I had a choice today; a simple choice that could make a huge difference in my life.
I’ve been feeling like I don’t want to be here anymore for a few weeks now (not suicidal – just a wish to not exist). A feeling that if there was a magic button and I had a choice to remove myself from existence, I’d press it.
The world has felt bad and I’ve been feeling miserable. My OCD is bad, my self-esteem is bad and my anxiety is through the roof and whenever this happens a simple question goes through my mind “Things are always going to end up like this so what’s the bloody point?”.
I suppose it’s normal to be negative whilst being depressed but it still sucks. Knowing that I’m going to have to deal with my autism related OCD and anxiety for the rest of my life is horrible to think about and it hurts to think about.
Whilst being in this vortex of misery other aspects of your life gets sucked in too – aspects such as your schoolwork, your appearance and the tidiness of your room. As seemingly inconsequential as these three things seem, they all add up and lead to a very depressing situation.
So after all that; my choice came today. My exams are starting in the next week – exams I’m woefully underprepared for – and the thought of doing any studying felt impossible. It was physically and mentally straining to pull out my textbooks and open my laptop. I confess I nearly quit twice and I nearly threw my laptop in frustration.
But I chose to keep studying; and I ended up doing some good revision. Despite every part of me wanting to curl up in my bed and want to die – I chose to do something productive and it has made me feel better. Schoolwork feels that little bit less worrisome and I feel more in control of my life.
I’m still not feeling 100% – or even 50% but it’s a start and after today I want to keep trying.
DISCLAIMER: This is going to be a very depressing post. I’m feeling very negative surrounding my autism and differences.
Today I feel bad. I feel guilty for saying this because it’s not very positive but it’s how I am currently feeling and so I’m going to share it. I feel like a mistake of a human being. I don’t work properly. I have OCD, low self-esteem and I have autism.
It’s not even autism that makes me so wrong. My problem is myself. There is no escape from being who I am and it is becoming very difficult to deal with. The autism just adds to it.
I feel like a broken toy in a factory conveyer belt. I was the one mistake in a perfect batch of toys and no matter how hard the factory workers try, I can’t be fixed.
My brain doesn’t work properly and I’m feeling more and more aware of this fact every single day. I just want to be normal and I just want to be able to not be autistic for a day to see if what I’m feeling is autistic or just an average emotion.
My brain just doesn’t work properly. Explaining how or why is impossible – a bit like describing a colour to someone who can’t see. All I know is that there is something wrong with my brain and I can’t fix it.
I want the autism to be erased; like how the toy repairman from Toy Story 2 wipes over the signature of Andy’s name with paint, leaving him perfect. I want to be free to not have to constantly fight or give in to my OCD and I want the chance to be an average person who has the average social skills and an average brain.
It feels never ending today. It feels like I’m trapped in my own stupid brain that does not understand how to be a human. My brain does not work and consequently I do not work and there is nothing I can do except struggle.
But what do you do with the broken parts of a toy? Perhaps you make something new out of it. Or perhaps you chuck them in the bin. Time will tell.
Thanks for reading. I’m sorry if this is depressing. Bear in mind that I do not think there is anything wrong with being autistic or having mental health problems – I’m just kind of the personification of “Don’t let me get me” By P!nk today.
Today I just feel so desperately unhappy and it’s hard.
On the 27th of March 2021 I will turn 18 years old – officially an adult and I have very mixed feelings about it. On one hand I’m excited to get birthday presents and cake. On the other, I feel a deep sadness.
The sadness doesn’t stem from the fact that this is my second birthday in lockdown and I can’t go out to celebrate-although that doesn’t help. My sadness is to do with the fact that I grieve the childhood I could have had, had I not had OCD.
I grieve every time I held my breath as a primary school student as I entered my bedroom due to the fear that I’d “contaminate” the room with my breath. I regret never using my iPod as a little girl because I was scared that I’d “ruin” it. I regret not playing with my toys because I thought that I was “contaminated” and would “destroy” my favourite thing. And I regret spending countless childhood birthdays crying, refusing to touch my presents and not enjoying being a kid.
A normal childhood would’ve been so easy for me if I didn’t have OCD; if a few neurological connections between synapses and nerves were different, I could’ve had a normal, happy childhood.
Whether you had mental health problems, family problems, suffered a trauma, were bullied or anything else that stopped you from enjoying your birthdays and your childhood; it can be hard to accept that you’re growing up.
I wanted to be “uncontaminated” and the way I thought other girls were like. I wanted to be able to touch my toys without showering and holding my breath before hand. And now I have managed to deal with my OCD enough to be able to touch my belongings but it was too late.
I’m nearly 18 and I no longer receive toys for birthdays and Christmas’s. I’m nearly 18 and whilst I lack the motivation to play with action figures or dolls – I grieve not being happy when I could have been and when I wanted to be.
I doubt I’ve ever been sure how to act in conversation. I take on the role of who I think I should be in different circumstances. It never really works of course, there are only so many mannerisms you can copy from people in your life before your real opinions and thoughts are revealed.
Since my diagnosis I’ve noticed that I’m acting the way I think an autistic person should act. Try that for irony? I’m even being autistic about being autistic. These days in a difficult conversation I avoid eye contact, not because I hate it or feel uncomfortable looking people in the eye, but because I feel like people understand that I am uncomfortable. I play with my sleeve and avoid eye contact because when I do this adults who know about my diagnosis (which is most people) understand how I’m feeling. I take on the persona or role of having autism despite the fact that I actually have it. I know that many autistic people dislike making eye contact so I’ve adopted that in taking upon my role.
It makes me feel guilty, like I’m stealing from people but I can’t help it. It’s both subconsious and consious, I didn’t know I was doing it at first but then I noticed it worked. People could understand the obvious signs of distress especially how I usually make good eye contact and would understand that I was feeling stressed or upset.
I’m not good at figuring out what is the right thing to say, do or think. I struggle to understand people’s feelings sometimes and this makes me sad. I get angry with myself for not being able to decipher the correct things to say, do, act or think.
So what can I do? The truth is I’m not sure but right now I’m going to watch some YouTube and distract myself from being angry with myself.
I’m still not doing good. That shouldn’t be a surprise. Right now I just don’t care about anything. I’ve showered now three nights in a row giving into my OCD and it feels acceptable. Avoiding going into my room and scrapbooking due to spilling some ketchup on my leggings feels acceptable now.
I can’t care enough to study. I can’t make myself care enough to try and cope. I’m not sitting and crying and I’m not depressed enough to not care about contamination but I’m by no means happy.
I was so anxious about contaminating my room with ketchup that I spent hours in my little brothers room during the day. I was sleeping in his bed, my logic being that if I have a shower now when I go for dinner I could get “contaminated” and then I’d have to shower again. So instead I opted for sleeping in order to make the day go quicker.
I don’t want to be better and that’s the problem. I don’t feel any motivation or need to not feel like this anymore. The worst part is that I know that I could probably force myself to fight back against my OCD, it’s just that I don’t want to. There doesn’t seem to be a point.
My OCD is shocking today. I’ve broken my own rules by showering two days in a row for the sole purpose of pleasing my OCD. I don’t even care though; that seems completely irrelevent to me right now.
I can’t find myself caring enough to do anything right now. My parents are annoying me ( a sign I’ve not had enough sleep ) and I’m feeling frustrated by the fact that it seems life is going to take a lot longer to get back to normal due to COVID-19.
My printer is not working – which was the only thing keeping me calm and busy. Printing off photos and stickers for my sketch book was a happy distraction and coping mechanism but thanks to shoddy WiFi it won’t bloody work.
I just don’t care anymore again. I’m finding that challenging my OCD is not working when there feels like there is nothing to challenge it for.
And then like a sign from the heavens, a pesky moth flew into my bedroom. Scared of having a moth fly into my mouth whilst asleep or secretly die somewhere only to give me a heart attack when found three months later, I enlisted help to get it out of my bedroom. At first I called my Dad but he made it clear there was nothing he could do. Determined to rid myself of the moth I enlisted my nine-year-old brother’s help – though I had to make it clear stomping on it was not an option.
We managed to lure the creature into my en suite bathroom. I managed to catch it in a plastic sheet of paper and throw it out the window – only for the little shit to imediately fly back in again. Eventually my twelve year old sister joined the crusade and managed to single handedly remove the moth from my bathroom. Afterwards we all laughed and now my little brother is sitting in my room intensely telling me about his video game theories.
Even though I feel like crap right now – a half hour ago I was angry, upset and depressed and I’m still those things – but I feel slightly better. What I’m trying to say that sometimes life gives you lemons, other times it gives you moths. So make lemonade or go on a mission with your siblings to try and rescue a moth.
So I started my home learning experience today. Actually I didn’t start anything – that was the problem. I spent hours staring at my assigned work and barely wrote the date and title. I could not focus no matter how hard I tried, so I decided to have a break from my work today.
If only I could have a break from my brain. I’ve been compulsively washing my hands and mouth. The backs of my hands and my lower face have the rough texture of dry skin that is eerily familiar to when my OCD was at it’s worst. The dry flakes of skin caused by my washing aswell as my acne are what my OCD calls “contaminated” so I feel extremely uncomfortable in my own skin. Everything feels wrong and I want to throw something – or many things.
I can’t focus in my schoolwork and I can’t focus being in my own body. Everything in the world feels wrong and I feel wrong. Part of me wants to have a shower – to give in to my OCD to the extreme sense of not just washing my hands/face but having a full-on “decontamination” but I’ve spent too long training myself to only have a shower every two days.
The world is crazy right now. I want to go to a spa type place and get my skin sorted or at least helped. I want to go on holiday and relax in Center Parcs and most of all I want to go to my therapist and the autism support place I recently joined. I want to not feel like everything I own is going to be ruined by myself.
I’m trying to distract myself by listening to music or scrapbooking but when you’re high on OCD anxiety the sound from headphones or a speaker is too much of a sensory problem; the process scrapbooking is also very difficult when you are frightened of “ruining” everything you own.
It’s one o’clock in the morning as I am writing this draft and only one thing is on my mind: I wish I could speak to my psychologist.
I’ve done two or three zoom calls months and months ago which went well, however the real thing is no doubt better for a number of reasons. The first of them being that it’s awkward with internet connection; especially for someone like me whose house is notorious for having dreadful WiFi and secondly, because I would not be comfortable talking about intrusive thoughts over the video call – it would feel weird for me.
My psychologist who I have not seen in at least five months by my own reluctance to zoom- and my previous improvement in dealing with my OCD which also meant less need for appointments- is a child phycologist and guess what? Soon I will no longer be a child.
I was supposed to have more time with my psychologist over the last year. A pandemic was not supposed to happen and intervene in my improvements. I wasn’t supposed to have to grow up without being able to visit my therapist because of a virus. I suppose a lot of people will be feeling like this and I know that I am very lucky in the grand scheme of things – a lot of people have had to cope with a lot worse this past year.
I wish I could make it all go away. I’m feeling exhausted by lack of sleep, guilt, worry and regret. I wish I could give being normal – whatever the hell that means – a go for a day and spot the difference. I wish that I could’ve worked out some of my problems with my psychologist and psychiatrist (who are wonderful doctors and people by the way) during the past year in a world where the pandemic never happened. If wishes were horses.
But I can’t change what has happened. I can only sit here, in my pitch black room after resisting the urge to give in to my OCD. My skin spotty and hair slightly greasy due to the poor dietary choices I’ve been making lately. I can watch the shadows form around the light of my iPhone screen, my Alexa playing the soft sound Distant Thunderstorm in the background and hope that somehow, tomorrow will be better.