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This.
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Had an encounter with a customer today. She asked how much a toy is and I didn’t know as there was no barcode on the thing and no label on the shelf. So I told her I didn’t know and would get a manager to ask. The customer behind said it was £1.60, which it wasn’t and I said it wasn’t. They proceeded to get upset that I took the “joke” literally and attempted to correct them as I assumed the guy behind her thought it was £1.60 and I didn’t want her to try and buy it, thinking it was actually that price. They got really shitty and said that they can’t have a joke around here and that I was being rude and that I don’t have a sense of humour. I apologised and explained I don’t always understand sarcasm and I missed that cue there, and that I didn’t mean to be rude and she rolled her eyes. I explained that I’m autistic and because of that, I struggle to read social cues. She wasn’t having any of it. So I felt a bit that that she thought I was rude when I was just trying to tell her that it most likely wasn’t £1.60. I told the guy behind her and he felt really awkward and avoided looking at me.
I feel like people like them are all accepting of special needs and people with ASD or any other neurological condition until one actually starts exhibiting traits of the condition they have. Mad world.
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It makes me feel a different kind of disappointment knowing that my family could have got me help. There were multiple times where I asked my family for help of some sort. My first cry for help was when I was 12, then again at 14, and one final time at 17 and I never explicitly asked again. I got help myself.
If they’d got me the help I needed when I was 12 or even 14, I’d would’ve been diagnosed as autistic back then, rather than at age 19 on my own. It could’ve solved so many things. I wouldn’t be in this constant cycle where one minute, I believe my diagnosis and I accept it, then the next, I feel like a fraud and an imposter because I was diagnosed so late. I went my whole childhood and adolescence without knowing this crucial information and suffered so much because of it. If only I knew years ago, I’d be doing better and I’m mad about it. I feel alone and I feel like because I was diagnosed so late, I haven’t been autistic my whole life, but only for less than 2 years.
Thinking about the fact that other people who got the help sooner and benefited from it makes me seething with jealousy. I wish my experience was different.
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The thing that I'm still learning to accept is that neurotypical people will never fully accept you, or at least they will if it's on their terms.
I find when I meet someone and I end up trusting them enough to tell them I'm autistic, they instantly hit me with the "Oh, that's okay! I accept you!" thing, and then BAM! The next minute, or as soon as I start exhibiting my autistic behaviours (almost as if I actually have autism), they no longer accept me or like me! One minute I'm being put on this pedestal by the neurotypical person, then the next, I'm totally thrown under the bus.
Now, the first thought I have when this happens is: "What did I do wrong?" I automatically think I've offended them or done something that they don't vibe with. The tricky part, for me at least, is understanding where I went wrong or what I did to make them hate me so much. I will always ask out of curiosity so that I can learn from my mistakes, apologise, move on, and then learn from them. I don't get shitty when someone gives me CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. But the thing is, they never tell me what I've done wrong... So, I just assume they hate me and I don't know why. First emotion: Confusion - "Why do they hate me when one minute they were taking me to MacDonald's and telling me their whole life story?". Second emotion: Sadness... I've just lost another friend (at least that's what I considered them.) The third emotion is anger. I don't need to emphasise on that.
Now, what I've seen on TikTok from a lot of autistic creators, such as Paige Layle, and Morgan Foley, just to name a few, is that they also have experienced the same thing - especially when dealing with neurotypical people (or even other neurodivergent people). Now, I'm NOT saying ALL neurotypical people are bad people. That would be complete bullshit. No, what I'm saying is that a lot of neurotypical people don't have that much understanding or education on neurodiversity (especially autism, ADHD, dyspraxia, dyslexia, etc.) And that's not because they're bad people, they're just not like us. But then the same can be said about us - we are not like them, no matter how much we mask. Therefore, when someone without autism (for example), meets an autistic person who is "high-masking", they may notice there's something "off" about the person but be unaware of what it is, so naturally, they reject it (out of fear maybe?).
That being said, that does not excuse the mistreatment of disabled people. That does not justify the "average autistic experience", whereby, one is bullied, rejected, ignored, invalidated and abused just for being autistic.
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And suddenly...
The realisation hit me...
The one where I knew it is nearly over for me. I feel it inside me,
I feel it deep in my heart and I know it's nearly over.
Part of me wants to fight for chapter 22, but I know it'll be over before I've even realised.
I made a promise to go at 21, and now, the time is soon catching up to me.
I turn 21 in a few weeks,
The positive part of me knows I'm being silly, knows I'll make it to 22, but deep down,
I know...
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Der Baum steht schon lange da mein Schatz,
Er wartet nur darauf das wir uns trennen.
Der Baum steht schon da mein Schatz,
Ein wunderschöner Baum um sich zu erhängen.
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Tanz mit mir den Galgentanz,
Solänge wir... Solange wir noch nicht hängen.
Tanz mit mir den Galgentanz,
Solänge wir... Solange wir noch können.
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Either way,
I hope it's all over soon...
The agony I'm in will somehow takeout and kill me, somehow,
I just know it.
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You know what's funny
I am the one they'll come to when they need someone to talk to,
But I'm also the one they run from when I need someone to talk to.
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Being in this low mood makes me realise how much I hate my friends. I got this bad all summer last year and they did not text me, nor did they call me, or even see me. They did not even offer to come and see me or drag me out of the house. And yes, I did go out sometimes. I had a job and I've have to go there, only to be discriminated against due to my issues. They only wanted to see me when I was better.
They are doing the same now.
It's me and my Daniel now, which is better than nothing, but he lives so far and I'd love to have a real friend.
But the thing is, I've given up trying now. No one actually cares about me and would rather let me rot than try and help me.
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Being in this low mood makes me realise how much I hate my friends. I got this bad all summer last year and they did not text me, nor did they call me, or even see me. They did not even offer to come and see me or drag me out of the house. And yes, I did go out sometimes. I had a job and I've have to go there, only to be discriminated against due to my issues. They only wanted to see me when I was better.
They are doing the same now.
It's me and my Daniel now, which is better than nothing, but he lives so far and I'd love to have a real friend.
But the thing is, I've given up trying now. No one actually cares about me and would rather let me rot than try and help me.
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Dan
I can't believe I'm saying I'm jealous of you - my own boyfriend. But I am, I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't and I know I said I'd never lie to you.
You know why I'm jealous, but I don't know whether you really understand what I mean. I know a while ago I said I wanted to be just like you and that still stands true. I look at you all the time and want to base myself off of, part of it is that I'd rather be anyone else. And you know I hate me, I also know you can't see why because you don't share the same belief. What I can't understand is why you'd say you want to be like me or whatever it is you say, because I think you are bullshitting me.
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Stress
I tell you what... recently the world has been getting a bit too loud for me again. My silly brain can't handle the kind of information I am receiving. I've been given more hours at work, which I've wanted for a while. I worked a lot of hours last week and it completely burnt me out. I feel very drained all the time and I find it hard to concentrate on anything. I can't stay focused on the things I like... what kind of things do I even like, anyway? I was having this conversation with Daniel last night. I told him that I don't like anything, I have no interests or hobbies, and there's nothing I'm really interested in. I am tired all of the time... depression? I'm not depressed, though. I am bloody burnt out. I am so tired and there's no amount of sleep I could possibly have that'll fix that. There's no amount of food, games, medication, or distractions that'll protect me from seeing what's really going on.
I hear all this horrible news all the time and I can't escape it. I feel like my mind is drowning itself in these stories I've heard. Bits of gossip about horrible people, people realising they've been taken advantage of, people dying, getting killed, injured. All this stuff gets to my head. My head's a lot more sensitive than people think... I think people's perception of me is completely different to how I actually am. And yeah, sure, I'm 20, but that doesn't mean I can handle these stories that are hurled at me.
The one about the homeless man who isn't actually homeless and turns out he's a thief, he's a r*pist, a druggie, an alcoholic, has assaulted people, and for whatever reason, taken the name of his son, Joseph, in order to hide from the police, whom supposedly have warrants out for his arrest. I was nice to him and had a few good conversations with the man... I'd never suspect what kind of person he was... that was at least until he came onto me.
A story the other day where this man my family and I knew was killed in a car accident - turns out it was his fault. Well, his wife is in a coma and they might have to amputate her arm. His family are blowing lines of coke outside the morgue.
Another story where a family we know who are in court at the moment for attempted murder and conspiracy against some horrible man.
I guess it's too much for my brain. All this work and stress with other stuff isn't a good combination for me and my brain.
I don't know how all this stuff, especially with my burnout and stress plays out for other neurodivergent people. I don't know if I'm just being dramatic. But it's all getting to me more than normal. But I have these issues. I find the world gets too much for me. My brain finds itself moving at 100 mph trying to catch up with all this information that's been tossed my way. I'm thinking about my own affairs as well as those of others. And whilst this goes on, I forget to breathe. I guess I kind of lose myself in the moment and BOOM! I'm having some sort of meltdown. I have all these thoughts... ones I always have, maybe not as loud as I am having them right now... but the ones where I am thinking: "I don't belong in this world". "I'd rather be dead.", "I'd be safer if I wasn't alive." This series of thoughts then sets off my paranoia - I am now afraid that there are people after me. EVERYONE IS AFTER ME. It's triggered me. I feel guilty now. Why am I such a baby?! I hate myself for not being able to handle these things, I hate myself for being so weak all the time. I hate everything about this... and now my head hurts. The pain starts at the crown of my head, stretching down my neck to my already sore back and shoulders. I feel weak. I feel like I'm dying, and I'd secretly love to.
There's homes for people like me. That's something I just thought.
I feel safe nowhere else than with Daniel. But it is ridiculous to think that's a place I can always be. I, for the first time in many years, felt afraid to leave the house. The feeling of fear and dread I had as I walked up the road. I don't precisely know what I was so afraid of. I don't know what made me turn around, and look back at the drive. Something in me really wanted to go home. I walked up the road, still carrying the fear I'd left with, but I forced myself to carry on anyway. Of course, I was fine and I made it to the shop without anything bad happening to me. Nothing bad happened while I was there, nor did anything bad happen when I came back. It was fine.
The other day I started having heart palpitations. I wasn't too sure what was causing them. Maybe my medication? That was a common thought I was having. Sunday, I found myself in the same situation. My heart was doing the same thing - felt like I was having at least 5 beats per second, there was a scarping feeling in my heart, an almost crunchy feeling. My chest felt tight and heavy - as if someone was sitting on me. My eyes felt heavy and tired, everything felt like it was closing in on me - something that happened to me a few years ago - a silent-ish panic attack. I did not cry, nor did I really have time to react. I told a few people, including a colleague, Ed, who said I should have a sit-down.
Immediately, I Googled my symptoms - classic anxiety symptom. Of course, it told me to dial 999, go to A&E - I am having a heart attack and I will die. I did not die nor was I having a heart attack. I was not dying - I was having a panic attack. But instead of doing what I normally do - I instead felt it all in my chest and I felt afraid... more of the symptoms I was having. I'm less afraid of losing my mind than whatever was going on in my heart that evening. But, I felt better after. I felt relieved that I wasn't about to die. I was afraid if I did, I would never see Daniel again - that's what I was actually afraid of.
But, of course, that wasn't the end of my stress - I had stupid customers to deal with... then more bad news when the mother would come to collect me from work.
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