Finding HopeMore Tips For Travelling As An Autistic Person
Posted on June 10, 2023
Back in 2018, I wrote a post about travelling as an autistic person and my personal tips for making it smoother and less stressful and anxiety-inducing. In that post, I included:
- Plan ahead
- Speak to a travel agent
- Choose your accommodation carefully
- Write a list of everything you’ll need and have someone check it
- Pack an emergency kit in your carry on baggage
- Bring your own food
- Prepare specifically for the flight
- Build in time out and don’t feel guilty for it
I still stand by all of these strategies but since then, having travelled more and gained more experience (apart from the lockdown and pandemic times – the latter of which we are arguably still in but obviously travel is now more possible for many, many people), I have more thoughts that I thought might be helpful to share.
FIND A GOOD TRAVEL AGENT – I wrote about talking to a travel agent last time but I wanted to share my personal experience with our travel agent, a guy we first met when we travelled to the US in 2016. Since then, we’ve booked every trip we’ve taken with his help – we go to him for everything – and developed a solid relationship. It really helps, I think, that he has a working knowledge and understanding of Autism so, even though he didn’t know me and my struggles personally, he picked up what I could and couldn’t handle very quickly, which has made things so much smoother than they might’ve been otherwise. He always goes above and beyond for us, something I would attribute to the working relationship we’ve built with him, and I so, so appreciate it.
TAKE INSPIRATION FROM YOUR MOST EXTREME NEEDS WHEN YOU PACK – It’s easy to optimistically assume that you’ll have a normal day every day you’re away but that’s not only unlikely because our minds and bodies don’t cooperate just because we want them to but also because the stress and anxiety of travelling and being in a new, unfamiliar place can do a number on us. I always find being away from home for more than a few days incredibly stressful, which can screw up my energy, my pain, my anxiety, my sensory issues… So packing with bad days in mind is probably a good idea; I’ve started carrying my heat pad (for pain), my joint supports (which I don’t always need but, of course, always seem to need when I’ve left them at home), a number of different fidget toys, medication for migraines (not a super common occurrence but debilitating when they do happen) and so on…
LEARN SOME BASIC PHRASES – If you’re planning to go somewhere where the language is different to that of your home country, it’s definitely worth learning at least a few common phrases. I know this is often considered to be common courtesy and I don’t disagree but when you have a lot of health stuff to deal with or get really overwhelmed in new environments, it’s not that simple; with all of your other preparations, it can just slip down the priority list and then off the list altogether. I recently went to Germany and between the ridiculously long hours trying to get everything done before I left and then the total overwhelm when I got there, I somehow didn’t clock that I didn’t speak any German until a couple of days in. How bizarre is that?! Then, of course, I panicked and did my best to speed learn words and phrases like, “Yes, please,” “No, thank you,” “English please,” “Excuse me,” and “I’m sorry.” Fortunately for me, German isn’t completely alien and the spellings and pronunciations – at least for the simple stuff – are relatively close, or at least they felt that way in my brain. So I picked those up easily, which was a relief. I think that having some language can really reduce your anxiety because you don’t feel so lost (and potentially helpless) and it makes moving around and engaging with where you are a little easier.
ASSISTANCE SERVICES AT THE AIRPORT – I’ve now done multiple trips through airports where we’ve arranged for the assistance services to help us out. So now I get wheeled (in a wheelchair or one of those electric buggies) from check out to not just the gate but down the gangplank to the actual plane. Because I struggle with standing and walking for extended periods of time, this has not only reduced both my pain and fatigue, it’s also reduced my anxiety about the time it takes and the recovery time I’ll need later. Apart from a few mix ups (uncommon but it has happened), they’ve been super efficient and very nice. I’ve found a couple of them to be a bit intimidating but I think that’s just because they’re utterly focussed on the job (and the next one and the next one); no one has ever been anything but polite and even funny. On my recent trip to Germany, one of the women was really, really nice and we had a good laugh despite the language hurdles to navigate. The one confusion that I’ve experienced is that, at some airports (and always in the US), they operate on a tip system but no one’s ever told us that one way or the other. Maybe it’s the straightforward, autistic approach to things but, to me, a service provided by the airport implies that the airport pays them for the work they’re doing but clearly not. So that did take me by surprise and I haven’t always been prepared for that, financially or emotionally.
IF YOU’RE TRAVELLING FOR A SPECIFIC EVENT, FAMILIARISE YOURSELF WITH WHERE YOU ARE AND WHERE YOU NEED TO BE – If you’re travelling for an event like a wedding or a birthday, it’s well worth doing things like checking out and practising the route (or routes you’ll have to travel) so that you know how to get where you’re going and how long it will take. You don’t want to be stressing about being late or getting lost on the important day itself. And if you have to let go of everything else just to make sure that you can attend and engage with the event you’re there for, then that’s what you need to do; it’s hard not to feel guilty or upset about not ‘taking advantage’ of the opportunities that travelling has presented you with but most likely, if you’ve travelled for a particular event, it’s really important to you and has to be your priority. Chances are that you’ll feel better for putting it first.
HYDRATE – If I have learned anything over the last few years, it is how important it is to stay hydrated. We all know this, of course – we’re told often enough that none of us are drinking enough water – but autistic individuals often struggle with it specifically due to problems with our interoception (plus, thirst signals are generally weaker than other internal signals, making them harder to recognise). Being dehydrated can make everything so much harder, causing headaches and exhaustion to name a few, and when you’re away in an unfamiliar place, that’s the last thing you want.
IF YOU HAVE TO GO HOME EARLY, THAT’S OKAY – Sometimes shit happens and plans have to change. And that has to be okay. Whether it’s your physical health, your mental health, something going on at home, sometimes you just have to figure out how to accept the need for change and go home. Sometimes it’s a case of choosing the ‘lesser of two evils’ – staying is hard but so is leaving – and making the choice that feels the most right, even if both of them feel wrong to a certain extent. I usually need some time to come to terms with what the right decision is but then, once I know what I need to do, I just have to figure out how to make it happen.
Friedrichshafen in Germany: Lake Constance (known as Bodensee in German) and some gorgeous flowers I saw. (x)
As always, I feel sure that I’ve missed some. But hopefully these will be somewhat helpful to somebody. If any of you guys have any tips you’d like to share, please stick them in the comments!
Behind The Scars
Posted on September 9, 2017
A little while ago, I discovered Sophie Mayanne’s Behind The Scars photography project. I was scrolling through Instagram, probably procrastinating, when I saw a photo of a young woman unashamedly showing off her scars. I was intrigued by the story behind that post – while I’ve never been actively told to hide my own scars, it often feels like I’m expected to cover them up. This is particularly true of self harm scars, I think. As I said, I’ve never had someone specifically tell me to hide them but I still feel that there is an expectation that I should, either because I should be ashamed of them or because they might upset people. I protest this and so does Behind The Scars. This ever-growing collection of photos allows people to show their scars and tell the stories behind them. I don’t think I can describe it better than Sophie herself does: “Behind The Scars is a celebration of beauty, of flaws, of battles won and obstacles overcome. It is about survival, living beyond that and capturing the memories. It is a truly honest depiction of how our history, shown through these scars, does not define us but compels us.”
I was instantly a fan and applied to take part. It took a bit of planning and rearranging but come the day of the shoot, I arrived with only a little anxiety. I’ve had photos taken before, for my music projects, but they’ve always been taken by people I already know. So I was a bit nervous about that. I had also been nervous about my difficulty with eye contact (thank you for that, ASD) but Sophie was very reassuring and put that fear to bed very quickly.
The shoot itself was a very positive experience and made much easier by the presence of a little dog, Carla. Animals always put me at ease (to the point where both my cat and my dog frequently accompany me to therapy sessions) so that was a lovely surprise and did make me feel less anxious. Anyway. I had expected to feel very self-conscious but I didn’t. In fact, I felt strangely in control and comfortable in my body and that is something I’m really grateful for, grateful to this project for. And even though I often get very anxious about not knowing how to do something, I didn’t feel that as strongly as I sometimes do: Sophie was great, telling me where to stand and what she wanted me to do. I never felt judged and if a particular pose felt unnatural, we were on to the next one straight away. And suddenly we were done.
The other part of the project involves writing a little bit about your scars or your experience of having scars. I thought a lot about what I wanted to say and eventually, I came up with this:
“I’ve struggled with self harm on and off for about eight years but it’s gotten worse as my mental health has worsened. The compulsion, for me, is two fold. Because of my Autism, I feel emotions really strongly and when it gets completely overwhelming, the only thing that helps is self harming, like all the emotions can escape. It’s like my version of a pressure valve. I also do it when something very upsetting happens, like I’m trying to represent that distress in a tangible way and show that it’s changed me. I think a lot of people don’t understand it and almost don’t want to because it’s a hard thing to think about but I think the only way to help someone who is self harming is to try and understand it. I didn’t talk about it for a long time because I didn’t have the words but then I realised how much it would’ve meant to my younger self to know that other people were struggling with the same things. So it’s time to find the words.”
My lasting impression of Behind the Scars, and of Sophie, is sincerity, and personally, I can’t give it higher praise than that. It’s been a couple of weeks now since the shoot and I love the photos. They look like me. I know that sounds odd, but how many photos have you seen of yourself that just don’t look like you? But these do. These photos look like me.
“If these images help us to think differently about scarring, and for those that “wear” these scars, to look differently at not only the imperfections, but the individuality these marks might engender, then for me, I would deem the project a success.” – Sophie Mayanne
A massive thank you to Sophie for taking these photos and for the Behind the Scars project as a whole. You can see more of the photos from the project here and here and, if you’d like to help her get Behind the Scars to New York, you can find the Kickstarter here.
Disability Pride in Brighton
Posted on August 21, 2017
On Sunday 9th July 2017, I woke up feeling very nervous. It was the day of Disability Pride in Brighton, the first event of its kind in the UK, and I was performing on the main stage just after two o’clock. Of course, I was really excited: it was going to be a great event, one I was really proud to be a part of. But my anxiety was very high. Other than the fact that I hadn’t played live for a while (finishing my degree has taken up all of my time), I felt anxious about whether I deserved to be there.
My presentation of Autism isn’t very obvious. I’ve been told many times that I don’t ‘look Autistic’ (a phrase that needs a whole post to itself) and I’ve always struggled with where I fit under the label of ‘disabled’. The legal definition is “a physical or mental impairment that has a ‘substantial’ and ‘long-term’ negative effect on your ability to do normal daily activities” (according to the Equality Act 2010 if you want the source of that). So, yes, I am disabled but it’s very much an invisible disability and multiple experiences of that being questioned has made me very nervous of associating myself with the word. But I’d applied and been chosen to play so I tried to trust that.
Everyone was so nice, right from the moment I arrived. I met the stage manager, AJ, who was lovely and got ready to go on stage; I was starting to get back that excitement that I get from performing. But then my capo broke. For those of you not familiar with guitars, the capo is the little gadget you can put on the neck of the guitar to make it easier to play in different keys. It literally sprang apart in my hand. Not good. I needed it for every song (I usually have a spare but since I’d bought this one a week ago, I hadn’t worried about packing one). Half of my brain was desperately searching my repertoire for songs that didn’t need a capo and the other half was trying to figure out where on earth I could find another one. No one else seemed to have one so my parents (major shout out to them) ran off to the two guitar shops close by. I felt like I should be panicking but I was strangely calm.
Somehow a capo was found and then I was on. I’d originally had time for four songs but that had to be cut down because of the capo problems. But I didn’t mind. The atmosphere was so nice, so friendly, that I just wanted to get out there and play.
I’d agonized over what songs to play. I write a lot of songs about my experiences with mental health – it helps me process them, helps me make sense of it all – but I didn’t want to upset or trigger anyone. On the other hand, I wondered whether it was a good place to play them, somewhere where people might relate to them. In the end, I decided to play two of those songs with two more upbeat, positive ones. But with the stress of finding another capo, all coherent thinking disappeared from my brain and I was playing a song before I’d even decided to play it. Oh well. That first song was called ‘Bad Night’, about a particularly bad night where I couldn’t imagine how I would ever feel better. The second song I played was called ‘Invisible’, a really important song for me because it’s such an honest account of asking for help with my mental health and being repeatedly turned away. As I introduced it and told the story behind it, I could see people nodding and that actually made me well up a bit. Writing it was so hard that I hadn’t really thought about what kind of reaction it would get and so, to have people connect to it, connect to something that was so personal, it kind of blows my mind.
I’d hoped to play another song, to end my little set on a more upbeat note, but there wasn’t time. That was a shame but I was so happy to have played at all. All my anxiety had disappeared and I remembered exactly why I love performing so much. And I have never played to such a friendly, supportive crowd. It felt safe to sing those songs about difficult things and it felt safe to be exactly who I am. I hadn’t expected that and even though it’s now several weeks later, that feeling still almost brings me to tears. I don’t often feel safe outside my home but I did feel safe there.
It didn’t hit me until later but my favourite moment of the event (apart from the adorable little girl who stood right at the front, watched both my songs, and waved at me afterwards) was something someone in the audience called out between my songs. With all the stress beforehand, I hadn’t checked the height of the microphone stand and so I discovered during the first song that it wasn’t high enough. I made a joke about that as I adjusted it, about being too tall for the microphone, and someone from the audience called out, “the microphone’s too short for you!” It’s simple but it meant a lot to me. I often automatically put myself in the wrong, assume that I am too much or too little of something rather than looking at the situation for what it is. Here, it was simply a case of adjusting the microphone stand to match my height and it’s a little ridiculous to put all of that on myself, to let it reinforce a negative view of myself. I mean, it’s a microphone stand! But it shows how easy it is to get into a pattern of always seeing yourself as ‘wrong’, even when there isn’t a right or wrong.
Of course this isn’t always the case, but it was a good little reminder to be aware of my thought processes and be aware of what I’m telling myself. (I think it’s pretty easy to pick up that way of thinking when it comes to a disability or mental health problem, because you’re often different from the norm and you end up adjusting to fit into that. So it’s easy to feel ‘wrong’, simply because it’s not the same as everyone else. At least, I feel that way.) It’s often hard to remember that different isn’t wrong, especially when the way everyone else does things is praised as the ‘right’ way or the ‘best’ way. I regularly have to remind myself of that.
Anyway, I had a really great time at Disability Pride and I was so grateful to play. It really was one of the loveliest, most supportive crowds I’ve ever played for. I wish I could’ve stayed longer and explored more but my physical health hasn’t been great lately and even that little amount of time had completely exhausted me. But the little bit I got to see was incredible and I am so, so proud to have been part of the event, even in the smallest way. I really hope that this event can become an annual one. Thank you to everyone involved – you are all complete stars!
Finding Hope 