Every day there is such an influx of internal dialogue that creates the peaks and troughs in which my emotional state varies. Small victories become unfathomable questions of meaning and lows explore the rationality of existence.
Purpose must come into it, so I tell myself that I am good enough, then I castigate the pride that I exhibit because I know I could do better. How DOES one present to others achievements and why? To gain trust on a perceived authority? Who am I to represent the hidden disability I am not an authority on? I’m just me, where my cognitive difficulties are, I assume, unique to me, and as I understand, we are all unique.
I use my creativity to speak out, to challenge, to have a voice when others have talked over me as I pause to think what I want to say. I take a breath and my chance has been taken from me.
Messages coded in images to say it but not say it. To hide behind the image and the message is appraised in terms of aesthetical consideration.
I make ‘art’ to stay alive. It’s as simple as that.
Exploration of Life as a Neurodiverse Creative 