Éimí Mhic an Ridire

I'm autistic. But I don't fit the tidy boxes people like to use. Some days I can work on open source projects, tinker with my beloved G3 iMac, or hold a conversation about European politics. Other days, I don't leave the bed or get dressed. On those days my wife — who is also my carer — helps me wash, change, eat, and communicate. She makes sure food is "finger food," because cutlery is too much. Sometimes my speech is gone entirely and I rely on AAC or picture cards.

That's my reality: variable-functioning autism. My support needs change. The high/low labels don't capture that — if anything, they erase it.

Good days vs. hard days (both are still me)

I'm the same autistic woman on both days. The difference is visibility, not validity.

Why "high/low functioning" labels are harmful

When people meet me on a good day, they decide that's the "real" me and expect permanence. When I describe my harder days, some flat-out don't believe me. My functioning isn't a fixed point. It moves with stress, health, sensory load, and context. This disbelief is exhausting.

The UK & Ireland reality

I'm an Irish woman living in Scotland. Support for autistic adults here — and back home in Ireland — is close to non-existent unless you hit crisis. I've been on the waiting list with Royal Cornhill Hospital in Aberdeen since June 2022. It's now August 2025 — over three years — and no meaningful help has been offered to me or to my wife as my carer. That isn't a system; it's abandonment.

What I need people to understand

• I'm not "high-functioning" or "low-functioning." I'm autistic every day.
• My wife is both my partner and my carer — even on good days.
• Believe me when I say my needs vary. Disbelief is exhausting.
• Talk about support needs instead of ranking people.

A small call to action

Looking ahead

I'm happy with the way my wife and I navigate this life together — on the bright days and the brutal ones. I'm learning to drop the shame and embrace practical solutions. That's not giving up. That's dignity — choosing support that fits the life I actually live, so I can spend less time surviving and more time coding, tinkering with vintage Macs, learning Irish, and building the accessible tech world I want to see.