Worries

I worry every day. I can’t stop the flooding in my brain. I worry about the fact that only 16% of autistic adults are in full time paid employment, and that only 32% are in any kind of paid work. I worry about the fact that I don’t look autistic and most people don’t realise just how autistic I am. They think I can fix my autistic traits if they keep telling me how to improve myself, but you can’t fix autism. It stays with you forever. I worry about the fact I may lose all my friends one day through my lack of understanding social communication. I say the wrong things often and I don’t understand why it was the wrong thing. I don’t understand other people’s social signals, either. I think I’m losing friends already.

I worry about the fact that 1 in 3 autistic adults are experiencing severe mental health problems and I think I’m one of them because I can’t see properly most days. All I see in front of me are traps. I think about all the ways I could fail in life frequently, and it isn’t enough to just think positive. I try, but then I think about all the negatives of that positive.

I worry about the fact that I want to do something big with my life but that I will never get the chance to. Don’t say I can if I try. Then, I’ll feel worse about not doing it. My autism looks like it doesn’t affect me much so people encourage me to do things that they would never encourage someone with a more visible disability to do. Just because mine is invisible, people think I can do things. I’ve tried to do more with my life and it ended in terrible situations each time, because of my autism. Each time, I remember back to those scenarios, and I think they will happen again. That is why I cannot do what I want with my life. I cannot experience the opportunities many are lucky to grab. It will end badly.

I cannot see any future for myself, personally. I see the future of everyone else around me — but not me. I have no future. One day, I might be all alone and not know how to cope with the world I’ll be all alone in, and that frightens me the most. I fear that I will be stationary, like a statue, for my entire life. I once had dreams and aspirations that burned down before me when I realised I can never complete those.

I’m depressed. I’m anxious. I’m autistic. No one wants to deal with someone like me. I’m too complicated for them. I’m a mess. I lie to people most of the time with simple texts and funny pictures. I don’t want to be remembered for being a fraud. I want to be remembered for being an author who volunteered with animals regularly, but that is not going to happen. I have had far too many set-backs already. My autism is literally stopping me from getting opportunities (I was turned down by a volunteer agency when they found out I was autistic, despite the fact I could do whatever tasks they wanted me to). I have tried more than once to fit in with society and it did not work out.

The truth is that I’m tired. I feel like an alien. No one understands me. I will not speak this aloud but I will write it in a blog post because that’s what my blog is about. Expressing myself.

Honestly, my pets are what keep me going. Seeing them each day gives me something to smile about, but there’s not much more for me to smile at anymore. I feel alone and frightened about my future. I have my family but they won’t be here forever, so what happens then?

I don’t know.

Lia

 

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Meeting People

One of the most terrifying things for me is meeting new people. I don’t know what they’ll think of me and whether they’ll accept me. I’ve struggled with trying to fit in for my entire life but recently I decided I’ll never fit in, so why try? I am always scared that when I meet someone new, I will be awkward. I am a very awkward person and I end up talking about weird things. Sometimes, I don’t talk at all. This often happens when I’m at a doctor’s office; my mum will speak for me because I’m unable to. I don’t know when these bouts of silence will happen (it’s usually when someone is authoritative or scary) but I always hope that I’ll be able to speak when it matters. However, sometimes I’m scared that if I speak, I’ll say the wrong thing.

On Monday, I met new people and it was very scary for me because it’s not something I do a lot. Afterwards, I was depressed and anxious because I worried a lot about every single thing I had done. This always happens to me but, after a few days, I get over it and am much happier. I begin to think clearly and realise that I wasn’t so bad after all. I talked to them, quite a bit, and, whilst I might have said some weird things, they didn’t seem to mind. I think so much about myself. Someone pointed out to me that the other people are probably thinking about themselves too so will not judge me. I think this is a good point. I think about myself, so they will think about themselves. We all worry about what we say or do but, in the end, no one else cares.

I think meeting new people is an important part of life and we all do it. I don’t do it very often due to mainly spending time with my mum, as I’m autistic. However, I think that I should try to do more things that are out of my comfort zone. I need to be brave. One day soon, I think I will make a recipe by myself. I usually ask my mum for help but I think I will try and do it all by myself.  That’s one thing. Little things can help me gradually become more independent.

Lia

Depression Is Why

Depression is easy.
When people leave you behind,
When they wish you well,
But don’t do anything to suggest
that they mean it —
When you’re left all alone,
Just a lonely girl in a room alone,
They’re going off to places
and you’re in the bathroom
crying,
but maybe they do like you;
they just don’t understand.
You want love, you crave it,
Like a cat or a dog,
It’s your energy, it keeps you going,
But seeing them happy
makes you smile for a moment,
Only a moment,
as you realise,
you’ll never be good enough
because you’re you and they’re them.
They can go into the world and embrace
the love of everyone around them,
because that’s what being normal is —
and you aren’t like them,
that’s why they left you alone.
You’re different.
You wouldn’t get on with the world.
Depression is why.
Anxiety is why.
Autism is why.
That’s why you cry,
You want to be a part of an art gallery
but you’re just the frame of a painting;
you’re there, to make the painting
look nicer, but the painting is the main
attraction.
What’s wrong with you?
You should be happy!
Depression, that’s why.

The Whispers

whispers entrancing my thoughts,
seducing me into a state of confusion,
my eyes low, the floor my ally,
everyone around the enemy,
if I look up, they will know
that I’m not worth the time of day,
the whispers tell me that
they’re not my friends,
they will never like me,
because I am insane,
I am existence’s bane.
friends talk about how they understand
but they don’t,
only the whispers do,
they know my deepest fears,
my worst insecurities,
and everyone else will pretend
it’s not that bad, that it can go away
if I just tried —
but the whispers know that
it’s not something I can fix.
that’s why they’re who I trust the most,
they might be mean and harsh,
but they accept me for who I am,
with all the bad too.
they don’t silence me for talking bad,
for having a rant, for a meltdown,
for moaning, or just being me,
they’re always here.
they always have time.
Always.

Escapril: Anxiety

This was an easy subject to do because I’ve suffered with anxiety for a long time.

A rope around my throat,
A knife in my heart;
that’s how it feels.

A piece of glass in your brain,
Irreparable damage,
that’s how it is.

Constant voices,
Judging your every decision,
that’s how it works.

You cry a bit,
But not in public;
They’ll judge you.

You lie sometimes
But not too much;
They’ll know.

You want to talk,
But you can’t,
You’ll muddle everything.

That’s how it feels,
To have anxiety
destroy your mind.

That’s how it feels,
To have anxiety
destroy your life.

What is there?

I am sad at the moment. That’s why I haven’t blogged in a while. I didn’t have anything to say because nothing was happening to me, except my mind was crumbling.

Everyone I know has a future. I can see them living their life happily in the future. But I can’t see my own future.

I have autism, which makes most social situations much more challenging. I have selective mutism, which is why most jobs wouldn’t work for me. You can’t exactly blank the customers! Most people don’t understand why I’m unable to work, encouraging me to try, and telling me about opportunities, without realising how extremely anxious this makes me. In my current state of being, normal jobs just aren’t for me. I can’t do it because of my challenges. But I want to have a goal, something to strive for, to live for. Because, at the moment, I have no goal. I’m not living, I’m surviving. I can’t do a lot of things because of my problems but because no one can actually see my disability, they keep encouraging me. It’s nice, that they think I have potential, but to be honest, it’s kinda like telling a blind person to see.

I want to do something so bad but I’m tired, I’m sad, and I have no motivation. My anxieties are everywhere. What is there for someone like me to do? Someone who can’t even go out alone, someone who often can’t speak for herself. What is there?

I’m Depressed

When you’re depressed, it’s kinda like being sucked into a black hole. No one knows where you’ve gone, and you can’t go back to where you were before. Instead, you should go to a new place, a different place, because that old world you lived in — that was the one that led you here. To this black hole. Instead of hopelessly trying to go back into it, accept that you’ve been sucked through it, and try to figure out how to cope with your new surroundings.

Sometimes, when you’re depressed, all you want to do is cry. It’s okay to cry. I cry, daily, at the moment. I don’t know how to stop myself. It’s the easiest way to let your emotions out, because other ways seem challenging.

Having depression and anxiety combined is a deadly combination. They contradict each other so completely that your mind is rattled and you don’t know how to exist. On one hand, your depression makes you stop caring, but on the other hand, anxiety makes you care about everything. How can you care about everything and nothing at the same time? I don’t know how, but that is me. I care about so much yet so little all at once. It’s confusing.

I’m in an existential crisis, wondering what the point of human existence is, if our only objective is to destroy the world? Because that’s what we seem to be doing anyway. So my mind wonders sometimes if the most eco-friendly option of all is to no longer exist. That’s my crazy depressed anxiety-riddled mind for you. I care so much about the world, so why have I stopped caring about myself? I don’t know, but my mind is always plagued with the big questions, as well as the small questions, whilst undeniably not caring what happens to me. It’s a truly destructive mind that I have, but I’ve kept existing this long. I can keep existing, can’t I?

I know this post is awfully depressing but my mind’s a mess. It’s been a mess for a while and I don’t see it cleaning itself up anytime soon so I thought writing a post might help. It’s healthy to write about your problems. It helps you figure them out in ways that you haven’t yet come across. This post didn’t help me fix my problems but it made me realise some of the roots of them. If you read this, thank you for reading. You should try writing about any problems you have. It helps, in a way.

Lia

The Mind of Anxiety

Leave the house or everyone will forget you exist.
Return home or they will remember how awful you are.
Speak up or people will think you have no tongue.
Be silent or you will offend the world.
Do what they ask or you won’t be respected.
Disobey them or you won’t be respected.
Listen to something else other than your mind, for once.
How can you listen to something else when your mind won’t ever leave?
It’s that music the neighbours are playing too loud, it’s your heartbeat that you just remembered is right there, it’s the alarm clock reminding you that you are alive.
Talk to people or you’ll suffocate.
Don’t talk or their advice will make you regret it.
No one can help you except yourself, they say.
Try being me. Then give me that advice. I can’t help myself. I’m a block of ice. Helping myself would mean melting away.

Dear Eve: A New Idea

Before I start, I want to say thank you to Kel for inspiring me and allowing me to do this. He recently started a letter series addressed to someone called Joe, whom is made up, and I thought it was a really good idea. It helps you to get your thoughts out there. I’ve done a few letters in the past, but never directed towards a fictitious person, so I think it’s a really great idea. You can say exactly what’s on your mind, but also feel like you’re expressing it to someone, even if they’re imaginary. I hope this series works out for me too, and please go check out his blog!

Dear Eve,

I know you don’t know me yet but you will know me. You aren’t real and yet I feel like I’m talking to someone. This is my first letter to you and I hope there will be many more.

Do you like cats, Eve? Back in August I visited a cat cafe for the first time in my life, in London. My anxiety was high about going to London as it’s such a big city but it turned out okay I think. The cats were cute anyway. I wonder, would you be a cat person or a dog person? I have both cats and a dog but I’d consider myself a cat person. I do the ‘would I have one if I lived by myself?’ test. As I live with my family, it is easier for me to have a dog, but I don’t think I would be able to deal with one if I lived by myself. The training and walkies would be too much for me, I think. Cats, however, would definitely be there. That’s why I’m a cat person. Cats also don’t bark whenever the bell rings, unlike a certain pomchi.

I guess you could call me an anxious person, Eve. I think a lot. Too much. Even when I know a solid plan, I think about the many, many ways in which it could go wrong. For instance, I am going to a board game club (yay social life) and I am going to take a game that I quite like — Catopoly (I told you I’m a cat person) which is basically cat monopoly. However, I am extremely worried that no one else will like the game and it will be boring for them. I know some of them for sure like cats but I don’t know if they’ll like this game.

About the social life thing: I might go to a couple of clubs, but I’m not a very social person. Outside of that, there isn’t much I do. I do sometimes have a social life outside of these clubs but it is infrequent. The reason I started going to these clubs was because I wasn’t going out at all. I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression of me, Eve. I wouldn’t want to lie to you about being a high-flying social butterfly.

Our house has been on the market for over a year and it still hasn’t sold. It did sell for a bit but then the buyer decided she actually couldn’t afford it so it’s been back on for a while now. It’s stressing me out, the viewings. Often, there is little warning of them and I love notice. So when there’s hardly any notice that I have to leave the house for the viewing, it stresses me out. I’m stressed a lot lately. There’s another viewing soon but I was given an acceptable amount of warning for it. It’s still stressful but less so than if I had been given less warning. We always have to take the dog out as he isn’t the friendliest to ‘intruders of our house’ (basically people he deems to be in his territory). We have a good guard dog. If someone ever attempts to break in, we will know before they get in the door.

I’m feeling quite tired now, Eve. Did you like my first letter? I hope it was okay for you. I really want to talk to you more in future letters. I write this in my bed, at half-past midnight, because I always find my thoughts most cluttered in the night. Thanks for helping me decluttering them, Eve, by letting me write you this letter.

Love,

Lia