Aloha, my friends! I hope this day finds you well. I know I’m doing slightly better today. Well, I’ve calmed the fuck down considerably. I also think that my female problem is an ovarian cyst, which sucks, but is a lot easier to handle than anything else. One of my numerous cousins had a graduation party today that I skipped because I just can’t handle people right now. Also because I just don’t like her or her boyfriend much. He’s been a dick to me in the past.
I’ve been real hard on myself and just not doing well as of late. Sometimes it feels like two steps forward and three steps back. Other times it just feels stagnant. I’m tired a lot and depressed and struggling to remember that life is hard and that I shouldn’t give up. If I can just pull myself together, just for this moment, that’s enough for me.
If I think too much on the past or fret too much about the future, my energy levels just decline. Translation: I get worn out and stressed and way too easily overwhelmed. I don’t know if it’s because I get weirdly optimistic and then reality hits or if I’m just delusional. All I know is that as soon as I stop living in the now and put my attention on any other time, I fall apart.
It’s a struggle to remember that I’m only human and that I can make mistakes. It’s a struggle to brush my teeth, to shower, to message my friends and let them know I haven’t died yet. It’s hard to take my medications and go to therapy when I feel like everything is pointless. Fuck, the only reason I’ve been insisting on doing a blog post every day is because I promised I would and I hate breaking promises. To me, a broken promise is no better than a lie.
I feel like I’ve wrapped myself back up in a blanket of hopelessness and despair. This familiar blanket that makes reality fuzzy and twists the truth so it seems like I’ll never be good enough and never accomplish anything. It’s a heavy emptiness that I have to fight every day to overcome. When it gets so bad that all I want to do is give up, to turn back to little pills and liters of liquor to escape from the pain in my heart… All I can do is remember that I promised myself I would never fall into that trap again.
It’s a choice. It’s a choice on how I deal with my unhappiness. I know I can defeat these feelings and rediscover the joys of Reality and Truth. Because Depression and Anxiety lies. Autism doesn’t define who I am, it only explains my interactions with the rest of the world. Depression doesn’t get to dictate my life. Anxiety doesn’t get a choice in whether or not I hit up the grocer’s unless I let it choose.
Everything is a choice. Every day is a battle that I can choose to fight or surrender. And it is so easy to want to give up, to lay down my sword and say “this is it, this is the day I stop trying”. That isn’t how I want my life to be. I’d rather be exhausted by the end of the day and be able to exclaim “This is how I choose to live! This is how I fight! This is me!”.
I hate fighting. I hate conflict and I hate having to put in more effort to do the mundane than other people do. I hate having to make schedules and routines and lists in order to do anything, in order to put up a front that I can function like a standard adult. I hate knowing that this is how my life is going to be for the rest of my life. I hate how there’s no magic pill to fix the messed up brain mechanics in my head like there is for my depression. I hate knowing that I’ll most likely always be a few developmental steps behind my peers. I hate being an outsider with the world.
I hate quitting more. I hate breaking promises. I hate giving up. I hate when people expect me to stop trying and just accept that I’m not going to be able to do the things they do. I hate having to go through chaotic thought processes in order to understand how my emotions work. But I do it all anyway.
I work hard. I’ve come a long way from where I used to be and I suspect that I’ll be at an exponentially better place in a year. I keep trying and fighting and trudging through all the muck and shit that life throws at me. I still manage to keep going, even with the heavy despair and depression laying about my shoulders and dragging me down, even with my own limitations shackled on my wrists and ankles, slowing my progress further.
As long as I’m alive, I’ll keep on living. I’ll keep on fighting through the tears and the laughs and the sorrows and the pain and the smiles. I will stand up and treat myself as I would treat anyone else, with compassion and understanding. I may fail at my endeavors at times, and I may want to give up at others. But so long as my heart beats in my chest and I wake up with the first breath of morning, I can force myself to keep fighting.
Because I want to live. I want to experience all that life offers, even if I don’t think I deserve it all the time. I want to be able to look back at the end of my days and know that I conquered my demons.
And I can only do that if I continue to fight.
-The Sarcastic Autist