Okay I know an employer doesn’t want to read this but I think it’s important to share and writing helps me get my thoughts out.
I’m probably autistic. I say probably because my parents think I am. It’s the word they’ve used against me when I’ve acted really not very mentally well. The word they’ve used to guilt trip me and the word they’ve used to make me feel like I’m a burden on them.
It’s not just my parents though, people with some sort of knowlege of autism have also recognised it. I just don’t have an official diagnosis because my parents wanted to “protect me.” All they’ve done is exclude me even more. All they’ve done is give me more challenges. I’ve not been provided with sensory items to cope with my autism, therapy to help me come to terms with it or been able to access accommodations and awareness in workplaces. This made my last job especially much harder than it already was.
Along with this I have mental health issues. I don’t know what exactly and I definitely think I need further investigations. A lot of the time if I’m up, I’m on top of the world. If I’m down, I’m down to the point it hurts. If I’m up I can be very impulsive and have to stop myself from spending too much. I may make reckless decisions safety wise and have got myself into my overdraft before when I really hadn’t needed to. If I’m up I’ll stay up until 1am, want to stay up more. Make the most of having some sort of energy that’s putting some sort of mask on the ME induced fatigue. I’ll be creative. Start new projects. I’ll be more ambitious, put myself forward more and apply for things. I’ll climb when maybe that’s not the most sensible decision at the time. I’ll not be able to concentrate. 101 things wizzing round my mind at a time. The me who can go out, drink until 4am not sleep at all and climb the next day. The one who is very energised doing so! I’ll feel like superwoman.
And when I’m low, I can’t stop crying. Staring at a screen, with nothing getting done. I may self harm. I get increasingly frustrated at little things. I honestly just want to cease to exist and sometimes I fantasize over the possibility of completing the unliving. I’m so depressed it’s paralysing. Wanting nothing but to curl up in a ball but the your going to fail anxiety wins. Not that I’m productive or able to think straight.
And then there’s the paranoid me, the horrible me. The yeeting phones into walls me. The me who wants to escape so much and is hurting so much that she leaves the house in the dark with nothing but a thin bouse when it’s -3 degrees outside. The me who loses friends and frays relationships with family. I don’t know if that’s an autism meltdown or a sign of another mental illness. But that me is never the one. It’s always distressing and always a blur. I never remember exactly what happened.
Right now I’m low. Low after something my dad said to me when I was acting not at all mentally well. It’s a deep low. A hole I feel just gets deeper the more I try to climb my way out.
