Today has been a bit of a mixed bag of lollies. I finally slept last night, but found that manic energy that I usually get at night was still with me when I woke up. I found myself cranking it up with lots of music. I found a kindred soul on Reddit, “mad-isobel”. I read one of her replies to a forum about mania being worse at night, which was the most interesting and insightful reply there: Continue reading “Today and grief over friend”
I want to write a post about Autistic Burnout. I’m not sure I really like using labels such as autism because no two autistic beings are the same and having the same diagnoses doesn’t mean you’re going to get on with somebody. But Autistic Burnout is still a thing which more people need to be aware of.
According to AASPIRE, “autistic burnout is a state of physical and mental fatigue, heightened stress, and diminished capacity to manage life skills, sensory input, and/or social interactions, which comes from years of being severely overtaxed by the strain of trying to live up to demands that are out of sync with our needs.” Continue reading “Autistic Burnout”
Weekends are always particularly shit for some reason. I relapsed with the alcohol on Sat night. I was in so much pain, more emotionally than physically. I felt so alone. I fear I will never be able to fill this hunger inside of me. I took pills and drank until I was hazy and felt like a ghost. The warmth numbed my ear pain and it was nice to be in an altered state where I didn’t have to feel my body, though I could still hear my stomach carrying on. I think hearing is the last sense to go. Finally I fell asleep. I tried my best not to overdo it with the alcohol. I could have done a lot worse. It was no where near as bad as last year’s overdoses, but I still drank too much and it’s just made everything worse. I’m scared my body’s never going to be the same after Saturday’s drinking. I have so much regret, but I just couldn’t talk myself out of it at the time, even though I knew it was toxic. I’m still fucked from my overdoses last year which left me with POTS, a tremor and a bounding pulse. I’m thinking of leaving my alcohol at my mum’s house so I don’t do it again. Continue reading “The weekend: alcohol relapse”
It’s been a wild ride lately with some pretty dramatic shifts in energy and mood. I have been seeing double digits everywhere, particularly the number five. According to one source, “in spiritual contexts, the number 5 often symbolizes change, freedom, adventure, and adaptability, representing a willingness to embrace new experiences and challenges.”
I’ve been cycling so rapidly I feel like a ragdoll being tossed about in the sea. One minute I’m falling asleep on my physio’s massage table, the next I have so much energy I’m pulverising everyone at badminton, the next I’m ready to smash a window, the next I want to bawl my eyes out, the next I’m drowning in sadness, the next I feel connected to everyone, the next I feel connected to no one, the next I’m on cloud nine, the next I’m nauseous and faint from anxiety and can feel all the chemicals ripping apart my insides, and the next I’m in pure physical hell. This can all happen in the course of a single day.
I have been having what I believe to be a spiritual ascension. There is a great article about five different types of spiritual ascensions on lonerwolf.com
“All that’s made me
Is all worth trading
Just to have one moment with you
So I will let go
Of all that I know
Knowing that you’re here with me
For your love is changing me”
Trading Yesterday- May I
Yesterday I had another session with my physio. He is always so kind to me (he even offered to look at my computer which I was having problems with; I told him I’d consider bringing it in so he can do some physiotherapy on it!). I’m always late and apologise, but he just seems happy I’ve got there at all. He did some more work on my TMJ, and was gentler than last time as he knew I had a few issues after the last treatment. He did admit that he did more than he was planning to last time because I let him and should have been more careful given how sensitive I am.
“It it ok if you take your hat off?” he asked me before he began. I was dressed up as an emo with a black studded beanie. I took it off and covered my face with it. I actually felt more comfortable like this. He preferred to see my face to gage whether I was ok, but I kept most of it covered with the beanie.
Continue reading “Physiotherapy, touch starvation, sleep, adult babies, trust issues”
“For I am finding out that love will kill and save me
Taking the dreams that made me up
And tearing them away
But the same love will take this heart that’s barely beating
And fill it with hope beyond the stars
Only love”
– Trading Yesterday, “The Beauty & The Tragedy”
I struggle to remember the past few weeks, but I do know that I haven’t been sleeping and my stomach still won’t shut up. Sometimes it sounds like water gurgling down the bathtub drain, other times like a creaking door or like my stomach is full of frogs. Every little thing is agonising; just filling a glass of water feels like running a marathon. I’m angry all the time, I want to cry all the time yet all the tears are stuck inside, and I’m exhausted. Yet I do feel the sun peaking through the clouds a bit more. My mood is slightly better, I’m a bit more active, I’m playing badminton again, my physio is ridiculously nice and patient, my mum has been kindly making me meals that comply to my new diet, and I have been commissioned by my favourite vegetarian restaurant to take some photos of the place. The restaurant is run by a couple who are also neurodivergent. They really get me, and always seat me in the quietest spot away from everyone else. They gave me some times when the restaurant will be empty for me to take the photos, which is great as I get flustered around other people. Continue reading “Update: depression, insomnia, fashion, gut issues, annoying neighbours, losing things, favourite person”
“It is said that before entering the sea a river trembles with fear. She looks back at the path she has travelled, from the peaks of the mountains, the long winding road crossing forests and villages. And in front of her, she sees an ocean so vast, that to enter there seems nothing more than to disappear forever. But there is no other way. The river can not go back. Nobody can go back. To go back is impossible in existence. The river needs to take the risk of entering the ocean because only then will fear disappear, because that’s where the river will know it’s not about disappearing into the ocean, but of becoming the ocean.” Khalil Gibran
I will have to go over emails I’ve sent people to help me remember the last week. Writing and art are usually people’s only glimpse into my inner world, a dark and terrifying place, though that inner world is starting to spill over into the outside world now. Continue reading “Not here again: the development of a new “favourite person”, dissociation, existential crisis, and demonic possession”
hsphaven 