Light Up Like a Christmas Tree (17th Nov)
Charity shops make the neurodiverse
Light up like Christmas tree lights.
The reason?
There’s no structure—things are everywhere—
And that’s how a neurodiverse AuDHD brain works.
(I can only speak for this brain wave, as that’s me.)
You see the loving things everywhere.
I can roll around a room,
Roll around a field,
Roll around a forest,
And see all the different things—
And the beauty of the everyday mundane.
Whereas neurotypical people usually look straight ahead—
They see a tree.
They see a flower.
They go to the shop
And see rows of the same clothes.
They’re norms. Normies.
Normal people.
Those clothes are aimed at the normal.
Those clothes are the ones
Everyone should be wearing.
They would, should, could fit that bracket.
But neurodiverse minds don’t work that way.
ADHD people don’t work like that.
Normal is for people who fit—
Where nothing stands out
I light up like a Christmas tree
In a charity shop—
It’s full of things for me
That no one else can see.
When I go to a regular store,
A department store,
There are rows of the same.
My eye just rolls around blocks.
I see no things in between—
No sparkle,
No grace,
No glamour.
No “What’s in that case?”
No “Look at that bag!”
Oh wow—it’s a flower
In amongst a whole load of bric-a-brac.
I see those unique things.
Everybody’s neurodiverse.
Wake-up makeup is not the same
As everyday makeup.
You can YouTube it,
Put on your mask to be the same—
But inside,
We are made up of so many different things.
We have unity,
Yet such individuality.
We cannot be one person,
Even if we inherit the same genes.
We are also different.
We are also unique—
Like a charity shop.
Like a box of chocolates.
I light up.
I come alive.
I bounce.
Light up the neuropath-ways to the brain—
A dopamine hit.
Whilst jumble and clutter trip the happiness,
The storm.
And white empty spaces,
Or the sparkle of the sea—
The calm.
I need to look.
I need to touch.
I need to feel.
I need to not glance around
And see nothing—
Nothing that pulls me to look at that thing.
I am happy in my happy space.
My happy space has always been a charity shop.
It’s not just for good grace.
It’s not just for charity.
It’s for my mindset.
It’s for me.
It’s how my brain works.
It’s my neurodiversity.
Not always true—
Sometimes I stand back and scan,
And that’s enough bandwidth for me.
I can’t be put in a box,
Because no two days are the same.
My constant push-me-pull-you
Makes me react differently,
With some continuity.
But don’t put me in a category—
Because I just won’t fit.
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