My blog

Month: December 2025

  • A Magical Evening with A Christmas Carol in Sheffield

    The weather was miserable, very apt and in the spirit with Ebenezer scrooge himself. The beautifully ornate Upper Chapel in Sheffield was the setting for the annual reading of A Christmas Carol. Charles Dickens beloved Christmas tale about a cold-hearted miser who despises Christmas. His redemption by visits from the ghost of Jacob Marley and the ghosts of Christmas past, present and yet to come has become a defining tale of the Christmas holiday. The story published in London in 1843 sees the protagonist transformed into a kinder gentler man. A Christmas Carol has never been out of print and has been translated into several languages, the story has been adapted many times for film, opera, and other media.

    The Upper Chapel.

    The Upper Chapel in Sheffield, is a Utarian meeting place. The Chapel is a Grade II listed building and was founded in 1660 by the vicar of Sheffield, The Reverend James Fisher. After walking through the portico, you are faced with the beautiful vestibule with a tablet on the wall depicts the history of the Chapel. Through the double wooden doors, the serenity overwhelms you, the smell of the wooden pews and the silence leaves you feeling relaxed and peaceful. People are milling about and offering refreshments of hot drinks and mince pies. While everyone seats themselves and the lights go dim. The Dickens Fellowship (Sheffield Branch) introduces the evening, Patrick Smith will present the reading. The fairy lights are twinkling around the Chapel and around the Pulpit. A lone Christmas tree stands by the alter. Patrick strikes a match and lights a candle, signaling the start of the evening.

    Marley was Dead.

    And so it began, Patrick said the opening words… Marley was dead. Patrick’s tone and pace, and pause were perfect throughout, waiting for the appropriate placed giggling from the 100+ audience. During the first half of the monologue, I found myself transfixed, drawn into the story, the atmosphere, the sounds. As if I was the only one in the room. Scrooge met the spirit of Jacob Marley who warned him of the upcoming visit of the three spirits and as the clock strikes midnight the ghost of Christmas past and without any explanation he is whisked away on a journey through Scrooges earlier life. Scrooge is transported back in time reliving his past and reflecting on his mistakes and regrets. Patrick stops and gently blows out the candle; the lights are switched back on. I am brought out of my Dickens trance, and everyone mingles through to the refreshments. Tea, coffee, and mince pies served by friendly members of the Chapel and The Dickens Fellowship. There is an option to donate to the Homeless & Rootless at Christmas (HARC) charity, a seasonal charity that opens its doors each Christmas to provide a safe, warm day shelter for homeless, rootless, and vulnerable people in Sheffield. Over the festive period they offer hot meals, warm clothing, friendly company, and essential wellbeing services- during what can be the coldest and loneliest time of the year.

    The Remaining Spirits Make an Entrance.

    Patrick reappears, the candle is re-lit, and the lights go low. Time for the second spirit, the ghost of Christmas present takes Scrooge to see the happiness and joy of those around him, including his nephew and his own employees. Everyone was hanging on the words of Patrick and the story of Tiny Tim. Finally, the spirit of Christmas yet to come appears to Scrooge and shows him the consequences of his actions and the bleak future that awaits him if he does not change his ways. Each ghost plays a critical role in Scrooges transformation, and their visits leave a lasting impact on him. The story of Scrooge serves as a reminder of the power of redemption and the importance of spreading love and kindness towards each other, especially during the holiday season.

    Patrick blows the candle out for the last time and the audience breaks into a round of applause. Thank you from the fellowship and we all filter into the cold December air. The evening felt lighter after hearing a heart-warming, even romanticised story of Dickensian Christmas.

    A magnificent, thought-provoking performance from Patrick and The Dickens Fellowship (Sheffield Branch), set in the atmospheric Upper Chapel. A wonderful evening for all ages in a grand setting.

    Kayleigh Northall.

    Just Pootling Along.

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  • The Echolalia Quirk.

    also known as the ability to out-do Spotify.

    Echolalia – repetition of words just spoken by another person. Occurring with certain neurological, Neurodevelopmental or mental conditions.

    Echolalia is common with ADHD, Autism spectrum disorder and Tourette’s syndrome. The repetition can be words or phrases. Researchers believe this symptom happens due to frontal lobe dysfunction. This is the area of the brain that manages your thoughts, movements and memory.

    There are three theories relating to this.

     Dopamine dysregulation theory, is where too much, or too little can affect the way your brain tells your body how to communicate.

    The broken mirror neuron theory is where specialised neurons aren’t working as expected.

    The wealth of stimulus hypothesis, is where there is a disconnect between what you learn and how your body responds to it.

    But now for, echolalia and me…. certain words sound and physically feel nice to say, other AuDHDers would say the same.

    PIG.

    Photo by Cats Coming on Pexels.com

    PIG is a word that feels great to say over and over and OVER again. Though PIG feels great for me to say, some people may take offence, if they walk past me in the street. I really have to bite my tongue sometimes.

    Chick, Chick, Chick, Chick, Chicken

    There was an eventful shopping trip once. Whilst packing my shopping at a fast pace (I won’t name the shop), this one particular time, I had bought a pack of chicken breasts. Now I must say that with every item I put in the trolley I had said the name of it in my head. Back to the chicken, well the word “chicken” just seemed to roll off the tongue. It rolled off the tongue in the form off a song and let’s just say it wasn’t an inner monologue. I was in my happy oblivious world of white dancing hippos, fluffy clouds and tiramisu (yum). my husband caught my attention and as the white hippos took their bow, I realised where I was and what I was doing. I apologised profusely and continued packing the trolley, unfortunately I now had naked chickens dancing through rainclouds, going through my head.

    Thank You for the Music.

    Photo by Jepoy Fabian on Pexels.com

    Don’t get me started on songs…. Ok I’ve started. I seem to have a sub library of song lyrics available 24/7 at a moments notice, just call me Spotify on steroids. These can be blurted out at the most inopportune moments. At a male relatives funeral once, the speaker told us that “he always did it his own way” well here we go. I’m sat there head lowered, shoulders jiggling, not with tears but with giggles. Trying so hard not to channel my very own Frank Sinatra.

    Once a lyric is in my head it is repeated like a revolving door on black Friday. Just one line on repeat. I feel like a stuck gramophone. I am just glad I don’t have to pay the royalties.

    You can pick your friends but not your family.

    My family torments me sometimes, especially my adult daughter, knowing there are some phrases that trigger me.

    People of a certain age, ahem…. People who are old enough will understand the next few phrases. When my daughter feels in the mood to see me squirm, she’ll shout “Mother, I need to ask you something”. At this point I’ll stop doing whatever I’m doing and walk to the sound of her voice. “what’s up?” I’ll ask her. And this is where you’ll be old enough to know the answer or if you’re lucky enough not to know, ask your parents.

    with a totally straight face she’ll ask me…. Who lives at the bottom of the garden? My eyes close, and my lips purse as she laughs out loud, I say yep, yes, yeah down at the bottom of the garden, among the birds and the bees, live a lot of little people, called the Poddington peas. The conversations always go the same, but she’ll change the kids TV programme. Mum, where did Mr spoon go? Oh, for heaven’s sake, we’re off to Button Moon, we’ve followed Mr Spoon, Button Moon. Numerous Magic Roundabout quotes, oh Florence. Then here comes the big one…. BBBBbuuuuurrrrrkkkkKKEEEE – don’t you open that trap door, cos there’s something down there! Even as I write this, I’m singing all of these, lets see which one sticks till I fall asleep.

    You can find me by the sweetcorn….

    My life is surrounded by echolalia. I know it, my family know it. If I ever get lost in a supermarket all they have to shout is “der, der, der” and all day, every day I will answer back “Green Giant”.

    I’m predictable and stable with these stims. Sometimes they can be frustrating, but they are harmless. My family torment, but it’s done with love. I don’t have the maths ‘tism, but do I have the ability to remember lyrics, adverts and TV shows from over thirty years ago.

    So here I am signing off.

    Now where did Mr Spoon go?

    Kayleigh x

    Just pootling along

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  • Quirks and other Super Powers.

    and yes I did cringe at writing Super powers.

    As a relatively recent recipient of a diagnosis of Autism and ADHD (AuDHD), wow so many letters after my name. I haven’t written my acceptance speech yet. I was asked to compile a list of traits that I have. Traits, or Quirks as they are called in our house, vary person to person with a diagnosis on the spectrum. Most people with a diagnosis of Autism, ADHD or in this sarcastic world, both (two disorders that are polar opposites of each other), can relate to these traits.

    In these posts I’m going to look at some of my Quirks, can you relate to any of them?. I have an inquiring mind, tell me some of your Quirks. please share any tips and tricks that you use to navigate around them.

    I’d love to hear some of your stories.

    RIGHT, time to stop procrastinating (yep, that’s another Quirk).

    Just pootling along

    Kayleigh x

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  • Understanding AuDHD: My Journey of Masking

    ADHD, asd, autism, AuDHD, biography, bright lights, Chesterfield, complex case, COPING, CRISIS, Derbyshire, ECHOLALIA, LATE DIAGNOSIS, loud noises, MASKING, mental health, neurodiversity, overstimulated, resilient, STIMS, WOMEN

    Living with Autism: My Journey of Masking and Acceptance

    I am a forty-something, female living in the U.K, married with a daughter, I own my own home, I have been to university. I have held down a job. People who know me say they know me. Yet, there is one thing about me that most people do not know.

    This is hard for me. Not a lot of people know about my diagnosis. Some people reading this and who know me will be saying, “NO” she isn’t autistic. She doesn’t look autistic, but ……

    MASKING.

    I mask; I mask everything. I was diagnosed with autism and ADHD at a late age. It was before it became trendy with the tik Tokers of this world. I have masked since being a child. I was aware of this, but I can’t do anything about it. It is not something you can reverse easily.

    I watched people and how they acted. I mirrored them. I watched what they would say in situations. I mirrored them. I thought what I saw on television was how people acted in real life, so I mirrored that.

    I practiced conversations in my head before actually speaking. I have a library in my head for how to act and what to say. I was not being me; I did not know who I was, still don’t.

    Some women put a mask of makeup on before they leave their bedroom. I had to put on an entirely different me. I was a bubbly, friendly, helpful, clever girl. I seemed to grow up with no social anxiety, or so my exterior would have you believe.

    OVERWHELMING.

    Inside I was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, scared and alone. Music was my friend. Everywhere I went, my headphones and Walkman went with me. Here I can retreat from all the thoughts I had. Rapid thoughts of trying to interpret the overwhelming world around me.

    I have always had friendship groups around me. Yet, nothing has lasted throughout my entire lifetime. I have acquaintances—people I recognise with whom I can have those well-rehearsed conversations. I questioned why anyone would want to be friends with me. I didn’t even want to be friends with myself. I felt false and like a fraud, as someone on the outside looking in.

    DIAGNOSIS.

    When I was diagnosed with autism and ADHD, it is now known as AUDHD. I was asked how I felt about the diagnosis. I answered relieved. But, I have a head full of questions. Questions I am still trying to find the answer to, why was this not found before, when I was younger. If I had been diagnosed at a younger age would things of been different. Would life of been easier.

    I was diagnosed at a late age. At the time, I was in a committed relationship and had a fantastic job. I also had a teenage daughter. I had a nervous breakdown. I experienced audio and visual hallucinations. I imagined a tall bald man who wore a long purple coat living in my house. He followed me around and even spoke to me. The problem was that no-one else could see or hear him. This led me to the crisis team in my local area, I was pumped full of drugs and counselling. The drugs got rid of my bald friend. Yet, the diagnosis led to my discharge from the crisis team. It also caused my discharge from the mental health team. I went from having all the help I needed to nothing. Here is your diagnosis. Off you go into the world.

    DAY BY DAY.

    I am learning more and more each day about my disorder; I giggle at my ‘quirks.’ My husband and daughter tolerate me and my ways. I stim (repetition of words, sounds, and physical movements). I experience what I call ‘brain farts.’ During these moments, I don’t have a filter on what I say or when I say it. I have echolalia. I repeat tv and radio adverts and children’s tv programmes. My husband and daughter torment me. All they have to say is ‘who lives at the bottom of the garden.’ I must sing the theme tune to the poddington peas. Along with ‘oh look its Mr spoon,’ I must sing ‘we’re off to button moon.’ We’ve followed Mr spoon and button moon. Do not get me started on the magic roundabout.

    I get over stimulated in situations where there are bright lights, certain smells, loud noise, or too many people. In these situations, I freeze or shut down. There is too much happening, and my brain just can’t compute it. My brain chooses to either fight, flight, or freeze.

    ADAPTING.

    Masking in autism is a complex and deeply ingrained behaviour. It has significantly affected my mental and emotional well-being. Despite facing challenges, I stay resilient. I have learned to adapt and navigate the world with these conditions. The journey of self-discovery and acceptance is ongoing. There are moments of humour and connection with loved ones. Yet, the struggle with overstimulation and social interactions remains. Understanding and support from my family and friends are crucial in helping myself with my autism and ADHD. Learning to manage my symptoms and leading a fulfilling life.

    have you experienced anything similar, if so what are your hints, tips and tricks? how do you help yourself, have you managed to remove your mask completely? let me know your thoughts….

    Just pootling along.

    Kayleigh x

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