Posted on April 17, 2023
TW: Mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, and a school shooting.
I’m still trying to pull together a post about my mental health before I went to Nashville. I was really, really struggling and even though I was still agonising over taking the Phenelzine again, it was this trip that pushed me to do it; I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t. But I was still struggling with what felt like surrender, like failure, when we left; I was still very depressed and having suicidal thoughts, not even two full weeks in; and I was fighting some pretty intense side effects from the meds throughout the whole trip. It was not an easy time.
GETTING TO NASHVILLE
The travel is usually somewhere between exhausting and a complete nightmare; I think many, many disabled people would say the same thing about travel, especially transatlantic travel. This year, it was hard for all of the reasons that it’s usually hard – I find airports stressful, I’m not a fan of flying, I find the whole experience uncomfortable and actually painful depending on the length of the trip, and so on – but it actually wasn’t terrible. For the first time, I was able to get a direct flight from Heathrow to Nashville and that made such a difference; I’ve always found the changeover and everything that that entails to be a particularly exhausting element of the trip. I didn’t sleep but then the eight hour flight was – the complicatedness of crossing timezones aside – during the day; I even managed to get some work done on the flight, something that I always plan but never achieve. And having the Meet and Assist service at the airports was, as always, a great help, making the whole thing easier, quicker, and less stressful. So it was definitely better than expected.
Unfortunately, I had the worst jet lag I’ve probably ever had going to Nashville. Usually I’m over it in a few days but I was struggling to sleep, waking up at all hours, constantly falling asleep on the sofa, and fighting exhaustion until about the last day. So that was frustrating and made some days more of a struggle than others but fortunately I was able to manage well enough that it didn’t ruin the trip.
THE COVENANT SCHOOL SHOOTING
We weren’t even halfway through our first full day in Nashville when the news of The Covenant School shooting broke.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what to write for this section because, honestly, I’m still processing how I feel about it; it’s been a very overwhelming thing to be even tangentially a part of because things like this just don’t happen at home. At home, you obviously hear about the mass shootings in America and you do stop and think all of the same things – “it’s a tragedy” and “no one should be able to buy automatic weapons” and “how do these awful things keep happening?” – but it’s so, so different to be there when it happens. And not just in America but a neighbourhood or so over from where it happened. (Not to mention that I know people who live around there; I didn’t know if their kids went to that school or whether they had family there.) It was very distressing and I couldn’t help feeling just overwhelmingly hopeless because more people are dead – more children are dead – and nothing will change. I didn’t know what to do with myself and all of my feelings; here were all of these lives being changed forever and I could feel my life being rocked by that. I was really shaken.
The festival hadn’t started yet but the two shows that I had tickets to that night were cancelled and I know that many others were too. I didn’t know what the right thing would’ve been and I didn’t know how I felt about any of it so I was kind of glad that the decision was taken away from me. That night, I ended up staying home and just feeling my feelings before I had to go out and face the world all day everyday for the next week and a half.
The festival itself went ahead, although it seemed that there had been some serious thought about whether or not to cancel at the very least the shows at the beginning of the week. I think that, ultimately, the consensus they came to was that music is a great healer and a great uniter of people and that, of the two options, going ahead was the right choice. Initially, the mood was heavy and somber and everyone performing had clearly thought very seriously about what they were going to play, what energy a song would be putting into the room and how it would impact everyone listening. The shows didn’t suffer for it though, the performances sincere and heartfelt. The mood did lighten somewhat as the week went on but the shooting was clearly still present in everyone’s minds, reflected in their song choices and in the heart they put into their performances. There were some cancellations which was a shame but obviously completely understandable; there was no ill will from anyone.
It was scary, being reminded that anyone could be carrying a gun, and so deeply sad that I’ve only just started to really process it, only just been able to pull the time together to do so. Having said that, it was really quite heartening to hear so many people – in Tennessee, a deeply red state – rage against gun ownership and criticise the country’s approach to gun control, including some who I would’ve assumed felt differently. I know that tragedies like these, especially in communities like Nashville, impassion people but I’m not sure if that would be possible if people were firmly at the other end of the scale.
I’m sure there’s more I could say but, as I said, I’m still working through it all. It’s a lot to process.
TIN PAN SOUTH
Over the years, my motivations behind choosing Tin Pan South rounds have changed. Sometimes I want to see my heroes and want to be inspired; sometimes I want to find new, exciting writers; sometimes I want to see friends who are playing; sometimes there’s a networking aspect; sometimes I want to see writers who’ve been recommended; sometimes it’s a mix. After everything this last year and the stress associated with the trip (and the Phenelzine), I’ve really struggled with music: my love of it, my trust in it. So, this year, I just wanted to go and see people that I knew would put on amazing shows; I wanted to be reminded of how much I love music and how much it means to me. So those were the shows I chose, the ones with people who I knew would blow me away to aid that. And they did.
It was a really, really great year; there were so many amazing people with so many awesome songs, all with interesting and inspiring stories. Listing everyone would take forever so here are a select few that really blew me away, that really made the festival for me…
Honourable mentions to Kassi Ashton, Barry Dean, Nicolle Galyon, Bethany Joy Lenz (she is just a born performer), Jeff Cohen, Ben Earle, Jenn Bostic (what an incredible voice she has), Phil Barton, and Jeffrey Steele. I mentioned many of these in my Nashville Playlist (2023) post.
It was a really amazing year with so many amazing people. I don’t think I can choose a favourite round but my two favourite were the Madeline Edwards round and the round with Michael Logen, Bethany Joy Lenz, Jeff Cohen, Jenn Bostic, and Ben Earle. Those two rounds were just off the freaking charts. All of the rounds were good (even the ‘less good’ ones were still really good – it’s just that the bar for ‘good’ was so incredibly high) but those two were some of the best I’ve ever been to.
TORNADO WARNING
On the Friday night, there was a tornado warning; some of the venues cancelled their shows and the tutors warned us to be home early. None of the locals I spoke to were worried (and neither was I to be honest, having been in town for multiple warnings over the years, all of which came to nothing) but I understand why the tutors were being cautious; even though we’re adults, they do feel some degree of responsibility over us and more so, I think, in potentially dangerous situations that we have no experience of at home, like tornado warnings. So we were encouraged to go home and stay there but those of us who were feeling brave (or just not worried) ended up hanging out together at one of the group’s Airbnbs, having a chill little party. Calling it a party is probably a bit generous given that we just sat in the courtyard in the pre-storm heat, talking shit and having a good time, but it was so nice: at the beginning of the week I’d known one person and there I was, hanging out with a group I was only just getting to know, having a really nice time and just feeling so normal. That was kind of amazing because I never feel normal; I cannot remember the last time I felt normal. So not only was it good fun but that made it yet another special experience in a very special week. Phenelzine was definitely a big part of making that happen but there’s something special about Nashville that has always made things possible for me that I’d never imagined would be.
Even though I wasn’t seriously worried about a tornado, I did keep an eye on the weather and ended up leaving a bit earlier than I otherwise might’ve because things did start to get a bit wild – wind and rain and the air was only getting heavier. I’d been invited to stay but my Airbnb was only a few minutes away so I said my goodbyes and zipped home. Before going inside though, I stood out in the wild weather. It wasn’t any worse than the storms we occasionally get at home and I love storms: there’s something about them that makes me feel so alive, like everything is heightened, like every atom in my body is in tune with the storm. It kind of makes me feel like I have superpowers, like I could control the weather myself; I love it.
So it was actually a really good end to the day and apart from some pretty strong winds and heavy rain, we were all no worse for wear in the morning.
SONG SUFFRAGETTES 9TH ANNIVERSARY SHOW
Song Suffragettes is one of my favourite parts about going to Nashville and getting to go to an anniversary show only makes it more special. They play two shorter rounds instead of the usual longer one, plus they honour an incredible female songwriter with the Song Suffragettes Yellow Rose of Inspiration Award; she gets interviewed by another very cool female songwriter. This year Natalie Hemby (yay!) was being honoured, interviewed by Maggie Rose, so it was a very special show to be at.
The first round was Morgan Johnston, Valerie Ponzio, Carter Faith, Robyn Ottolini, and Shelly Fairchild with Grace Bowers on guitar (she was an incredible, incredible guitarist and that’t not even taking into account how young she is), plus Mia Morris on percussion plus a song of her own. They were all great and I’d seen both Carter and Robyn before when they came to London on the Song Suffragettes tour last year. So it was cool to have some familiar faces and some brand new ones. I wrote about several of the songs played in my Nashville Playlist (2023) post but I want to include my favourites here too. I love Carter’s ‘Leaving Tennesse.’ It’s so gentle and comforting to listen to, simple and sweet but so heartfelt. I wrote in my earlier post that I think the reason it resonates with me so strongly is that, while I’ll likely never be able to live in Nashville – for multiple reasons that aren’t worth getting into here – it does feel like a part of me stays in Nashville every time I go home, a part that I reunite with every time I return. So, in a way, I don’t ever leave Nashville, don’t ever leave Tennessee. I also loved Robyn’s ‘Heart Less’ and I loved the twist in the chorus lyric; it was beautiful and I hope she releases it.
The second round was made up of Jessica Willis Fisher, Carmen Dianne, Haley Mae Campbell, Gina Venier, and Victoria Banks, with Mia on percussion and with her own song on the round. I’ve heard her song, ‘No One Cares,’ but it honestly never gets less funny; it’s so snarky and sarcastic and fun and her ability to play with rhythm, both in her melodies and her instrumentation, is amazing. My two favourites songs of the night are a tie between ‘Giving Up’ by Carmen Dianne and ‘Nora Jane’ by Gina Venier. Carmen was playing bass, which was really cool (the musicianship of this show was the most impressive I’ve ever seen from Song Suffragettes – it was amazing), and her vocals were fantastic. Her song, ‘Giving Up,’ had some really strong parallels to a painful experience I’ve been in but it was really empowering, with compelling lyrics and a bold, rebellious melody; I’m obsessed with it. My other favourite was ‘Nora Jane’ by Gina Venier, a song about the fear of coming out to her family that ends with her family accepting her and her girlfriend fully. It’s a beautifully written song and a story that is still incredibly uncommon in country music; I can see why so many people feel validated by hearing her story and why they feel like she’s telling their story too. I can only imagine how much bravery it took to write and perform this song – with America, the South, Tennessee, ‘Christian Values,’ and so on being the way they are – and so it felt like a real honour to be trusted with her story, with her opening up and being vulnerable.
Then Maggie and Natalie and came out to rapturous applause. Maggie asked a lot of really interesting questions, which Natalie answered, her usual dry, irreverent self; as always, she was full of funny stories, like writing for A Star is Born and a room full of highly successful, highly thought of songwriters all passing on what became ‘Shallow.’ I’ve always loved Natalie for her openness and her sincerity, even though she’s full of jokes and sly humour, and I love that while she is confident in her abilities, there’s no ego: she’ll talk to you and engage with you, especially about songwriting regardless of how ‘good’ you are – you don’t need to be the next whoever to be worthy of her attention. She’s just a lovely, genuine human being – how could you not love her?
After the interview, she played three songs. The first was a new song that was really beautiful. The second was ‘Rainbow,’ which Kacey Musgraves released (the two of them wrote it several years back with Shane McAnally). She’d just played it at the funeral of one of the girls killed in The Covenant School shooting; it was apparently her favourite song. I think, as a song, it’s always meant a lot to her and that has only grown over the years as people have attached their own stories to it. And the third and final song she played was ‘Crowded Table,’ which she wrote with Lori McKenna and Brandi Carlile for her group project with Brandi Carlile, Maren Morris, and Amanda Shires. She started to play it but then changed her mind, unplugged her guitar, and started the song again, climbing down from the stage and walking through the audience as she played. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone do that and apparently no one has ever done it at The Listening Room. It was a very sweet, special moment, perfect for the last performance of the trip.
When the show was over, I got to catch up a little with the people I know from Song Suffragettes and I finally got to see Natalie, the two of us not having being able to catch up while I’d been there. We were both just so happy to see each other and it was a really lovely moment. It would’ve been nice to have a bit longer to catch up properly but I’m not complaining; it’s such a long way and a long time between visits that I’m always delighted to see her at all.
OTHER THINGS
GETTING HOME
Despite all of my negative emotions leading up to the trip, I found leaving to be very, very hard, even if I was looking forward to seeing my cats and sleeping in my own bed again. There had been so many magical moments and, for the first time in so, so long, moments of actual joy; I didn’t want to go home, go back to the real world, and lose those. So, yeah, it was just hard.
The Meet and Assist service made the airport experience much easier, as I said earlier and the flight was fine, if quite a bit bumpier than on the way out. We flew direct through the night and luckily, the flight wasn’t full and I managed to lie down with a full row to myself. It still wasn’t hugely comfortable and the sleep I got was more like a series of light naps but it was definitely better than I would’ve gotten had I been sitting up in a single chair. Having said that, being in that one position with my legs bent for so long meant that I almost couldn’t get up when we landed; I’ve never needed the airport wheelchair so much. We had some problems getting a coach back but then finally – finally – we were home. I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to walk through my own front door (yes, I’m aware of how conflicted my feelings were and are).
I had hoped to go out in the evening – I thought it might actually help stave off the jet lag – but I was asleep within about ten minutes of sitting down on the sofa, where I slept on and off for the rest of the afternoon and evening, despite Mum’s attempts to wake me up. The thought that I’d ever have made it out to London (and back) was laughable by the time I dragged myself up for some food. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open; I was just so unbelievably tired. The nap completely screwed up my sleep schedule (which still hasn’t completely recovered) but the next morning, we retrieved the cats from the cattery, which was wonderful for me even if they were more interested in re-establishing their claim on the garden. I’d missed them desperately so I was delighted to have them around again (and I think they were actually quite pleased to have us back too since they’ve all spent most of the days since in whatever rooms we’re in).
CONCLUDING THOUGHTS
Even though I’ve been back for a couple of weeks, I still feel more than a bit floored by the whole trip. There were obviously the awful parts, like the school shooting, and the big uncertainties, like the tornado warning; I was struggling with my mental health and with the side effects of the Phenelzine and with all of the anxieties that always come with this trip, like plans changing at the last minute and adjusting to the way Nashville does everything compared to how we do them at home; there was the absolute exhaustion of doing so much after having been so flattened by my depression. The bad was bad – and scary and upsetting and overwhelming – but the good was so incredibly good. I got to see and spend time with people that I love; I got to meet and make friends with new, fun people; I got to hear some amazing music; I got to do some cool things that I don’t get to do at home; I got to feel normal; I got to feel joy for the first time in longer than I can remember. The spectrum of emotion was overwhelming and I’m still processing most of it and what it all means to me but I do know that I’m grateful that I got to be there; I will hold onto the memories forever.
This post turned out to be much longer than I intended it to be; I guess I didn’t realise how many thoughts and feelings I had about the different parts of the trip (and there are even more in my diaries!) until I started trying to sum it all up. But this was a really special experience. I couldn’t not write about it, not after everything it gave me.
Category: anxiety, autism, chronic pain, depression, emotions, event, favourites, food, heds, medication, mental health, music, sleep, special interests, suicide, university, video, writing Tagged: accessibility, airport, america, anxiety, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, cassidy daniels, depression, disabled accommodation, flying, friends, jet lag, lori mckenna, madeline edwards, medication, michael logen, nashville, nashville songwriters association international, nashville tennessee, natalie hemby, nsai, pancake pantry, phenelzine, school shooting, seth ennis, side effects, singersongwriter, skip black, song suffragettes, song suffragettes yellow rose of inspiration award, songwriter, songwriters festival, songwriting, tennessee, the candle bar, the covenant school shooting, tin pan south, tin pan south 2023, tin pan south songwriters festival, tornado warning, travel, trigger, trigger warning, tw, university, usa
Posted on December 24, 2022
TW: Mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts.
I think it’s safe to say that this has been the worst year of my life. I’ve been so depressed and suicidal and that has just swallowed up the whole year. And feeling like that, it’s hard to access gratitude, even when you know that there are things to be grateful for. So I’m trying, according to my yearly tradition, to focus on the things that I know I’m grateful for, even if I can’t always feel it properly.
My Mum – What can I say, my Mum is amazing. So much of this year has been so awful and she’s been with me through all of it; she’s never given up, even when I kind of wish she would. She has been my champion. She’s the best and I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve her.
My family – I’m not sure what more I can say about my family, about how great they are. I have not been easy and my issues have taken up a lot of energy and yet, they have been there for me, supporting me in whatever way I needed at the time without judgement. There are so many different things I could write about, moments I could mention, but the most important thing to say is that I love them, more than I could possibly express.
The friends who’ve supported me – I am grateful for all of my friends but I wanted to give a special shout out to the friends who’ve been especially supportive over this last year. I’ve felt very alone and when friends reached out to me, it meant (and means) a lot. They didn’t necessarily do anything (although a few friends gave me gifts this year that I feel utterly undeserving of but am deeply grateful for nonetheless) but they sat with me in it, whether that meant actually talking about it all or watching TV together.
New friends – Despite the fact that I haven’t been out much this year, I have actually made some new friends this year, which has been nice. The pandemic hasn’t exactly been conducive to meeting new people and neither has my depression but the new friends that I have made, especially the ones that I have some quite heavy stuff in common with, have been a gift.
The connections that survived the pandemic – There were friends and acquaintances that I didn’t see for a long time because of the pandemic, several of those in Nashville for example, that I worried wouldn’t be the same after so long. Part of that is just my relentless anxiety that maybe no one actually likes me but part of that is also that everyone has a life, has their own stuff, and went through a trauma with the pandemic; I wasn’t sure if some of my relationships would survive all of that and I wouldn’t have held it against them if they hadn’t. But to my surprise and delight, many of these connections did survive the pandemic and even managed to grow over the year.
The cats – I don’t know what I’d do without my gorgeous cats; I really don’t. They’re adorable, they’re snuggly, they’re funny, they’re comforting… The list goes on. I feel very lucky to have them; there’s always one around to cuddle up with or make me smile. Lucy ushers me to bed when I stay up too late and keeps watch until she’s sure I won’t get up again. Tiger headbutts me until I stroke her and then she purrs like I’ve bestowed the greatest honour upon her. Mouse is slowly becoming more affectionate, having always been less sociable than her mother and her sibling, and has started seeking us out for strokes and cuddles. Sooty gets obviously impatient if I don’t make space for her on the sofa and then instantly settles down, stretched out and pressed up against me. Sweep appears and flops dramatically on top of her mother, like they’ve been separated for weeks (and, bless her, still struggles with the cat flap occasionally despite it having been there her whole life). They’re all the sweetest of little souls and I love them dearly.

Finding a private pool for hydrotherapy – It took many months and several attempts but we finally found a private pool that was a good fit for me to do my hydrotherapy exercises. Many of the preceding ‘failures’ didn’t allow me to do certain exercises or required travelling a fairly significant distance, so I am very pleased to have found such a gorgeous pool that has everything I need almost on my doorstep (plus the owners are lovely and their passion for decorating the pool for each holiday always makes me smile). When my routine is running smoothly, I manage to get there three times a week, which is great; sometimes it’s less than that but such is life. I’m doing my best here.

The fictional worlds I can escape into – One of my main coping mechanisms this year has been watching TV shows, old favourites mostly, and reading fanfiction and escaping into those familiar, comforting worlds. They’ve been both an escape and a relaxation technique. They give my thoughts somewhere safe to go when everything else, inside my brain and out in the world, doesn’t feel safe, when all of that stuff feels like a terrifying minefield. I’m grateful to have these worlds to lose myself in, even if only for a while.
When I feel like this, like I’m drowning in my depression with these near constant suicidal thoughts, things to be grateful for feel like a double edged sword. Sometimes they’re things that make me feel like I can keep hanging on, even if just for a little bit longer, and sometimes they feel like weights tied to my ankles, keeping me here when I desperately don’t want to be and I have to admit I resent them for that. So it’s anything but simple. It’s good and bad and hard and confusing; I can feel differently, ten different times in a day sometimes. But these are the objectively good things in my life and I can recognise that. I wanted to honour them for that.
Category: about me, animals, depression, exercise, family, favourites, mental health, suicide Tagged: 2022, animals, cats, depression, escapism, family, friends, grateful, gratitude, hydrotherapy, mother, mum, pets, suicidal, suicidal thoughts, swimming
Posted on May 14, 2022
I have to admit that I often struggle with Mental Health Awareness Week, particularly the flooding of social media with “it’s okay not to be okay” and “reach out to someone if you need help”; it makes me want to scream in frustration because we are so far past that. If we’re going to create better support for mental health, we need more than that. This year, the theme is loneliness, which is an apt one, two years and change into this pandemic. I’m certainly seeing a lot of loneliness around at the moment: those with mental health issues, disabled individuals, people who are still shielding and feeling abandoned by society because of the dropped mandates… I can’t imagine what it’s like to be in or from Ukraine right now…
All of these situations need to be talked about and since the Mental Health Foundation is encouraging everyone to share their experiences with loneliness for Mental Health Awareness Week, I thought I’d write about my experience, as a disabled person with mental health issues.
This is something I find kind of hard to talk about. I guess talking about it – and writing about it – makes me feel a little guilty because I’m not alone. I know I’m not alone. I have a great family and some really wonderful friends who have been there for me through some really tough stuff. They try so hard to make sure that I don’t feel alone. Fortunately, we – as people – don’t need to understand each other’s experiences point for point to find friendship and create those important, supportive bonds: I have a friend who has experienced very different trauma to me but there have been a lot of similarities throughout both of our journeys that have made it possible for us to relate to each other. I’m grateful for that, more than I can say.
But it’s also true that I do, often and increasingly, feel alone, feel lonely. And I think that that’s because no one – no one I’ve found at least – really understands what it’s like to be in my head, in my body, in my life, dealing with the problems that I have and the ripple effect that they can create. I’ve had multiple doctors and medical services simply stop helping me (or refuse to help me at all) because my case is “too complicated.” These are the professionals – the people who are supposed to really know and understand this stuff – and even they don’t know what to do with me (and those abandonments, plus other abandonments in my life, have left me with a lot of issues and fears that I have to work on every day). I think the issue is compounded by the fact that I have multiple diagnoses so, even though I may fit into the autistic community, I still don’t feel like I fit in because I also have OCD and BPD and so on; I can’t imagine there are many people who fit into the same community as me when the criteria is so narrow. I’m also not entirely convinced by the idea of community based on diagnosis either, to be honest, especially when the diagnosis covers such a range of symptoms, behaviours, and experiences, like Autism Spectrum Disorder. Anyway, my point is that I don’t feel like I fit in, even with the people that, on paper, I would likely get along with.
As I said, I’m not alone. Even though I’ve never felt like I quite fitted in, I have some great friends and friends from all areas of my life: school, sixth form, uni, Masters, as well as stuff outside education… But I can’t always keep up with my friends, with my peers, and I can’t always do the things I wish I could and I find that so hard. I always end up feeling like there’s a gap between me and everyone else and it’s lonely. Not being able to physically keep up with those around me means that I often feel left out – even if that’s nobody’s intention. And there’s a level of embarrassment and shame about being the one who can never keep up, the one who is always asking people to wait, always having to double check or change or cancel plans. I don’t know where that comes from – I know my friends would never want me to feel like that. But still, it’s there. It widens the gap and it makes that loneliness worse.
The older I get, the more I notice it – the gap. While I spend my time trying different medications, going to appointments for my physical and mental health, and resting after doing what I can manage to do, a lot of my friends are pursuing PhDs, establishing careers, living independently, and building lasting relationships. Our life experiences are just so different. And the longer it goes on, the bigger the disconnect feels. It just feels like the future is full of loneliness and I don’t know what to do with that.
I know this is kind of a depressing post. It’s a depressing truth, although it might have come out differently if I weren’t coming off my antidepressants; if I were in a better place mentally, I might have a more hopeful outlook. I don’t know.
I don’t think it’s a bad theme – loneliness can have a devastating impact on a person’s mental health – but the Mental Health Foundation’s website says that they want to “shatter the stigma around loneliness” and while I can’t say that there’s no stigma associated with loneliness, I can think of so many things that might have more impact as a theme, might make more of a difference, like access to mental health support or the impact of social media or… I don’t know, something more specific than loneliness or nature (last year’s theme). (I talked about this more in my Mass Observation Day post.) As I said at the beginning of this post, I find Mental Health Awareness Week difficult because I so often feel like the information being circulated is somewhat obvious, that we could – and should – be going deeper. I guess it all just feels a bit surface level but I don’t know how that changes, if anyone else even feels this way. It just doesn’t feel like enough. It’s one week a year and it doesn’t feel like enough.
Category: about me, autism, bpd, chronic fatigue, chronic pain, covid-19 pandemic, depression, emotions, family, heds, medication, mental health, therapy, treatment Tagged: abandonment, ableism, adhd, adhd inattentive type, asd, attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, borderline personality disorder, bpd, depressed, depression, disability, disabled, family, fear of abandonment, friends, isolated, isolation, ivebeenthere, life, loneliness, lonely, medical services, medical trauma, medication, mental health, mental health awareness, mental health awareness week, mental health awareness week 2022, mentalhealthawarenessweek, milestones, multiple diagnoses, nhs, obsessive compulsive disorder, ocd, pandemic, pandemic 2020, quiet borderline, quiet borderline personality disorder, the mental health foundation, trauma

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