Posted on April 22, 2023
Last week, I had a little moment – relating to being autistic – that just utterly made my week, my month… you get the idea. And I wanted to share that on here.
Sometimes it feels like medical professionals just don’t get it and it’s easy to feel pressured into making decisions that we wouldn’t necessarily have made had our needs been understood and had we been given more time to think about it. But then something like this happens and it just… makes me feel hopeful, I guess. That things will get better, that people will become more aware and more understanding.
If you’ve been following me for a while, you may remember that I’ve been going to a specialist dental clinic for several years now, having had some pretty traumatic experiences at the dentist before that, before my Autism diagnosis. Since then, going to the dentist has been a lot less scary; I think it will probably always be stressful but it is a lot easier than it used to be (and for that I am very grateful).
I was at my appointment last week and after a gentle and patient check, my dentist ran through the potential next steps. Then she paused and acknowledged that I probably needed some time to think about it, that, while I seemed calm, she didn’t want to make any assumptions about what I was actually feeling and what I would be comfortable with. It surprised me in the moment but fortunately it was an easy choice so we moved on quickly. But then, as I was walking out, I processed what had just happened and I was kind of floored by it. I don’t think I’ve ever had a medical professional say something like that to me before, not in the eight years since I was diagnosed as autistic: I probably needed some time to think about it, that, while I seemed calm, she didn’t wanted to make any assumptions about what I was actually feeling and what I would be comfortable with. (I’ve talked about masking and needing time and feeling pressured with therapists but I don’t really put them in the same box as every other kind of medical professional: GPs, consultants (some who work with autistic people and therefore really should know better and some who don’t but should still know better), mental health professionals, dentists, etc.) If I had a pound for every time someone just assumed I was fine because I look fine – even knowing that I’m autistic, even knowing about masking – I would be unbelievably rich. So, having that acknowledged and considered and validated… I don’t even know how to describe how great that feels.
While having this all the time would be amazing, I’m really grateful to have it in a medical space, the kind of space that can be so stressful and pressured. Generally I’m not afraid to tell people that I’m struggling but masking or that I need time to think about things but after so many traumatic experiences in medical settings, I find it very hard; the pressure feels more suffocating and I feel so close to panicking. It would be great to have more people like my dentist with her approach in healthcare but, in this moment at least, I’m just deeply grateful that I have one safe space when it comes to managing my health.
I’ve been thinking about this experience a lot since it happened and while I remain incredibly grateful to have this dentist taking care of me, I just can’t help wondering what it would be like if there were more people like her, not only in medical spaces but in society in general. I can’t even imagine what that would be like. I’m pretty loud and proud about being autistic (even if I don’t always feel proud – I just can’t bear the thought of being even a small part of the reasons why someone might feel bad or scared or ashamed of being autistic) but I don’t always feel safe doing that. And that applies to everything from physical safety to work opportunities to potential friendships. I’m painfully aware that I could be jeopardising those things when I make it clear that I’m autistic (not that it will stop me – after all, it’s going to come up sooner or later). I just can’t help imagining what it would be like to be and talk about my whole self and feel safe doing that.
Category: anxiety, autism, emotions Tagged: actuallyautistic, asd, autism, autism acceptance, autism awareness, autism spectrum disorder, autistic, autistic adult, dentist, masking, specialist dentist, validation
Posted on August 8, 2020
Trigger warning: This post contains details of an emotional breakdown and mentions of self harm.
So results day is coming up. The timeframe is much as it ever was: school grades will be released as planned: A Level results will be released on the 13th August and GCSE results will be released on the 20th August. Degree results tend to depend on the specific university. Despite all of the upheaval over the last several months and the changes made to the expected academic year, many people still took exams of some kind, worked hard on projects or coursework, and pushed themselves to attain the highest marks they could so, regardless of the unusual circumstances, the anxiety around these days is no doubt mounting.
As I’m in the middle of my course, I’m not currently awaiting any grades. I completed my second module back in April and received my marks not long after. But every August (and to an extent, January, when some modules are assessed), I think of all those anxiously anticipating those numbers or letters that they’ve been working towards for months, that their lives have revolved around for so long (not a healthy mindset, mind you, but one that society has entrenched in us and one that I’d like to talk about further at a later date). I think of those young people and hope that, whatever grades they have received, they are coping in a positive and healthy way.
What with my GCSEs, some in Year 9 and some in Year 11, my AS Levels, my A Levels, all the results during my degree, and now my Masters, I’ve had many, many a results day. And the majority of them have been absolutely fine, if not better than fine. Some of them have been downright amazing. But I do have one very negative experience that I think is important to share because chance are, at some point or another, we will all have a bad results day that comes as a shock. So I want to tell this story and then share some advice for dealing with a similar situation…
It was a chilly morning in March 2013 and I was anxiously awaiting the release of the Autumn module results with my friends. The only course I’d had an exam in was Physics and although I’d found it difficult, I finished it feeling like I’d done okay. Having been absent for a lot of secondary school due to ongoing illness, I’d missed out on a lot of foundation material so I’d found the course difficult but during the most recent parent-teacher evening, my teacher told us (me and my Mum) that she had absolute confidence in my abilities and that I was on track for a high grade. So when I opened my results and saw the little printed ‘u,’ I was initially confused. Surely it was a mistake. I’d always gotten good grades and my teacher had said such positive things. I waited restlessly for the mark to be confirmed and when it was, it felt simultaneously like everything went still and like everything was crashing down around me. I made my escape and headed for the more secluded of the two toilet blocks – I felt like every emotion I was feeling was visible on my face and I had no idea how to talk about it or how to pretend that I was fine. I needed to be alone.
I was crying before I even made it into the toilet stall and I sat on the lid, sobbing so hard that my chest hurt. I was gasping for air but it was like my lungs had pinprick holes in them, the air rushing straight out again. Even to this day, I’m not sure I can explain exactly what I was feeling. It’s not especially subtle and sounds very dramatic but it felt like the world was ending. I felt like a failure and I felt like the only thing people would see when they looked at me was a failure. All I was was this ‘u.’ All I was was ‘unsatisfactory.’ I couldn’t move past that thought. Everything else disappeared.
I don’t know how long I sat in that cubicle, crying and self harming, before my friends tracked me down. I wanted to stay there and hide forever but somehow, I dragged myself up and walked out to face them. I still remember the shock on their faces; I still remember looking at myself in the mirror, my face a mess of thick, mascara stained tear tracks and my arms covered in scratches. I looked as bad as I felt.
One of my best friends – someone I still consider a good friend despite the fact that we don’t see each other as often as we used to – took control of the situation, taking me off campus to a coffee shop where she gently coaxed the story out of me over hot chocolate. We both had to go back for classes but she arranged for us to talk to a mutually beloved and admired teacher at the end of the day. I wasn’t convinced but I was operating on autopilot, drained of the will to protest. So after my lesson (a lesson in which I didn’t say a word), we went to see this teacher and in her typical fashion, kind but direct, she told me about some of her experiences and talked me through my options. Then I went home and didn’t return for over a week.
It’s worth noting that my mental health had been deteriorating exponentially over the previous year, so this happened at a time when I was completely unequipped to handle it and it was a catalyst for a lot of big decisions. I dropped out of the physics course, partly because I wasn’t mentally healthy enough to manage the number of courses I was taking and partly because I was so distressed by the experience that I felt completely incapable of going back into that classroom and continuing with the course. Just thinking about sitting in that room triggered anxiety too extreme to function. And I can admit now that there was some shame involved too: I couldn’t bear the thought of my teacher and my class looking at me and seeing a failure. So I dropped Physics, completed the rest of my courses, and started seeking professional help for what were now obvious mental health problems.
To this day, I still struggle to open exam results. I work extremely hard and then, when the results are released, I’m very careful to open them at a time when I feel emotionally equipped to handle whatever they’ll say and when I have the time to process the emotions that I’ll potentially experience. I’ve talked about this a lot with my therapist, in general terms, but then we talk about it every time new results loom. Not long ago, she referred to the experience as ‘a trauma’ and the relief of having it validated for the distress it caused and continues to cause was so overwhelming that I swear my heart stuttered in my chest. After having so many of my experiences (and the ongoing problems they caused) invalidated, it was a really emotional moment. That day had a massive effect on my mental health and my relationship with education and still triggers debilitating anxiety.
Not all results days are like this. In fact, most of them aren’t and I hope that you – you, reading this – never have to go through an experience like this one, but just in case you do, here are some of the things that I’ve learned about coping with difficult results…
IN THE MOMENT
ONCE YOUR EMOTIONS HAVE SETTLED
Despite the trauma of that day and the vivid images that come to mind whenever I recall it, there are three things that I actively choose to focus on:
This post turned out to be a lot longer than I’d intended but I hope it has been somewhat helpful. I hope you remember that whether your results are good or bad, whatever you feel is valid. You have spent years working towards this moment and it’s natural and totally okay to have strong feelings about them. It would be odd if you didn’t. You’ve worked hard for this. So feel what you feel and do what you need to do to make sense of this big, messy experience that you’ve gone through. It will be okay – maybe not in the way you expect but it will be okay. I can promise you that.
Category: covid-19 pandemic, emotions, event, meltdowns, mental health, self harm, therapy, tips, treatment, university Tagged: a levels, advice, anxiety, as levels, asd, autism, autism spectrum disorder, autistic meltdown, coping skills, coronavirus, covid-19, exams, fail, failing, failure, feedback, friend, friends, future, gcses, grades, kindness, meltdown, mental illness, pandemic, panic attack, processing emotions, resit, resits, results, results day, safe place, school, secondary school, self injury, sixth form, sixth form college, talking, teacher, trauma, traumatised, trigger, trigger warning, tutor, tutoring, tw, undiagnosed autism, validation
Posted on May 25, 2019
Of course, there are always more quotes! I had too many quotes on this subject to fit into one post so here are some more quotes that will hopefully validate some of your harder, more complicated feelings.
“I think my life is of great importance, but I also think it is meaningless.” – Albert Camus
“I don’t want to believe, I want to know.” – Carl Sagan
“I cannot understand why the world is arranged as it is.” – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
“God, I just want to be important. I just want to be someone real.” – Ritapa Neogi
“As far as I could see, life demanded skills I didn’t have.” – Susanna Kaysen
“I know too much and not enough.” – Allen Ginsberg
“I feel very small. I don’t understand. I have so much courage, fire, energy, for many things, yet I get so hurt, so wounded by the small things.” – Anais Nin
“The world changes too fast. You take your eyes off something that’s always been there, and the next minute it’s just a memory.” – Michel Faber
“Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives.” – Barbara Kingsolver
“It was because I was scared. Scared of standing out, scared of being invisible. Scared of seeming too big, scared of being too small.” – Malorie Blackman
“I don’t know where the strength went, I don’t remember losing it. I think that over time it got chipped away, bit by bit, by life, by the living of it.” – Paula Hawkins
“I am afraid I will be like this forever.” – Sierra Demulder
“For the first time in my life I understood how someone could consciously decided to commit suicide. Not because they were deranged, not because they were nuts, but because they’d been to the top of the mountain, and they just knew in their heart they’d never get there again. It was never gonna get, never gonna be that way ever again.” – Joe Biden
“The difference between how you look and how you see yourself is enough to kill most people.” – Chuck Palahniuk
“Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn’t make you stronger. It doesn’t build character. It only hurts.” – Kate Jacobs
“I’m sick to death of this particular self. I want another.” – Virginia Woolf
“I’ve spent half my life not knowing the difference between killing myself and fighting back.” – Andrea Gibson
“I was horrified by life, at what a man had to do simply in order to eat, sleep, and keep himself clothed.” – Charles Bukowski
“You never forget. It must be somewhere inside you. Even if the brain has forgotten, perhaps the teeth remember. Or the fingers.” – Neil Gaiman
“There are times when I am convinced I am unfit for any human relationship.” – Franz Kafka
“Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.” – Evelyn Waugh
“Too much emotion, too much damage, too much everything.” – Ernest Hemingway
“It all ends in tears anyway.” – Jack Kerouac
Category: mental health, quotes, suicide Tagged: anxiety, depression, mental illness, mental wellness, motivational quotes, quote, validating, validation

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