Neurodiversity: a beautiful poem by Marie Richardson

I find it impossible to classify

The emotions that take over my mind

So it’s left then to be misinterpreted

By people that pretend they’re wordsmiths

With all their fancy diagnoses

But they don’t really even know me

And does anybody know the real me

Because I’ve been so scared of rejection I’ve hid her so expertly

So this one is for all the doctors that labelled me as crazy

For the meltdowns that occurred almost daily

When there was change and disruption to regular routines

The real reason why remaining unseen

Calling me names like “manipulative” and “attention seeking”

Actually, attention was the last thing I needed

But I took that on, believed it to be true

Punished myself, turning myself black and blue

Smashing my head against the wall until I bleed

My black eyes standing out, drowning in a sea

Of faces I don’t recognise

And there’s never a time I can switch off inside

Overcompensate by overexplaining

To try to stop the overthinking

Paying the price for other people’s ignorance

When all I needed was a little bit of reassurance

And I leave everybody wondering why the medication never works

Or therapy just made me worse

It’s only now it’s recognised

The reason I struggled all those times

Is because I’m autistic and have ADHD

And you cannot cure neurodiversity

Missed as a child by them,

Because I was just seen as shy and I didn’t cause problems

In a way that was visible

Until the pain got too much and I lost all control

Became impossible to cope in a world that isn’t set up for me

Took years to learn to manage with creativity

Still, I wonder how nobody else can see

The patterns that form inside my mind

Amid the chaos of every day life

The juxtaposition is unnerving

Racing thoughts keep on swirling

Because I get stuck when the world feels too loud

And my mouth clamps up, can’t make a sound

Can’t communicate in the same way

As I would do any other day.

So I’ll focus and fixate on the little things that make sense

To give my head just a little bit of rest

Some respite from the place I find myself in

Where I can’t be myself out of fear I won’t fit in.

Stop. Breathe. Count in 3s.

Tap my face to calm the anxiety

Finger flick to pass the time

And I’m sorry but can you just repeat that line?

I was trying to listen but my brain went on

A little journey of it’s own and now it’s singing a little song

Now I need to get music blasting in my headphones

I know my social anxiety means I’ll end up alone

But it’s busy and loud and I feel out of place

While others feel quite comfortable filling that space

I struggle with noise sensitivity

It’s like I can hear the electricity

Crackling in the background of every interaction

Would be so damn nice if I could hear just a fraction

Less. So I’ll stop. Take a deep breath. Count in 3s

Find somebody’s hand to squeeze

Because the walls are closing in and now I can’t breathe

Silence takes over, vocal chords paralysed

Can only communicate when I type

And nobody likes that I don’t match their vibe

So I’m left to cry quietly on the sidelines.

My anxiety, a chronic battle of somebody who’s labelled with neurodiversity

Can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on my broken body

It’s no wonder there’s time where I can’t speak

And I can’t help wondering, “is this really a problem with me?”

Or a problem with society?

Because I know I am only disabled

By the places I venture to not doing enough to enable

Me to feel safe, they’ll label me as the issue

Rather than admit there’s something they might need to do

Because unless you’re the autistic genius portrayed on the TV

You’re seen as just a weirdo who struggles socially

So the problems become a battle I face internally

Nobody wanting to love the real me

When I started self-harming to cope at the age of 12

I was seen as just another sad little girl

And not somebody who has trouble adapting to the world

If I could go back to her, I’d do it in a heartbeat

Because thinking you’re broken, it damages the psyche

Creating a lifelong battle with insecurity

Stuttering out the words “I wasn’t intending to be mean”

Or rude. Or blunt.

Or to talk over you but

I was just so excited for you to hear my point

And now you’re all staring at me like I’ve lost the plot

Which I kind of did, because now I can’t remember

The question you asked to kick start this interaction

Spent all my time learning to mask and blend in

Spent so many years studying

Other people and how they behave

So I could do exactly the same

Master of camouflage, can navigate any social situation

And go unnoticed for my quirks, or for messing up the conversation

Sometimes I desperately want to be “normal”

But this isn’t mental illness or something hormonal

Words often used to describe

A woman when she looks like she’s losing her mind

Because if a woman struggles with emotional regulation

It must be something that needs medical attention

My brain is exhausting, but it’s the only way I can be

It’s just a different way of thinking you see

This little thing they call neurodiversity.

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Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful insight Marie!