Stressful Journeys

The thought of travelling to a place beyond walking distance of home, and not (or no longer) having economically or logistically viable means of getting back is too heavy for a lot of us to think about. Yet it is a very real concern for me and many others — not least those without a full driving licence — who have a generous roster of family members including grandmothers, aunties, cousins, you name it, to whom public transport is oftentimes a sidelined, yet underestimated strongman in holding up the weight of independence.

I have made preparations, probably more substantial even than those of many sceptics, for the sad worst case scenario of being refused entry or asked to leave, because I decline under absolutely any circumstances to comply with mask tyranny. So I will do my best not to be anxious about anything. As a subject of high-functioning autism though I can’t just spontaneously waltz onto a train or bus, especially not under today’s circumstances, without having a good idea of how I will be travelling, where I will end up, and who I will be expected to meet or what sort of endeavours await me on the other end.

My prayer rests with all ‘neurotypical’ people, equally and fairly in proportion with autists, the deaf or hard of hearing, unfortunate domestic violence victims, and indeed everyone else who is, has been, or ever will be on planet Earth. No one should be compelled or coerced to degrade themselves with a muzzle. No one should feel stress or suffer from a low mood. No one deserves a government as ruthless as Westminster. Everyone deserves to feel happy, in control, and able to pave a path that works for them and their born and unborn descendants.

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