Are They Autistic? – Reggie Abbot (Twelve Forever) – Part 1

Hello everybody, this is George Harvey (aka The Autistic Blogger). Welcome to another instalment of Are They Autistic?: the series where I look at characters from various forms of media and analyse whether I think they’re on the spectrum or not.

Today we’ll be looking at Regina “Reggie” Abbot, the main character of the Netflix animated series Twelve Forever. It’s a series I’ve been interested in seeing for a while now but never got around to it. Either because I couldn’t find the time to or because I didn’t have a Netflix account. However, the series has stayed on my mind because parts of the trailer intrigued me about Reggie’s character. Let me explain.

From what I could tell, Reggie is a preteen girl struggling with the reality that she’s growing up. She’s embarrassed to get a bra for her birthday, feels awkward going clothes shopping, and shows no interest in things like makeup or beauty magazines – much to her mother’s disappointment. Furthermore, Reggie seems determined to stay a child no matter what. She spends her time drawing pictures and making costumes; she paints her face black and white, claiming to be a “dead skunk bride“, and has a collection of stuffed animals and action figures. In her own words, she describes herself as “some weird loser who’s loud and awkward and still plays with toys.” 

As you can imagine, Reggie’s desire to stay young causes problems in her social life; she has few friends who share her interests, and it even puts her at odds with her family. Moreover, the situation causes her stress. She knows growing up is inevitable. But she’s worried it’ll mean giving up everything she loves and condemning herself to a life of boredom and misery. Nobody wants that. But it feels like there’s nothing she can do about it. The world is bearing down on her.

One day, Reggie gets so frustrated that she can’t bear reality anymore. She wants to go someplace where she can just be herself. “Where everyone’s cool, and no one ever tells [her] to grow up.” Amazingly, she gets her wish. Through the power of her desires – and a magical key – Reggie and her friends (Todd and Esther) can visit the world of Endless: an island full of bizarre creatures and neverending fun. They’re also granted superpowers, which come in handy when protecting the island from threats such as the Butt Witch. It’s the perfect place for Reggie to escape her worries and live out her fantasies. But it also allows her time to work through her growing pains and resolve conflicts with her friends. Maybe then she’ll learn getting older isn’t as dull and depressing as it seems.

So you might be wondering why I’ve chosen this series and character, specifically. After all, dealing with maturity is a relatable story we’ve heard many times before. Even the addition of a fantasy world easing us through the transition is nothing new – think of classic novels like Peter Pan or Alice in Wonderland. However, I couldn’t help drawing comparisons between Reggie and myself. It’s a little farfetched to say so, but I think her behaviour is similar to someone with Autism. Let me give you some examples.

Firstly, there’s Reggie’s reluctance to change. As mentioned before, getting older is never easy; it comes with many new challenges and experiences. For people with Autism, though, these changes are especially harsh. Understanding the world around us can be difficult, given how differently our minds process information. Because of that, we tend to fixate on whatever we find familiar or amusing. We take comfort in these things because they’re simple to understand, and we know the rules. However, when stepping out of these comfort zones, we know our disabilities will sometimes make new experiences longer and harder to learn. Plus, there’s no guarantee we’ll succeed in them as well as most people. Usually, that’s not the case, and we manage just fine or even better. But it doesn’t make the learning period any less stressful or scary. Consequently, we’re more hesitant to commit to it and often default to what we know.

In Reggie’s case, it’s similar. The thought of becoming a young adult is off-putting to her because it’s entirely different from the life she’s always known. I couldn’t tell from the trailer if she has trouble understanding the world. But her childish antics are more extreme for someone her age – even by some Autistic standards. I’ve already given a few examples above. However, we’re also shown a comparison with Reggie’s brother, Dustin; he’s adjusted to being a teenager much better than his sister – who he now sees as an annoying pest. With so much changing in her life, Reggie takes comfort in the remnants of her childhood. They’re reminders of times when everything was fun and familiar. Maybe she acts the way she does because she doesn’t want to grow up. Or perhaps something inside her is affecting her confidence, which makes moving on too emotionally demanding.

There’s also the fact that Reggie has specific interests. Having a different perspective of the world means Autistic people are sometimes fascinated by the most unusual things. For example, Maud Pie and Mud Briar (Friendship is Magic) are interested in rocks and sticks, respectively. Haruhi Suzumiya (The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya) is drawn to anything not remotely normal. I’m someone who watches a show about colourful talking ponies that’s aimed primarily at young girls. And Reggie loves toys and being creative. For an outsider looking in, these things are strange or irrelevant to obsess over. Thus it often creates distance between them and the Autistic person. We see this with Reggie’s mother trying to get her daughter interested in fashion. However, anything can be fascinating if you take the time to understand what makes them so uniquely appealing. The problem is finding people who share that passion for something so specific. Or a least know why you love it so much. Most people usually gravitate to what’s popular with everyone, and that’s that.

Out of everything I took from Twelve Forever‘s trailer, though, the most intriguing part was when Reggie’s mother explains that her daughter “locks herself in her room for hours, making up stories and living in her own little world.” Hearing these words, I couldn’t help thinking back to my preteen days. I’ve expressed it before, but when I was younger, I always thought about my favourite TV shows, games and characters. I’d relive them inside my head, even at the most inopportune times. I then started coming up with my own stories and ideas, which led me to want to pursue a career in creative writing. Could it be that Reggie is also at this stage? Could she unknowingly be setting herself up to make a living off her passions? It’s entirely possible. After all, parts of Endless are created from her imagination, drawings and toys. Not to mention “living in their own world” is a common way of describing Autistic behaviour. This similarity with me was the most convincing evidence I had thus far.

So you might think I have a solid case for proving that Reggie is Autistic. However, keep in mind everything I’ve mentioned so far comes from my impressions of the trailer – and a few short clips on YouTube. You also have to remember that Autism is several different conditions working together. And they can affect people in different ways. For example, I have a girlfriend who’s also on the spectrum. But unlike me, she doesn’t have Asperger’s Syndrome. So whereas I find it difficult to talk in most social situations, she can talk for hours about almost anything non-stop. 

Just because there are similarities between Reggie and me doesn’t mean we’re both Autistic. The only way I’d know for sure is if I watched the series for myself. Did it confirm or disprove any of my theories? Find out in Part 2 (Are They Autistic? – Reggie Abbot (Twelve Forever) – Part 2 | The Autistic Blogger (wordpress.com)).

Image courtesy of: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt8009622/?ref_=tt_mv_close

My Little Pony: Lesson Zero and Autism (Part 2)

(Continued from Part 1: https://georgeharvey2015.wordpress.com/2016/10/22/my-little-pony-lesson-zero-and-autism-part-1/)

From here onwards, the episode focuses on Twilight trying to cope with the stress of potentially missing her deadline. Many people go through this situation, of course. But it’s important to note how Twilight is reacting. And why. Because she thinks very highly of Celestia, she feels it’s necessary to push herself – if she’s not perfect, it’s not meeting her tutor’s standards. I had this same problem in university. Because I took Creative Writing at Greenwich, one of London’s top colleges, every assignment felt like it had to be precise or else I’d fail my course. This goes back to what I said before about problems feeling bigger than they actually are. No one expects perfection – not even royalty. But if you’re used to being a model pupil, it’s easy to stress over small details and imagine all the negative outcomes.

Thinking she’ll be sent back to magic kindergarten if she fails, Twilight decides to find a friendship problem and solve it by the end of the day. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much luck. Every time she runs into one of her friends they look like they’re in trouble. But it turns out to be a misunderstanding, leaving her crushed.

Yes, Twilight is actually hoping her friends are suffering so she’ll have something to fix and write about. When you’re stressing over a deadline, it’s hard to concern yourself with anything else.

With no friendship problems in sight, Twilight curls up on a park bench trying to comfort herself. However, the pressure is clearly getting her. She’s stroking her tail, her mane is frazzled, she starts crying and arguing with herself (Gollum-style.) She even has hallucinations of younger ponies (fillies) laughing at her.

You might think this behaviour is a bit exaggerated or comical. But I can tell you, from personal experience, that it’s realistic. There were times in university when I’d curl up in fear. Or I’d cry and talk to my reflection. Sometimes I even had nervous twitches that made me throw up in the morning. The point is, stress can cause you to act the way Twilight does. And I’m glad Meghan McCarthy and the animators gave us such an accurate portrayal here.

Spike tells Twilight she needs to calm down because he’s worried about her. He suggests they go to the picnic so she can relax. But Twilight sees this as another chance to find a friendship problem.

Again, this is realistic behaviour from Twilight. When you have short deadlines, it feels like you can’t afford to take breaks. If you do, you’ll just have less time to finish your tasks, which makes the situation more stressful.

Arriving at the picnic, Twilight tells her friends she desperately needs their help. They seem eager to lend a hoof until she explains she’s late for an assignment. At which point, they brush off the problem and go back to their picnic. Twilight insists her whole life depends on this. But her friends just say she’s getting all worked up over nothing – some even laugh and call her a drama queen. This infuriates Twilight, and she runs off in frustration.

This is a very pivotal moment in the episode. Not only does it affect everything that happens afterwards, but it ultimately leads us to the moral of the story.

Also, this situation is something I feel very personal about.

To be fair, Twilight’s friends aren’t being hurtful on purpose – they do show regret after she runs off. But if I were in her position, I’d be mad too. There have been times when I’ve gone to people for help, and all they’ve done is tell me my problems aren’t worth stressing over. I  do understand why they say this. But it doesn’t do anything to help me, and I almost hate them for it.

It’s the same with Twilight.

Yes, she is overreacting – that much is obvious. But she wouldn’t be panicking if she didn’t feel she had a reason to. Her friends don’t see what’s so stressful because they’re not the ones with the problem. So they think the obvious solution is to stop worrying about it. But this is the worst thing you can say to somebody in Twilight’s predicament.

People do prefer not to feel negative emotions. But they can’t stop feeling how they are just because someone tells them to. If you were punched in the face, you wouldn’t forgive the person who did it just because they said it was a joke. You wouldn’t immediately cheer up if you were told your mother died. And you wouldn’t stop worrying about something just because another person said they would. Telling someone they’re overreacting, without offering a proper solution to their problem, just makes that person think you’re being insensitive. Or worse, poking fun at their misery. This is the sort of thing that ruins relationships.

Twilight’s friends don’t realise the severity of their actions – or lack of them. And it’s what leads us to the episode’s climax.

We cut back to Twilight, who’s watching the sun set from her bedroom. By this point, her mind has officially snapped, and she’s descending into madness.

Seriously, go on YouTube, type Crazy Twilight Sparkle and click the first video that comes up. This scene alone proves why My Little Pony isn’t just for girls anymore.

With seemingly no other option, Twilight decides if she can’t find a friendship problem, she’ll make one.

I’ve been through this scenario once too often; the pressure of meeting a deadline can be so overwhelming you resort to taking shortcuts. The stress means you can’t think straight and you’re so focused on finishing the task you don’t care if it’s done well or not.

Twilight goes outside, with a sadistic grin on her face (see image link below), and comes across Applebloom, Sweetiebelle and Scootaloo (the Cutie Mark Crusaders). She shows the fillies her Smarty Pants doll and gives it to them, hoping they’ll fight over it. When they don’t, she casts a “Want It/Need It” spell, which forces them to fight. Twilight tries to teach the girls about sharing but quickly realises the spell is too powerful. Then more ponies fall under her spell until nearly everyone in Ponyville is fighting over the doll. Twilight finds her friends and admits she messed up, just as the sun sets over the horizon.

By the way, I should mention the sun has been setting in a rather unique way. Along with a ‘ticking’ windmill, it’s been jolting across the sky like the hours on a clock face. I love how the animators did this because it emphasises how Twilight is feeling about her time pressure.

Just when it looks like things can’t get any worse, a voice cries out “TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” It’s Princess Celestia. She casts a spell which removes the enchantment from the doll, returning every pony to normal. She then approaches Twilight and says to meet her in the library. Believing she knows what this means, Twilight says a sad goodbye to her friends and walks away – it’s only then they realise how big Twilight’s problem might’ve been.

However, it turns out Celestia isn’t mad. She tells Twilight she’s a wonderful student, and she doesn’t need to get a letter from her every week to know that.

This is further proof that Twilight set the letter deadline herself. She was just pushing herself, unnecessarily, to impress her teacher.

Suddenly, Twilight’s friends burst in and beg Celestia not to punish her. They insist it was their fault for what happened because they didn’t take Twilight’s feelings seriously before. If they did, they could’ve done more to help her, and she wouldn’t have caused all the chaos.

I’m so glad Megan McCarthy included this scene. The episode could’ve ended with Twilight learning her lesson, and that would’ve been enough. But she makes it clear that Twilight wasn’t the only pony at fault. Her friends share equal blame for not taking the right course of action. To quote a line from an old Sonic Underground episode: “You’re part of the problem if you’re not helping solve them.”

Celestia seems impressed that every pony has learnt from the day’s experience. So she makes a deal with them. She’ll forget the fiasco if, from now on, all six of them write her letters on their lessons of friendship – when, and only when, they discover them.

This solution is perfect for two reasons: A) it takes some much-needed pressure off of Twilight, and B) it solves a problem many critics had with the first season. You see, because Twilight was the only pony who could write Celestia letters, she had to be shoehorned into every single episode – even when she wasn’t the primary focus. With this new set-up, however, the writers could keep the spotlight on other characters, without squeezing Twilight in if they didn’t need her.

Before Celestia leaves, Twilight finds out it was Spike who told her she was in trouble and needed some guidance.

I love how Spike was written in this episode. He’s the only character (other than Celestia) who did the right thing. Twilight was too busy panicking to contact the one pony who could’ve assured her nothing was wrong. So, like a true friend, he did it for her. It’s better to express your fears to the person you’re answering to rather than worrying about what they might say or think.

The episode ends with everyone working together to write Celestia a letter. Twilight has learnt not to let her fears get the better of her, or let a small problem turn into something bigger. Her friends have learnt it’s important to listen to others, and consider their feelings when they come to you with a problem. Spike tries writing how great he is and how he didn’t need to learn a lesson but realises he should cross it out. Everyone laughs as the screen fades to black.

*

Overall, Lesson Zero is one of my favourite Friendship is Magic episodes. There have been better ones since it aired like Magical Mystery Cure (S3, Ep13), Slice of Life (S5, Ep9) and Crusaders of the Lost Mark (S5, Ep18). But I enjoy how relatable it is.

I don’t think I would’ve done anything differently to Twilight in this episode. In fact, one of the lessons it teaches has had a profound impact on my writing.

When I first started this blog, I tried to write something for it every week. Unfortunately, this proved too stressful because I had other things going on in my life. And I couldn’t always come up with ideas. So I decided to take Princess Celestia’s advice. Now, like Twilight and her friends, I only write when there’s a significant topic I want to discuss, and when I’m able to devote enough time and effort to it. This has allowed me to produce much better content, with the quality and high standards that my readers deserve.

I could tell you more about what Lesson Zero has done for my life. But I can’t do it justice just by talking about it. If you have Autism, or you care for somebody with the condition, then I would seriously recommend giving this episode a watch. Who’s knows, you might like it so much you end up becoming a brony/pegasister yourself, and watch all six seasons of Friendship is Magic – plus the four Equestria Girls movies.

That’s all I have to say for now. I’m sorry it’s taken me forever to finish this post – it’ll probably be a while before there’s another one – but I try to make sure I have the right blend of quality and quantity in my work. If you have any questions, please leave me a comment. I’ll be happy to answer them. And, as always, stay tuned.

(Image courtesy of http://www.brony.com/brony-facts-faq/my-little-pony-cast/)

(Twilight’s sadistic grin: http://orig11.deviantart.net/8150/f/2012/193/1/9/twilight_sparkle___crazy_by_pyschedelicskooma-d56ymme.png)

College Years (Part 2)

 

When I first found out I’d been accepted onto the Professional Writing course, I felt really proud of myself.

My parents were proud, too. They’d been told for years that I’d never be able to attend College, because of the severity of my Autism. Even the people who diagnosed me thought it would be impossible. However, those same people thought I’d never attend public school either. Yet I spent 8 years at Hook Lane Primary – not in a private school.

My sister and I were the first in our family to attend College at 18, and I was eager to prove myself. But I knew getting into North (West) Kent was just the beginning.

My first real taste of College life came when I went to register my personal details at the campus. On that day I was both nervous and hopeful; nervous because I had to fill out important information about myself without any help, but hopeful because I’d be meeting my fellow students for the first time.

I’ve said before that my later years in Secondary School weren’t the best of my life. I felt depressed and isolated because I didn’t have many friends, and I rarely socialised with anybody. To me, College was about more than just improving my writing skills. I also saw it as an opportunity to make a fresh start. I really hoped that the course would allow me to make new friends – ones who I could relate to.

When I first met my fellow writing students I was a bit surprised. I’d forgotten College wasn’t just for Secondary School graduates, so I expected everyone to be the same age as me. But it turned out I was the youngest in a group that ranged from 18-year-olds to over 50s. This concerned me at first, because I thought it would cause social barriers. Fortunately, this wasn’t the case. Being a small group, it was a lot easier to get acquainted with everyone. And before long we were speaking to each other about our dreams and aspirations as if age didn’t matter.

Everyone had their own backgrounds, but one thing we all shared in common was a passion for writing. Over the next two years, we became a lot closer through helping each other with assignments. We even had our own Facebook page so we could always stay in touch. Having such a close bond proved to be very beneficial for all of us. There were times when someone would suffer personal problems and consider quitting the course, but everyone else would offer their support and convince that person otherwise.

Being a part of this small group proved especially beneficial to me and my social skills. In Secondary School I’d never been to a friend’s house or done anything with them outside a classroom. In College however, not only was I talking a lot more, I was meeting people for lunch, doing Secret Santas with them, attending birthdays, visiting friends houses to watch wrestling, etc.

But my friends weren’t the only ones that made College life more bearable. I also had my tutors.

In my first year, I had two tutors: Neil Nixon who taught ‘Creative Non-fiction’, ‘Research for Writers’, and other subjects on Mondays and Wednesdays; and Michael Ellis who taught ‘Forms of Writing’ on Thursdays.

Neil was an experienced author who’d published a book called ‘How to Get a Break as a Writer’ (2011). He taught me that there was more to being an author than just writing something and trying to find a publisher for it. You also had to find your own writer’s identity and obtain recognition from the right sorts of people (e.g. agents, charities, publishers, libraries, etc). It’s because of him that I discovered my writer’s identity was being an Autism advocate; by writing about my personal experiences with the condition, I could raise awareness of it’s effects and help make a difference in other people’s lives. It’s also what encouraged me to become a volunteer book-picker at the Dartford Library.

Mike Ellis was a bit different from Neil. He had experience in many fields of writing including books, screenplays and TV adverts. He taught me there always needs to be a strong meaning/metaphor behind your writing. Every line you write, or scene you show, has to contribute to a much deeper story than the one your audience sees/reads. For instance, the film ‘Misery’ (1990) might seem like another horror movie, but the screenplay actually explores the idea: ‘What if’ someone couldn’t trust their mother. Ever since then, I’ve always thought of ‘Implicit Messages’ to go along with my story ideas. I’ve also used other techniques such as ‘Internal Dynamics’ and ‘Motifs’, which have made my fiction writing a lot easier.

In the second year I was taught by two more tutors in addition to Mike and Neil. They were: Andy Sayers, who taught ‘Electronic Applications’, and Graham Gladin, who taught ‘The Art of the Novel’ – both on Tuesdays.

Andy was experienced in IT and occasionally hosted Miskin Radio – North Kent College’s radio station. From him, I learnt how new technology was changing the way writers got their work recognised (e.g. podcasts, blogs, social media, online articles, etc). I also learnt how different it was to write something you read to yourself and something you read aloud to other people. Almost every week my classmates and I would research the local news, write a script and then speak about it on Miskin Radio the next day. It’s partly thanks to Andy that I have this blog and why I’m so good with presentations / public speaking.

As for Graham, he taught me things the other tutors didn’t, like the workings of a graphic novel and how fictional accounts could have an impact on society. This encouraged me to continue my dream of becoming a novelist – my writer’s identity could be used in this field too.

One thing was for sure. Whether I had two tutors or four, I knew I could always rely on them. They understood my Autism caused me problems sometimes, so they were on hand to help me if I was struggling – having your tutor’s email address is always an advantage if you want to avoid feeling stress or pressure in College. All of my tutors were friendly and memorable in their own way. I especially remember Mike and Neil, because Mike was known for liking Jaffa Cakes, and he and Neil had their own catchphrases: “one more time for luck,” and “it’s been emotional,” respectively.

By the end of my second year I felt so close to my tutors and fellow students that I decided to make our group photo the header of this blog (see above). From left to right the people photographed are Emily Bennet (out of shot, see Home Page version); Emma Cooper; Jane Stevenson; Lianna Magnus (crouched); Harpinda Thind; Graham Gladin (crouched); Katherine Kane (pictured); me; Neil Nixon; Thomas Lander (crouched); Scott Barker and Paul Davis.

Overall, my experiences in College were rather mixed: I didn’t have to live on campus – like I thought I would – but I still had to wake up early and travel in on two different buses; I was only in three days a week, but the amount of work I had to do kept me busy almost every day; I understood my assignments most of the time, but I’d always get stressed if I thought I was doing something wrong; my perfectionism allowed me to do well in tasks, but it always took me longer to complete them – especially when I had travelling, driving lessons and other work experience alongside my studies. It was a big problem when my tasks had to be done within a week or a couple of days.

In the beginning, I honestly wasn’t sure if I could handle the pressures of College. Mike noticed me felling this way and asked if I was happy doing the course – I hesitated when I answered, yes. But as time went on, I learnt to deal with things a lot better. And, by staying on the course, I achieved many things I never would have by myself. An article I’d written on Autism was published in an NAS magazine (my first ever publication); I contributed to a book called ‘Successful Studying’ (2013); one of my tasks inspired me to write a children’s book series and I even got advice from Jacqueline Wilson (via email). Plus, our Professional Writing group was the first where none of the students quit the course before finishing and our grades were higher than any of the previous years.

When the second year was done we had an ‘End of Year Show’ where everybody presented something to express how much they’d learnt. Much like this blog, I decided to put together a presentation telling everybody about what I’d been through since Primary School and what my hopes were for the future – it was very well-received.

Little did I know the end of College meant the beginning of a new life at Greenwich University – the most stressful, yet rewarding 24 weeks of my life.

(To Be Continued)

I hope you enjoyed this post. If so then please feel free to check out some of the other material I’ve written for this blog – especially the previous parts on my Primary and Secondary School experiences. If you have any questions then leave me a comment – I’ll be happy to answer them. And, as always, keep an eye out for the next post. Stay tuned.

 

Secondary School and Change (part 2)

Last week, I started talking about change and how it effected me during my early years in secondary school. This week, I will tell you about the rest.

I don’t remember the exact date, but there was one day of school that really put me on track to becoming the writer and blogger I am today.

During my early years, I had no idea what I wanted to do after leaving secondary school. I had some vague ideas about games designing, but it was never something I seriously considered doing. Then, one day, my English teacher read aloud the opening to a mystery novel. I was so intrigued by its descriptions that I wanted to try writing something like it myself. So I began the first draft of my own mystery novel once I got home. That’s when it hit me. For years, I’d had all sorts of fantasies going through my head: stories, crossovers, inventions, etc. And it was all because I had Autism. My condition made me interested in a variety of different things, which gave me a very creative mind. I realised that if I wrote down some of these fantasies, then I could make a great fiction writer. That was the day I decided to become an author.

It’s really ironic how writing ended up being the thing I wanted to do in life, as I’d always hated it in primary school. Just the thought of noting down lots of words was unbearable to me and my teachers often had to show me where to write down to in my text books. I also hated reading because I thought it was strenuous; I lied about the books I read for homework and the only ones I checked out of the library were simple ones for infants. After studying books like ‘Holes’ and ‘Kensuke’s Kingdom’, however, reading became my new passion. The creativity that went into some of their stories only fuelled my desire to write.

However, as an amateur writer my first attempts weren’t very good. My Autism made me a perfectionist to the point where I spent more time correcting what I’d written than actually finishing the story. As a result, I never completed any of my personal projects and they were all shelved. Also, my grammar skills were somewhat lacking; one of my biggest regrets in life was not taking English as one of my sixth form options.

I don’t remember much of what happened between the time I decided to become an author and sixth from. But I do remember wanting to be more independent. I already had some work experience – thanks to my family – and I was able to use public transport by myself. However, I wanted to take charge of my education, too. So in a bold move I decided to stop having TA (teaching assistant) support. This made sixth form the first time since nursery school I had no additional help in any of my lessons.

I didn’t really struggle during my first year of sixth form, because a lot of things stayed the same for me. I was still in the same school, with the same teachers and students. And although I had fewer lessons now, they were all the same, too. Plus, if things ever got too stressful, I still had the comfort of the spectrum base – a room where I could meet with friends and share my love of trading cards, games, etc. However, things took a drastic turn in my final year.

The whole school had moved to a completely new building, to go with them changing from a school to an academy. The new environment didn’t bother me, but I did find flaws in the design of the building: a) there was no area for sixth formers; and b) there was no spectrum base. Without the base I was compGrateletely lost at what to do during my break and lunch times. Since I was so used to the room, the playground didn’t feel like an option for me – how could I possibly interact with people outside when I’d spent 6 years indoors? Also, I actually liked ‘doing’ things in my spare time; I didn’t fancy wondering the playground for half an hour talking to someone about a subject I had no interest in.

It was around this time I started realising just how unsociable my Autism was making me. I was so addicted to my interests that I didn’t have any way of engaging in a conversation without bringing them up. And since very few people shared my interests, it just made talking all the more harder. Even if there had been a place to meet fellow sixth formers, I doubt I would’ve had anything to talk to them about.

With no other option, I decided to spend my break times alone. I’d sit by myself, either reading a book or playing games on my iPad. Sometimes I’d see other students sitting across from me, talking like the best of friends, and I’d feel really envious. Sometimes I desperately wanted to try talking to them and maybe make friends with them. But, I was always nervous about speaking to new people, and I feared they’d just shun me if they didn’t like what I had to say. Plus, what was the point in trying to make new friends if I was graduating in less than a year? So I just kept myself to myself and those students never took any notice of me.

Needless to say, my last year at secondary school was quite a sad and lonely time of my life. I realised that I’d missed many opportunities to make friends outside the spectrum base and I felt miserable because of it. Perhaps that was why my mum and dad had been so insistent on me not spend all my break times in that room; I really did have no way other of interacting with people, except through my interests. This wasn’t just a problem in school either. At home, I started spending a lot more time by myself and not leaving the house – since I had no friends to go out with. My mum was really concerned about this and I almost felt ashamed of myself for making her worry – especially since she’d always been there to support me through the big changes of my life.

Another person who was always there for me was my twin sister. I said in ‘part 1’ that I was grateful she’d come to the same school as me instead of enrolling somewhere else, because it gave me comfort knowing she was there. However, I couldn’t have known just how much I’d come to rely on her in later years. Whenever I got depressed or worried about something she’d always be there to give me advice and make me feel better about myself. She was the Alfred to my Batman, you could say. In fact, in my seven years at secondary school, she was probably the best friend I ever had – not that there’s anything wrong with that.

However, secondary school wasn’t all misery and isolation, for me. There were some genuinely good times I had while I was there, too: I won third prize in a school talent show with a comedy act; my lessons allowed me to develop my creativity, with media, technology and ICT projects. I created a ‘Billie Jean’ music video that was uploaded to YouTube; an assistant head called me a role model for younger students. But most importantly, I was doing better in my lessons than I ever had done I primary school; I wasn’t as easily distracted now and I took every one of my classes seriously. I’d decided to stop having TA support, because I felt I could handle things on my own and didn’t need the extra help so much anymore. And I was right.

Eventually, with hard work and determination (plus a few tears), I managed to earn the necessary qualifications I needed to qualify for a professional writing course at college. Getting into college was by far the greatest achievement I’d ever earned as a student with Autism.

How did Autism play a part in my college life? You’ll have to stay tuned to find out.

Before I finish I just want to say this in conclusion. I think that all schools (both primary and secondary) should have some kind of spectrum base, where students can eat lunch, talk, read, play games, watch DVDs, trade cards, etc. It’s a good way for students who don’t usually speak or interact with anyone to be engaging and discover new friends who share their interests. It also gives students who are anxious or have no one to play with in the playground a place of retreat. However, teachers running these bases should also encourage the students who regularly attend them to use their new communication skills in the playground as well. That way the students will know they have the comfort of the room if they need it, but won’t always seclude themselves in it to the point where the playground becomes like an alien world to them. I learnt this the hard way, but it’s good to have friends both in and out of your comfort zone.

If you liked this post, then feel free to check out my other pieces on this blog. Leave me a comment if you have any questions – I’ll be glad to answer them – and, as always, keep an eye out for the next post. Stay tuned.