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In March, I was really in a down moment in my life. I was turning 36, and I am inching closer to 40 with nothing to relate to with my peers, unless it’s those peers that are in the same boat! Yes, because feeling the very same feels will turn all boats.
My mother is going through intense grief, while I have been identified as her “rock”. And it wasn’t the first time me or others heard that uttered. Not to mention I started elementary school in 1993, 30 years to the day last month. Given my grandmother’s grave state, I was unable to reflect, and given that I had traveled to Londonderry (or around there) about a handful of times after her passing, it set the trauma markets of feeling like I was not enough by any means, and I was just that resource-room kid who they felt I was not as equal to them.
my present therapist is antsy, often over generalizing, over sympathizing what is not in reality, because that individual doesn’t look at individual cases, not to mention US English isn’t their native tongue. My mother had gotten blindsided with the monthly benefits, so we need to turn the clock to when I was 18 and re-apply for eligibility; only because of a mismatch in paperwork,
Politically I am scared to death because “we are one election away” from an extremist who hates Massachusetts. Not to mention everything I have discussed over the last year in a half with politicians trying to regulate tolerance through preaching intolerance.
I feel like a goddamned misfit. I feel like in the state I live in “freedom” only applies to a handful of people with very little accountability, and responsible people are paying for those groups’ freedoms. Average men are treated as creeps!
No one understands the pain I have to absorb and right now I do not have any support people to help me with my cognitive differences. People who are reading is like “well you’re so high functioning, how can you not understand?
I was home alone on and off for almost a month and a half by no ones fault of their own; however I was really unable to discuss what was going on. Therapy sessions had to be on Zoom. I was trying to keep calm and carry on, but now I can’t even fucking cry!
The warning signs goes as far back as 2018 into 2019, I needed many hands as possible, and guess, what? my mother has to take the emotional burden of what I had to go through.
DSM-IV era autism is not as common as people think. Not too many people get-it, they think my father should’ve parented me instead, and fuck me up in a different way.
I am drained, my bandwidth has been maxed out, and I can’t process anymore. What’s next, other individuals feeding me their emotional stimuli that I can’t process.
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