by guest author Jimi
I would like to invite you to play basketball with us. You’re probably thinking “don’t you need to be 7ft tall?” and the truth is no, you really don’t.
My name is Jimi and I run a social basketball group in Llandrindod Wells. As an adult on the autism spectrum, access to sports, especially competitive sports, has always been challenging. After what was a dark, difficult and strayed 24 years of my life, I was eventually diagnosed with autism less than a year ago and I remember how unhelpful and overwhelming the post-diagnosis support thrown at me was. I was also in a pit of depression and constant anxiety at the time and my bipolar was running free and naked in the boggy marsh of my mind.
Through many other coarse experiences with mental health services, I have found that they can be congested with inflexible bureaucratic principles, galactic waiting times, a lack of resources as well as education and empathy, mountainous referrals and far too clinical to make a real and natural connection with an individual. There is also an addict-like reliance on prescribing pharmaceuticals: the irony.
The signposting on signposting on signposting played out like Dr Seuss’ Green Eggs & Ham, except my ending left Sam-I-Am to his rare refreshment and I decided to go it alone to start writing a new book to break the cycle (neither literary nor literally, just to make that clear).
I’d been in this state too many times for too long, repeating the same patterns that I knew could lead to a fifth suicide attempt. I’d had enough and it was up to me to do something about it or rot. I set off with my figurative notepad and pen to discover what positivity and wellbeing meant to me. Now I must mention here that I didn’t start playing basketball again and my mental health problems disappeared overnight, I don’t want to say it would be impossible but (reluctantly) this would be impossible.
“Know thyself.”
After a men’s process work retreat facilitated by a very dear friend of mine, Scott McGregor, and his counterpart, Laurence Johns, I decided to completely unmask. Simply put ‘masking’ is a strategy many neurodivergent, especially autistic, people do to appear neurotypical in front of others and, in terms of energy and wellbeing, it is decimating.
For me, unmasking has been arduous yet rewarding and I’m still working through it. The retreat itself was at the height of last year’s summer set in the gorgeous hills of Llanafan Fawr, disconnected from the noise of modern life and totally wholesome. This part of my life was a major turning point and with the support of other vulnerable and beautiful men, it showed me that the answers and contentment I’ve been desperately trying to latch on to were actually within myself, not out to the exterior world or with material objects or romantic relationships. I’d been unwittingly running away from that truth my entire adult life.
Enter basketball.
I’ve always enjoyed playing since my friend introduced it to me in primary school. It was different to the other mainstream sports on the playground; the play was faster, more intense, more tactile and we didn’t need to face rejection, we could just pick up our ball and play. It was at the height of the Michael Jordan/Chicago Bulls fever that was gripping the globe and a popular interest in basketball was gaining traction here in the UK. Other kids soon took notice and, of course, we let them all join us.
Fast forward to 2023. I mentioned in passing to a then work colleague, now teammate, how I wished to play again: serendipity rides shotgun. He invited me to come along to play with a group down the road, the Builth Bulls, and after that first session back my fire was reignited.
Once a week could not sate my appetite for hitting those sweet buckets so a few of us ‘Llandodites’ decided to set something up closer to home and more regular throughout the week. Within a month I was finding a direct correlation between the progress I was making during practice and the progress in the rest of my life.
Enter basketball.
I’ve always enjoyed playing since my friend introduced it to me in primary school. It was different to the other mainstream sports on the playground; the play was faster, more intense, more tactile and we didn’t need to face rejection, we could just pick up our ball and play. It was at the height of the Michael Jordan/Chicago Bulls fever that was gripping the globe and a popular interest in basketball was gaining traction here in the UK. Other kids soon took notice and, of course, we let them all join us.
Fast forward to 2023. I mentioned in passing to a then work colleague, now teammate, how I wished to play again: serendipity rides shotgun. He invited me to come along to play with a group down the road, the Builth Bulls, and after that first session back my fire was reignited.
Once a week could not sate my appetite for hitting those sweet buckets so a few of us ‘Llandodites’ decided to set something up closer to home and more regular throughout the week. Within a month I was finding a direct correlation between the progress I was making during practice and the progress in the rest of my life.
As more players were stepping onto our court, I kept thinking about all the other people in similar situations to me who perhaps felt that the system was letting them down, especially in a rural area such as ours. I feel obligated to do more to let them know that all their eccentricities, fears and insecurities are so welcome on our court. Basketball can take you through a lot of emotions and feelings; frustration and elation, fatigue and determination, inflation and deflation, anger and humour. It’s good to recognise them and work through them in a safe way. You work a lot with action and reaction which are very valuable tools you can then use out in the world beyond the court.
So this is what I’m offering my fellow neurodivergent peers; the opportunity to play in a space where it doesn’t matter who you are or what’s going on off the court, for an hour only basketball matters. A supportive environment to compliment whatever care or health journey you find yourself on. If you don’t relate to any of the issues I’ve spoken about, that truly is wonderful and of course you are welcome to play with us.
Psychologists and teachers say that children learn through play, but I find that to only be a half-truth: people best learn through play. I’ve learnt more about myself through sharing experiences where my sense of humour and curiosity can move freely and being inspired through connecting with others, Llandrindod Lakers has been a huge part of that and I hope anyone reading this will find their power within to do something new. Play.
Helping Mental Health With A Ball - a member's testimony
Becoming a resident to Powys in 2021 I had reached out to several sports and social clubs. Dishearteningly, most of which never got back to me. I re-attempted late 2023, predominantly from a physical health viewpoint and came across a post on a local group solution page regarding basketball. I’ve always been an admirer of the sport from afar but was typically pushed towards either football or individual workouts, for which I had no affinity.
Since joining, I’ve been taken aback of how much the group has helped mentally, from the initial welcome and the encouragement thereafter. I’ve found myself eager and excited for not only the session but week ahead. Which has translated to each aspect of my life. I’m proud to have found great friends here and an outlet for stress, anxiety and healthy competition.
Combining a welcoming group of local people with a sport that has a rich, diverse and inclusive history has surely been a winning experience for me.
Llandrindod Lakers have open basketball sessions on Mondays 6 – 7pm and
Fridays 6.30 – 7.30pm at Llandrindod Wells Sports Centre.
Find out more on the Llandrindod Lakers' Facebook page.
As I was present when James was born I have literally known him all his life and, with a sort of medical background, suspected he was autistic not dyslexic but it was a taboo subject then. I'm so glad he eventually got help. Good luck for the future.
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