I remember, when I was ten, I went to my first and only New Year's Eve Party. If I could rewind, the event would have gone something like this. My parents and my brother arrive and the hosts ask where I am. "He'll be along in a minute," my father replies. I walk in with a tall, lanky man at my side. "Who's that with Peter?" pipes up the host. "That's Professor Tony Attwood. Peter's support worker." "His what?" "His support worker."

I start to feel overwhelmed. Professor Tony Attwood approaches the host. "Peter doesn't want to have his tea with the kids, and he doesn't want to be out here. Can he and I have our tea in the games' room, please." "Oh, all right," sighs the host. Professor Tony Attwood and I take a plate each and serve ourselves. The kids start to pour in. Professor Tony Attwood approaches the host. "Peter feels overwhelmed." "Oh, all right," he can go upstairs." Professor Tony Attwood approaches me, "She said we can go upstairs." We take some more food and go up and sit in their kitchen and eat.

The kids want to play some games. I am overwhelmed. I take out my noise cancelling headphones.

It's nearly 9:30pm. Tony Attwood approaches my father. "Peter wants to go home." "Okay, take him." "Your father says we can go home." We drive home and I go to bed. Professor Tony Attwood sleeps on the couch.

The host of the party brought together people who did not share common values. I could have survived a few things with them if their other friends hadn't have been there.

There's nothing wrong with having friends from different parts of your life who don't know each other, except that some may not know the real you. I take strength in solitude, but I need to have some people around me.