I simply say, “Fishes”

I feel a coldness touch my skin as I press my nose against the glass, palms spread and fingers reaching. I stare deeply into the rippling water. Bubbles emerging through the gravel, they dance their merry lift, fascinating and capturing my all. I see light, so much light, reflected from each tiny shimmering sphere as they are birthed through the air stone. They saunter their way with or without connection, I feel lifted with their rising. Speed slowed right down with their weave through the waves.

My concentration is broken as a large Angelfish swims past my face. Again it’s the reflections of light coming from each individual scale. A whole rainbow of colour calling to me. Shimmering essence of living light reflected through a flowing stream. I follow my new friend, my face remains pressed against the coolness, feeling the vibration of the constant flow of water. This cycling hum and trickle I find so soothing, blocking out all other noise and gaining my full attention.

The Angel won’t keep still she is trying so hard to reach a tiny brown worm that is hidden beneath a piece of bogged wood. I watch her swimming back and forth, back and forth trying every angle to reach her food. In my heart I am willing her on, explaining to her in my mind what she needs to do. The light reflects and watching her shine makes me happy. She finally squeezes her slender frame horizontally under the wood reaching her well earned prize. My heart smiles.

I am drawn again back to the rising lights in their thousands. All is calm and I feel alive and comforted in all I absorb. Then a voice and a gentle touch. I feel my Mom lovingly stroke my hair and she asks me, “What have you been staring at for so long?” I am six years old and don’t have the words so I simply say, “Fishes.”

I love this video and this song is so perfect to go with this post

This post was written from a memory

The fish tank belonged to my Uncle and was built into the wall dividing his living room from his dining room. I have always loved fishes.

Love and hugs. Lisa. xx 🙂


Do you remember?


Do you remember?

Before the big bloggers, the sponsors, the adverts and the competitive edge of Pinterest perfectionism there was a community of friendly bloggers. It was a place where we found connection with others who were walking a similar path to our own. It was a place we could find friendship with people who had similar interests, and it was a place where there weren’t any trolls. Sitting down to write a post was as easy as writing an email to a friend.

I miss those days. I miss those bloggers.

Yesterday I was reminded of just how much I loved the blogosphere when a friend/author and fellow blogger posted me this link of a list from 2012.

21 Exceptionally Valuable Asperger’s Sites

I’m on that list, I’m number 7. 🙂
When seeing the list I actually cried and struggled to process. A lot of my Autism blogger friends no longer write and who I was, how I wrote back in 2012 holds a special place in my heart that I miss deeply. I also felt that I have let slip away a special interest and the joy of writing because of worrying too much about what other people think of me.

I got a message from a lady I met last week, her message was just what I needed to read. The message said, ” Thank you Lisa, I’ve learnt so much about myself from you xXx” (This was from a lady who suspects she has Aspergers.)

It made me think a lot, it made me ponder to why I had stopped writing and it made me feel deeply for other females undiagnosed in their 40’s who are still trying to find a way to fit. Then I went to find one of my most helpful posts that I read a lot when I struggle to remember why I feel so alien and why I constantly get so hurt.

I’m not ashamed of my Aspie traits.
Knowing I have Aspergers answers all the questions that have bogged my life. It’s just that it’s a lot easier to pretend to be NT and hide my feelings so no one else can hurt me. I can’t help but feel that hiding isn’t the answer and that I can push past the fear if I press into my faith.


This is who I am…

(Post from 2012)

SPD,EFD,OCD & all that jazz!

I paced around my house this morning, talking to myself. Motivating myself to actually sit at my pc and write. I know when I need to write because I can find a thousand other creative things to do with my hands but my mind keeps speaking and looping on the words.

Writing for me is part of my process, a part of my healing from past hurts. It is also a way for me to move forward. Writing is my deliverer from

EFD (Executive Function Disorder)

SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder)

OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder)

All these “disorders” but still I keep going!

I have found my own way, it takes me longer and I might seem to get stuck at times or repeat myself, but I will get there eventually. What my brain cannot execute in the neurotypical way, my reflective reviews, journaling, ANT’s charts and blogging will help me sort through the fluff and confusion. I find the backbone, the root and the will.

Writing helps me to find my confidence in a world where I am constantly trying to learn an ever changing language. Favoured items are static they are easy to comprehend and automatically will gain trust and care. Animals can be studied and act in a predictable way most of the time with a need for self care. People are constantly changing they are unpredictable and fascinating. Change can cause me major insecurity, anxiety and even paranoia when I am not focused on helping myself but allowing myself to just drift along.

Sharing is like my accountability, it’s like me opening up a covenant I make with myself. In my openness and honesty I can no-longer keep making excuses and finding ways out.

A way out of what?

Honestly…I’m still coming to terms with not being able to fit!

That’s right, I’m still coming to terms with not being able to fit! It is so much easier to take my stroppy teenage view and think that people are just plan nasty. But I don’t believe they are, I know that there are a lot of lovely people in this world. Growing up undiagnosed without any early intervention has caused me deep scars. I will not let my past define who I am today, or who I am growing into tomorrow.

I document me because my process might help another

I went to see a psychologist a few weeks ago and the main thing I took away from this meeting was how deeply I hurt from always feeling socially isolated. Growing up always being the onlooker that would have loved to have had just one true friend. To have always been seeking deep and loyal friendship but never understood why I got left out. I now have to fight the mental scar of never really feeling that I am acceptable.

I have wonderful online friendships

They are with the most beautiful and loving people and I am so very grateful for each and every one of them. However in my everyday life I have surface level acquaintanceships where I can never really be myself. I still wear the mask.

I know how to look like I fit

I can look like I fit that well no-one even notices how much I am struggling. I found my own way of hiding in the mass, I’m the quiet observer that speaks when spoken to. I have lots of personas I can use for different environments. They are all so very well rehearsed within the loops and replays predicted in my mind. When in unfamiliar circumstances I pass as shy with a touch of eccentric, but that is not who I truly am. Truth being told being part of the social norm means I am forever treading water, swimming against the current, feeling out of my depth and it is so mentally draining and such bloody hard work.

My shutdowns have become a place of comfort

Within a shutdown I can block out everything, everyone and every thought. I know in this place that I can also block out me as I take a step away.

Over the years I have learned to switch off me so that I can focus on others and show the empathy, sympathy that I have been told I don’t understand. I have learned to take on another’s pain and carry it inside as to not be uncaring. SPD makes sure I feel it too. I didn’t realise that for most people it doesn’t physically hurt when they cry. I didn’t cry for many years when I shut out and shutdown to people. I can understand feelings, I have my understanding of empathy and I feel pain for others within me. I have always understood and I have always felt but I had to learn to show and express in the appropriate way. I have learned to show social kindness to others by being unkind to me.

I can forget to switch me back on

I then lose myself in the maze of life and the passion of people puzzles. My brain loves puzzles, my brain loves finding answers, my heart wants to love and feel loved. People are not puzzles and trying to help is not always what is needed. This is not logical in my mind but I learned to not speak and just to show a certain facial expression I learned from watching my Mom.

I get so busy pleasing others, being who I think they want me to be, that I simply forget to be me. I need to remember to find grounding. I need to remember to return to self. I need to remember that I am worth knowing. I need to remember that I am a unique and loving individual. I need to remember to find my safe place. My Mom was my safe place and without her I can feel very lost. I can find comfort and safety within my faith most of the time. I can also find my safe place when I find me again within my special interests.

What stops me?

I’m still coming to terms with being a dyslexic aspergic geek!

So this is my next step

I need to let the geek out, I need to let me be me.

Face to face female friendships are so socially confusing for me. My geeky intensity and passion for interest is avoided by most NT women. I totally get this and that’s why I don’t let me out very often. When I do I have a wonderful time just being myself.

Let’s face fact though, Aspie women are good at hiding, we are excellent actresses. We learn how to fit or not be seen. When we do get real and some polite person chats and makes us feel accepted, we get excited and forget to hold back a little, we think we have found a friend and can’t wait to see them again. Then we are avoided and the pain we feel from rejection brings back every foul memory from every negative loop we have.

We don’t do the chit chat well. We tend to be too honest and open. We take the conversation to a level that stimulates our own mind without realising we make others uncomfortable. I mean who really wants to get deep and intense about …(insert your own special interests here)… writing, poetry, art, spirituality, ASD’s, animals, fishes, quotes, images, blogging, fantasy and trees.

I find companionship within the blogosphere and I LOVE it

One thing I don’t have is face to face communication with like minded friends.

For any future friends this is who I am.

  • I need to feel accepted and loved for just being me.
  • I need friends who understand I can’t always maintain eye contact but it doesn’t mean I’m not interested.
  • I sometimes need to be intense, it’s how my mind stays focused.
  • I will drift off into daydreams and tangent thoughts but it doesn’t mean I’m not listening.
  • I sometimes just need to be quiet and I need you to be quiet with me while I think.
  • Just because I stop talking doesn’t mean I have finished expressing.
  • I want to be a good friend, I will think of your needs more than my own at times which can make me somewhat annoying.
  • I can get very insecure and feel my ways have hurt you, I fear rejection so I over compensate by being too open and over loving.
  • I am honest and I care deeply
  • I look for what is good in a person but I can be rather naive and gullible.
  • I can be very silly and giggley at times, in these times I may seem insensitive to your needs so I need you to tell me if you need me to be sensible.
  • I won’t just pick up on your feelings by looking at your face.
  • I need to be able to trust, without trust I can’t function within friendship.

I know that God will help me find a way forward. I’m just sharing as I process.

Love and hugs. xx 🙂

My daughter loves to draw

Some of *CAL's stories

Some of *CAL’s stories

*CAL has always loved drawing.

As a small child she would make her own story books. She would draw all the pictures and tell me what words she wanted to write. Then we’d sit and write out her stories together. I still have all those little books; they hold such wonderful memories for me.

Art has always been something she loves to do. So learning art doesn’t mean sitting still and being told about it, for *CAL it means doing it. It’s about her living it, feeling it, seeing it, molding it, shaping it, mixing it, finding it, creating it, imagining it.

For me it’s about capturing it and being present in that moment when she calls out…”MOM!!! Do you want to see what I’ve made?”

One thing that my *CAL is able to do more of now (because of home education) is focus on what she enjoys doing. Focus on her talents, her gifts, her special interests. She is enjoying the journey of everyday in this amazing adventure of learning.

While she was attending mainstream school she was unable to tap into this gift. Even in her art lessons she found it hard because of the noise and movement of the other children. Also the demand to produce work that she wasn’t always interested in, or she felt totally uninspired by, didn’t stimulate her joy for art. Meeting targets, ticking boxes and the overwhelming sensory experience she went through daily was actually switching off her love for art and switching off my little girl. However, she does have a few fond memories of her art lessons at school. Art was the only lesson she looked forward to, it’s a shame it was only an hour a week.

I’m not going to blog anymore on this post about the damage done. It’s in the past, it’s behind us now. This post is about the success we are having. You can read my previous post if you need to fill in any of the background.

In our short time of de-schooling, unschooling/autonomous learning *CAL is really flourishing. Her confidence is coming back along with her words, she’s communicating again now. She has a gallery of over fifty 3D compositions. She attends pottery classes and has created amazing sculptures. We have recently found a home education group for structured and unstructured art where she is able to work with a small group of home educated children in a professional art studio.

salad spinnerShe also has a little friend (4 years of age) who she enjoys creating art with on a regular basis. This is a piece of art they did together with poster paint and a salad spinner. I love this painting and have it hanging in my living room.

This week *CAL has started to research, learn and apply her knowledge to computer animation. There is no stopping her, she just loves to learn. My child who just a few months ago told me that reading is boring is now constantly reading because she WANTS to learn.

I’m so excited today because my *CAL has given me permission to share one of her wonderful new drawings. It has taken a while for her to want to share her work and that is totally fine. I understand her need to have her own special place and I will always support her with this and respect her wishes.

This drawing of Amy Rose is a redesign and *CAL created it on her 3DS using colors 3D. To some people my child may look like she is playing on a gamer gadget, but what she can create freehand on that gadget blows my mind. Did I mention that on the 3DS it can actually be seen in three dimensions, she built it up in layers…it really has the WOW factor!

Amy Redesign

Amy Redesign

NOTE: *CAL is only just 13 years old, she is diagnosed with ASD/Dyspraxia/SPD she has fine and gross motor delay. None of this will stop her from achieving her full potential. The diagnoses were needed while she was in mainstream school to try to get her extra support. The confusion of too many people and too much change on a daily basis was causing her sensory overload and constant shutdowns. I’m not at all against the education system in my country; I just understand that the structure and environment of school isn’t always beneficial for everyone, especially a person with sensory processing disorder.

Trying to write again

1012232_4448425467485_238298099_nTrying to write again

by Alienhippy

From the depth of my emotion and the mess within my mind

I know that words will come as I write my way to find

A comfort deep inside me and a voice which often calls

Ignoring it is pointless, how I’m made cries out for rules


Trigger words and images that cause my mind to bend

Trying to filter through the crap and not hide from my friends

I want to be the way I was and share my poetry

But times have changed, I’m feeling lost, I’m struggling to see


Where I fit and if I’m needed, so I grasp this safety rope

Begging God to help me find a way to not lose hope

To accept the place I’m given and the distance that we share

And pray to love with deeper love because in love I bear


This pain of never feeling in the same room, time or space

Wanting, waiting, praying for acceptance, face to face

Hoping that one day being me, I will embrace

But for now I ponder on, knowing God will show me grace


I’m not like many others I care deeper than most do

I cannot switch off thought nor heart I have to pray them through

I have to take myself, my pain, my love, sin, fear and loss

Being still and listening and learning from The Cross

The invisible people (I need to be accepted not fixed)

invisibleThe invisible people

We stand, we listen, we even try to contribute but we are very rarely seen or heard.

ASD is known as the invisible disability, but do you know what it is like to actually feel you are invisible. That your thoughts and feelings are not important. That even when you try to explain what is going on inside of you, you are still not heard. Or told you are being ridiculous.

Do you know what it feels like to just want to run, curl up in a ball and cry for the rest of the day. To be so drained you don’t want to think of anything at all, but your mind won’t let you stop.

To sit rocking in a safe spot away from everyone you love, because the pain is unbearable.

Do you know what it’s like to have everything spinning in your head but only be able to think of one thing…escape.

Do you know how patronising it is to be told you are just out of your comfort zone, you will adapt!

How loud do we have to be?

If I throw a chair across the room you might listen!

But if I try to explain in words, your words are more important than mine.

Maybe if I just keep quiet and go along with it the best I can, I will be fine.

I can just live in my daydream and think of the impossible, my fantasy world.

I will conform I just need to give it time.

After all, that’s what everyone keeps telling me.

What do I know? I’m just an invisible person!


Posted September 8, 2011 on my other blog “Listening through the Loops”

Looking Forward not back!

Looking Forward not back!

by Alienhippy

If I had a time machine, where would I go in time?

It’s quite simple really, I’d go back to 1969

I would befriend my own Mother at the age of 19

She’d be pregnant with me, my face yet unseen


I wouldn’t tell her who I was, but…I’d tell her I’m an Aspie

I’d tell her all about the problems my Aspie life has dealt me

She wouldn’t have a clue but her nature would be loving

I saw her hospitality all the time when I was growing


I saw how her personality would really confuse my Dad

His inability to socialise made him get really mad

But he couldn’t express in words or write how he felt down

So…we would have the aftermath of his Autistic meltdown


I’d explain to my Mom how important it is, to look out for what is the trigger

I’d mention about the damage done, when hearing people snigger

I’d talk to her about how it was when I was just a teen

So she could be aware of reasons why I go off into my daydream


I’d tell her what objects she needs to hide make her aware of my depressions

Be aware of all the times and why I skived off so many lessons

I’d tell her all about my dyslexia, so she’d get me all the help I’d need

She’d find a way to help me cope and…maybe learn earlier to read

She’d then understand that I’m not shy just fearful of rejection

She’d learn to broaden my horizon not smother me with over protection


But if I had a time machine and I went back in time

And changed the person who I am…this life would not be mine

All the stuff I’m learning the things I share with my friends

And all the love I feel inside as God helps me to mend


All the memories God can use the bad ones and the good

Would not be mine, I’d not be me, so I don’t think I should

Even think about a time machine, because now God helps me see

That His plan is I’m an Aspie and I can help by just being me


NOTE: This poem was written two years ago, my blog is helping me to see patterns in my meltdowns and shutdowns. I will write more about what I have learned over Christmas when God helps me find my words again.

Love and hugs. Lisa. xx 🙂