Feminist woman-child, mid-thirties, dual-diagnosis, co-morbid (or just plain ol' morbid), lack-lustre, under-eating, over-acting, under-achiever… Oh who I am kidding - I was trying to be clever but now I'm just making up words.
My invisible buddy Asperger's (Aspie for short) has an imaginary friend who brought some uninvited guests to the party that nobody else showed up to. Like some kind of gentrified Hackney warehouse collective (or a twatty girl band) they’re known as Borderline Personality Disorder, or 'Lucy' as I like to call them.
I'm in no way brave; I'm merely laying careful groundwork to prop up the many failures I expect to need excuses for eventually.
If you want a strawberry daiquiri, you're in the wrong bar love.