Posted on May 9, 2026
TW: non-graphic descriptions of hair pulling, Trichotillomania, and self injury/self harm and photographs of being tattooed.
When I was diagnosed as autistic, I did a lot of research and reading to try and make sense of my life through this new lens and one of the things that I struggled with was stimming. Short for ‘self-stimulating behaviour,’ stimming is behaviour – commonly repetitive movements and sounds – that we all use to self-regulate and self-soothe. Everybody does it to a certain degree but many neurodivergent individuals struggle with self regulating and so we stim more – and more noticeably – to compensate. It helps us to manage our emotions, anxiety and uncertainty and stress, sensory information, and helps us to express joy. I found it difficult to identify these behaviours in myself but over time, and especially over the last couple of years in therapy,* I’ve come to realise that there are many things that I do that play a big part in my attempts to stay somewhat regulated but because many of them have often served another purpose, I haven’t recognised what else they’ve been doing for me. Some of them are great and fun, some of them are harmful and I need help with, and some function only as a way to process what I’m feeling or what’s going on in my body but all of them help me to regulate myself and get through the day.
*I quit talk therapy in 2024 and dug into different modalities, eventually landing on Somatic Massage Therapy for trauma release and truly, I cannot articulate how much it has helped me. The years in talk therapy weren’t wasted (mostly) but this is a totally different level of processing and healing and growing. I was so checked out from my body and how it was processing emotion – as a survival mechanism – and the process of reconnecting to it has really unleashed some of my stimming, particularly swaying, swinging my arms, and flapping, in a really freeing way.
Singing – Up until recently, I probably wouldn’t have considered singing a stim but given how regulating I find it, I think there are certainly situations where I would consider it stimming. I find the physical sensations of singing so calming and it relaxes me both emotionally and physically but that makes a lot of sense since so many parts of singing are connected to self regulation: the breath control, the way you hold your body, the releasing of emotion, the complete focus (on the sound you’re trying to create, in this case)… I will never not be obsessed with the fact that my body is an instrument, that it can make music. It absolutely fascinates me and I get such intense joy from operating my body to produce the sound I want to create. It may be the only way I feel truly connected to my body, something that I have historically struggled with, so it doesn’t surprise me that it creates such a physical sense of joy every time I sing. I’m always finding new songs that I love to sing but some of my long time favourites include ‘California’ by Kina Grannis, ‘She Used To Be Mine’ and ‘Little Voice’ by Sara Bareilles, ‘Radio Silence’ by Natalie Hemby, and ‘Unsteady’ by X Ambassadors.
Category: adhd, animals, anxiety, autism, emotions, exercise, favourites, food, hydrotherapy, music, self harm, therapy, trichotillomania Tagged: actuallyautistic, art installation, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, chocolate, echolalia, fidget toy, fidget toys, flapping, getting tattooed, hair pulling, high masking, immersive art, imposter syndrome, masking, neurodivergent, red bull, self harm, self injury, sensory seeking, singing, somatic therapy, stimming, swimming, tattoo, taylor tomlinson, texture, therapy, trauma release massage, trichotillomania, unmasking, visual stimming, vocal stimming
Posted on October 9, 2021
One of the big things I’ve missed during the pandemic is concerts. They’ve always been a big part of every year and losing that – I haven’t been to a concert since Halsey’s Manic Tour in March 2020 – has been really hard. But it’s also hard to feel like they’re safe to go to, now that they’re happening again. I still have a lot of anxiety about going out and about being around a lot of people – it’s not as if COVID is no longer a risk – so going to a concert is a big deal. But normal life does have to resume at some point, even if it happens in baby steps. Since this first show – The Shires in Bromley – was a relatively small concert, it felt like a good one to try, to get the lay of the land in terms of safety precautions, to see how I feel in that sort of environment after everything that’s happened over the last eighteen months, and so on.
This wasn’t quite my first live music event: back in September, I went to my uni’s Songwriters’ Circle, the first one in person since before the pandemic. It was just wonderful. Everyone was so excited to be back together, so excited to get to hang out together, singing along at the top of our lungs. That is one of my favourite things about going to a music uni: everyone’s always up for a sing along.
But this doesn’t feel like a first concert to me, since I’ve been in and out of the building for the last couple of months as I finished my final Masters project. It was just some more people and music. Plus, I’m really comfortable with the safety precautions there: negative COVID tests to get in, a one way system around the building, lots of people still wearing masks even though they aren’t mandatory, and so on. I already feel safe there. But a concert is an entirely new ball game.
My first proper concert was The Shires at the Churchill Theatre in Bromley on the 5th October. It wasn’t a venue I’d been to before and road closures made getting there quite stressful, plus it was a pretty bad pain day: my back, my shoulder, and my wrists and hands. So while I knew I would enjoy the show itself, I wasn’t sure whether the stress and the pain would override that. Fortunately getting in was quick and easy and I didn’t have to spend too long on my feet. And although no one had to wear a mask once seated, negative COVID tests were required for entry so it felt as safe as it can, as anything can be at the moment.
Jake Morrell was the support act and he was great: he was funny and personable and had some good songs. My favourite was ‘This House,’ I think. And I liked ‘Freewheeling.’ I definitely want to check out more of his music.
And then The Shires – Ben and Crissie and some of their band – were on. It was so nice to see them; I’ve seen them so many times over the years and the eighteen months since the pandemic began may be the longest I’ve gone without seeing them. So, as I said in my Instagram post, it felt quite apt that my first proper concert back was them. It was a cool twist on their normal shows: it was all acoustic (being in the front row, it did feel a bit like my own personal concert) and they took the opportunity to play a lot of the songs that they don’t play often or haven’t played for years, like ‘All Over Again,’ ‘Drive’ (one of my favourites), and ‘World Without You.’ Of course they played the favourites too, like ‘Nashville Grey Skies,’ ‘State Lines,’ ‘Tonight,’ and ‘A Thousand Hallelujahs,’ which always get people singing along and dancing. Of their most recent album, Good Years, which they never got to tour due to the pandemic, they only played two songs and they happened to be my two favourites: ‘Lightning Strikes’ and ‘About Last Night.’ So that was cool. And they also played one of my all time favourites of theirs, ‘Daddy’s Little Girl.’ I connected to that song instantly – it being about the loss of a father and how, whatever else you are or end up being, the most important thing you’ll always be is his daughter – and it’s remained very special to me. I actually posted a short cover of it on Instagram years ago:
And to make a cool concert experience even better, they performed a couple of songs from their next album, that is apparently written and produced already so hopefully it won’t be long before we get to hear that. Of the two songs they played, I loved ‘Side by Side’ and I can’t wait to hear it again already. So that made the night extra special.
It was painful – as most things are right now – but it was a good night. It was so wonderful to be at a concert again; they really are my happy place, where I forget about the hard stuff (for the most part – I mean, you can’t exactly forget about physical pain when you’re in it). Hopefully things will continue to improve on the COVID front and concerts can, at some point, come back in full force. That’s the dream anyway.
I was hurting before we got home. I’d stayed sat down as much as possible to protect my knee but apparently my leg has a mind of its own because my foot kept tapping – and therefore flexing my knee – no matter how many times I forced myself to stop. And chronic pain and applause clearly don’t go well together so I think I might have to come up with an alternative for bad pain days (I’ve since found some suggestions here, or maybe the sign language version of clapping is the way to go). And the next morning, my whole body hurt and I was stiff and ache-y. My back and my hands were the worst and unfortunately my painkillers weren’t doing much more than taking the edge off. So that was a pretty unpleasant day but it was worth it.
So that was my first concert back. I honestly thought I’d find it more scary, more stressful – in the pandemic anxiety sense, that is. It was all a bit overwhelming for a moment going in but once we were in the auditorium and the show had started, somehow I forgot about COVID and my anxiety; I was just in the moment and completely absorbed by the music. That wasn’t something I’d expected and it was quite wonderful. All the anxiety, all of the precautions and planning… it was all so very worth it to have live music again.
Category: anxiety, covid-19 pandemic, emotions, event, favourites, heds, medication, music, video Tagged: anxiety, ben earle, chronic pain, concert, concerts, country music, cover, covid, covid-19, crissie rhodes, daddy's little girl, eds, ehlers danlos syndrome, heds, hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome, jake morrell, live music, medication, pain, pain management, pain medication, pandemic, pandemic 2020, pandemic anxiety, safety precautions, singersongwriter, singing, songwriters circle, the shires, uk country, university
Posted on December 2, 2020
On the 31st October, it was announced that England would be going into lockdown again on the 5th November so it seemed appropriate to revive this list. Having said that, it hasn’t felt like a lockdown at all with so many business, schools, and activities continuing still open; life seems to have continued as normal, which has felt very stressful. I don’t want to make generalisations though. I know that many people have stuck to the rules and been very careful and I am so grateful to everyone who has done so.
As a disabled person, my life hasn’t changed much with the lockdown. The only significant change has been that I haven’t been able to swim, the only exercise I am currently able to do. I can admit that that has been very frustrating and upsetting but if it helps to keep people safe, then that is something that I’m more than willing to do. I just hope that the sacrifices so many people are making are worth it – most so much bigger than mine – that they outweigh the lack of care that some people have shown. Just my two cents.
Now, to the list…
I hope that was interesting to read, that you got something out of this post. Hopefully there won’t be cause to revive it again but if there is, I guess we’ll see what I get up to. I hope you’re all staying safe and are coping the best you can. See you in the next post.
Category: about me, animals, anxiety, autism, book, chronic fatigue, covid-19 pandemic, emotions, event, meltdowns, mental health, music, treatment, university, video, writing Tagged: agents of shield, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, autistic meltdown, autistic student, behind the song, black friday, blogging, bonfire night, celebration, christmas, christmas shopping, close, conference, daisy johnson, essay, family, film, fireworks, folklore, folklore: the long pond studio sessions, graduation celebration, halsey, his dark materials, home recording, honest, honest ep, honest music video, honest single, i would leave me if i could, interview, joe biden, livestream, lockdown, lockdown 2.0, lockdown 2020, masters degree, masters degree in songwriting, masters degree year two, masters part time, medical tests, melodyne, meltdown, music industry, music video, my cat, my cats, nerve pain, netflix, neurodiversity, nicola walker, noise sensitivity, noomi rapace, noughts + crosses, pain management, pandemic, pandemic 2020, part time masters student, part time student, personal essay, poetry, poetry book, popwrapped, production, publication, published, recording, recording session, richard marc, richard marc music, richard sanderson photography, sensory overload, sick cat, singer, singer songwriter, singersongwriter, singersongwriter life, singing, songwriting, student, swimming, taylor swift, the queen's gambit, the split, tim minchin, trigger, triggered, triggers, university, us election, us election 2020, video, writing

Hi! I’m Lauren Alex Hooper. Welcome to my little blog! I write about living with Autism Spectrum Disorder, ADHD, OCD, CPTSD, depression, and anxiety, as well as other health issues including hEDS and POTS.
I’m an alt-pop singer-songwriter (it’s my biggest special interest and I have both a BA and MA in songwriting) and my most recent EP, Too Much And Not Enough, Vol. 1, is available on all music platforms and is the first in the series of works based on my experiences as an autistic person.
Finding Hope