My name is Jane. I’m an American tech professional in my fifties, recently diagnosed with autism and ADHD. CRACKMEATJUICE is a place for me to messily explore what this diagnosis means, and how to heal myself from half a lifetime without an accurate map to my brain.
content warning: adult language and situations, honest talk about mental health, disappointment
From the blog
The Black Box and the Clunky Stack (on asking for help at work)
Imposter syndrome kills, kids. Proximity isn’t causality. And autistic masking doesn’t have to include taking on the burden genuine systemic problems alone.
I see you, rules. Let’s play.
My relationship with communication has been heavily colored by autism: mastering the rules of engagement, wondering at advice I don’t understand. By exploring constrained writing, I can examine and begin to master the unexamined restraints that happen in ordinary communication.
This is my brain on drugs.
My ADHD/ASD brain is like a badly-wired tesla coil – sparky, unpredictable, and potentially destructive. After a month of Adderall, how fares my sparky brain?
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Jane
She/they/dude. #Feminist. Neurodivergent (ASD/ADHD). Queer. Leftist. Bag of agitated spiders. FUCKING DELIGHT. Eats cheese. Makes music. Writes horror.
My name is Jane. I’m an American tech professional in my fifties, recently diagnosed with autism and ADHD.
CRACKMEATJUICE is a place for me to messily explore what this diagnosis means, and how to heal myself from half a lifetime without an accurate map to my brain.
CRACKMEATJUICE 