Self-acceptance, Identity and the Trans Debate

The first half of the blog title refers to a talk i went to today by Dean Beadle, touring autism advocate and professional speaker.

To be clear upfront I left half way through as I found it pretty uninspiring. The typical arguments made in favour of understanding and addressing misconceptions, I’ve heard them all before, wrestled with them for a long time.

Nothing new to report, though in fairness I will report a useful tip. It’s important to make the distinction clear between needing someone to help and needed someone to just listen.

I was impressed with that remark. Though in the spirit of self-acceptance I feel pleased to have at least attended, help myself to some free food at the buffet, said hello to the one person I actually knew from the old gang, decided it wasn’t really for me and buggered off.

All while keeping my head held reasonably high. If it sounds like I’m being overly dismissive of the speaker it’s because I checked out his social media beforehand and don’t like the people he allies with in the name of self-acceptance.

It is again in the spirit of self-acceptance that I can say there’s much I don’t like and much that I’m intolerant of. Is anyone really autistic if there’s nothing that’s intolerable? Not for me to say but that’s my understanding of it anyway.

And so I’m finally going to voice an unpopular opinion that Transgenderism as an ideological movement is not meritorious in anyway, moreover, that it is in fact a poisonous cult.

There used to be a thing called Transsexualism where people actually underwent operations to change sex. It doesn’t seem like there is anything to actually connect the two seeing as how modern transgenderism is more commonly about claiming to be the opposite gender stereotype while ignoring the material biological sex.

To bring it back to the word stem Trans, of course the broad church that is Transhumanism has it’s roots within the deep desire to Transcend the limits and limitations of humanity. It’s not hard to see the same rebellious, individualistic desire to sting two fingers up to judgmental society.

To quickly summon my right-on trendy liberal credentials I was raised to be very live and let live and I wouldn’t say boo to a goose.

And let it be said that I’m not opposed to anyone seeking self-acceptance (I’m using that word a lot tonight) through any means.

There’s a difference between that and disappearing up your own areshole, narcissistically demanding everyone else accepts you and your new ideology.

The movement I criticise, personified by it’s more vocal proponents, uuuugh. Contemptible.

I don’t have any reason to hate anyone who suffers from genuine gender disphoria, quite the opposite in fact. You can actually hate something or someone assuming there is a good reason.

I could make a long list of all the reasons why I hate those who place themselves as the defenders of trans rights and claim the moral victory. A cursory dip into the many Twitter arguments online will quickly reveal those who have become a mirror image of who they oppose.

Our good friends in the Communist community have a name for this sort of thing. Reactionaries.

The first thing to note pertaining to the topic is how obvious it is there’s nothing that screams “I demand validation from others” more. I’ve been down that road and it isn’t liberating. It certainly isn’t self-respect.

Yes, none of us are truly able to live without others but we can all live with more dignity than this.

To attempt to sum up the reasons for hate, the concept of trans developed as the Trojan horse that existed to sneak it’s way through boundaries and we all know by now how important boundaries are to mental health.

The violation that truly sickens me is how disproportionally it is autistic children who are being primed for “transing” and being offered a pathway towards expensive medical procedures with life-altering consequences.

And let’s not forget the male rapists miraculously discovering their new identity shortly after being convicted.

You can feel the palpable atmosphere of moral panic virtue signalling as some desperately show their love and acceptance for the new victim identity. While those who know the crimes committed against women because of their biological sex are branded as bigots and Nazis.

You would think that the most progressive message to send would be that it’s ok to be whatever you are. So where did the idea that someone can be born into the wrong body with the wrong gender come from?

It came from exploitative shitheads offering their own lucrative solution to a problem that only exists in diseased minds.

I’m going to be careful with my words here but self-acceptance is about learning to come to terms with a medical diagnosis of a condition that implies life-long difficulties, struggles and disabilities.

How many of those struggles are a product of a society that operates in a way that meets their needs and not ours?

How many because society treats the different like shit?

How many young people are looking to redefine themselves and their very self-identites because they’re treated like shit for being who they really are?

Who’s going to challenge your harmful self-beliefs and who’s validating them, telling you what you want to hear to keep you keen, always wanting more?

Wolves in sheep’s pronouns.

There’s an old saying, “if you want to know who owns you, ask yourself who you can’t criticise” and let’s be honest, that’s the antithesis of respect.

Being unable to take criticism shows a distinct lack of self-respect. Throwing accusations of bigotry to deflect criticism only demonstrates how fragile the ideology is and how false the self-acceptance is.

I’ve been there you know, been there so hard and for so long. The liberal-lefty in me who wants to be the good man above all, I didn’t respect that people are different, didn’t respect that people deserve the truth, to know what’s what.

Yeah, you can bet your house on the fact that I didn’t accept who I was when I tried to please everyone all the time. When I tried to be perfect.

When I was desperate for that special someone’s affection. How desperate I was to change myself.

I’m going to borrow another word from the Marxists. Dialectics are everything.

There are 2 sides to me that have always been at war with each other. If only they could have just talked things through. There’s the notion that only one side ever wins the battle but the truth is most wars come to end with an agreement and a settlement of terms.

Let both sides have their say and come to a mutually beneficial agreement. In reality there is but little that is inherently and only good or bad. Every conflict deserves to be argued with both sides to be heard out.

If anyone reading all this hates me and what I have to say, I understand well and you are allowed to hate me. I’m only going to respond to a reasoned argument and welcome meaningful criticism.

If you’re planning on tracking me down IRL to threaten me or get me sacked/arrested for the crime of voicing an opinion, that will only validate the truth of my words.

To finally make the point here, accept yourself for who you are. All of a sudden you’ll find that people can’t actually hurt you in the way that you believe they can.

Save all the moral indignation you can muster for all the true evils that surround us of which there are still many.

A quick exploration of the hypothesis, no one would ever struggle to accept themselves in isolation, it’s only ever other people that influence us to reject ourselves. All well and good except for the fact that none of us would survive on our own. We’re a social pack animal.

Well most of us anyway. Alas, being the runt of the litter hasn’t worked out so well, maybe it’s time to assert some independence and stop being at the mercy of external forces.

There’s only so much shit you can eat before you start to question why. Do you deserve to eat better?

Did you think you were eating the finest crop, only to find that it was actually (broad metaphor) dogshit?

We all eat dogshit for some reason, the key is to understand why. Self-acceptance means never having to eat dogshit again.

Thanks as always for reading. I don’t want to talk hate again but I guess needs must. Next post will hopefully be more positive but no promises.


Neurodivergence and political correctness.

I thought begin with a little addendum to the previous post. Speaking about what anxiety actually is and there’s much more to it than what I wrote. With that said though I haven’t made much progress on that front.

It is complex and the chain of logic goes deep into what makes me tick. I realise that to some extent, I just want things to be fantastic but I expect things to be terrible. The cognitive dissonance arises and things just don’t feel right.

I did go back to the last two times I went to the local autism hub to maybe check in and see if my old friends were there. And they were.

I can only go to the conclusion that my life was so wonderful with them that I could just never go back to that state having made such a mess of things. The new expectation of being snubbed and dismissed just cannot be tolerated having know what was and what could have been.

It still remains the aim to be in a place where I can begin anew and replace those extreme expectations with openness. But to go back I must do something drastic to be able to change my outlook.

Some disappointing news from the hub is that despite a previous intention to restart the monthly social evenings, the socials have now been organised in the Friday afternoon drop in slot. So for people like me who work the usual 9-5 we cannot attend unless we book time off work.

There was a shock change around Christmas as the 2 most senior staff members quit without much warning so I can imagine staffing issues prevent them from expanding back into evening socials.

I occasionally drop in on my lunch break for half an hour. Been meaning to go recently but work is extra stressful at the moment. I’ve grown into more responsibility in m y role at work, currently  just got my colleague his checker accred and training a new team member. We’re close to getting him signed off as well.

Work has been pushing daily productivity targets for several months now and I try my best to ignore them and just do what I can.

For the topic at hand, I’m taking some time to watch vids from the neurodivergent community. It struck me how the journey of self-discovery I’ve been on has never been far away from the political battle for better treatment of and understanding of us neuroatypicals.

When I say political I’m really talking about the morality and correctness of how society treats us and represents us. Are we a burden to be lifted? Are we a special snowflake that needs to be coddled? Are we just like everyone else in most ways?

Should we be discriminated against for our disabilities? Should we be singled out for special treatment? Should we be normaliased? Should we be raised the same way as everyone else?

Are we the archtype of advanced future Nu-Human? Are we making neurotypicals look bad? Should we care about any of that and just get on with our lives?

I think we can all agree it’s the height of evil to send us to the Nazi killing centres as Hans Asperger is now known to have done.

It all comes down to ideas of whether autism is an illness that needs to be cured or if its fine and doesn’t. I can admit there have been many times I  have wished I didn’t have it. Wished my friends didn’t have it. Or at least some aspects of it.

Separate from that though is how society sees us and the messages people send when they deal with us. Reductive stereotypes abound. Unhelpful rhetoric. And of course the common trope of claiming to be an ally while speaking for us and over us.

Beyond the fundamental axioms of good and bad I wonder if there is or ever will be a correct answer.

I don’t really believe living according to anyone else’s standards and systems is of any benefit to me now so I’m quietly digging in to living life my own way. I’ll find out for myself what’s good for me and bad for me.

Its hard going but I slowly learn to accept other people shouldn’t have to live up to my standards either. Though I will offer my own perspective I’m not going to insist on helping people and trying to fix every problem.

I know I’ve never wanted to force my opinions onto anyone else. I don’t do it and never have. Always sit back and say nothing. Its not in my nature to think I’m better than everyone else. In my own weird way I always respected individuality and I like people who are truly unique and different.

I don’t like change I never tried to change anyone I didn’t like. Quite the opposite actually, I ended up trying to maintain consistency and predictability while trying to stay interesting enough.

So meek was I that I viewed boundaries as a repressive force and so I never said no. The last two years can be summed up as a long overdue blanket of saying no.

It is and can only be from those authentic voices of neurodivergence that I build an understanding of how best to behave around us.

The mutual support and friendship I found was wonderful. I would do anything within my power for them to the point of love-bombing. It would have been great if I could do it forever without any conditions or expectations.

Alas I was doing it because I wanted something and when I wasn’t getting what I wanted, soon enough I was no longer acting with the same kindness. But at the same time I felt that I had been pulled in with kindness and pushed away without kindness.

My experience has taught me not to trust kindness anymore. Through the same eyes I can see my best friend had plenty of reason not to trust kindness and she always made independence the most important thing in her life.

She was diagnosed a year or so before me and I think she had done so much to help herself already before I came along.

I looked for friends and social excitement before I had really begun to process and come to terms with my diagnosis.

She continues to have a massive influence on me as I continue to learn my lessons in her absence. For so much we had in common we are still different people but I find myself finally following her footsteps in valuing independence above all.

Outside of those times I was completely in thrall of her I can appreciate how stubbornly I’ve taken the lonely path of living in my own world to avoid the demands of normal society and live for myself.

I pride myself on how few people could realistically live the isolated life I live and how fiercely I fight to be by myself.

More and more I see the neurotypical crowd devote their lives to other people. The people who see me sitting alone in the pub and think there must be something wrong with me.

I’d rather be by myself now. Rather sit here writing my blog. I could have stayed at home but I like being among people so long as I can just chill out and focus on myself.

It’s amusing to think now that the neurotypical crowd with all problems that could do with fixing. I’m not gonna tell them what they should or should not be doing. Let them figure it out.

What truly defines my social anxiety is knowing that my words and actions could change someone’s life but not really understanding how. Social interactions in particular have the potential to change my life. Recent experience confirms that 1000-fold.

And those who told me that i shouldn’t try to change people, well they’re right in a way but isn’t that why we socialise? To bring some new opportunity, to open doors for change? To meet someone who can provide what we can’t do for ourselves? To see another side of life?

My problem was always how I couldn’t accept any possibility of affecting someone or being affected negatively. My deep drive to be perfect can be the best thing about me but it leaves me totally incapable of handling tough times.

To play devils advocate here, maybe this is the cross for us autistics to bear. Absolutely not generalizing here but experience with my friends tells me that it’s better to be flexible with friends than become dependent on them.

I find myself regretting how deeply I loyalty checked my friends when the truth is that they had every right to do their own thing. They would and maybe still will always be my friend but I wanted to know if they would be sad to lose me as a friend.

I wanted to know if I was a good friend or bad one. What I know now is that I’d rather be the only friend I need than ever be in that position again.

I overhead some pub talk from the normal folk and I feel distinctly unimpressed and uninspired. This is why I don’t feel any urge to join them.

There is no objective answer to the question of what is the correct way to be human. I only know what I feel is correct. Though the balance between doing the right thing for yourself and for others is a delicate dance.

To sum up and come to some sort of conclusion, society is not set up to benefit those of us at the fringes of neurodiversity. We are the ones who need to ensure we do what’s good for ourselves and we need to protect ourselves from the demands of others.

We need only to trust ourselves. At the critical point of confrontation I asked her if she still trusted me. She didn’t say yes so that is the real reason I could not stay friends. She was either right not to trust me or she was wrong not to trust me. Either way it spelt out something awful. But I had stopped trusting myself and that left me a hostage to a horrible moment.

Always trust yourself xx

Explicit addendum in edit. Trust cannot be freely given but has to be earned. Trusting yourself is I think the most important thing you will ever do but you cannot just give it. It takes work and experience. I hope that those who read my blog know how fucking difficult it is.

Trusting yourself becomes slightly easier when you stop trusting others so readily. But then it comes from walking a lonely path.

We all crave understanding but some of us have to go without it. Then we will know how much we matter if only to ourselves.

As always thank you for reading xx

The Destruction of Reason

Been working on getting back in touch with my moral compass and developing the framework of how to approach moral life.

Currently reading this meaty tome. An exposition of the background and causes of the rise of fascism in 20th century Germany. The central role of what is referred to as irrationalism and how reason, reality and history are erased in favour of romanticism and fantasy of myth and mystery.

Everything happens for a reason and those reasons are cause and effect. It’s becoming common today to see people demanding the world accept their irrational and ideological calls for change while simultaneously not giving a shit about how other people are affected.

It is common knowledge that the devastating economic effects of WWI led to the rise of Hitler. It less well spoken of that Germany was late to develop economically and had not been through the same cultural revolutions that prepared the way for democratisation.

Germany was also late to develop a national identity and it’s culture was still heavily influenced by irrational superstitions, believing that moral authority was the product of otherworldly supermen.

A loose collection of diverse small statelets whose commonality was found in being left out and bypassed from the economic expansions of the time. They came together looking for identity and above all, looking for an ancestry, a history.

Dependence on their “betters” was the overwhelming philosophy of the era thanks largely to the ruling classes entrenching their ill-gotten wealth.

Same old story eh? Of course Russia was even less developed than Germany but they skipped the bourgeoisie revolution in favour of the proletarian revolution.

Just to be clear I don’t call myself a Marxist or communist but my political leanings have always been influenced by humanism and equality. I’ve always been in favour of that which benefits people in reality.

I’ve seen and experienced the way fear twists a persons mind away from reality. In the micro my own fears came from the fact that I became totally dependent on being valued and wanted. The fear of being rejected caused the worst feelings I have ever felt.

I’ve made sufficient progress to be able to talk about it honestly. But yes, the way I felt meant that I was becoming a possessive, bitter jealous loser. I have no doubt that if I did ask her out and started a proper exclusive relationship with her, then I would have been intolerable. I think I always knew this so I never asked her out but when I was struggling I opened up and told her how badly I’ve coped with heartbreak in the past.

How many things I said and did that ultimately gave away what I hid for so long. That I was completely infatuated with her but it was always going to end up in a messy and destructive self-loathing.

The sheer desperation I felt at my worst and hurt that came from even innocent things that made me insanely jealous, that made me feel like a terminal loser. That feeling is something I never want to experience ever again. I just can’t go through that again.

And I slowly begin to accept that the girl I fell for didn’t really exist. The girl who made me insanely  desperate for affection didn’t really exist. I know that the fantasy version of her I fell in love with was who I thought I was in a relationship with.

Its difficult to fully come to terms with how far from reason I had chosen to go in favour of an irrational desire to be irrationally in love. It was thrilling, exilerating and life-affirming. Until it wasn’t.

But the hope came from believing that in some small way the fantasy might meet reality. Everything changed when I had to face a reality where my deep irrational fantasy was quashed.

I never wanted to become dependent on her and I never wanted her to be dependent on me. I always wanted her to choose me. But I know there were times when I wanted to be the only one she looked to for company. I guess I wasn’t a very good friend to her and I don’t expect she would ever want to be friends again.

All of that is why I’m dedicating my energy to becoming fully independent so I never become that desperate again. Most of my life has been without friends and I think I at least feel independent and free to do what I want albeit lonely and sad.

Lesson learning time. I guess I never really learned how to deal with true heartbreak as I never risked it. Well I finally met someone who I liked enough to fall in love with. I learned so much from her but only when we stopped being friends did I learn how to say “never again”.

I don’t plan on chasing a romantic relationship and not sure I even want friends in my life until I’m in a place where I feel bulletproof, that no one can ever make me feel inferior. And for that I’ve had to readjust my hopes and dreams.

I don’t ever want to do stuff I don’t enjoy for the sake of spending time with someone. I don’t know if I really want to enjoy anything to the point of depending on it to be happy. I want to learn how to be able to do anything and not need to do it to be happy.

Ultimately the desire to appear normal and enjoy the social life that everyone else enjoys was a big part of why I became so dependent on her. What am I trying to do now? How can I be both happy and independent?

By forging my own path through life and living in accordance with my values above anyone else’s.

In some ways I value reason above anything else. My way of understanding the world and the people in it is to look for the cause that explains the effect.

I’ve learned that I shouldn’t take to too much stock of other people judging me. The only criticism I would entertain now would be those who can accurately link the harmful outcomes of my behaviour to a specific cause and offer a better way. It seems like this is something I’ll have to do for myself and I prefer it that way now.

In the hunt for the secret of how to provide something good for my fellow humans, what I have to offer may be just teaching the wisdom of reason and advocating independence and sharing the benefits of living life by owns own rules. And forever warning against the dehumanizing effects of fascism.

Contradictions are what drive social evolution and I’ve only evolved when forced to overcome the real contradictions of life. There are happy times when we don’t want things to change but they must and they will.

Changes are underway at work but I’ll probably write about that another time. In short a lot of my colleagues are losing their jobs and my own job status long term is uncertain but probably safe for a couple of years at least.

I’m thinking positively and if the worst happens it’s an opportunity for change and I’ll try to make the most of it.

But for now I’m just getting on with things, avoiding other things, just doing what needs to be done. Taking my time, not knee-jerking, not chasing fantasy but following my head and not giving a shit.

Thanks as always for reading xx

Row, row, row your boat

Returning to the blog for a little ramble. It’s nice to be back into it. Taking a rest from blogging in the pub has been good because I feel some things have changed sufficiently for me not to feel bogged down in my struggles.

Been on call for jury service this week though I wasn’t needed in the end. It was rough going day after day being told that I’m still on call. Glad it’s over and glad I didn’t have to go in and attend.

Things have settled now to some extent but I’ve been feeling the usual pressure building up to get off my head drunk and lose the inhibitions.

The next thing to worry about is that I’ll be training a new colleague at work and it will be full training from scratch. It means I won’t have much time alone to work by myself at my own pace.

Work has been stressful recently as we’ve had to rush things in preparation for my jury absence which never happened in the end.

I’ve been taking the pressure off by succumbing to tiredness and lack and motivation to do the usual stuff to keep my mind busy. Spending more time just lazing watching new stuff online.

Still wrestling over the same issues but I think I’m seeing things more clearly and am less conflicted. It’s about time that I restart digging deeper and confronting the emotional pain I still hold.

Ive got a plan now at least. Might not work in any way but it’s a tactic at least. From watch have learned from mental health advice, I am going to have to begin to be my own shoulder to cry on.

I’m going to have to parent myself and offer the support and acceptance and validation and love that I can’t get from anyone else now.

And I need to get a consistent code of behaviour that I can get fully behind. A guide to direct me in my decision making. A system that governs me and is in line with my true values and my conscience.

Recent news that has become a hot topic for debate, with a lot of emotion behind it. Touching on the unwritten rules of public morality or more pertinently, a complete upending of reality in favour of dodgy, narcissistic ideology.

My heart goes out to those who speak the truth at huge personal cost in the face of foul abuse and it’s inspired in me a desire to walk the path of authenticity. To never again hide myself away from social judgement.

Because I’m more aware now of how intolerant and unaccepting people are towards those who say no. Those who rightly refuse to bow down to ideology and rightly defend themselves against increasingly predatory demands.

And to the painful thought that I became very selfish, very narcissistic, very demanding at my worst. I’ve made many excuses, used my autism as an excuse, demanded people understand that I had no choice because of my inability to deal with loss and change. I was never very good at not getting what I want. So most of the time I just don’t ask for anything.

And I’ve never been very good at dealing with criticism. And I absolutely cannot deal with the thought that someone might find me unlikable.

Its a been long, slow process to finally think differently. To begin believing that I’m actually better off being alone than try to desperately please someone who just doesn’t like me.

I guess I’ve had to face up to the fact that I had gone from someone deserved support as an innocent victim of a traumatic neurodivergence into someone who was just perpetuating a cycle of traumatic abuse.

Always much easier to see it in others than to see it in myself. Much harder to take responsibility and admit it.

It was all the trauma’s fault but I wanted other people to be traumatised with me instead of working to heal it and overcome it.

I find it easier to be told no, now I’ve started saying it myself. But of course I’ve been humbled by the experiences of others who face horrors worse than my own. Those who face the worst kind of abuse just for saying no.

It’s no secret that my recent experiences have left me feeling disconnected if not oppositional and adversarial to other people. Times like these I feel like it just might be the wise decision.

I am ultimately using this lonely time to rebuild myself and forge myself anew as someone who can finally stop pretending to be someone I’m not and be unafraid to be myself. It may be the case that I’ll never truly be able to do that around anyone I really care about and want to spend time with.

My own wellbeing should be more important than anyone else’s for the simple reason that I’m the one who has to live myself and I’m the one who is responsible for what I do.

Right now I don’t feel like putting myself out for anyone else. I’m not yet ready to do it for myself let alone anyone else.

We’re all in the same boat but some of us feel the crashing waves affect us more. I’ve taken the path of rowing my own boat in calmer waters but I’ve had to row it alone. To stretch the metaphor I’ve been rowing in the opposite direction to everyone else so it feels like I’m a hindrance while I’ve been going backwards.

But at least I can say that I’m rowing in the right direction and I should only choose to row with those who are aiming in the same direction.

That’s an issue I think a lot about. We’re all told that we should embrace what’s different and we shouldn’t judge those who are different by own standards.

I can sum up now why I struggle with people who are different. Because I don’t really feel like I’ve ever had enough people in my life who were rowing in the same direction.

I always have clinged on to anyone who I thought was similar to me and yet I always end up feeling abandoned to row alone, to face the currents of life without help and with only one rickety oar that might just break at any moment.

And well fuck it, at least I get to decide where I’m going now.

But to get back on track I need to overcome that source of pain that keeps me afraid to row because I can’t see any further than the choppy waters.

Stretching the metaphor to breaking point I need to learn how to actually enjoy rowing enough to get back in the boat.

It’s usually my fellow rowers who make the journey worth taking, who make the rough waters tolerable.

I’m a social creature by nature but I don’t know how to row the boat the way other people do it. Do you know what? I never wanted to be like anyone else. But I don’t know how to navigate life and the only thing I’ve learned is how to pretend I know just by copying what everyone else does.

And yet I can’t help but note that maybe no one else knows either. The real reason that we humans look for company because everyone needs a co-pilot at times.

Spend too much time listening to your co-pilot and all of a sudden people start to ask why they put any faith in you and start to look to the one who actually has an idea of where to turn.

Social life is all about letting people into your boat and them letting you into theirs. On the rare occasion that I got invited to someone else’s boat I always chose to set my own boat on fire and then cry over being thrown overboard.

To take the metaphor to its conclusion, it’s taken nearly 2 years to build myself a new boat and to gingerly test the waters again. I’d give nearly anything to have my co-pilot back but I like my own boat now and it needs more time and energy to maintain before I ever leave it again.

The obvious social advice is that I should be proud of my boat no matter what and that not everyone will like being in my boat and that’s fine.

To sum up, I’ve never really let onto my real boat. It sails the darker waters and goes only where I know.

Thanks for reading and excuse the heavy handed metaphor throughout but I felt it was working xx

If anyone asks what radicalised me

Been a crap few days recently. Not least due to a nasty bout of diarrhoea this weekend. Timely reminder that I should be a little more careful about what I eat.

Good news  from work is that I’ve gained accreditation for checking which means I can now authorise payment values of up to £100k.

However I’m still having issues with a couple of things so it may take another week or so to get fully integrated to the role.

While I’m here I may as well give my thoughts on the current state of the world. I don’t normally feel comfortable talking about politics.

I try not to put too much argument around stuff I don’t know about in great detail. And of course there is no perfect politics. The world is a messy, ugly place.

I have observed society at large from a distance. I’ve never been more convinced than I am now that society is really heading further and further into a very dark place.

The first observation to remark is how after 2 years of fearmongering over covid, it has very quickly and quietly been reversed as if it never fucking happened.

People like me who argued against covid measures have been smeared as far right racists and white supremacists.

And yet they express their shock and horror that the Beast from the East dares to invade Fortress Europe.

Look closely at the media hysteria and observe how they lambast an invasion of a “civilised” part of the world.

And remember how often our own forces set boots on someone else’s country in the name of bringing “peace and stability”.

As an autistic person I’m used to seeing the world differently. The world now feels distinctly loathsome and I feel less and less desire to be part of it.

Really is time to make some drastic changes. But it’s going to be one step at a time.

Time to get away from social media for good. Time to get away from everyone who mindlessly regurgitates moral panic at every turn.

A lifetime of masking has always meant that I’m an unconscious mirror of society. At this time of constant terror propaganda I need to break free.

If anyone asks in the future what radicalized me? Well I’d say that I’m so much more sensitive to the mores and manners of society at large.

And I reject it all right now.

I’m doing it all on my own and it’s going to be difficult but I’d rather do it this way than compromise all that I value for scoring good guy points or playing for “The right team.”

Going to reorganize the blog at some point so I can share stuff here instead of Facebook. I think I feel the pull of pencil art once more will hopefully get back into more creative stuff.

Difficult to write this one but I’m feeling more inspired now to do something personally fulfilling and maybe give something back.

Thank you for reading those who do are very much appreciated.

Jamie x