crawling around on the floor allowing her to sniff me and come to me. She never left my garden because she knew she was safe there.

Holly…pretty, pretty Holly

When I fed all my other cats I had to make sure she was catered for because she couldn’t fend for herself. If she was not in her basket or the cat kennel I had to go find her. She couldn’t hear me calling so I physically had to walk around looking for her. She wouldn’t come running at the sound of cat food, she couldn’t hear it. She was very demanding at meal times, and would scream at me for her food, she couldn’t hear how loud she was, but believe me it was ear-piercing, it hurts my head at times. She didn’t cope well with the other cats and isolated herself away from even her own daughter. When she walked around the garden she relied on her sense of smell, this meant she had to constantly flick her head left and right in an erratic way. The neighbours who saw her doing this told me to have her put to sleep. I think because they thought she was defective or not happy – but she was NOT defective, she was just a little unique and I love that about her. She had found her way and I saw how hard it was for her, compared to my other cats. She did everything required to be a cat. She just did it differently to the rest. She was happy and content and she knew she was loved and accepted. This is what made the other cats move out of her way.

She was the queen of my garden!

Holly taught me this very valuable lesson;

If I could do all these things for her!

If I could see the cat she was!

If I could believe and stand against people’s opinions for her!

Then I could do all this for my kids and myself too.

I believe that God meets us where we are at….even if we think cat.

And now my new addition

Trixie, my puzzle cat

Trixie, the feral

I wonder what she is going to teach me? She is one massive puzzle, and I love working out puzzles. 🙂

My 15 year old self (Repost)

Hello my lovely Bloggy friends,

I was reminded of a post I wrote back in October 2010. I wasn’t going to repost it but it just won’t leave my head. I wrote this post while having counselling. I was still processing my realisation of being an Aspie and how not knowing why I felt so different as a child had hurt me so badly.

I am only sharing this because usually when something is looping in my head there is a reason for it. Also it will keep looping unless I do share it. 🙂

Love and hugs.

Lisa. xx 🙂

Alienhippy age 15

This photo was taken at a family party when I was 15. I wanted to go home, no-one was speaking to me and I felt really alone. The music was NOT to my liking and was actually hurting my head. My brother took the photo, I was not aware he had taken it. He had a thing for photography.

I have decided to do something different today.

I was thinking about my Teen years and how hard they were. Trying to fit in with everyone else but constantly feeling like no-one liked me.

I learnt how to giggle when the other girls did, even if I didn’t know what I was giggling about. I learnt how to not be noticed. I also learnt that if I hung around with the bullies, I sort of had protection. I was their look out and a source of cigarette money.

At least I felt I belonged though… a degree!

School was a nightmare, I had stomach problems every Monday morning at the thought of another week there. I couldn’t read and that was a wonderful opportunity for everyone to taunt .

The subjects I was good at, I wasn’t allowed to take as my options. I had constant board rubbers and bits of chalk thrown at my head for daydreaming.

The only time I was happy at school was in my Art lessons, where I had a wonderful Teacher, who allowed me to be me. Shame I only got 2 hours of Art a week.

At the age of 11, I started to isolate myself in my bedroom. I was happy most of the time at home but my bedroom became my comfort zone. I spent far too long on my own, thinking back now. I had far too much time to think and obsess and hurt myself in many ways.

I couldn’t express how I felt and I couldn’t lose myself in a book, like my friend did. I spent a lot of time sewing and listening to music.

So…. I revisited 1985 in prayer today and tapped into my 15 year old self, and we wrote a poem.

My 15 year old self

by Alienhippy

I wish I knew just what goes on

In a neurotypical mind

‘Cause my mind goes at sonic speed

But answers I seldom find

To all my many questions

They seem to bother me

And…all the different social rules

I never seem to see

The faces they all seem to change

A smile can be confusing

When I smile back I get a glare

It’s only ‘ME’ they’re abusing

Look at the floor that way I’m safe

From all the angry eyes

I miss so much by trying to hide

But at least it stops my cries

The pain is brief, I’m given relief

Isolation takes it’s hold

Sat in my room all alone

Feeling safe but growing cold

Aspies don’t have emotions…???

Hello my lovely Bloggy friends,

Many of you will know how much I enjoy watching YouTube.

I find video so helpful,

I have learnt many things through watching tutorials and I am very grateful to many YouTubers for the help they give to others.

I also love finding other Aspies

Some of them tell their stories so well. Being dyslexic as well as having Aspie traits makes reading really hard going sometimes, so video is a way for me to learn and also feel part of, and not cut off.

The AnMish is a wonderful young woman who I find has experienced so much that I can relate to.

I watched this video of hers today and she said so much of what I have bottled up inside me.

I’m so glad that she knows this about herself at such a young age.

I just hope that my *CAL can learn to express as well by this age, what I still find hard.

Love and hugs. xx 🙂

I was feeling brave…Eeeek (Cybergirl’s words)

Hello my lovely bloggy friends,

I’m feeling kinda brave and decided to share an audio with you.

I don’t do this very often, and I cringe at my voice when I listen to it.

However I haven’t got anything else to share with you today. 😉

I wrote this poem over a year ago and it is one of my favourites.

I added the audio later and not many have heard it, sneaky sneaky Lisa…hehe

Also I think it’s good to read a year later and see how I have grown.

God is SO good!

Love and hugs.

Lisa. xx 🙂

Cybergirl’s Words!

by Alienhippy

I wish I had the words to express, the emotions that I feel.

The hurt inside my thoughts so wide, all consuming and so real.

I wish I knew what was really true, as I ponder every second.

With pictures, process, words and touch, these confused connections send.

What ifs and dids,  maybes and buts, video clips that drive me nuts.

And questions I just can’t keep in, obsessive demands of insecure nagging.

If you could visit inside my brain, you’d see the energy of me you drain.

Then you’d talk with me not gripe and smirk, you’d see how hard this makes me work.

So, please just open up your mouth, just let them words come dancing out.

I need to know what I need to do, or I get it all wrong and I can’t see through.

The muddled replays of confused devotion, wrapped up in a brain explosion.

Of imaginary or past signals, where I’ve conversed with many walls.

I beg you please just speak to me, help me see, or set me free.




How was Father’s Day for you?

Hello my lovely bloggy friends,

It was Father’s day here in the UK yesterday, there were so many blog posts floating around bloggyland about wonderful Fathers who are so loving and giving.

I read a few of them, and it made me very happy knowing those beautiful children are so blessed with such adoring Dads. Nothing is better for children than for them to have two parents who love and protect them and work hard to meet all their needs.


I also felt a lot of hurt for all those that don’t have Dads or have Dads they never see.

Those who have lost their Dads and miss them terribly.

For those Dads who have lost their children, so Father’s Day is a stab in the heart.

I felt hurt for the children who are verbally, physically, mentally or spiritually abused by someone they trust.

I also felt hurt for all the Moms out there who struggle daily on their own raising children.

I once lived the Single Mom life, it is hard, isolating and lonely.

I have seen the hurt on my little boys face when other kids run to their Daddy after school.

I have had to be both Mom and Dad, and felt totally trapped in the home environment.

I have had no one to cry to, no one to comfort me and no one to take over when I felt totally drained.

This is where God steps in if you ask Him to

In the depth of despair, when feeling totally spent.

Sat in the pit feeling all alone we are NEVER alone.

There is a scripture in Isaiah 54 that helped me so much as a young single parent, it reads.

Isaiah 54:5-6


5 For your Maker is your husband—
   the LORD Almighty is his name—
the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer;
   he is called the God of all the earth.
6 The LORD will call you back
   as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit—
a wife who married young,
   only to be rejected,” says your God.


There are so many wonderful Dads around

If you have one please appreciate him, he is a blessing in your life and someone who will always protect you.

God is the Father of all

When we turn to Him, He never turns us away.

I can find relating to a Father figure VERY hard, my Dad is Autistic.

He has ALWAYS provided for me. I never went without food or shelter.

But emotionally, mentally and Spiritually my Dad could never understand me.

I have found that we tend to relate to God in the way we understand our relationships.

Calling God Father was a brick wall for me for a long time.

I felt like God didn’t listen to me, because this is how I felt that a Father behaved.

I had to see God as a Mother figure, my Mom was always there for me.

I felt very loved and accepted by my Mom.

I had to learn to understand that God is NOT a human Father but a Heavenly one.

That God’s love is never failing, He is the one true constant.

Then I had to convince myself that I was precious enough to deserve this love.

That God the Father knows me inside and out and loves me just as I am.

He loves us all for who He created us to be, we are His children.

Love and hugs to you all. xx 🙂

It’s about “TIME!!”

I have always had a fascination for the idea of Time Travel,

My favourite film is…..

The Time Machine (2002) version. I love the old 1960 version too…It’s just that I TOTALLY love the music from the 2002 film, it takes me to a whole new place.

I have lost count of the number of times I have watched this film, it’s one of the places where I escape, for a short time, when I need to.

A very close friend of mine mentioned that her daughter was freaking out because their internet had gone down, this meant she couldn’t Skype her friends that she sees ALL day at school.

My friends children have just a bit of Aspie in them… 🙂  I love them all so very much and their journey helps me remember my childhood and figure out my own Aspie ways.

I haven’t got my Mom to ask anymore,

My Autistic Dad can’t really remember anything about me being a child apart from me being really hard work. So I’ve stopped asking him now because it was discouraging me. I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me…and to be honest, it was my Mom that did everything anyway. My Dad was always at work, under a car or inventing/fixing things in one of the sheds.

What my friend said triggered off some tangent thoughts.

Monday morning going to school age 11.

Most weekends I hadn’t had any contact with my school friends.

I remember feeling really insecure EVERY Monday morning.

I spoke in THIS post of how flow activities take us away from all our anxieties, as Aspies we lose ourselves in our special interests, our special interests create flow. An hour can seem like 10 hrs while we are there, but it can also feel like 10 minutes when we are being torn away from completion. I can feel quite disorientated when coming from being lost in paint, making fractals or even a favourite film. It takes me a while to understand how much time has actually gone by.

I suddenly realised today why I get so insecure with friendships.

It’s the time lapse….when I was a kid, the weekends were full of the “NOT KNOWING”

Sometimes the friends I had were still my friends on Monday morning.

Other times they had been at sleepovers and parties that I wasn’t invited to.

I felt left out and didn’t understand that they were just chatting. I felt like they wanted me to hurt.

I thought it was all about fitting in and that I needed to be like them and they would like me.

Really it was just about learning who I was and understanding it’s ok to be me. Conforming to the popular hurt me inside, and it has taken 42 year for me to learn this. We can be who we are created to be, we just need to learn to accept who we are created to be.

As a pre-teen, I spent my weekends in my bedroom with my cat making clothes, drawing, listening to music, cleaning my fish tank, playing Atari and watching TV. My special interests took me to places where I didn’t have to feel anxious, alone, misunderstood…In fact, I didn’t have to feel.

But on Sunday evening I felt like I hadn’t seen my friends for weeks, and I never knew how they would treat me on Monday morning.

I still struggle with this “TIME” thing

I’m learning to step outside of my own perception and think in a realistic way.

I have to question myself with this.

“Ok Lisa, it feels like you haven’t spoken to anyone in weeks, but how long has it actually been?”

You know what…???

Without keeping my journal, I wouldn’t have a clue!

Like I said, I have always had a fascination for the idea of Time Travel.

Now I know why, it’s because time eludes me!

This music just has to be felt… NOT heard!