I feel like shit.
But I do. I’m not down, well I am but not in a depressed way, not classic depression.
I’m ….. exasperated. Fed up. Tired of nothing working. I don’t mean work because that’s a whole series of novels in its own right but I mean me, physically and mentally.
Up early again. Sleep is weird, up and down, never restful. Too much on my mind. Too much in my bladder occasionally. And I rarely get up to pee but all of a sudden I need to.
So, that’s disrupted. Annoying, never waking refreshed. Whatever that is.
I’m in daily contact with the Samaritans. They’re an outlet. I’m on edge. I’m overwhelmed and underwhelmed by life. I’m close to snapping but still fighting. But with less energy.
Medication working insofar as the physical fatigue in my leg muscles is about 60% better. But that’s it. I still ache. Spend too long in the same place and the stiffness and pain returns with a vengeance. Brain fog just as bad and there’s still no energy, no clarity.
Still feel trapped.
I just don’t get the world. Don’t get my place in it. At 51 I feel the end is much nearer than the beginning. In pure numbers I’m probably right but on days like these I feel death is just around the corner. I’m worn so thin, stretched to the maximum.
The waters quite turbulent. It’s frothing and churning. Times passing and I don’t seem to be able to fashion an opening through which to escape.
Vicious circle syndrome.
Round and round we go.
I’m part of a community I feel alienated from. I try and be supportive of others and, well, sometimes I don’t feel I get that in return. Should I expect it ?. No idea, but occasionally, more occasionally, it would be nice.
I guess I don’t add anything. I’m not be of those clever people on the spectrum. I’m not artistic or know the latest research or the right words. I’m just an ordinary Autistic guy and well, that puts me at a disadvantage. You only fit in if you talk the talk or walk the walk. Or you know the right people. The right crowd. I note how supportive they are of each other.
Perhaps I’m over thinking it. Over analysing. Yeah that’s very Autistic. Trying to work out the meanings, what’s really going on, breaking the surface to what lies beneath.
I just know how old I feel. How…..detached. How out of time I am.
I’m 51 going on 91.
I’m so fed up with everything. I moan too much. Got it. Sorry. Try not to. Seriously I do try, I desperately don’t want to be this way. It annoys me so much. Part of it I can’t help, it’s innate, it’s my Autism giving vent to what upsets it, confuses it, bewilders it and wobbles the equilibrium.
I’m sitting by the lake. The ripples are rippling faster, they’re agitated, frustrated and they want out, they want to surge over the edge and engulf me.
I’m trying so hard not to let that happen..