Untypical: How the world isn’t built for autistic people and what we should all do about it

by Pete Wharmby

The problem is that my brain is like a busy apartment block where everyone is loud and noisy and horrible, and all of the walls are thin plaster. All of the little nooks and crannies of my mind are assaulted by an endless dirge of noise and activity from other parts of my brain, like trying to sleep while your neighbour – who really loves grime – is having the biggest party of their lives. For short bursts I can keep all of this noise back, bracing myself against it while I try to quietly consider the buds of the cherry tree, but it’s useless, and before long the din and intensity of the rest of my brain bursts through the door with a four pack of beers, screaming. My brain simply never shuts up.