Measuring a Life in Coffee Spoons: A Neurodivergent (Re)Reading of T.S. Eliot's 'The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock'
Introduction: Finding Myself in Prufrock's Paralysis
Have you ever felt trapped between the desire to connect and the paralysing fear of being truly seen? When I first encountered T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" (1915), it was more than literature—it was a mirror. But not for who I am now, and some might argue, not for who I was then. One thing is for sure, as my teacher read it, I was forever in love with poetry. As a queer, disabled, neurodivergent educator, I found in Prufrock's voice an echo of my own struggles with masking, social anxiety, and the exhausting performance of fitting in.
This analysis is part of reclaiming my literary voice after years of others profiting from my work. If you're new to Sonnet Sleuths, welcome to a community where poetry becomes a lens for understanding ourselves and our world through diverse perspectives.
Quick Summary: What You Need to Know
Prufrock's World: The Architecture of Anxiety
The poem opens with an epigraph from Dante's Inferno, a soul in Hell speaks only because they believe their confession will never reach the living world. This establishes Prufrock's defining need: a witness who won't judge or expose him.
The urban landscape mirrors his internal state:
- "muttering retreats"
- "restless nights in one-night cheap hotels"
- "streets that follow like a tedious argument"
These aren't just descriptions—they're what Eliot called "objective correlatives," external images that embody internal emotional states. For those of us who experience sensory overwhelm or social exhaustion, these environments feel viscerally familiar.
The Yellow Fog: Paralysis Made Visible
The yellow fog, personified as a timid cat, becomes the poem's most powerful metaphor:
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes...
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening...
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep."
This isn't dramatic weather, it's quiet suffocation. Like Prufrock himself, the fog is everywhere yet passive, moving without purpose. For neurodivergent readers, this perfectly captures the fog of executive dysfunction or social overwhelm that keeps us from action despite a desperate desire to connect.
The Performance of Self: Masking and Gender
"Preparing a Face": The Exhaustion of Masking
Prufrock's need "to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet" resonates deeply with masking, the exhausting performance many neurodivergent and queer people know intimately. Every social interaction requires careful calibration:
"There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate"
The violence of "murder and create" reveals how masking feels, killing parts of ourselves to create acceptable versions for public consumption.
Fragmented Perception: When Connection Feels Impossible
Prufrock cannot perceive women as whole people, seeing only:
- "perfume from a dress"
- "arms that are braceleted and white and bare"
- "the skirts that trail along the floor"
This fragmentation reveals more than misogyny; it shows how overwhelming social interaction can fragment our perception when we're struggling to process human connection. From a feminist lens, it also exposes how patriarchal conditioning reduces women to parts, even in supposedly sensitive men.
"Not Prince Hamlet": Impostor Syndrome and Secondary Status
Prufrock's self-comparison devastates:
"No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord... Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse"
He casts himself as Polonius—not the tragic hero but the expendable supporting character. For those of us who have internalised messages about being "too much" or "not enough," this resignation to secondary status in our own lives cuts deep.
Time, Routine, and the Unlived Life
Coffee Spoons and Crushing Routine
"I have measured out my life with coffee spoons"
This single line crystallises the tragedy — existence reduced to safe repetition rather than authentic experience. The contrast between abundant time ("there will be time") and urgent scarcity reveals the paralysis of chronic procrastination, particularly familiar to individuals with ADHD, who are often caught between hyperfocus and time blindness.
The Overwhelming Question Never Asked
Throughout, Prufrock circles an "overwhelming question" he cannot voice. Whether read as a romantic proposition, an existential query, or the question of authentic self-revelation, its very unaskability defines his tragedy.
Contemporary Resonance: Prufrock in Digital Spaces
Social Media as Modern Drawing Room
Prufrock's anxieties feel prescient in our digital age:
- His "bald spot" and "thin" limbs anticipate selfie culture's body scrutiny
- "Visions and revisions" mirror the endless editing of online personas
- The women "talking of Michelangelo" become LinkedIn influencers performing intelligence
Yet online spaces also offer what Prufrock couldn't find—niche communities where difference is celebrated, where we might hear the mermaids sing to us after all.
Intersectional Readings: Beyond Universal Anxiety
Queer Coding and Hidden Selves
LGBTQIA+ readers recognise the coded language of concealment. Prufrock’s terror of being “formulated, sprawling on a pin” speaks to the violence of being outed or exposed. His conviction that “I do not think they will sing to me” echoes the generational trauma of exclusion from love and beauty.
Poetry, Music, and the Power of Naming
My own journey toward understanding my gender and neurodivergence was shaped not only by poetry but by music. For years, I masked my difference to survive, until I heard the lyrics from Hurray for the Riff Raff’s “Pa’lante” in 2017:
“Well lately, don’t understand what I am
Treated as a fool
Not quite a woman or a man
Well I don’t know
I guess I don’t understand the plan”
These words gave me the clarity and permission I needed to embrace my nonbinary, pansexual, and asexual identity. Like Eliot’s verse, today’s music is living poetry, offering language, validation, and solidarity for those of us whose stories are rarely told.
Class, Race, and the Limits of Universality
While often seen as universal, Prufrock’s anxiety is actually specific — he moves through privileged spaces (such as tea parties and cultural references) even though he feels excluded. Contemporary analysis must consider whose anxieties are canonised as “universal” and whose are marginalised. Some critics claim that Prufrock’s anxieties are universal, while others view them as tied to his social class, gender, or sexual orientation. Feminist and queer perspectives complicate the notion of universality, revealing how the poem both reflects and challenges the limitations of early twentieth-century masculinity. Recognising these debates, we understand Prufrock not as a simple figure but as a lens for exploring broader issues of identity, power, and belonging.
Literary Innovation: Fragmenting the Modern Self
Eliot’s techniques revolutionised poetry:
These innovations provided us with language to describe experiences that Victorian poetry couldn’t capture — the fractured, overwhelming nature of modern consciousness.
Personal Reflection: Why This Matters
When I (finally) discovered my neurodivergence, Prufrock suddenly made sense. Well, a new, nuanced and previously undetected sense instead. His paralysis wasn’t weakness; it was the exhaustion of existing in spaces not built for minds like ours. His fragments weren’t just modernist technique; they were how overwhelming situations actually feel when you’re processing them differently.
In my work with neurodivergent students through DW Tutoring, I see Prufrock’s struggles daily: brilliant minds convinced they’re “attendant lords,” measuring lives in coffee spoons because authentic existence feels too dangerous.
But unlike Prufrock, we’re building communities where the mermaids do sing to us, where our differences are strengths, where questions can be asked, and where the connection doesn’t require masks.
Conclusion: Prufrock’s Gift and Our Response
“The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” endures because it articulates the inarticulate, the terror of being seen, the exhaustion of performance, the grief of an unlived life. It gives us language for experiences that often feel unspeakable.
But we need not be Prufrock. In naming these fears, in finding community, in choosing authenticity despite the terror, we can hear the mermaids singing, each to each. And yes, they will sing to us.

Autism’s Three-Body Problem: Why Levels Fail Us
There’s a concept in physics known as the “three-body problem.” While the movement of two celestial bodies under gravity can be predicted relatively easily, a third is introduced, and the system’s behaviour becomes chaotic—impossible to determine with simple rules. Recent popularisations of this idea underscore a universal truth: some systems are simply too dynamic and interconnected for neat, reductionist solutions.
When it comes to Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and its diagnostic “severity levels,” we face a strikingly similar human dilemma. The DSM-5’s introduction of Levels 1, 2, and 3 was intended to bring order and standardised language to the diverse ways autism presents, theoretically aiding treatment planning and resource allocation. In theory, this sounds pragmatic. In practice, it falls short.
The Paradox: Achievement vs. Internal Reality
As an autistic educator and researcher, I have lived the consequences of this system. My recent reclassification to Level 2 ASD—“requiring substantial support”—brought a strange mix of validation and frustration. This is a vindication because my experiences were previously dismissed by a psychiatrist who saw only my academic achievements. The frustration, however, is palpable because this label reinforced my conviction that autism’s diagnostic levels are profoundly misguided, reflecting society’s need for tidy categories rather than our complex realities.
The notion that academic or professional success negates significant autistic traits is deeply flawed. Navigating academic structures does not erase daily challenges: sensory overwhelm, executive dysfunction, and the relentless, exhausting labour of masking. These are high-cost performances, invisible to those who rely on superficial assessments. Support needs are fluid and context-dependent, not static or easily captured by a single label.
Our Own ‘Three-Body Problem’: Levels vs. Lived Experience
Much like the celestial three-body problem, attempting to categorise the infinite variability of autistic experience into three tiers quickly descends into its own form of chaos, often with detrimental human consequences. Consider the “three bodies” at play:
The interplay between these “bodies” means that support needs are rarely static or straightforward enough to be captured by a single, lifelong level. The system strives for predictability but, in reality, is far more complex and less predictable than such classifications allow, leaving many needs unmet and individuals unsupported.
As I wrote in “A Pox on Resilience”:
“Lazy welfare cheat or inspiration porn,
No middle ground for the differently born.”
These levels create false binaries, ignoring the constant evolution of support needs. Research confirms that static categories limit opportunities by pigeonholing individuals into narrow definitions of their abilities and challenges. They also fail to reflect the lived experience of autistic people, who often find their support needs changing over time and in different situations.
Beyond Simplistic Labels: Urgent Need for Systemic Change
For instance, a person with autism may require more support during a job interview than during a routine day at home. However, the current system does not account for such variations, leading to inadequate support in certain situations. While diagnosis can validate, the real harm arises from how levels are used in practice. Critics, including autistic advocates and researchers, rightly argue that these levels are poorly defined and fail to capture the dynamic, fluctuating nature of support needs across different contexts and life stages. As one advocate put it, “mild autism doesn’t mean one experiences autism mildly... It means YOU experience their autism mildly.” This insight highlights how these labels often reflect external perceptions rather than internal realities.
We urgently need systems that recognise:
Finding Our Voice, Demanding Better
Through poetry and teaching, I attempt to express what clinical language overlooks. When I write, “Barriers bloom like noxious weeds, / Choking paths, stifling needs,” I articulate the daily reality of navigating obstructive systems—a truth my neurodivergent students deeply understand.
More Than a Level: A Call to Action
I may be “Level 2 autistic,” but I am also an educator, poet, mentor, and advocate. These roles are not contradictions. Our value lies not in labels but our unique insights and collective strength.
The system that imposes these levels is in urgent need of transformation. Who better to lead that change than those who know its failings first-hand? Let’s dismantle these oversimplifications and build something truly supportive—together.
In the cacophony of existence, a voice strains—
Forty-plus years of searching,
A lifetime of pains.
Words crumble to ash, unheard and unseen,
Lost in society's vast, indifferent machine.
Neurodivergent synapses spark and sputter,
A mind wired differently, thoughts all a-flutter.
Autism's maze, ADHD's relentless tide,
Trauma's shadows where nightmares reside.
Rejection's barbs, familiar as my own skin,
Each "no" a thorn, each silence a coffin.
Dysphoria whispers, "You don't belong here,"
In a world that sings harsh and unclear.
Nonbinary, queer, asexual—labels that confound,
A self yet unanchored, unsafe, unbound.
Isolation creeps, a suffocating shroud,
Drowning amid the indifferent crowd.
Empathy burns, a fire beneath the skin,
A curse, a gift, searing from within.
But who hears the helper's muffled plea?
Who sees the saviour drowning at sea?
Knowledge hard-earned through years of strife,
Wisdom gleaned from a fractured life.
Yet warnings fall on ears deafened by fear,
As others march blindly towards perils near.
The tribe remains elusive, a shimmering mirage,
Fading with each misunderstanding, each barrage
Of blank stares, of glances that never linger,
Of people who look, but fail to see the singer.
Helplessness learned, a bitter draught to swallow,
As hope's embers fade, leaving the heart hollow.
The voice grows hoarse, the weary spirit mired,
Unwanted, unseen, and uninspired.
In this abyss of unbelonging, deep and wide,
Echoes the cry of a soul with nowhere to hide.
For connection, for understanding, for home,
In a world where different means forever alone.
Senses overload: lights blind, sounds pierce,
The world a tempest, wild and fierce.
Touch that scorches, smells that choke and smother,
Each day a battle, one after another.
Yet still it burns, this invisible flame,
Flickering, sputtering, but never quite tame.
In the endless night, it stubbornly glows,
A beacon of self that nobody knows.
How long can it endure, this hidden pyre?
Will it fade from view or burn ever higher?
In the silence between heartbeats, it persists,
A testament to a life that still exists.
The biblical story of David and Goliath in 1 Samuel 17 often serves as a powerful metaphor for conquering seemingly insurmountable odds. At least, that is how it has abundantly resonated with me throughout my life. Especially as I was named David and growing up in an Irish Catholic family, I constantly encountered these timeless biblical tales at school, home, and church — their influence permeated every aspect of my life.
I have never escaped that metaphor and comparison with every battle, and I have had more than most. From escaping an abusive family and living on the streets to being sent to multiple uncaring foster homes. To bullying from family, fellow students and mental health staff following my first suicide attempt (the nurse instructed me and a fellow patient how to slit our wrists/arms correctly). When I was hospitalised and in rehab for eight years after a man ran a red light and almost killed me. The list keeps on going. My most recent battle has been going on for over seven years. Yet still, I hear that metaphor, sometimes from casual observers or even from myself. It is exhausting and, frankly, dangerous.
The issue with applying this comparison to modern situations becomes profoundly problematic, especially when addressing toxic positivity, disability fetishisation, and the deep-rooted challenges individuals face when confronting systemic biases. Let us explore these pressing issues more broadly while interweaving the essential elements of disability experiences, energy management, allyship, and the ongoing necessity for collective action.
Toxic Positivity and the Disability Experience
When people resurrect the David and Goliath narrative to promote the notion that anyone can overcome any obstacle simply through positivity and perseverance, it can:
The “Spoon Theory” and Energy Management
For individuals with disabilities, the concept of “spoons” as a metaphor for energy is crucial:
Disability Representation and Institutional Barriers
Using the David and Goliath story in the context of disability representation can:
https://www.ted.com/talks/stella_young_i_m_not_your_inspiration_thank_you_very_much?subtitle=en
Unrecognised Challenges in Institutions
Confronting Institutional Biases
When individuals confront institutions with long-established histories of discrimination, comparing their struggle to David and Goliath can:
The Importance of Collective Action
Allyship and Its Role in Systemic Change
Allyship plays a crucial role in advocating for systemic change. Allies can support individuals with disabilities by:
Examples of Successful Collective Actions
Highlighting real-world successes can inspire others and demonstrate the power of community efforts in challenging institutional biases:
Individual Considerations
When making comparisons, it is essential to evaluate each case’s merits. Factors such as the type of disability, financial resources, medical, social, and family support systems, personal life commitments, and dependents all influence the individual’s experience and must be considered.
The Complexity of Individual Experiences
When examining the challenges faced by individuals with disabilities in institutional settings, it is vital to recognise that each case is unique and should be considered on its own merits. The David and Goliath metaphor, while powerful, can oversimplify these complex situations, underscoring the need for a more nuanced approach.
Factors Influencing Individual Experiences
Several factors can significantly impact an individual’s ability to navigate institutional barriers:
By making direct comparisons without considering these nuanced factors, we risk oversimplifying complex situations and potentially invalidating individuals’ real struggles. As the response emphasises, it is essential to consider each case on its own merits rather than comparing individuals broadly, even if they face similar challenges.
TL;DR Avoiding Unfair Comparisons
It is important to note that comparing individuals facing similar challenges can be problematic and unfair. Even when two people have the same type of disability or are confronting similar institutional barriers, their circumstances and resources may differ significantly.
The Danger of Comparison
The Role of Allyship and Collective Action
Given the complexity of individual experiences, the role of allies and collective action becomes even more crucial:
Effective Allyship
Collective Action and Systemic Change
While individual experiences differ, collective action remains crucial for systemic change:
In conclusion, metaphors like David and Goliath once thought of as inspiring, are, in reality, anything but. They serve only as a tired and overused trope to sell flights of fancy in action films and by news outlets to try to cash in on ratings. Even when used cautiously and in context, it can still cause much harm. Recognising the complexity of individual experiences, avoiding unfair comparisons, and focusing on collective action and allyship are vital to effectively addressing institutional barriers. By embracing this nuanced approach, we can work towards creating more inclusive and equitable institutions for all.
Anand, P., & Ben-Shalom, Y. (2014). How do working-age people with disabilities spend their time? New evidence from the American Time Use Survey. Demography, 51(6), 1977–1998
Catalyst. (2021). Allyship and Advocacy at Work: 5 Key Questions Answered. Retrieved from https://www.catalyst.org/2021/10/14/allyship-advocacy-questions-answered/
Commons Library. (2023). The History of Campaigns in Australia by People With Disability. Retrieved from https://commonslibrary.org/the-history-of-campaigns-in-australia-by-people-with-disability/
Coveney, C. (2023). Disability Advocacy Research in Europe. European Disability Forum.
Crenshaw, K. (1989). Demarginalising the intersection of race and sex: A black feminist critique of antidiscrimination doctrine, feminist theory and antiracist politics. University of Chicago Legal Forum, 1989(1), 139–167.
Forward Ability Support. (2023). How to be a disability ally. Retrieved from https://fas.org.au/how-to-be-a-disability-ally/
Krahn, G. L., Walker, D. K., & Correa-De-Araujo, R. (2015). Persons with disabilities as an unrecognised health disparity population. American Journal of Public Health, 105(S2), S198-S206.
Lindsay, S., Cagliostro, E., Albarico, M., Mortaji, N., & Karon, L. (2018). A systematic review of the benefits of hiring people with disabilities. Journal of Occupational Rehabilitation, 28(4), 634–655.
Lovedisabledlife. (2023). Actionable Tips for How to Be a Supportive Disability Ally. Retrieved from https://www.lovedisabledlife.com/blog/actionable-tips-for-how-to-be-a-supportive-disability-ally
Mitra, S., Palmer, M., Kim, H., Mont, D., & Groce, N. (2017). Extra costs of living with a disability: A review and agenda for research. Disability and Health Journal, 10(4), 475–484.
Nario-Redmond, M. R., Noel, J. G., & Fern, E. (2013). Redefining disability, re-imagining the self: Disability identification predicts self-esteem and strategic responses to stigma. Self and Identity, 12(5), 468–488.
Sinclair, T. (2023). Embracing Human Spirit: A Perspective on Allyship for Intellectual Disabilities. Retrieved from https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/embracing-human-spirit-perspective-allyship-tristan-sinclair
Steinfeld, E., & Maisel, J. (2012). Universal design: Creating inclusive environments. John Wiley & Sons.
Tough, H., Siegrist, J., & Fekete, C. (2017). Social relationships, mental health and wellbeing in physical disability: A systematic review. BMC Public Health, 17(1),
414.