Posted on December 24, 2025
I really didn’t mean to abandon this blog but the last four months have been completely miserable, healthwise.
Less than a week after I last posted, I started experiencing what felt like electric shocks in my lower back. It was so painful that, at times, all I could do was scream. Even when the electric-shock-like spasms weren’t actively happening, I was in – quite possibly – the worst pain I’ve ever experienced. And given my experience with chronic pain, that’s saying something. It was horrendous, especially as the painkillers that usually give me some relief weren’t having any effect. Eventually I managed to get some stronger painkillers from my GP and they were so strong that, for the first few days, I could barely keep my eyes open: I was asleep for around twenty hours each day. Thankfully, that did wear off after a while but I still felt slow and blurry while taking them.
It was a completely new kind of pain for me and while we had a few theories from the network of health professionals I’ve worked with, we still didn’t know what was causing it, how long it would go on for, or if it was a permanent change. The massage therapist I’ve done some work with – who has both personal and professional experience of Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and chronic pain – was a godsend and thankfully, my Mum found a new physiotherapist nearby who had professional experience with hEDS and who was able to come to the house to see me. He was fantastic: he was thoughtful and thorough and explained everything with great care (sometimes multiple times); he really listened to me and took my priorities into account when choosing the exercises for me to do; I felt like he actually cared about me as a whole person, which has not been a common experience. He assessed me and felt that I had a pinched nerve in my lumbar spine, which typically heals in about eight to twelve weeks. That felt like an interminably long time but I was relieved to hear that he expected the pain to go away. He gave me some very gentle exercises to do as I felt able to, with the goal of strengthening the muscles in my back to support my especially hypermobile lumbar spine (and hopefully reduce my chronic pain). Between the pills (despite the side effects), the massage, the physiotherapy exercises, and the time that I was forced to take to rest properly, the pain finally started to decrease and I was able to slowly increase my mobility – I’m still working on that.
Unfortunately that was only the first part of the story. In early October, I started to struggle with multiple symptoms that I’ve rarely experienced, including stomach pain, nausea, acid reflux, and difficulty swallowing. It made eating so difficult that I could barely keep any food down and it made sleeping difficult because I felt worse when I was lying down. I felt awful but my Mum had been unwell a week or so earlier and so I assumed that it was the same thing and would pass relatively quickly; I thought I just had to rest and wait it out, like I often do with a seasonal illness or the symptoms of my chronic illnesses. But that didn’t happen. The symptoms got more intense until I wasn’t eating at all – sips of water were all I could manage – and the POTS symptoms I experience everyday had become debilitating. I hate going to the doctor but if there was ever a time, this was it.
I managed to get an appointment with one of the GPs pretty quickly – not my usual GP but that isn’t unusual and I did manage to get an appointment with her for later in the week – but when I explained what was happening, this doctor said that there wasn’t time to explore each of the symptoms so she questioned me about the difficulty swallowing, prescribed me a medication, and sent me on my way. I was deeply unimpressed and had no confidence in her diagnosis or the medication: treating one symptom when several are presenting at the same time… that seemed very unlikely to help whatever was causing the multiple symptoms. I’m passionate about the NHS (and about improving it) but it’s not exactly straightforward when I’ve been repeatedly invalidated and mistreated by medical professionals.
I didn’t have time to even take the medication before the stomach pain got so bad that I couldn’t move. We ended up calling 111 and their recommendation was to call an ambulance and head to A&E. The idea of being in an ambulance – as an already overstimulated autistic person – felt horrific and I almost had a meltdown; I didn’t know what I was supposed to do when I felt like I could barely move. Eventually my Mum had to all but drag me into a cab to go to A&E. For once, being autistic was a help rather than a hindrance because the receptionist moved us straight from the initial waiting room into the actual A&E department where people were being assessed and treated. We still had a considerable wait ahead of us, which felt incredibly long given how much pain I was in. It wasn’t exactly a restful environment either: besides the patients and nurses coming in and out, there were paramedics and police and one young woman who cried the entire time she was there. If I hadn’t been in so much pain and so overstimulated, I might’ve been impressed – and a lot more sympathetic. But I was running on empty and on the edge of sensory overload and all I wanted was some quiet; it was a rough night – for everyone clearly.
After a couple of hours, several different nurses did a series of tests, including taking blood and doing an ECG (during which my cannula from the blood draw was jostled, leading to the bruise pictured below – that hurt for a while). A little while later, another nurse gave me a low dose of morphine that did, thankfully, slowly bring my pain level down. But after that, we were left for several hours; even when we were the only people left in the little waiting area, no one came for us or even gave us an update. I was starting to think we’d been forgotten about.
When a doctor did finally call my name, he didn’t have any real answers for me. He did at least have a reasonable understanding of hEDS and how it can cause strange or skewed test results: a hEDS body does not react to anything the same way a non-hEDS body does, surprise surprise. So there was no obvious explanation for my symptoms but he prescribed antibiotics and recommended getting a referral to the hospital’s Gastroenterology department if the symptoms weren’t resolved by the antibiotics. I don’t love the approach of just throwing medication at a problem and hoping it helps but I was desperate and that was the only option being offered.
(Left: the bruise left by my cannula, having being knocked during A&E tests // Right: me, asleep on the sofa the day after the night spent in A&E with Izzy keeping me company)
We got home around seven and I was asleep the moment I lay down on the sofa. I was just completely exhausted. I took the antibiotics I’d been prescribed but then, when I saw my actual GP, she was surprised by how high the dose was, adjusted it, and prescribed another antibiotic, as well as sending the referral to the Gastroenterology department at the hospital. Again, it wasn’t exactly reassuring since we still didn’t know what the actual problem was and I was starting to spiral a bit about the possibility that this was more than just a passing illness, that it was something much more serious that was getting overlooked (with the potential to lead to an even more debilitating outcome). But I tried not to go down that rabbit hole. I was trying to at least give the various medications a chance to work.
Over the next few weeks, I just lay on the sofa and tried to eat when I felt able to. Between my body trying to fight whatever was going on and the fact that it was trying to function on very little fuel, I was barely able to do anything. I was forced to rest, to literally just rest; I couldn’t even do the most passive of activities. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. My body and my brain were barely functioning: a good day consisted of a shower and watching TV (and eating what I could). But the medications started to work and, very slowly, I started to feel better and the symptoms started to decrease in intensity, even if I was still building back up my capacity after so long with so little fuel in my body. And then, just as I was finishing the courses of medication, I started to feel actually well again and I don’t think describing my mood as “overjoyed” would be an exaggeration. Eating went from being a struggle to being joyful (a word I don’t think I’ve ever used in the context of eating) and I was sleeping well, not only for the first time in weeks but in months: I was feeling so good that it felt more than a little surreal but I wasn’t complaining. It was a huge relief after eight weeks of feeling so terrible.
But less than a week later, the symptoms started to reappear and I started to feel really unwell again. I had bloodwork done (which had been ordered way back when I’d first gone to the doctor) but all of the tests came back fine or inconclusive again. I was wondering if the medications had been treating just the symptoms and not the underlying issue, which made me deeply anxious about what that underlying issue could be. I wasn’t sure what the next step was supposed to be but I’ve had a lot of conversations with a lot of different people in my various circles and, long story short, it seems that these digestive issues were a delayed response to the increase of one of my long term medications: some (professionally guided) experimentation has proved as much as is possible that my digestive system can’t handle this medication over a certain dosage so I’m currently taking a break from it (which is something you can safely do with this medication) while getting my food routine and some of my energy and strength back. After Christmas, or maybe the New Year, we’ll reassess and I’ll likely start taking it again at the lower dose since I had had a positive experience with it until that final dosage increase.
So that is where I’ve been: too sick to do anything, too sick to even write a blog post about being sick. When I say it’s the most unwell I’ve ever felt, I’m not exaggerating. I’ve dealt with a wide range of symptoms and various levels of pain during my life but never have I been so ill, in the way we typically picture illness. I’ve dialled everything right back to absolute basics and I am starting to feel a bit more normal, despite a few bumps in the road. Fingers crossed, I’ll be feeling more like myself again by the time the New Year rolls around…
Category: animals, autism, blog, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, food, heds, medication, pots, sleep, treatment Tagged: a&e, accident and emergency, acid reflux, antibiotics, anxiety, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic blogger, back pain, blood tests, chronic illness, chronic pain, chronically ill, eds, ehlers danlos syndrome, heds, hospital referral, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, ill, illness, medical anxiety, medical trauma, medication, medication intolerance, medication side effects, nausea, nhs, pain medication, physiotherapy, pinched nerve, postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, pots, recovery, rest, sick, sickness
Posted on July 6, 2024
It’s been more than three years since I started pursuing support for the pain I experience and still I have nothing from the NHS. I go to hydrotherapy as often as I can, although I’m still waiting for the second NHS Hydrotherapy appointment to assess the exercises as I feel I need a harder routine and have been waiting almost six months for that. It’s helpful and I do often enjoy it but I’m still in pain a considerable amount of the time. My GP has said several times that she’ll reach out to the Pain Clinic but we still haven’t heard from them; I haven’t had contact with them since the appointment in November 2021.
This post spans from April 2023 to March 2024.
SINCE LAST UPDATE
Since the last update, I had periods of unpleasant pain but nothing worse than my usual levels of pain. I usually experienced it in phases where it got bad and then receded to all but nothing. I had days where I felt like the only problem was muscle weakness rather than actual pain (despite the hydrotherapy) but most of the time there was some kind of pain in some part of my body; I just didn’t always notice it because I’m so used it at this point. Sometimes I forget to take painkillers because I don’t recognise that what I’m feeling is pain.
JUNE 2023
Everything was normal – I was still waiting for an appointment with the NHS Hydrotherapy Department and my GP was still chasing up the Pain Clinic – until I managed to seriously hurt my back. I don’t know what I did. I really don’t. I was sitting on the ground, playing with my neighbours puppies, and then, when I tried to get up, my back was so painful that I could barely move. At first I figured that sitting on the ground without any support for my back had just resulted in a strained muscle or something and that a few hours on my heat pad would sort it but hours later, I still thought I’d collapse or scream or throw up if I so much as turned slightly to one side or the other; it was horrendous. I think it was honestly the worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my life; at the very least, it’s in the top five. It was worse than the cracked rib, no question.
Again, I thought a few days of the heat pad and painkillers would, at the very least, get the healing going but almost a week later, I was still barely able to move and the muscles spasmed several times that resulted in me sobbing on the floor, unable to get up – actually physically unable. We had to call 111 several times because of the days and times of those moments (and because I genuinely felt like I couldn’t move and therefore get up and go to the doctor). I was taking my strongest painkillers but they weren’t making that much difference and I could only take them for three days at a time; I dreaded the days when I couldn’t take them. Plus my sleep was terrible because the pain woke me up every time I turned over.
Eventually I had to go to the doctor and he was convinced by my pain straight away, given that I was hobbling like someone who’d just celebrated their hundredth birthday. He was understanding and sympathetic and recommended medication for a few weeks before reassessing. He ran through the options (I’ve already tried most of them and found them ineffective) and almost prescribed me Tramadol (a drug my arthritic dog used to take, which amused me) but then he discovered that it would’ve interacted badly with my antidepressant, Phenelzine (something I’d already assumed before he could even look it up). So he gave me a combination of weaker ones and said that, if those hadn’t worked in a couple of weeks, then we would revisit and try something different.
I had to keep my movement extremely limited but I also used a back brace when I did need to do things. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing but the support allowed me to do a bit more and live some life that wasn’t confined to the sofa. The pain killers helped somewhat, at least at the peak of their effectiveness, but it wasn’t until a physiotherapist we know suggested a TENS machine that things really changed (this was about three weeks after the pain started). We attached it to my back, turned it on, and the relief was so overwhelming that I thought my knees would collapse under me. The pain was gone. Well, gone where the pads were attached and it was amazing. It’s not a perfect system – although, if I bought a ridiculously expensive one, it might be – but with that attached to me, I could move around, I could lean, I could actually do things. And I wasn’t constantly exhausted and miserable from the pain.

JULY 2023
More than a month after I originally hurt my back, it was still troubling me, although not at all to the same degree as it had been; between painkillers, the TENS machine, and slowing moving more and more, I got back to almost full movement without pain. I still had to be a bit careful about stretching, and twisting, and lifting but, for the most part, I was back to normal – my normal, at least. Because my normal almost always involves some level of pain in some part of my body.
It was around the month mark that I got back to swimming and hydrotherapy and I was vaguely appalled by how much stamina I’d lost in the time since I’d last been going to the pool consistently (which had almost been two months between the back pain, my trip to Germany, and a closure at the pool). I had to work really hard not to overdo it and go back to my old routine straight away, building up again, but it was extremely frustrating. My work in the pool did aggravate my back a bit and it took some TLC after each session but very, very slowly, things started to get back to normal.

In mid-July, I also started physiotherapy, trying to build up the strength and stability of my muscles, especially my core, as is recommended for Hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome (she said some really interesting things about hypermobility – specifically as it applied to exercise but it was also interesting in general – and I couldn’t wait for this post to talk about it so I posted about that here). It felt like a somewhat humiliatingly ‘easy’ routine to be completely exhausted by but if it’s going to help with the pain, help me swim more, help me survive the Taylor Swift concerts next summer… I’ll do whatever it takes. The early days of the exercises were tough but it was kind of exciting, knowing that I was moving forward bit by bit, slowly getting closer to my goals. I can’t remember ever feeling strong or in complete control of my body and while I don’t feel that way at this point, I can’t help the little surge of hope that all of this will get me there one day.
I also read about a charity swim in September and that got me really excited. I swear, almost all charity challenges are fitness related – always charity walks or runs – which I find deeply frustrating because I want to help and be involved but I just can’t handle those; I can’t even walk very far without it feeling like there’s glass grinding in my joints. But a swim is perfect. And likely because it’s in aid of a charity, it’s very accessible, the idea being that you choose the length of swim that will challenge you without pushing you to an unsafe or uncomfortable point (one of the lengths is getting in the pool, which I think is fantastic, because, for some people, just getting in a pool is a huge challenge). During my next session at the pool, I tested myself to see how far I could go before it felt like I might regret trying to do more, like pushing harder might be problematic, and that turned out to be just over 400m. I don’t think that’s all that bad, considering I haven’t exercised consistently in over a month. So I could do the 400m length swim in September easily; the next goal is 800m but who knows what will happen between now and then…
AUGUST 2023
I continued working on my hydrotherapy and physiotherapy (although I had to take a week off at one point when an ear infection absolutely floored me – pain, deafness, and balance related problems made it all but impossible to walk, let alone do any sort of coordinated exercise). I had my second physiotherapy appointment and that went well; we increased the resistance on some of the exercises and added a few more. My muscles started twitching after I started physio (which initially really freaked me out) before subsiding and that started again with the increase but now we know why it happens, it’s just mildly irritating.
I also tested how far I could swim, about a month after that first experiment, and I managed almost double my original distance and managed it easily; I could’ve gone further had I not run out of time at the pool. I’m really proud of that progress, of the progress I’ve made in both. It’s been so long since I could even do this level of exercise and I can see it translating to the rest of my life, even if it’s slow going.
I wrote about this here but I was also diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. I won’t rehash it, especially since I’m still not sure how I feel about the whole experience, but I don’t want to ignore it, given that one of the main traits of the condition is pain. It’s just that I don’t know how the diagnoses of hEDS, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, and Fibromyalgia fit together and, after everything, I’m so deeply wary of (and triggered, to various degrees, by) doctors. Anyway. In theory at least, that’s part of the picture.
SEPTEMBER 2023
September was a bit of a wild ride that I could’ve done without on the whole. I had ongoing shoulder and elbow pain (no doubt due to my repetitive hair pulling, excruciating lower back pain for over a week (which almost consistently disrupted my sleep, waking me up every time I tried to turn over, so I was tired and unproductive and frustrated too), and several days of awful knee pain, although that was probably my fault: I think I overworked it one night when doing my hydrotherapy exercises and, had I taken the next day to rest it, it probably would’ve recovered quickly but I ended up going to London (and having an almost meltdown on the street), which I’m sure only made it worse. So that wasn’t great but it wasn’t the worst it’s been so I’m not complaining (much).
I had my second hydrotherapy appointment and the hydrotherapist was both impressed and pleased by my commitment and my progress, which was very nice (and encouraging to hear – sometimes it feels hard to tell whether anything is actually changing so it’s comforting to hear from someone who really knows that I am). We discussed the exercise I’d had to cut because it hurt my arm and she gave me a new one that had the same final result but wouldn’t aggravate my elbow joint. Then she gave me about ten new exercises to work on, which I’m excited to get started on. They’ll be working different parts of my body so it’ll be interesting to see what that feels like and what that means for my stability and stamina (if I’m able to tell). I don’t get any more appointments so hopefully these two exercises will keep me going, at least for the foreseeable future. Given my history, I wouldn’t be surprised if I was back at some point with a different problem that needs support; my hEDS is just the gift that keeps on giving. During the rest of my pool time, I’ve also managed to swim a kilometre and do it pretty easily. I thought a lot about the charity swim I’d been planning to do and eventually decided that, instead of the one I’d originally planned to do, I’d rather do one for Mind, for World Mental Health Day. That would be a really meaningful way to celebrate my progress and do something that helps a cause really close to my heart, especially since I can’t do the more traditional charity runs.

I also had another physiotherapy session and my physiotherapist was also really pleased with how I was doing; she commented on it the second I walked into the room, that I was standing better. As I said, I find it really hard to tell if things are changing so the fact that she could see it that immediately was good (and interesting) to hear. We talked about the pain in my shoulder and elbow and she massaged both, which felt amazing; having felt both of the joints, she said she thought I probably had Bursitis in my shoulder and Tendonitis in my elbow. We went through my exercises and she gave me a new exercise in place of one that was hurting my elbow. She also gave me a couple that would strengthen my shoulder and elbow. I started doing them straight away and I could definitely feel them working!
The only other things of note, I guess, are that, one, I had all of the blood tests done that the doctor (the man who’d diagnosed me with Fibromyalgia) had requested and, two, I had my COVID jab (my fourth vaccination, I think), which had my arm hurting for several days. I had to slow down on the physiotherapy (less so the hydrotherapy) but it wasn’t long before I was back to my normal routine.
OCTOBER 2023
I started October, focussed on swimming in order to do my 5km for Mind: the plan was to swim 1km per swim over the course of the week leading up to World Mental Health Day. And then, suddenly, it was time to do the thing. After the work I’d put in, it actually wasn’t too difficult (although I gratefully took some time to rest afterwards) and I really enjoyed it. And family, friends, colleagues, and strangers generously donated over £600! I’d like to do another one at some point but I don’t want to push myself too hard and I really don’t want to take advantage of my community by repeatedly asking them to donate when the cost of living crisis is hitting everyone really hard. So I’ll choose my event and time of year carefully.
As much as I loved the swimming, I had really missed my hydrotherapy exercises, which I’d had to neglect to build up my stamina and then get the 5km done in five different swims. So it was really nice to get back to them and build in the new exercises I’d gotten from the hydrotherapist. I started feeling them in my core straight away, which was very satisfying: it’s proof that the exercises are working the muscles they’re supposed to be.
NOVEMBER 2023
I continued with my physiotherapy and hydrotherapy, although pain in my hip did make it hard and I had to reduce the amount of exercises I was doing. But I did finally get some compression socks to help with my POTS and I definitely felt the difference when standing or walking. They’re not life-changing but I’ll take anything I can get.
Otherwise, things have been okay, although I did fall down while walking along the South Bank in London. It’s all concrete so it was a pretty hard fall but, at this point, I’ve learned how to fall so that it doesn’t do much damage or hurt too much; usually I just feel a bit shaken up. I was with family and several people came over so I was well checked over but I was fine.
DECEMBER 2023
I was having serious pain in my back, on and off throughout the month, which did limit my ability to exercise – and to just move at all. The exhaustion of being in pain made moving my body hard too; it wasn’t a fun time. Between that and Christmas, New Year, and the associated family commitments, I ended up accidentally taking a couple of weeks off anyway.
JANUARY 2024
In the new year, I slowly got back to my swimming, hydrotherapy, and physiotherapy – with an updated routine. I also started to do a bit of indoor cycling, although that was a lot harder. But it’s all, hopefully, going to help with building up my strength and stamina and stability. It did all became much harder work when I changed the medication I take for POTS, switching from Propranolol to Ivabradine because all of my symptoms got worse: I was constantly out of breath and shaky, unsteady and exhausted. It was a rough changeover. I also fell down while in London again. This time was on grass so it really wasn’t a big deal physically: it didn’t hurt at all but I do always feel shaken up, like my skeleton has been rattled around inside my body. It also makes me feel less secure, less in control of my body, which isn’t a nice feeling.
I was still struggling with pain in my back, as well as pain in my hips. Oh, and my elbows. It stopped me from doing my exercises on and off for several weeks, which was frustrating. I’ve told both my doctor and my physiotherapist but no news yet on whether there’s a problem – other than general chronic pain – and what to do about it.
FEBRUARY 2024
The back pain only got worse and was dramatically limiting my exercises as well as my general movement; it was also waking me up at night. I was almost constantly on the only painkillers that seem to make any difference but I can only take those for a few days at a time before I have to take a break. That really sucks because then I undo all of the good – all of the recovery – that the time on painkillers has allowed me to do. So it’s a never ending cycle without any progress. The physiotherapy and hydrotherapy that I did manage to do were really hard and not enjoyable at all.
So it’s been a year of rough ups and downs, steps back and forward and back again. I’ve had some more support this year but I feel like the pain has been worse and consistently so, particularly in my back. I don’t really know what to do at this point but nothing seems to help it. I was hoping things would be better by now (especially because I want to really be able to enjoy the Taylor Swift concerts coming up) but they feel worse, at least to me, than they did at the beginning of the year.
Category: chronic fatigue, chronic pain, exercise, heds, hydrotherapy, medication, pots, sleep, treatment Tagged: 111, back pain, charity swim, chronic pain, co-codamol, compression socks, contraindicatory, doctor, eds, ehlers danlos syndrome, exercise, fall, falling, gp, heds, hydrotherapy, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, hypermobility, ivabradine, medication, medication interaction, mind, mind charity, muscle weakness, nhs, pain, pain clinic, pain management, pain medication, painkillers, phenelzine, physio, physiotherapy, pool, postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, pots, sleep, solpadeine, swimming pool, tens, tens machine, tramadol
Posted on January 1, 2024
TW: Discussion of depression, self harm, and suicidal thoughts and ideation.
Much like last year, I have no idea how to sum up this year. I don’t think I have it in me to write a long post that involves such intense emotions and I think that, if I wait until I do, we might all be waiting a very long time so I’m just going to write until I can’t anymore and that’ll be that. It’s just too hard.
While there have been good moments (some of which can be seen in the collage below), it’s been a fucking painful year and it’s now the third New Year’s Eve that I’ve spent crippled by depression, suicidal thoughts, and overwhelming fear and dread around the future. I’m pretty sure I’m in full autistic burnout and I feel like I’m living in a fog. Last year, I think I described my depression as a drought but, this year, I think the better metaphor is drowning: I feel like I’m drowning in this depression and I have so little energy left that staying afloat is feeling more and more impossible. I’m so tired. I’m tired of trying so hard, of feeling like I’m not trying hard enough; I’m tired of feeling this way, of feeling like things will never get better, like there’s no point in even trying to feel better because there’s nothing worth feeling better for. It just feels like there’s so much bad in the world, so much agony, that it isn’t a world I want to live in. I feel broken; I feel like a prime example of a defective human being. There have been good things, like I said, but it seems like they can never just be good things: there’s always so much bad or hard twisted up in them that enjoying them isn’t as straightforward as it sounds. I miss feeling safe. I miss feeling safe to feel things.
A big, hard part of this year has been that I started taking Phenelzine again, for the third time. I didn’t want to and I felt coerced by the circumstances to take it. I was so angry about it all that I made potentially my most dramatic, self destructive move so far: I cut my face and then, when it got infected, I was so reluctant to treat it that I’ve ended up with a fairly visible scar. The most confusing part of it was that, even though I didn’t want anyone to bring it up, I was surprised that no one did; it seemed like the kind of thing that would trigger some alarm. Just as I imagined voicing consistent suicidal would but no one’s really commented on that either. It only makes the experience more isolating and lonely. But back to the Phenelzine: while it helped me get out of bed and go out now and then, it hasn’t had the same impact that it’s previously had on my mood, even on the higher dose. And that means that I’ve officially run out of medication options. I’ve been going to therapy consistently, for the most part, but I feel like it’s getting harder and harder; there have been sessions where I’ve left feeling traumatised. We’ll be trying something different in the new year but I’m struggling to feel hopeful, but that’s not specific to just therapy.
I look at the collage I made for this year and although I remember each of these moments, I feel disconnected from them; the emotions feel dulled. A lot has happened, somewhat to my surprise…

I went to multiple small shows; I went to hydrotherapy religiously and started physiotherapy; I got adopted by a puppy and then had my heart broken when she was taken away; I went to Nashville for Tin Pan South; my application for an Autism Service Dog was successful; I released my single, ‘House on Fire,’ as well as creating all of the visuals for it; I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia; I went to art exhibitions (and even helped to build my favourite art piece, Breathing Room); I hung out with friends, online and in real life; I travelled to Germany for the wedding of one of my best friends and was reunited with multiple friends that I hadn’t seen in years; I got to hang out with some of my American friends when they performed here; I fought for Taylor Swift tickets; I had my heart broken again when the rescue puppy we applied for was homed with someone else; I went to some amazing concerts; I met Amanda Tapping again and she’s still one of the most wonderful people I’ve ever known; I started performing again; I read books and watched movies and TV shows that are now among my favourites; I adopted a puppy (which still doesn’t sound real to me); I swam 5km for Mind, raising over £600; I went to multiple Maisie Peters shows and got to meet her too; one of my cats got very sick and we had to nurse her back to health; my aunt died; I changed heart medications; and I worked on lots of different musical and academic work. I know all of these things happened; I remember them clearly but it’s like watching them play on a screen. I know these memories are mine but they don’t feel like mine. It’s weird and sad.
I’m so tired. I’m tired of masking but I don’t know how to stop. I feel broken – physically, mentally, and emotionally – but as hard as I try, it never feels like enough. Over ten years later, it should be getting better not worse, right?
I don’t know what else to say. Life feels increasingly scary, internally and externally, and I just feel too broken to manage. I don’t know how people walk around without all of the fear and grief and anxiety that I do, that I see as such an intrinsic part of being human. As I wrote last year, “I don’t know what tomorrow brings. I don’t know what I want it to. I didn’t want this year. I didn’t expect to still be here and I’m not happy or pleased or grateful for that. I feel pathetic and stupid and cowardly; I feel broken beyond repair. I feel frozen, overwhelmed by all of these big feelings. If feelings could kill you, I think these would have.“
Category: animals, anxiety, autism, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, death, depression, diagnosis, emotions, event, family, favourites, heds, hydrotherapy, medication, mental health, pots, self harm, suicide, therapy, treatment Tagged: 2023, actuallyautistic, amanda tapping, antidepressants, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic burnout, autistic singersongwriter, charity, dbt, depression, dialectical behaviour therapy, ehlers danlos syndrome, family, fibromyalgia, heds, hydrotherapy, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, maisie peters, maois, medication, mental health, mental illness, monoamine oxidase inhibitors, new year, new years eve, phenelzine, physiotherapy, radically open dialectical behaviour therapy, rodbt, self esteem, self harm, self injury, self loathing, singersongwriter, songwriter, suicidal ideation, suicidal thoughts, taylor swift, therapy, treatment resistant depression, trigger, trigger warning, year in review

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