Cuddle Me But Don’t Touch Me?

Constantly being surrounded by people who have it worse than you so you don’t realize how bad it is until you mention something offhandedly that you thought was funny and someone looks at you and tells you that the thing you thought was good was actually bad and then you start thinking and remembering how everything wasn’t good at all and was actually very bad

Special Interest Blabbering?

What do you do when you want to just talk for hours and hours about a special interest and no one wants to listen? Like you just want to sit them down and tell them every little thing about it, but the clearly don’t care and would get annoyed quickly. What do you do?

This. This perfectly describes what I've been experiencing lately. I have now clue why exactly it's happening.

I've looked into getting an autism diagnosis, but I'd have to keep my job, but my job is what's causing issues, but I need the job to get the- it's a cycle. And this isn't really new. It happened every year in school. I'd start off with a semi-decent amount of energy, but I'd usually run out of steam and be unable to get it back. Some year, I started with no steam and just struggled from the jump. I'd never have energy for chores or really anything. It's the same now. I have thought about crashing the car or doing other drastic things to avoid it. It sucks so much.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do as an alternative? The typical workplace isn't for me, so now what?

Why is it so fucking expensive to seek an adult autism diagnosis? I know there’s more going on with me than just my adhd. I’ve never seen anyone else with adhd that struggles quite to the extent that I am. I can’t seem to handle very basic, everyday things without getting overwhelmed. I burn out so easily to the point that my ability to function decreases even more.

For example, everyone has to work. Lots of people with adhd also manage to work, even if they end up job hopping a lot. Even when I had medication, it was like I still couldn’t handle the stress. I would have a whole breakdown every day before work, literally thinking about harming myself or wrecking my car intentionally to avoid having to be there, feeling this crushing dread, anger, exhaustion, the negative thought spirals throughout the day, getting off or ending the week and not even being able to relax or enjoy yourself because the knowledge that you have to go back so soon is looming over you. Not being able to sleep because of the crushing dread of knowing you have to wake up and get back on that metaphorical treadmill, having nightmares about it when you do sleep.

Obviously the easy answer would be to simply get a different job, but the thing is that this has been every job I’ve ever had…and I’ve had a LOT of them. It isn’t just the work, though that feeling of not doing something that feels meaningful is definitely soul-crushing, but no, instead it’s the stress of pushing past a severe level of executive function until I no longer can and I begin to make mistake after mistake. It’s the draining exhaustion of seeing the same people and being forced into the same small talk. It’s not having any energy left to clean my house, cook, have a life, or pursue my special interests/hyperfixations. It’s feeling trapped in a schedule that doesn’t work with my needs or energy levels and eventually turns me into a shell of my former self. It’s knowing that each time I get fired and have that time to recover before being forced to re-enter the world that I never fully get back to what I once was. I lose a piece of myself and my ability to function lessens each time.

It’s frustrating because it’s like if I could just manage to work and keep working full time long enough, I could get insurance and get assessed, because I know deep down I’m on the spectrum…but I’ve gotten fired before that happens each time. It’s like I’m trapped in this cycle of not functioning well without support but not having the resources to seek a diagnosis so that I can get support. I feel like the system has failed me and like I’ve slipped through the cracks. It’s hard to have much hope because everyone always tells people that you have to help yourself or change what you don’t like, but it’s like I’m literally unable to get to the point where I can even do that.

this is a redo of an old post. it deals with more negative feelings than usual for the trans stuff but, those feelings are important too

About Boston Dynamics’ Spot pinching points diagram

Parents always say this:

"You're smart. Therefore, it's okay for me to expect more of you."

"You're smart. Therefore, I don't have to care how I explain things to you."

"You're smart. Therefore, it's okay for me to assume that any mistakes you make are intentional."

"You're smart. Therefore, if you say that you struggle with something, it's okay for me to assume that you're just lazy, afraid, lacking confidence, lacking motivation, or any other excuse to dismiss your struggles as fake.

but never this:

"You're smart. Therefore, I will put my authority aside and consider the possibility that you are right and I am wrong.

Like any abusive authority figure, they want you to be smart enough to uphold their authority but not smart enough to challenge their authority.

Stop Lying You Narcissistic mf

My mom literally tried to say she knew about the neurodivergencies, but they “Didn’t matter because they didn’t affect your academics” even though i constantly got spanked for bad grades. You would think I would learn my lesson the first ten times. She didn’t know about the possible adhd and autism anyway. No one was allowed to make implications about her “gifted” children.

Once again, the failed prototype takes a backseat to its creator's magnum opus. That's how it always happens.

A frame, gifted to me for my birthday sat empty because I had no friends and no fun memories with which to fill it.

They were put there instead.

"This is temporary."

It wasn't.

I used to shine so brightly, the brightest star in the sky, blocking out so many others. I was the pride of the galaxy. Now that I'm older, I've burned out and essentially been replaced. I lay here, wasting away with little to show for the time I've spent living.

I was gifted a frame once again. This time, it had something in it. A photo of the stars, the way they were in the sky over the place I was born, on the very night I was born.

Their photo sits on top of mine. In my frame.

How fitting. How poetic.

"Don't act like they're the favorite. Or like they have special privileges."

They clearly are, and they do.

I felt almost numb about it at first. I didn't want to be bothered by it, but I was. The tears fell immediately. I can barely complain about it. It always ends in my words being brushed off or a full blown argument. Never an apology or even an admission of wrongdoing.

How dare you. How dare you do this. It's such a small act, but the hate and disrespect feel earth shattering. I know I'm being dramatic, and it hurts that much more because of it. I know I sound crazy for crying and complaining about it. After all, it's a picture frame. It's not the end of the world. It feels like it, though. I'm literally nauseous.

"You have to toughen up. You can't be a soggy little sad sack."

I don't want to toughen up. People who have to steel themselves often lose their compassion, empathy, and patience. That's one of the many things I hate and fear. Those emotions don't disappear. They only fester and ferment until they bubble over. You could've had juice, and then maybe wine, but no. Now you have vinegar, and you can't just keep trying to hold it in. It will escape whether you like it or not. You can't keep pouring more juice into a full glass and expect it to not spill.

I shouldn't have to toughen up about this. Something so stupid shouldn't be happening in the first place. They knew the pictures were coming. They could've bought a new frame. They aren't expensive.

"His picture is from an achievement. Yours isn't. What do you need the frame for? You have no achievements and you haven't since you were younger."

I wanted to break the frame as soon as I saw the picture. Life has been kicking my ass, and I managed to keep my cool until I came home that terrible night and saw that photo.

Why do I have to be the broken, failed prototype? Why do I have to be defective? It isn't fair.