About Bob Christian

Aspie, Poet, Author. Creator of Behind the Mask, Scribblology, Alexithymia & (Re)Mixtapes

New Beginnings

I’m sure that those of you who follow my ramblings will be interested to hear that I took the decision earlier this year to leave the service industry after 7 1/2 years. This was mainly due to Covid-19, and also some unrelated health issues. It was not a decision that I took lightly, and it was made after quite an amount of careful thought, consideration and discussion with Mrs Bob. However, it was, as it turns out, a decision that was made for the best.

While I do miss working within the service industry and with friends and regularS who became friends over the years, it was definitely time to move on to other things.

I spent the months during lockdown with Mrs Bob, and we got along brilliantly. It was almost like being retired, without being old crotchety and grumpy … wait, no, we had all those things – well, I did, anyway. During the first lockdown, I applied for a high number of positions within the engineering sector.

After nearly 200 applications, I was beginning to lose faith, and feared that I would end up back behind a bar once this whole pandemic was over. This was not something that I was keen on, and Mrs Bob was in agreement. Just when I had started to give up hope that I would be able to find something that suited me, I had a call for an interview at a company in Exeter. The company concerned sells mobility scooters and aids, as well as electronic equipment. It has a workforce that is mainly made up of people with various disabilities, which I was very interested to find out. After a successful interview, I was asked to go in for a quick trial, to see if I enjoyed the job that they had on offer and that I could do it.

I’m pleased to say that I was offered the job last month, and have been working there for three weeks. I have fitted in very, very well, and thoroughly enjoy it. It’s so nice to work in a place where, as a disabled person, I am not the odd one out. I don’t have to wear a badge that identifies me as disabled, just so that I get treated fairly, decently and with some respect. I am very happy there, and to be completely honest, I think I may have found my forever job. It’s a great team – very friendly and welcoming, and I’m so relieved.

I’d like to take this opportunity as well now to say a very big thank you to Mrs Bob. She said that I should hold out for the right job, and not rush into to an agency position, and she was right. She usually is, as she keeps telling me!

Thanks to Mrs Bob and all my friends and family who have shown me support and love during the first lockdown. I hope that as we enter lockdown 2, each and every one of you are taking the necessary precautions to stay safe and well. I hope your attitude stays positive and your results remain negative.

Stay very safe



By Bob W Christian

Please don’t worry, this isn’t written about me, it’s about a close family member.

My morning coffee.
Unlike me, is strong.
I say morning, actually
It’s when I come round.
After another of those,
Unforgettable nights.
I just can’t remember.

Strength, something
I lost years ago. Now
A way of measuring.
How much solution,
Is poured out. While
Revisiting the regrets.
In this endless story.

I’ve told anyone who’d
Listen. While continually
Poisoning myself, slowly,
Desperately. Fighting the
Inevitable. One last shot,
To stop my life, becoming
A sad statistic of addiction.




by Bob W Christian

So many memories left here.
Photos – a snapshot of you.
Pieces of paper, scattered.
Your essence lingering on,
Haunting this old house.

Reading your scribbled words:
Always thought this moment
Would come without warning.
Waiting for the right time could
Take forever, you see.

We both know it’s been coming
For a while now. It’s not you, it’s
Me. It’s kept me awake trying to
Tell you. I’ve been scared for a
Long, long time now.

I can’t understand how we can
Forgive each other, for words not
Spoken until it’s too late, while trying
To move forward with our lives.
What would Social Media say?

How can someone be around one
Minute, then disappear? How do I
Cope with the disappointment of all
The things I didn’t accomplish?
It‘s best I go. All my love always.

The end, then? Or a beginning?
A whole new chapter in your life?
Left, wondering. Searching for
Clues. Will I ever know
The end of your story?




By Bob W Christian

If this place could talk,
The stories it would tell!
Trapped within these
Walls for their eternity,
Gliding along corridors.

Pictures gathering dust,
Snapshots of the past.
This gallery of memories,
Life frozen, doomed to be
Repeated on an endless loop.

Voices call to me from
Empty rooms. Ghostly
Echoes from the past.
Whispers from beyond
My reality, now falling silent.

Memories, emotions,
Regrets. Forever
Haunting me.


Panic Disorder

“Panic Disorder”

By Bob W Christian

I’d like to say hello, old friend of mine.
You’ve given me so many nightmares,
Waking up sweating, dark and horrific
Memories stuck in my head on repeat.
Try as I might, can’t erase or forget them.

I’m supposed to be a grown-up now
Not scared to be home alone inside
My head; that’s when it’s the worst.
Your images haunting me over the years.
We’ve grown up together side by side.

Even tried evicting you a few times.
You’re back in, throwing your friends
A pity party. I can’t remember the first
Time, you attacked; that knife in my gut,
Fingers on my neck, stopping my scream.

Still, you’re my oldest companion. I’ve tried
Staying awake, hoping you’d sleep before
Me. Tried drowning – you’ve learnt to swim.
Waiting for your return … I guess then
With us, it’s ‘till death do us part.


Here lies

“Here Lies”

By Bob W Christian

I remember the day that
Time, like your life,
Stopped. Your body,
Laid out like your

Paragraphs of your
Life for all to read.
Documenting the lies
The excuses, the games,

Hide and seek champ
37 years running
Away. Stretching
Truths, ducking all

When it’s my time,
I’ll can rest in peace
knowing, I may be no
angel. Still, I’m nothing
Like you.

(c) BobChristianpoetry


By Bob W Christian.

Misplaced. Stashed. A collection
There’s a use for everything here –
Lost but never forgotten.

It’s here somewhere, Amongst
Ceiling-high papers, seemingly
Empty boxes, or In a cupboard.

Searching room by room, almost
Drowning in a labyrinth of memories.
It’s here somewhere, I know it is.

I can’t dispose of it, I might
Need it one day. Until then it
Sits with the rest, gathering dust.

Memories, heartache, evidence of
Past mistakes stack up Hoarding
Emotions, never letting go of pain.

No longer needed, still I’m unable
to discard them. Until they’re too much –
Crashing over, pulling me under.

It started way back in high school. A break
up, losing a loved one. I
Kept them all, not wanting to lose anything.

Ever again, no matter what, how ever
Much it hurt. But it’s time let go now. To Spring
Clean – declutter, before it’s too late.

(C) BobChristianpoetry

Time, Gentlemen, please …

I’ve spent most of the last decade trying to make a career in an industry in which, let’s be frank, someone on the autism spectrum like me probably doesn’t belong.

Working in customer-facing roles in hospitality, has pushed me way out of my comfort zone, and at times it’s been a huge struggle. Sometimes I’ve been pushed to the point of physical and mental exhaustion, especially during the extremely busy times in summer, But I’ve never given up – I have kept trying and I’ve worked hard at trying to understand all the subtle social stuff: facial expressions, workplace politics and all the things that your average neurotypical person seems to find so easy to understand.
I am proud to say that during my time in this demanding industry, I’ve managed to hold managerial positions. The thing with being in that type of position is that I find some things very difficult.
One – the hours: I’ve been at work for an average of ten and half hours a day, five days a week, always working evenings and Bank Holidays, and often, weekends too. This may not sound much, but when you’re constantly having to socialise – or to “people” as I like to put it – this can be incredibly draining.

Two – the “Peopling” itself. I pride myself on being able to interact with the public – trying to understand them and the subtle hints they drop about things. It’s another thing entirely to spend all day trying to mask and pass yourself off as neurotypical. It makes it even harder when you find that customers have left reviews commenting on my inability to hold eye contact or taste the beer myself (as I’m coeliac and therefore allergic to wheat and barley).
Three – I find it difficult to understand some rather fluid rules. Normally rules are easy to follow. It’s not hard to understand that if you drive drunk, you’ll be arrested and lose your license. But some rules in the hospitality trade seem to be very flexible, and if you get it wrong, it can be a massive deal. Rules that apply to most customers, don’t apply to regulars, or those who the owners know and like. It’s like saying that on certain days, or in a particular coloured car, speeding is acceptable, but those special days and colours can change, without warning. That’s how I feel when I’m told we have certain rules then I’m expected to be able to know when and who those do and don’t apply to. I think even a neurotypical would struggle with this.

All of these things cause me to realise that maybe I would be better in a role where there are set (but not too many) hours, and the rules apply to everyone and everything. I think I could also do better in any given job if people above me were not just aware I’m autistic, but also know how to manage it and maybe even help me develop. I can show them what qualities and positives someone on the spectrum can bring to the table.

So, in light of the current pandemic situation, and the fact that both Mrs Bob & I are at high risk due to lung issues, I’ve made the difficult & emotional decision that it’s time to call last orders on this chapter in my life. It’s a time I will look back on with great nostalgia and a sense of accomplishment that I’ve managed to achieve things that years earlier I would have never thought possible.

I would like to thank those people who took a chance on me and allowed me to show them (and myself) what I am capable of.
It’s time now for a complete career change, and possibly a return to my science and aerospace engineering background. I’m not sure yet. So stay tuned and above all…
Stay Safe X

Credit where it’s due

If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you’ll know that I write scribbles, or – as some people call them – poems. I have produced four anthologies so far.

  • Behind the Mask (2010 & 2014)
  • Scribblology V2 (2018)
  • Alexithymia (2019)
  • (Re)Mixtapes (2020)

Alongside these, I’ve written a few other scribbles and have ghost written some, not because they’re terrible, but because there are times when I want to say things or touch on subjects that my regular readers might not like or appreciate. I’ve also submitted pieces for online and written articles, and have been interviewed several times, once for a book about autistic adults. I’ve performed live, too, and this is something I find very scary; if I’m honest, I can’t eat or sleep properly for a couple of days before a gig and I usually have to wear sunnies to help with stage fright. But it’s a small price to pay to help promote my work, and even more importantly, to raise awareness of autism.

One thing I still find very difficult to deal with is complimentary comments about my writing. Mrs Bob will always tell me honestly what she thinks about my work; if it’s not as good as it could be, she’ll say so, and I value her input. She’s my second biggest critic (after myself) so I don’t tend to pay much attention to her praise, if I’m honest (sorry princess) It’s when I get members of the public saying nice things about my work that I struggle.

So imagine my shock and surprise when I got this message from someone who’s read my last book. “Mate that’s your best book yet!! 🤙🏼 I read some to the Mrs and she really liked them too.” “Honestly mate it is your best work. So many of them are very relatable and that helps.”

This actually left me speechless and unable to function properly, which as Mrs Bob will confirm, is quite a feat. I usually don’t shut up. I’m not sure why compliments have such an effect on me? Could it be that I’m suffering from imposter syndrome or is my autism making it impossible for me to take compliments… Mrs Bob says she has a feeling it stems back to my schooldays.

Either way, I must say that I’m going to just say to anyone who is kind enough to take the time to let me know that they enjoyed it “thank you for your very kind words” and learn to accept that some people are going to like my work. That I have worked very hard and I am worthy of the compliments I receive. It’s not easy, that’s for sure.

I haven’t written a blog for a while, as I’ve been focussed on my latest book. Above all thank you very much, each and every one of you, for your continued love and support over the years. I may not be able to verbalise it, but it means so much to me.

Stay Safe X

Old School

Old School

by BobChristianPoetry

I’m an OG

I was a geek before 

chic. 8-bit, pre-Sega

Mega driving games

On 48k tapes

Spending weekends 

In the school dungeon

With Dragons, Space

Marines, paint and dice.

Mayor West, Batman.

A team of superheroes

Villains. A playground 

Galaxy far, far away.

I’m an D20 wearing,

Sindarin speaking, 

Comic book reading,

MMORPG playing

Original geek.

NB You can also call me Rhiluron of Rivendell

(C) Bob Christian