Persephone Abbott

Posts from the “Autism” Category

Reflections in Aachen 2025

Posted on May 3, 2025

In 1984 I visited Germany for the first time. Although I didn’t get to visit Aachen in 1984, I definitely wanted to see Aachen. Having read up on Charlemagne during my high school’s medieval history class I well understood the core concepts: throne, crowning, important location.   Instead of Aachen in 1984, I was placed as a summer exchange student in a small town in Westfalia. It was a beautiful town with gabled houses and a medieval ruin. I took walks, but as I was socially not very outgoing, you might say I didn’t “react” well to being in a small town. I started to watch Herz zu Herz (Hart to Hart dubbed in German which is the only way to watch Hart to Hart…

At the Circus

Posted on March 4, 2025

“Ah,” I thought to myself, sitting comfortably in my assigned seat at Le Carré in Amsterdam.  It was a very nice seat at the back of the royal “loge” section in what used to be the circus theatre. The theater is no longer the home of the circus.  * A few years ago I heard Mavis Staples at Le Carré and that was an exceptional experience. I signed up for a “We Are Public” seat (a subscription service to supplement an audience when sales are poor or the venue too big and Le Carré is huge) only to be told when I showed up to collect the ticket, that all the “plonk butts in seats”  tickets were taken. Quite a few disappointed and audibly…

After the Diagnosis: Part Ten

Posted on February 23, 2025

She was a professional and trying to find something to engage me. Something to do with autism that maybe I could elaborate on since I had, in the midst of the ongoing family trauma, indicated to my doctor my suspicion that I could possibly be autistic.  The psychologist and I were facing each other in the basement of my GP’s office. The basement was the lower level of an 18th century canal house in the middle of Amsterdam and the young woman was a psychologist specialized in addiction. I was a mess, but not an addict.  She asked whether I had any special interests.  * Despite the tears and exhaustion, I perked right up. I could tell her about my soap collection. Since she…

After the Diagnosis: Part Nine

Posted on February 15, 2025

“Italian.”  I was surprised. No one had ever asked me to cook Italian food for them.  For thirteen years, before my divorce, I lived in Gouda. During that period I happily made quite a few friends and remain in contact with people. But for professional and private reasons I became closer to one family with whom I still regularly meet up to share stories and home cooking.  * I racked my brain. Italian food. What did I have in my repertoire that would be enjoyable or special? My thoughts wandered off to the time I visited my father’s translator in Bologna. I was living in Paris and needed to escape my apartment because of tensions with an unpredictable roommate. Wearing my roommate’s trench coat…

After the Diagnosis: Part Eight

Posted on February 13, 2025

It’s one of my favorite buildings in Amsterdam and it happens to be called a palace. But the building was not designed to be a palace. Magnificent, Amsterdam’s City Hall was the first Republic building of its sort in Europe. Napoleon, after invading the country, transformed the city hall into a palace and, to this day, the building is retained as a royal residence.  On the occasion of the fiftieth birthday of the King of the Netherlands, the palace – once the celebrated invitees to the state dinner in honor of King Willem-Alexander had departed – was opened to the public. To gain entry all I had to do was sign up online for a timed spot, free of charge. That particular April night…

After the Diagnosis: Part Seven

Posted on February 8, 2025

I was cleaning up dried out cat puke under the piano. I hadn’t noticed it before because I rarely go to the piano. Standing in front of the keyboard, I felt a vague inclination to lift the cover and sit down. This is the first time in three years, or since the beginning of the crisis that led to autism diagnosis, that I have actually almost wanted to play the piano.  For about twenty-five years of my life, I stood on stage and performed as a classical singer. But when I was young and started working in opera companies, I quickly understood that something was wrong. I would crawl home after rehearsals and performances shaking, never comprehending how my colleagues carried on afterwards, going…

After the Diagnosis: Part Six

Posted on January 29, 2025

Sitting in a chair in a room, I took in the news. The room had high ceilings and big windows. There wasn’t a screen or a buzz or any electronic distraction. The mood was not modern, as in a modern life vibe. A plant stood in the corner.  “You have the option,” I heard her say after announcing the diagnosis, “to join a group to learn about managing as an autistic person.”  I said yes. Immediately yes. It’s ingrained in me. I am, afterall, an American. Free health care? It’s a no brainer.  * Sitting in chairs in a large room, we faced the experts who were going to teach us about autism. We were seven autistic people and the experts were not autistic…

After the Diagnosis: Part Five

Posted on January 26, 2025

I would really like to go mudlarking. I daydream about this possibility. Wait, hold up – such a funny word daydreaming. As opposed to night dreaming. I don’t think I have ever dreamt about mudlarking at night. At least I have never woken up thinking that I almost took hold of a miniscule and wafer thin rose farthing only to watch it gently slip out of my grasp by the force of a passing wave as a seagull squawked overhead. (Pan camera angle to grey sky.) Yes, Nicola White’s mudlarking YouTube videos entrance me. Occasionally she finds spectacular things like a whole Roman pot in an estuary, but most of the time the finds are odds and ends. But still items that  can tell…

After the Diagnosis: Part Four

Posted on January 19, 2025

“When will this stop?” I was exasperated. My therapist at the Hersencentrum in Amsterdam looked at me. “You said you did not want medication. Do you want to talk about medication?” * The exasperation on my part was due to my growing acceptance and understanding of the difficulties that I was experiencing just trying to navigate life, trailing the footsteps of a “normal” person and hopefully checking off tasks as I supposedly met my own and society’s expectations.  * Mid-therapy for late diagnosis autism while an active situation involving family trauma was at hand, I decided to take up the challenge to access better suited job openings.  Everytime I turned around a recruiter was trying to sell me a job as an office manager…

After the Diagnosis: Part Three

Posted on January 18, 2025

A love poem. The call was for a love poem. This was more than ten years ago and I don’t write love poems or, more specifically, poems about lovers. I remember I pulled out a few lines I had written in conjunction with a specific plumbing tool, the name to which had engendered some fascination in me. This was back when I was living in my little row house in a small town in the Netherlands and there were more than enough recurring issues concerning the plumbing to enhance my vocabulary. I thought I could tweak those few lines into some type of fathomable love poem and successfully submit it. I was sadly mistaken.  * This is an example of my confusion about romantic…