It seems to me now that it’s not that I fail to manage the simplest challenges, but that I pass too well. I am addicted to passing, and not just in the sense of going unnoticed. I want more than that. I want to be well adjusted to the point of inspiration, hyper-normal. I want to be everyone’s favourite. I don’t care about the cost, the way it brea

affectation

hardy

When I spoke, they all reeled out of me, those words I’d imbibed, in one continuous ribbon. Over time, I realised that my fluency alarmed people. It was pleasurable to me, but for them it was a torrent gushing out, an inundation. I learned, eventually, to disrupt myself with pauses and pretend uncertainties, to back-fill inflections that didn’t com

charge of Bert’s anger next to me.

‘You are a quitter,’ says Emma. ‘Always have been. It’s one of your endearing qualities. You know when to give up.’ ‘Like when I leave the last mouthful of dinner,’ I say. ‘I’ll never understand that. Never.’ We look down at the table, where I have left one-eighth of a flapjack. ‘I just didn’t want the last bit,’ I say. I consider eating it now, to

palpating

maudlin,

you can strongly relate to the experiences of autistic people, and have similar stories of your own to tell, then you are very likely autistic too, and you should have confidence in that comparison,’