exhaustion, confusion, misunderstanding, etc
to be alive and in position to thrive but continuously fall short is an agonizing experience I wouldn't wish on anyone. for as long as I can remember, everything has always been 100x more difficult for me. those who participate in bad faith may assume that statement is a call for attention, maybe it's laziness, egocentrism, but it's really not. it feels deeply embarrassing, though I know it's not. there are no words to describe how impossible life feels sometimes - well, often. it's enraging and exceedingly confusing, to put it lightly.
cook, clean, chat with friends, exercise, eat, drink enough water, shower, read, work. I'm lucky if I get to do a few of these things successfully and don't have an absolute breakdown by the end of the week. that last one, work, only ever makes these things exponentially more difficult. ah, the ol capitalism!!!
people often don't believe you when you tell them how absolutely exhuasted you are on a daily basis. I've been told "everyone is like that!" (yikes), "it's your own doing" (lol ok asshole), "it can't be that bad!" (sure). I don't doubt people get it to a degree, but they never understand the full scope. I'm about to sound like an unruly teenager, but truly, people do not understand. they often just don't want to. it feels like an everlasting loop of being misunderstood, because with the minimizing of your feelings, also comes the twisting of your words. wash, rinse, repeat.
I try to explain the exhaustion to people like this - every single day, you're moving house. you've not hired movers, you're doing it all on your own. every single day of your entire life. not just a few days or a few weeks. every. day. and it doesn't let up, the moving never ends. you don't get a break. you have to keep going.
in high school I was diagnosed with adhd. I didn't do much about it because I didn't know anything about it. no one held my hand to help me understand and learn more, as you should with a child. I honestly forgot about the diagnosis until a couple years ago, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. a lot of things just made sense as I started to learn more about adhd.
I also started to learn more about autism. holy shit. that's the only way to put it. it's as if everything has been put into perspective. everything makes sense. I've been doing research for close to a year now, taking online assessments, both traditional and newer by accredited researchers who are actually autistic themselves, and over the past few weeks, I've started working on a journal, filling it out with displays of autism from throughout my life. I'm looking into a professional diagnosis currently, although I don't believe you have to have one. (tangent here, but I think self-diagnosis is enough. there is a great amount of disinformation and absolute misunderstanding by professionals and the general public. it's also incredibly expensive oftentimes. most autistic people attempt or complete suicide by age 35, so honestly, I don't give a fuck about a professional diagnosis which can cost thousands of dollars, is out of reach by a large percentage of the public. all that matters is people understanding themselves, that they're able to accomodate for their needs and abilities, and the people around them actually listen to and support them. an argument people make is that maybe you're misdiagnosing yourself if you're not being seen by a professional. to that, I say: shut! up! because you do not know the internal workings of people more than they themselves do. most autistic people mask! not many people are going to put tens or hundreds of hours into finding out if they're autistic if - you guessed it - they're not autistic. and if they're not autistic, but the accommodations they've made for themselves have helped them, made them not want to kill themselves, then literally who cares? if that misdiagnosis leads them further to their truer diagnosis - that's what matters.
also, fuck Autism Speaks.)
all of this is on the heels of my pcos diagnosis, and a major traumatic event, or two. my hormones are on a bender and so is my nervous system. it's a joy lol. but slowly but surely, when I can and when I have the energy, I'm learning more. I'm in a living situation where I feel safe and comfortable dealing with these things without being judged. I'm constantly learning new tools to help accommodate myself, ask for what I need. everything is a balancing act, but it's often fucking brutal.
*obviously I have to say, it's a mortifying luxury to be able to lament on all of this. there is a fucking genocide happening on the other side of the world. it's not lost on me. it's another part of the reason why this is so difficult to talk about. i still have trouble keeping myself together with a roof over my head, food in the fridge, a loving relationship, a supportive father, a car, music to listen to, books to read, a phone to type this all out on. I deeply mourn those who need the same things I need, but are being starved to death by hypocritical Israel, a state built on ethnic cleansing. those who are only experiencing discomfort on top of the difficulties of other disabilities.