Then and Now : A Poem

Some words about before and after a late autism diagnosis, originally published on Instagram on 15th March, 2023. 

Hydrangea Head by Me

But first, having been absent from this space for much longer than I’d realised, I feel some other words are necessary before I get to the poem.

I have to be honest, I only came back here to show one of my angel fish an example of a free blogging platform. Mission accomplished, and having reacquainted myself with some of my published content, I realise I’d missed being here and I wondered what I’d write about now, on this platform.

Publishing my poem ‘Then and Now’ (2023) seemed a fitting piece to return with, given the literal title. Older blog posts were then, and this is now, even if my 2017 diagnosis, and writing about it, is actually old news.

Talking about diagnosis generally is timely, too, because the UK government recently published Professor Peter Fonagy’s Independent review into mental health conditions, ADHD and Autism (9th October 2026).

This post is not about that report, or its findings, but, given some inaccurate, misleading and potentially harmful UK mainstream media headlines, I don’t feel comfortable mentioning the review without reiterating a couple of important points from it, for the record:

• Autism and ADHD are not being over diagnosed: the increasing numbers reveal a previously under-reported prevalence level; and
• In the review, Fornagy says “The government must address two failures at the same time: People wait far too long for support, diagnosis and treatment; and, Diagnosis has become the primary gateway to support that could and should be available earlier”.

That said (but not done with), here is my poem:

Then and Now

Then:

I observed life through a wrong lens

An uncomfortable misfit

Not realising I, and everything I viewed, was distorted,

  blurred and out of focus

My way-of-being out of sight, and out of mind

Forcing me out of my own mind

Consumed by it

On the edge and on the periphery

Stumbling in the dark, confused, haunted

Dragging heavy box after heavy box

Mislabelled

Attentive yet naive

Logic misguided

Lunging awkwardly forward,

  seeking recognition in the wrong spotlights

Shrinking and sinking in perceived failure,

  missing the mark

Predator magnet

Slapped into stupor by undetected mistreatment

Disappointing Mr Normals, A Few Good Men,

  disappearing to the repetitious beat of ‘but’…’but’…’but’

It’s not you, it’s me

Speaking a different language

Thinking this was usual

Now:

I observe life through a neurodivergent lens

A snug comfortable fit

A purposeful laser-light of brilliant insight

Refracted with pin-point accuracy

Setting fire to the tattered, scratched up surfaces of a

half century life  

Scarred yet alive

Raking through the ashes of past experiences,

An autopsy of old evidence re-examined

Unexpected chaos from neurons racing to recalibrate

Lightbulb moments festooning the dark

Relabelling

Attentiveness enlightened

Logic guided

Like the phoenix rising,

reborn and redefined  

Cloaks of many colours discarded

for newly arranged multicoloured feathers  

Mascarade over

Reacquainting myself with me

The real, authentic me,

appearing to the reaffirming anthem of ‘This is Me’  

 It’s not me, it’s you

Native Autistic talking my language

Embracing my difference

S.L. 03/2023

Then and Now | An Affinity With A