Tomorrow I start a 3.5 week long incarceration of sorts. My mother-in-law who lives in a glamorous GILF annexe on the side of our house has just departed for the airport for a holiday. Husband is around evenings and weekends obvs and my lovely parents aren’t far away but I shall miss the opportunity to escape for five minutes at the drop of a hat.
I have got into a routine of giving my husband a lift to the station each morning and daughter hangs out with Nanny.
I stretch this into a 20-or-so minute drive around our neighbourhood on a faux commute, watching all the so called normal people stressing out on their way to school and work.
It sets me up for a day of playing Minecraft.
Over the last 10 days, surreptitiously checking my emails, blog stats and comments in response to ‘I Stand Quietly’ has fast become a beloved habit, nay addiction.
Daughter cannot leave the house therefore, whilst Nanny is away, it is only with some planning that I can leave the house. It’s OK, we have Ocado.
I admit that with not much other adult contact likely over the next 3.5 weeks, I was thankful and relieved that at least I could “speak” to people via ‘I Stand Quietly’.
However it looks like we may have reached the top of the bell curve. We have maybe exhausted the furthest reaches of the friends of my friends of my friends and the rate of new visits/visitors and new comments are now slowly dropping.
I know. I should be grateful for everything that I have achieved so far. Today I reckon we will reach 250,000 views on my blog. We might also reach £6,500 in donations against a revised target of £1,000 that was originally set at £250.
It is incredible and I am thrilled. But in context of my own mental health over the next 3.5 weeks confinement – and still many days until April 2nd, World Autism Awareness Day at the end of awareness week – I seriously CANNOT let this peak too soon.
PLEASE HELP ME.
If you know someone in London who you are not friends with on Facebook, or who rarely uses it: email them, text them, tell them. There’s over 8 million people in London, someone surely will write a comment for me.
Everyone in the UK has probably got Comic Relief fatigue so if you know someone in the USA or Canada, email them, tell them to tell all of their friends. There are loads of people in the USA. A lot of them, I hear, are quite sentimental and schmaltzy: email them, text them, tell them. I am bound to get someone who’ll comment me.
If you know someone who speaks French, Spanish, German, Mandarin for all I care, ask them nicely if they would translate ‘I Stand Quietly’ for me (for free please) and then we can spread the word through the non-English speaking world too… even if I don’t understand it, a comment in Swahili will still be exciting to read.
If you know a celebrity of any alphabetical listing from A to Z, if you are their lawyer or cleaner, dentist or dog groomer. Mention it to them, please. Ask them for one of their super valuable retweets.
Even if your relationship with said celebrity only extends to nodding and trying to act nonchalant at the gate of the private school you are grafting your arse off to keep your kids in, think of me dragging my half-naked barking beauty around Waitrose and bite down on any embarrassment you feel and tell them. As my Mum says, “WE ALL POO.”
Do it for everyone who needs #autismawareness and candidly DO IT FOR ME.
Thank you if you have already shared ‘I Stand Quietly’, all I can say to you is: I have no shame, and trust me it is eventually liberating, please can ask you to temporarily ignore your own fear of feeling ashamed and share again.
Give the URL to strangers on tatty bits of paper, ask your boss if you can do a company-wide email, anything please!
Don’t leave me frantically refreshing my screen in panicked silence or one day when husband comes home from work he may find the daughter left unattended and me up the end of the garden: dirty, naked and happy, talking to a tree stump, believing I am a snail.
You don’t believe me? Seriously – I have form.