Living with Neurodivergence and a Shopping List.
I avoid going to the shops. I buy what I can online, but I have to go out to get fresh fruit and vegetables and items that Sainsbury’s doesn’t have online. I have to wait for a good/okay day before I can go shopping. Sometimes I can’t tell if it’s a good day. Sometimes I have to go to my local in an emergency, and that creates even more distress.
Going out takes prep for me. It never used to be this bad. It got worse after repeated abuse, trauma and re-traumatisation coupled with resurfacing of historical childhood trauma. I used to be high functioning. I used to work several jobs alongside running my own Yoga business. It all collapsed, and quite frankly, the reason for that collapse was the lack of trauma-informed support, systemic failures, misspelling, control, coercion and narcissistic abuse.
But that’s a story for another time. Some of you might remember things I wrote in 2020. I’ll revisit these themes at a later stage.
I need to be in the correct frame of mind and have good physical health to go out and do something as simple as buying something from the shops. I often experience executive dysfunction, sensory overwhelm, physical strain, internalised guilt, impaired Interoception, hyper-vigilance, sensory sensitivity, self-judgement, trauma activation and emotional flashbacks.
Today I went to the shops. I didn’t take extra bags. I knew I should have, but didn’t. As I approached the shops, I kept grounding and centring myself because I was getting internally reactive towards the crowds. Smile and breathe is the golden method. And don’t engage. Look and walk the other way if conflicts arise. Pray that the manager or security guard will follow the law today and leave you and Radha alone.
I do the shop. Things are going well. Except, Holland & Barrett fucked up my order and sent it to Mare Street, Hackney. That triggered me because it’s a few minutes away from where the predator landlord lives, and that’s where I got raped. I’m annoyed that I can’t just hop on a bus and go there myself. Mare Street would be nice. There’s an antique shop I like there. Relax. Breathe. Maybe I should try it. No! I already had memories of the Hackney Sikh and the police failures before I left the house. Not a good idea. Stick to the plan.
Pay for the shop. I overdid it again. Bought too many treats for Radha. I’d better eat all this veg. I didn’t ring up the sweet potatoes. Whatever. Just eat the fucking veg. I remember my friend called. They asked how I was. I said I was at the shops. They said they were proud of me. That made me feel good.
The water bottle falls. Fuck. Leave it. Someone bends to pick it up. There’s water all over the floor now. It’s by my feet. It looked like I pissed myself. The couple sat across from me, staring. The woman gestures to the man as if to say – she xxxx herself. I feel like saying out loud that I did xxxx myself just for the xxxx of it. They look at me, then at Radha. An older lady comes to stand near me. She sees the liquid on the floor. Looks at me. Looks at Radha. Looks at my dress. She’s trying to work out if I xxxx myself. Oh, for xxxx sake. Let them think you xxxx yourself. I feel like pulling the alarm and telling someone to help dry it up. But I don’t. I get off at the next stop.
Thank xxxx. That was intense. Sensory overwhelm and the rest of it. Mind racing. Bag heavy. At least I’m out of the xxxx now. Stairs. Mother xxxx. Why did I not ask for extra xxxx bags? We spoke about this before, the lady at the shop and I. We discussed slowing down and preventing meltdowns, among other things. The woman on the train says there’s a lift to the side. Thank goodness! A kind stranger. The rest of the xxxx left on the train going to Camden are too young to understand. And too poor. Or poorich. Whatever. Just chill. You’re on benefits, girl. Relax.
Finally, I get home. Back and legs are sore now. Typical. Unpack the groceries. Unpack my mind. I should have got the extra xxxx bags. Remember next time.
And then … rumination time!
Catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look xxxx hot today. Yum!
So, what happened today? Let’s unpack this from a Neurodivergent and trauma-informed perspective. A brief reminder that I have a diagnosis of BPD, ADHD, ASD, CPTSD & Anxiety. Yes, the underlying cause for all of this is trauma, but also, especially where it concerns ASD, my brain is wired differently, and it will always be different.
Executive Dysfunction (ADHD/ASD):
- I thought about bringing extra bags, but didn’t follow through.
- I knew midday was a bad time to travel, but couldn’t shift or revise the plan.
- I didn’t act on the thought to ask for help or buy a second bag when the opportunity was right there.
This isn’t laziness. It’s the brain’s struggle to prioritise and initiate tasks, especially under stress.
Impaired Interoception (ASD/CPTSD):
- I didn’t realise how much strain I was putting on my body until it was too late.
- I couldn’t feel in real time that the bag was too heavy.
- I couldn’t assess or act when pain, sensory input, and internal signals were screaming at once.
This is why I spiral after the fact — because I don’t always register the cues during.
Fawn/Freeze Trauma Response (CPTSD/BPD):
- I apologised when I wasn’t sure I’d done anything wrong.
- I used a tiny, childlike voice when asking for help.
- I didn’t speak up when I could have — I defaulted to pleasing, avoiding, or making myself small.
These are survival adaptations from a life of being punished for having needs.
Hypervigilance + Sensory Sensitivity (CPTSD/ASD):
- I scanned constantly for stares, smells, sounds, and potential conflict.
- The xxxx smell, the water spill, the man’s silence, the woman’s look — all felt like threats.
- I didn’t have my headset. The noise became unbearable. My nervous system couldn’t regulate.
I experience the world too much, too fast, and too loud. It’s exhausting.
Self-Judgement Loop (BPD/CPTSD):
- “Why do I always xxxx this up?”
- “I should’ve brought the bags.”
- “It must’ve been something I did.”
This is not rational thought — it’s internalised blame from years of being made to feel like the problem.
Trauma Activation & Emotional Flashbacks:
- I had flashbacks before leaving the house — to the rape, the police, Hackney, and old memories of public humiliation.
- A minor trigger (like the shop order going to Mare Street) sent me back in time.
- My system can’t tell the difference between past and present when the body remembers danger.
The trauma lives in my nervous system, not just my memory.
Misogyny and Ableism Have Left Scars:
- When I collapsed in Asda once, a man said he was “embarrassed for me.”
- When I looked overwhelmed on the train, people judged instead of helping.
- When I ask for help or show distress, people treat me like I’m broken, dramatic, or unstable.
Women — especially traumatised women — are expected to suffer silently and still be nice about it.
It’s not just “a trip to the shops.” It’s a full-blown operation.
It’s a system of mental gymnastics, emotional labour, spiritual endurance, and physical strength.
And today, I did it. I xxxx did it.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for witnessing. This post is for anyone who’s ever been told they’re too much — or not enough—for simply existing in a world not built for them.
With love.
Karmic Rebelle