Am I my Innie or Outie?

I recently went to a sci-fi convention filled with geeks all sharing their passions. If someone shouted “Lower Decks!” People from all around the room would join in with a round of “Lower Decks! Lower Decks”. The nichest of references were acknowledged, and if not, they were something new to deep dive into later. Here you were not weird, you were normal and outside was weird. Life made sense here. I was home.

Except I still struggled with human interaction in meatspace. Or, simply put. Barclay and anxiety, in Hollow Pursuits. (A TNG reference in multiple ways. I did say it was a niche event.) To those who have not seen Star Trek: The Next Generation S3E21 - Hollow Pursuits, allow me to summarise. A member of the crew on the USS Enterprise D has trouble talking to people in the real world and finds solace in the fictional world of a holodeck program where he can happily talk to AI characters. Despite working in an environment filled with like-minded people, all happy to discuss their passions, he struggles to make friends. The episode was made in 1990 and according to the writer is a satirical look at Trekkies and their excessive obsession with sci-fi. It is not a healthy discussion on social anxiety and neurodivergent/disabled issues, but oddly does allow some people to see themselves in a show they love and maybe help them figure some issues out.

This was me recently. At an event filled with people sharing my passions, I should have been talking endlessly until they kicked us out of the bar. So why wasn’t I? My wife seemed to make a whole away team-sized group of new friends, and posts on social media the next day from various attendees implied the same. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t make new friends? Loud chaotic environments meant I couldn’t hear and process the words of people next to me, so why even try and talk to them? Warm spaces without seating added to being overwhelmed by sensory issues. Ignoring Long Covid ME/CFS energy issues made me feel exhausted, there was nothing wrong with me and everything wrong with the world.

During lockdown times I took up streaming on Twitch. I sat alone in my studio talking to a video camera about things I loved. This was live-streamed to several people who would watch and engage via a text-based chat room. In an environment I controlled, I happily interacted with people about things I loved without social anxiety. There was time to read the chat, process the information and respond. On a good day, when my dopamine was flowing, I was quick-witted and fun to hang out with. (I think) When lockdown ended and we could return to bars, cafes and private views for social interaction, I returned to sitting in spaces surrounded by people I knew while I played with my phone. Somehow everyone else seems to cope in these spaces, whereas I shut down. Streaming on Twitch proved that it’s not me, it’s the space.

I felt like two people and to use a Severance metaphor, it left me wondering am I my Innie or Outie? Is the Innie Me in a controlled environment the best version of me, or is the Outie Me who struggles to deal with the mess that is life so that they can grow the best version of me? Should I flat-out say no to things because I know I will struggle and feel bad for not making the most of something? Should I only ever exist in a space that enables me? Should the world be better at providing spaces that enable rather than disable? I had these thoughts 14 years ago when I did a photography project for the Look Photo Festival at the Bluecoat. Before that, I wrote poems (really bad poems) about how the internet helped enable me back in the mid-1990s. After 30 something years of looking at this issue through poems and photos, what, if anything, is the answer? Innie or Outie?

While I struggled to chat in chaotic spaces at the sci-fi convention, there were moments of hope. My ADHD was triggered when I saw an interesting person in cosplay. This caused the dopamine levels in my body to rise which helped overpower my anxiety and I came alive. I needed to photograph what I saw, and to do so my Innie Me needed to exist in the outside world. For a brief moment my brain somehow reconfigured itself and I functioned as a perfectly normal person, photographing a cat talking to a Gorn, as one does. While I'll beat myself up for failing to cope in one way, the weekend reminded me that I can function in others. If only this was me all the time instead of for fleeting moments when I need to photograph something. Maybe one day I'll be both Innie Me and Outie Me. The best of both worlds.

Links

• Disney+ unveils accessible mural to celebrate the release of Daredevil: Born Again | RNIB. If you're affected by sight loss, we're here for you
• Resources. We create resources for artists, creatives, producers and the sector to share best practice, insights, toolkits and more. Highlights Browse
• ‘It’s supposed to be intense’: inside the experimental film that ‘truly captures’ autism | Film | The Guardian. It stars a roaming shapeshifter – and a cat-faced soldier fighting a zombie in a swamp. We go behind the scenes of The Stimming Pool, the first ever feature film to be made by a group of autistic directors
• Mud, sweat and deers: a poetic view on gender transition – in pictures | Art and design | The Guardian. Pia-Paulina Guilmoth’s community in rural Maine is not always welcoming to trans women. She deals with the hostility by capturing the local area’s beauty
• Art Activities | Art Therapy.
• International Women’s Day 2025: The Fight For Neurodivergent Women and Girls. It’s International Women’s Day 2025 and gender inequality and health inequalities still have major consequences for neurodivergent women and girls. Whilst there have been changes and improvements (for example, the narrowing…