When Nothing is Okay

Sometimes I use this blog to vent. There is something about telling people how you feel, even if you know you probably won’t feel that way very long. I’ve been struggling for a few days with feeling overwhelmed. I’ve had a lot going on with school and work and family and friends and other activities. I have felt like I was done for a few weeks now. Work has been draining, even though it is the same work as always. I haven’t really felt like doing homework or even school in general. Friends were about the only thing I had left that wasn’t hard. So, this past week when everything didn’t go perfectly with my friends, it broke what was left in me.

It wasn’t that things went horribly wrong so much as things have just been overwhelming lately. I feel more sensitive, more prone to taking things personally or blowing things out of proportion. So last night when I posted that I was done, it wasn’t so much that I was really done as that I wanted to be done. I wanted a break from the madness. It is difficult and confusing when nothing is wrong, and yet nothing feels okay- when you have everything under control, but feel like things are not going how they should- when you are completely fine, but yet, one step away from a total breakdown.

I am trying to figure out how to keep going when nothing is okay. People try to be understanding of everything going on, and they do help, but there are days when I am just not okay. Am I really done with helping people? No. But… maybe I’m just done with pretending to be okay for a while. Maybe I’m done with trying so hard to do everything when I feel like I don’t get as much back in return. Maybe I’m accepting that I’m not always going to be okay and that sometimes I just need to take a break from life and people and just be.

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Losing my Grip

I haven’t been okay for a while. I feel like I’m drowning. My dreams are disturbing and my waking thoughts are not much better. I lose hold of reality though I try to cling to the things I want to feel real.

I took a couple days off work to try to get back to a semblance of normal. It helped, but I still feel like I’m sliding down a mountainside, trying to find a grip in loose dirt.

I have panicked. I have broken. I have completely freaked out. My brother was telling me something the other day, and I yelled at him and then kept screaming because I just couldn’t stop.

All I keep thinking is that I’m not okay. I’m not okay, and I don’t know when I will ever be okay again.

My family is visiting. I love them, but I can’t handle it. I can’t handle the stress of everyone being here. I have always been the one expected to hold it all together, but now I am falling apart.

I’m trying to cling to a reality that doesn’t feel like it exists. I’m trying to get a grip on life that feels like it’s slipping through my fingers. I’m trying to do anything to be okay again.

Is this normal? It doesn’t feel normal… I feel like something is wrong with me, and I don’t know how to fix it. I just keep hoping for a better tomorrow because I’m doing everything else I can think of to be okay.

Connecting the Heart

Sometimes I forget why I write. I mean, I write for a lot of reasons, but I forget the most important ones. Then I take a few minutes to read other people’s posts about suicide, depression, not fitting in or being different, and I remember… I write because my heart connects. My heart connects with the hard things. My heart connects with the suicidal thoughts, depression, fear, loss, identity questions or struggles. My heart connects with the feelings of hopelessness, loneliness, fear. And I write because I want your heart to connect too, and maybe then we can be broken together.

Not Depressed

Sometimes not being depressed is depressing.

I know I’m not in a state of depression anymore because I can actually get out of bed in the morning and it isn’t so hard. I know I’m not depressed anymore because I can do normal things like clean my room and do laundry and wash dishes without feeling emotionally spent. I can drive my commute without thinking of suicide. But… I still have moments of sadness, loneliness, pain, and even despair.

Sometimes it is hard to realize how difficult life is even though it has gotten easier. I still cry over stupid stuff. I still eat more cookies than I should when I had a rough day. I still silently scream when I feel trapped and ignored. I still feel pain and sorrow and broken to my core at times.

The difference is I have hope. I may cry myself to sleep, but tomorrow is a new day. I wake up and I might be tired, but I know I can do this. Life is hard. Even when you’re not depressed, life can still feel depressing. But there is hope. There is always hope.

And I hope you can see that.

Loving My Brokenness

Prayers are answered in strange ways sometimes. Sometimes it is through our weaknesses and brokenness that our most sincere and important prayers are answered.

I am constantly amazed by how well things all work out. I have struggled with depression for as long as I can remember, and I’ve always had autism. But I never suspected that depression would help me with autism.

I started going to therapy a couple months ago because I was thinking about suicide often enough that I thought I might attempt it again. I had gotten to the point where I just had to do something because I just couldn’t keep living the way I was. I needed something to change. So even though I didn’t feel therapy had ever helped me in the past, it was the only thing I could think of. 

I am so grateful that I got to that point of depression and suicidal ideation because it made me turn to therapy, and this therapy is one of the most amazing things that has ever happened to me. It has helped me so much with my struggles with autism. It has helped me with the deeper thoughts that lead to wanting self injury or death. It has helped me with self image and being a better friend and better person in general.

It’s not fun to be broken, but there is definite beauty in the brokenness. I am learning to love my brokenness because it leads me to help I wouldn’t have sought, friends I wouldn’t have made, and understanding I wouldn’t have had. I love being broken because I feel the difference it has made in my life. I am a better person because of the broken pieces of my life that have become something beautiful.

You Make Me Feel Broken

This post is directed at no one in particular, but is a general response to the way autism is portrayed in society and media.

Yesterday I listened to a speaker who talked about handling rejection. He said that people handle rejection at different layers. At the outer layer, we hear the criticism, but don’t feel the need to change ourselves. At the next layer, we take the criticism personally and feel that we are being attacked in some way. And at the innermost layer, we take the criticism to heart and believe we are flawed and hopeless.

Well… after the speaker finished, I went up and talked to him about this. Because the truth is, autism hits me at the innermost layer. When something that I feel is related to autism causes a problem, I feel flawed, broken, and hopeless.

The other day someone misunderstood me and became upset with me for how I handled a situation. For the first time in my life, I admitted that I had autism not because I wanted to but because I felt I had to. And I felt so broken after that. Because it’s not gone. Autism is not cured and it doesn’t disappear. We just learn to seem normal. But when problems come up, autism is still there. And it cuts me to the core to realize that because I can’t change it. I can’t get rid of autism and the world keeps telling me indirectly, or even directly, how much of a problem that is.

And so, I feel broken. Even though no one has told me that I’m broken, I keep feeling it. Every time I see or hear of a parent who is devastated with their child’s diagnosis or I see videos about “the harsh reality of autism” or someone carries on about vaccines causing autism, the idea that I am flawed becomes more and more ingrained in me. And I can’t help but feel broken.