Posted on August 27, 2023
TW: Mentions of ableism, severe depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation.
Us international Taylor Swift fans have been waiting for The ERAS Tour to come and visit us for months and finally, we have dates! (Through some bizarre twist of fate, the announcement, the registration, the extra dates announcement, and the opening of resale tickets all occurred while I was at therapy, so I don’t think it would surprise anyone to learn that I rescheduled the sessions that were booked for the days of the actual ticket sales – thank god for my very understanding therapist).
So the tour is coming – possibly the most exciting event of next year – but before I could be excited about that, the ticket sales had to be navigated. And given how horrific the US sale had been, I was – at the very least – very apprehensive. I hoped that, after the previous fiascos, this sale would be smoother but, having witnessed the anxiety and misery and disappointment, I couldn’t help but worry that this sale would be just as bad, with the added hurdle of trying to get accessible seating.
Having pre-ordered the Midnights album during the period in which it granted you a code for tour dates, I had access to the ticket sales a week earlier than the ticket sales for which you had to register. That was definitely helpful, in some ways at least. In the week leading up to this first sale, my Mum and I spoke to the Wembley accessibility people several times, trying to get the most accurate information about getting tickets through them. My Mum had to actually make the calls since making a phone call is something that is a real struggle for me as an autistic person, especially when the phone call has high stakes or I have anxiety about it (I can handle other forms of communication – I just can’t gather enough information from just a voice to keep up a conversation in real time and the anxiety of screwing up just makes the processing worse and the whole thing snowballs until I become non-verbal or descend into a meltdown). So Mum made the phone calls and we tried to get the clearest picture we could, but the information changed with every call and, on the Friday (with the tickets going on sale on Monday morning), they still weren’t sure of anything. They were really only certain of one thing: they were very, very aware of how high the demand was, part of the reason why they were so reluctant to commit to any of the information they did have. It was very stressful and I spent the weekend consumed with anxiety over whether or not I would be able to get tickets to even one show, having hoped to go a couple of times with different friends and family members. The dread I felt at the thought of not getting to go was paralysing.
Most people don’t seem to understand the intensity of my emotions. Technically, it could be part of being neurodivergent or mentally ill but it’s always just felt like part of me: it’s me, hi, I feel everything at 500%, it’s me. I feel every emotion with my whole body; it’s just always been that way. And people have always been weird about it (especially when it comes to loving Taylor actually – I’ve been mocked and harassed for years for being a fan of hers, often for reasons that completely baffle me). It hurts – and that hurt is very intense too – but I’d always rather love things, regardless of what people say. Taylor and her music (and seeing her live) are and always have been so important to me, getting me through hard times and bringing me such life affirming joy; as hard as it can be, it doesn’t surprise me that the thought of not getting to see her live after waiting so long feels like a lifeline being cut.
Monday morning, I woke up so anxious that I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t do anything. When the time came, when the online queue and phone lines ‘opened,’ Mum rang the accessibility number. It rang and rang until it went through to an automated message before hanging up. We tried again. And again and again and again. We kept getting the same message and we were still calling when the queue moved from the first of the Wembley shows in June to the first of the Wembley shows in August in the early afternoon. We were still calling as the clock inched towards five and the closing of the phone lines. I’d been sitting with Mum, unable to do anything and on the edge of the meltdown all day. I was exhausted, in pain, and swinging between misery and rage, in tears over how awful the experience was. It was (and still is) so desperately distressing that it seemed literally impossible to get a ticket for accessible seating, to access the concerts as a disabled person. It just felt – and feels – like yet another part of the world telling us that we’re not worth the effort, that we don’t matter as much as everyone else. It’s a deeply hopeless feeling. And as if the situation wasn’t hard enough on its own, I’ve been struggling with suicidal thoughts and impulses for a while now and between the dwindling possibility of getting accessible tickets and the crushing display of ableism, those thoughts were only getting louder and more difficult to block out.
Tuesday was more of the same, just with an awful day and awful night’s sleep under my belt. Mum and I were glued to the sofa again, calling over and over and over. Morning turned into afternoon, another show disappearing. Wembley Stadium had tweeted a response to the criticism on social media: “Due to unprecedented demand waiting time for Taylor Swift | The Eras Tour Disabled Access is longer than normal. For those unable to wait on the phone we have a call-back system.” Seeing that filled me with the urge to throw my phone across the room: when we’d spoken to them, the ‘unprecedented demand’ was the only thing they had known about. I wanted to scream.
The night before, a friend had suggested looking at Twitter to see if other disabled fans had posted about having a similar experience. I didn’t remember her suggestion until the afternoon but once I did, I went searching and found my experience repeated over and over. On one hand, it was reassuring because I wasn’t alone but on the other, here was this huge number of people who weren’t able to get tickets because Wembley’s accessibility department wasn’t doing its job. I spent the afternoon tweeting back and forth with this group of people: trying to find a better way, sharing different phone numbers that different people had had success with, updating each other on our progress, sharing the successes and the miseries and frustrations. One fan, Faith Martin (she wrote a great piece for Metro about what the experience was like was disabled fans), spent an amazing amount of time trying to help people get tickets, long after she got tickets for herself; I really appreciated her support and encouragement. (I’m sure there were other fans doing this, helping other fans for other UK venues but Faith is the person I saw doing this, the person who helped me.) Having that little community in such a fraught time was comforting; I’ve never had anything like that before.
Eventually, just before the lines closed for the day, we got through and were finally, finally able to get tickets. When my Mum hung up the phone and triumphantly announced that we had tickets, I collapsed back onto the sofa and burst into tears. I was overwhelmingly relieved but also totally overwhelmed by the exhaustion and anxiety making my hands shake, by the excruciating pain in my limbs, back, neck, and skull. But most of all, I was just completely overwhelmed by how hurt I felt by the ableism of the process (especially compared to the ease of the online general ticket sale), by how little my very existence meant to them even though I was paying them for the space I would be inhabiting. God, you know it’s bad when you’re paying to take up space and still no one cares because of the ‘inconvenience’ you present. I was pleased – of course, I was – but all the other big emotions were drowning it out. I knew I’d be thrilled later on, once I’d recovered from the unbelievable stress of those two days.
And it’s true. It took a couple of weeks to fully return to my day-to-day state but now that I have, I am really, really excited. But having said that – and I know I’ll say it a lot over the next year – I still feel hurt by how Wembley handled it all, how they treated their disabled patrons. I’m hurt and I’m angry and if there was anything I could do that would affect any change, that would be more than me simply shouting into the void, then I’d do it. Without a second thought. But if there is, I have no idea what it would be. So here I am, sharing my experience about, if only to remind people that this sort of thing – and worse, of course, much, much worse – happens every day. Even the processes set up supposedly to help us are failing us, and worse, hurting us.
I’ll leave you with what I tweeted after I got my tickets: “I knew that getting #ErasTour tickets would be hard but I didn’t expect the level of ableism. By making it so much harder for us, they’re essentially telling us that we aren’t as important as everyone else, that we don’t matter as much, and that was deeply, deeply upsetting.”
And here are some of the articles that have been written about this, including the experiences of several disabled fans. (Note: please don’t read the comments sections of these articles because the dismissive, ableist bile coming from people – most of whom are totally missing the point – is honestly painful and there is no reason to subject yourself to that if you don’t have to.)
Category: about me, anxiety, autism, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, depression, emotions, family, heds, meltdowns, mental health, music, special interests, suicide Tagged: ableism, ableist, accessibility, accessible seating, anxiety, asc, asd, autism, autism spectrum condition, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, bullying, carer, carer's ticket, chronic fatigue, chronic fatigue syndrome, chronic pain, companion ticket, concert, depression, disability, disabled, disabled access, eds, ehlers danlos syndrome, emotional rollercoaster, enjoyment, eras tour, eras tour 2024, eras tour london, exhaustion, fan, fans, fatigue, fibromyalgia, fun, heds, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, institutional ableism, joy, live music, mental illness, mum, music, pain, phone calls, recovery, rest, safety, special interest, stress, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, swifties, taylor swift, tension, therapy, ticket, ticket sales, tickets, twitter, wembley, wembley stadium
Posted on August 12, 2023
Several months ago, I got an email with a survey for a new clothing line that prioritises neurodivergent people, known as Rare Birds. They already had plans to make the clothes soft, seamless, without labels, and so on, all things that neurodivergent individuals often struggle with; problems like these can trigger anything from difficulty concentration to full-blown meltdowns. This definitely appealed to me, having struggled with clothing and fabric issues all my life, and I eagerly filled out the first and then the second survey with my preferences, what a clothing line would ideally provide me with. Then, back in July I think, they launched the line and I bought a handful of items, hopeful that I’d find things I loved but also just curious about what they did with the survey results and how that data has translated into the actual clothes.
So here are my thoughts on my order, on the clothes that I bought.
My first impression when I unpacked them (apart from the overwhelming smell of plastic that plumed out of the box – it was so strong it actually gave me a headache and I knew I’d have to wash whatever I kept a handful of times before I could wear them) was that the fabric wasn’t what I’d been hoping for. I’m a 100% cotton girl and the clothes felt more lycra-like, more stretchy and slippery, which didn’t thrill me. But I wasn’t going to be put off just by that; I felt like I had to give them a real chance. First impressions and all that…
So, because I wanted to get a real sense of what the line was like, I’d bought several things (which ended up being pretty expensive but I’ll come back to that later):
Everyday Short-Sleeve T-Shirt (in black) – This big, loose t-shirt is described as “gentle on the skin and super soft to the touch” and in their ThermoSoft range, made of 68% Bamboo, 28% Organic Cotton, and 4% Elastane. It’s reported to be stretchy, durable, super soft, breathable, and thermo-regulating (the bamboo helps to regulate your body temperature, making sure you stay cool when it’s hot and warm when it’s cold). It was comfortable, if not my fabric preference, but not more comfortable than most of the t-shirts I already own and I wouldn’t wear it out; it’s a bit shapeless and I felt kind of frumpy in it.
Everyday Long-Sleeve T-Shirt (in black) – Part of the CloudComfort collection, this soft long-sleeve top is made from 95% Modal (made from beech trees and considered more eco-friendly than cotton) and 5% Elastane. They describe it as ultra soft, durable, lightweight, and breathable. The last part is what I liked most about it: it felt very light and airy, even if the fabric isn’t quite my preference. I think it would be good for summer, especially since I’ve semi-recently developed the compulsive urge to be covered up at all times. It’s a nicer shape than the short-sleeve t-shirt too. It was probably my favourite of the things we bought, although I’m still not sure how comfortable I’d feel wearing it outside the house; it’s not as flattering as I would have liked (and I don’t mean tight – I wouldn’t want it to be tight – I mean in regards to its shape).
Everyday Leggings (in black) – Made of 86% Organic Cotton and 14% Elastane, these leggings from the FlexSoft range (described as blending “the softness of Organic Cotton with the stretchiness of Elastane to create a fabric that maintains its shape with ease while being gentle on the skin”) are supposed to be soft and comfortable (even for the very sensitive skin), stretchy but strong, lightweight, and will retain their shape despite frequent wash and wear. They were strong and supportive but I’m not completely convinced by the shaping of them: the waistband was uncomfortably tight at a strange point of my torso, which was particularly unpleasant when sitting.
Everyday Joggers (in black) – Also in the ThermoSoft range, these thin sweatpants are made of 68% Bamboo, 28% Organic Cotton, and 4% Elastane: stretchy, durable, super soft, breathable, and thermo-regulating. I found them light and thin (not heavy, like the fabric of some sweatpants) and I think they’d be particularly good in the summer but they’re far too like pyjamas to ever wear out. And while I know sweatpants are about comfort and not about looking good, I felt actively unattractive in them, which I think I would struggle with long term. (The idea of Dopamine Dressing is something that I’m intrigued by and want to test out at some point to see if it does improve my mood and confidence and motivation).
DreamSeam Socks (in black) – They were beautifully soft, I have to give them that, made of 75% Bamboo, 23% Polyester, and 2% Elastane, and I love that they don’t have seams (I’ve been wearing my socks inside out for years in order to avoid them) but I couldn’t even bear to open them when I saw how expensive they were (£10 for one pair of socks – when I’d made the order, Mum and I had been talking about it, she’d done it on her laptop, and either she didn’t mention the pricing to me or I missed her telling me). That’s just too expensive (especially in the case of the socks when you can just turn them inside out).
And that was something I wanted to talk about in general. A significant percentage of the neurodivergent population are unemployed for various reasons and so to charge so much for basic items makes them, as far as I can tell, pretty unavailable to the people they’re making them for. I want to support them and I can understand many of the reasons why they may need to cost what they do but I certainly can’t afford it as a general practice. It’s all too expensive for me to base my wardrobe around; they are simple, basic pieces after all and not fashion or statement pieces for which you’d expect to spend more. I want to support them but while they’re this expensive, there’s a limit to what I could buy.
Another general issue that I noticed is that none of the clothes have sizes bigger than XL. Other than excluding anyone who wears sizes bigger than this, it’s not uncommon for neurodivergent people to want their clothes loose to avoid feeling uncomfortable or overstimulated; while it’s true that most of these clothes are roomy, I’d imagine that anyone who’s size L or above and looking for baggy clothes will struggle without bigger sizes. Maybe this is something they’ll introduce over time but I have noticed it while perusing their website.
And on a personal note, I didn’t feel good in pretty much any of it: I felt unattractive and like, to others, as if I hadn’t put any effort into my appearance. I know they’re meant to be the basics but still, they didn’t make me feel good about how I looked or confident in my appearance, which we know is really important when it comes to our mental health, our confidence, our relationships… As I mentioned earlier, the idea of Dopamine Dressing – dressing in a way that boosts your mood, your productivity, your confidence – is real, even if the evidence is still largely anecdotal in the neurodivergent population: if I’m excited about the clothes I’m wearing and how I look, I’m likely to feel more confident and social and motivated because I feel good in myself. I can’t believe I’m the only person who feels this way. That is something I think is lacking here and hopefully will be addressed in the future.
Although I didn’t have a hugely positive experience this time, I think that overall, it’s a really positive thing. Different people want different things so I can hardly be annoyed that it’s not everything I wanted right off the bat; I guess I just hoped that I’d like it more than I do. But as I said, I think it’s a really great venture that I am excited about and will continue to support. It’s brand new and you’ve got to start somewhere; there are so many avenues that they can explore from this point. I’ll be keeping an eye on it to see what they go on to release and whether that is more my thing.
Category: adhd, anxiety, autism, body image, chronic pain, meltdowns, mental health, response Tagged: adhd, anxiety, anxiety disorder, asd, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, autism, autism spectrum disorder, brand review, clothing, clothing line, clothing review, fabric, first impression, generalised anxiety disorder, mental health, mental illness, neurodivergence, neurodivergent, rare birds, review, sensitive, sensory, sensory issues, sensory overload, sensory overwhelm, sensory processing, sensory sensitivity, specialist clothing
Posted on August 8, 2023
Happy World Cat Day! I am both deeply a cat person and a dog person, even though I don’t have a dog right now, and my cats are one of the great loves of my life so, for World Cat Day, I thought I’d research and share why cats are so incredibly good for us. But before I get started with that, I wanted to share my favourite fact: we know that our relationship with cats goes back thousands of years but some research shows that cats essentially domesticated themselves in South Asia, befriending humans for a ‘mutually beneficial relationship’ (although, let’s face it, it probably started out as an easy way of getting food). (x) And clearly, we’ve always been obsessed with them: in 889 CE (also known as AD), twenty-two year old Japanese Emperor Uda described his new cat with familiar passion: “the colour of the fur is peerless,” “when it stands, its cry expresses profound loneliness, like a black dragon floating above the clouds,” and “I am convinced it is superior to all other cats.” (x) Who of us cat owners have not described our cats in similar ways and with similar pride?
IN THERAPY
EFFECTS ON THE BRAIN
EFFECT ON EMOTIONS
EFFECTS ON THE BODY
EFFECTS ON LIFESTYLE
I found an excellent story during my research…
“I have a cat and I couldn’t manage without him. Yes, he provides comfort and unconditional love, but he also keeps me on track. I used to work with chimps and sign language, so when I got a kitten, I placed a very high priority on his communication skills and on shaping gestures he used naturally. I also used food puzzles and other things to keep his mind active. He knows what time I need to be up for work in the morning. Unless I tell him the night before that we can sleep in, he pokes me awake 3 or 4 minutes before the alarm. If I space out cuddling with him, he gives me a minute or so, and then he stands up and uses his limited gestures to say firmly, ‘You. GO,’ and waits to make sure I’m up before he leaves the room. He knows how long it takes me to wash and dress. If I dawdle too long deciding what to wear, he’s in the doorway checking to see what’s taking so long. If I leave something in the oven and forget about it, or leave a burner on after I’ve taken a pot off it, he lets me know. Sometimes I assume he’s just looking for attention and scold him for making a ruckus when I’m trying to focus, but if it’s a safety issue, he won’t stop until I give up and say, ‘FINE! SHOW me what’s wrong,’ and then he leads me to the stove, or wherever the issue is. He’s most certainly the grown-up in the relationship.” (x)
MY CATS
If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you’ll know that I have five cats, all related to each other. Lucy came first and then we kept her second litter of kittens, Tiger and Mouse, and then – to even the vet’s surprise – Mouse suddenly had two kittens, Sooty and Sweep, that – for a number of reasons, including the pandemic – we ended up keeping. I love them all dearly and it’s sweet how, not only have they all developed different relationships with each other, they’ve developed different relationships with me.
Lucy is my anchor. She’s always there, curled up next to me or snoozing somewhere in the same room. She doesn’t want to be cuddled all of the time but she always wants to be nearby; she likes to know what’s happening and what I’m doing. It’s very sweet. And she probably looks after me more than I look after her: she regularly checks in with me, she follows me around, she gets anxious if she can’t be in a room with me, she’s always really pleased to see me when I reappear from behind the shower curtain, she tries to usher me to bed when it gets really late and then sits with me to make sure I don’t get up again, and so on. It’s adorable. She’s the queen of the house though and she absolutely knows it.
Tiger is my snuggle buddy. Up until recently, she’d come for a cuddle now and then but she was usually too busy exploring the garden or playing with the other cats (plus she does have a favourite spot for snoozing). But after I went to the US and then Germany, it’s almost like she realised that she really doesn’t like it when I go away – I think all five cats got very comfortable with my Mum and I being home all the time since the pandemic began. As soon as I got home, she was all over me and ever since, she’s been coming to me for long cuddle sessions multiple times a day. It’s very cute, especially given how independent she was before. I’m certainly not turning her down, even if her tail is a weapon of mass disruption.
Mouse and Sweep are my floofs. Sweep has always been Mouse’s baby and they are definitely a bonded pair, which is a gorgeous thing to witness: they are curled up together all the time and even in the summer heat, they lie as close together as possible without touching (although Sweep often reaches out with her paw to touch Mouse, like she’s reassuring herself that she’s still there). Sweep frequently runs to Mouse for reassurance after something traumatic happens (the most traumatic thing to ever happen to her is the unexpected appearance of the window cleaner’s brush) or runs into the room, calling for her. It’s so cute how much she loves. She’ll rush up to Mouse and flop down on top of her, getting as close as possible, something that I’m not sure Mouse always appreciates. Mouse has always been the most skittish of the pride but she’s getting more affectionate and playful as she gets older, which is lovely. And we’ve started trying to teach them all tricks, mainly for our own entertainment, and Mouse has definitely been the fastest to pick them up. And Sweep is the complete opposite. I’ve started referring to her as ‘my little neurodivergent baby.’ I don’t know if there’s any proof that neurodiversity exists in any species other than humans but it seems unlikely that it’s just us; I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s only so obvious in humans because neurodivergent individuals are forced to live in a neurotypical society, something that animals don’t seem to have, certainly not in the same way. If those pressures aren’t there, then maybe neurodivergence doesn’t manifest in the same way. Anyway. I think of Sweep as neurodivergent because she seems to think and process completely differently to the other four, like they think in words and she thinks in pictures – or the cat equivalent. She still struggles with the cat flap, she doesn’t seem to understand how doing tricks works at all, she likes to hide away from everyone but has her special bond with Mouse, she seems to experience a lot more anxiety than the rest of them… I don’t know. She’s just very different to the others, not that we love her any less.

Sooty is my baby. She’s always seemed to think of me as her mother, even when she was a teeny tiny kitten. I wonder if that’s because Sweep and Mouse are always so entangled but whatever the reason, it’s adorable and I’m not turning down her affections. She always wants to sit on the sofa with me, demanding that I stretch out my legs so that she can stretch out between them; it’s her favourite spot. She’s also very playful and she and Lucy are a particularly playful pair, although she’ll play with anyone who will engage with her. She still feels very much a baby, Sweep too, even though they’re four now (which seems unbelievable to me but then I guess the pandemic really screwed with our perception of time) and that’s very sweet. I kind of hope she always will; I think she’ll probably always be my baby (although, to a degree, they’re all my babies).

APRIDEOFCATS
To avoid overwhelming people with cat pictures on my Instagram, which is focussed on me as a singersongwriter, I created a new account, aprideofcats, so that I could post as many as I wanted. It’s as much as for my own entertainment as anything else. I stopped using it for a while – when I was struggling with social media in general – but I’ve recently started posting on it and having a great time, trying to choose between the ridiculous amount of cute pictures that I have of them.
So there you have it: concrete evidence that cats are amazing. I’m just kidding, although I do love cats and my cats in particular. I think it’s fascinating that just spending time with animals – and in this case, cats – can have such dramatic effects on us and our health, physical and mental. I hope this has been interesting and fun and if you liked the cute little faces of my cats, please do follow my cat instagram: there will be plenty more photos of them going up.
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Category: about me, adhd, animals, anxiety, autism, depression, emotions, mental health, quotes, research, sleep, therapy Tagged: adhd, anxiety, anxiety disorder, asd, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, blood pressure, cat, cats, confidence, depression, history, kitten, kittens, loneliness, mindfulness, neurodivergence, neurodivergent, neurotypical, pet therapy, post traumatic stress disorder, ptsd, research studies, self esteem, time management, wellbeing, world cat day

Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), ADHD (Inattentive Type), and Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), as well as several mental health issues.
I’m a singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is on all platforms, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My debut EP, Honest, is available on all platforms, with a limited physical run at Resident Music in Brighton.
I’m currently working on an album about my experiences as an autistic woman.
Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD), ADHD (Inattentive Type), and Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS), as well as several mental health issues.
I’m a singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) so I’ll probably write a bit about that too.
My first single, ‘Invisible,’ is on all platforms, with all proceeds going to Young Minds.
My debut EP, Honest, is available on all platforms, with a limited physical run at Resident Music in Brighton.
I’m currently working on an album about my experiences as an autistic woman.
Finding Hope