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Monday, October 31, 2022

Wibbly Wobbly Thoughts

I started writing this for ASDay 2021. I got mostly done and then lost my train of thought. Picking it again for ASDay 2022.

I keep trying to come up with something to write about, and I start down a good idea, and then get distracted or the inspiration fizzles out. Sometimes I feel despair, because a lot of the topics that come up are the same topics I've written about years ago. Sure, I could write about the exact circumstances of the issue, how it affects people. Use my hard-earned degree to form some sort of argument. But I also just want to write about other things. 

I started to write an open letter to my government about how the pandemic has impacted me, specifically financially. It was going to be an anecdote to support the argument for Universal Basic Income. I was going to compare my life before the pandemic, and now, with how instead of worrying about support coming in from different areas with amounts that adjust from week to week, I can make financial decisions and be confident about being able to afford basic needs and make financial decisions about repairing or replacing items, about being able to take time off work when sick or injured. Because I'm currently on unemployment, and that pays more than ODSP and my job. 

However, I also wanted to write about corsets, and history bounding. The other year, I wrote my thesis about accessibility at autism conferences, and then I went to a costuming convention where a lot of the attendees were disabled. 'If only I had known sooner,' I thought. 'Writing about disability in costuming would be fascinating!' 

I got into corsets from a friend I met at an autism conference; they were wearing a corset and describing how it felt like a calming hug. A personalized weighted blanket. Over the years, I explored mass-produced corsets available online, and determined I needed to make my own. It would also be handy to wear to the LARP I had joined. And so, I dived into the world of historical sewing. 

Which lead me to this convention and the realization that I don't really like modern clothing. The hems, the fabrics, the fit. It has been revolutionary for me to relearn sewing and attempt to sew my own clothing. Clothes should not feel like something to tolerate, but provide comfort and ease. If I must dress myself in clothing made from bed sheets in order to do so, then so be it.

And at the same time, I want to talk about stories. About how research can be used to tell stories. How research can be used to tell stories through data. There's a tendency to respond "well duh" to some studies, and I think that is a disservice to both the autistic community and researchers. Yes, we write stories and blog about issues. But studies take our stories and combine them. By combining our stories and codifying, it says "this isn't just a few people, this is a wider issue."

And I want to talk about my thesis, a learning experience I treasure. How it sparked for me an interest in research and the possibility of further studies. How I want to connect what I've spent all these years studying to my communities, as tools to our causes and needs.

I want to talk about my new kitten, Ezra, and the joy he gives me. Especially when he's being sweet and cuddly. 

I want to talk about the sudden loss of spoons, the desire to do something but being unable to start or complete the action. The need to write something, anything, only to feel the spark fizzle out at an empty screen. The despair as idea piles upon idea, building up to an aching pressure.

I want to talk about pain. The sharp stabs and the deep aches that become constant companions. The pains that are temporary, the pains that are chronic, and the pains that very slowly heal. 

And finally, I want to talk about perseverance. Whether through hope or spite, the importance of continuing on. To do what you can, when you can, however you do it. How I'm learning to forgive myself for taking time, as I forgive others. To recognize my own limits, as I recognize the same for others. To pause and rest when I need it, and to take my time recharging. To let myself fall apart. To let myself put myself back together at my own speed. 

To let myself enjoy things. 

And, when I'm ready, to write again.