holy emotional whiplash, batman
last time I was on here I was 17, waitressing my way through depression, fundraising for a gap year I wasn’t even sure I’d survive to go on, and crying over emotionally unavailable fictional men like it was a full-time job.
now?
I’m 24.
autistic.
still depressed, but make it medicated and self-aware.
living in Manchester, working full-time at a domestic abuse charity where I get to be the person I desperately needed when I was younger. I swapped food orders for safeguarding reports and honestly? kind of thriving in a feral little way.
I’ve been through some absolute hell.
broke down. rebuilt.
Got sectioned. Traveled.
moved cities.
got diagnosed.
found community.
survived things younger me couldn't even name.
sometimes I look around and think, “wow. I did all that?” And then I touch grass, spiral, cry a bit, eat a snack, and keep going.
I’m still queer, chaotic, and chronically online.
still journaling.
still dancing in my kitchen at 2am.
but now I do it with a lil more softness. A lil more healing. A lil less pretending to be okay.
So yeah.
hi again, tumblr.
I’m an autistic idiot with a big heart, joint pain, and a job that matters.
let’s do this.
