I’ve written online, in some capacity, since around 2007. From random MySpace bulletins, to angsty Tumblr posts, from ‘trying to be grown up but I’m really only 13’ LiveJournal entries, to the usual Blogspot/Blogger/Wordpress blog inanity that most humanities students feel compelled to put themselves through. I’ve been there, done that and thought myself Lancashire’s answer to Joan Didion. Then, post-university, the Real World hits you with a th’wack from a 2x4 plank around your head and you quickly learn that your writing isn’t worth shit.

I’ve always wanted to express myself and always known that writing was the best medium. I can’t rely on my speech to sound coherent; there are too many thoughts, disjointed, whirring, too busy to make sense of. I rarely provide context when I speak, I just want to get to the point quickly and succinctly, because there is too much to say. So I settle on writing, to get as many of my ideas across as I possibly can. And to not make such a fool of myself as I tend to do when I yap.

Trouble is that even writing can be cringe. Maybe your core idea is inherently wrong, or not trendy, or maybe offensive to someone. Maybe the way you write is flowery, pompous, above your station. Who do they think they are?

When writing online, I have encountered, at least once, the following:

- bullying for even trying to write or express myself in some way online. This, as you can imagine, happened in high school, and like other high school era experiences, it seems to have left this indelible mark on my psyche forever more. Who do I think I am? Who the fuck cares what I have to say?

- People being offended over what I had written. In the early noughties I wrote sporadically for actual serious media™ that had actual grown-up opinions. I wrote one article with a slight feminist bent to it, about my disdain for a certain industry which pressured university freshers to dress a certain way (I was of course, speaking for myself and my own massive insecurities). I didn’t receive a payment, something which I majorly side-eye now, but it was a bit out-of-this-world to now legitimately say that I wrote for this prestigious publication. Except nothing prepared my wide-eyed 19 year old naive self for the onslaught of grim comments that were left on the article, including, if I’m not mistakenly remembering, at least one threat of violence. It left more than a bad taste in my mouth.

- People suggesting that I have massively overshared in my writing, which is definitely a fair criticism. I found out, a few years ago, that I’m autistic and ADHD, so the oversharing now makes loads of sense. In fact, it’s the reason why I, despite the criticism and bad experiences, have decided to once again return to writing online.

I’m not overstating anything when I say that the autism and ADHD diagnosis explain 99% of the questions I had about myself and my bizarre track record of behaviour. This Substack will act as an exploration tool as I write down the whys and wherefores of my neurodivergence and the affect its had on my life. To save it from the depths of navel gazing, I’m also going to weave in actual research, criticism, and news (neurodiversity is currently having a moment, for better and for worse). My sobriety from alcohol also plays a massive part in understanding my life, so I’ll be writing plenty about how giving up booze has helped me make sense of myself.

So if you fancy a bit of self indulgence, a whole load of neurodivergence, coupled with references to Vine-era memes, then look no further. I hope you can join me.

Until next time,

Ren