May 1, 2016

Autistic regression, or faking it til I burn out?

Posted in Uncategorized at 1:16 am by merelyquirky

When people ask me why I don’t have kids (and I get asked by pretty much every new customer at work) I just say that some of us aren’t meant to have kids and leave it at that. What I really mean is that I have a hard enough time taking care of myself. 

I only work 28 hours per week (my choice), but sometimes I do cat-sitting when my mother’s friend goes out of town. But it involves going to two different houses on opposite sides of town, twice/day each– first thing in the morning and last thing at night. This totally interrupts my ‘gearing up’ for my day, and my ‘winding down’ process at night. So for the last 23 days, my sleep has been irregular at best, and about half of what I need. I haven’t been eating well, regularly, or enough, so add wacky blood sugar to the list. 

Every time, I ask why I do this to myself. It pays pretty well, that’s why, and I tell myself it’s only for a little while. But when her vacations are 2 to 2 1/2 weeks, it’s too much. And now I see that the back of my mind tells me I OUGHT to have no problem with this, it OUGHT to be easy money. Like other NORMAL people. Sleep deprivation raises all my semi-controlled problems to the surface, I get depressed and beat myself up for it.

And I remember my first adult job that ended up with a suicide attempt and the emergency room psychiatrist signing commitment papers on me. (His supervisor rescinded the order, and ‘ordered’ me to go live with my mother. She was an unemployed alcoholic, but apparently that is still better than the state hospital.)

When I am overwhelmed, my ability to order my life disintegrates. I haven’t been to the grocery store in almost a month. Bills aren’t getting paid. I’m taking fewer showers. And the house makes me worry that the furnace repairman will call the health department on me.

Although these realizations come to me eventually, I am unable to act on them. Looking at the state of my life means having to get out of bed in the morning makes me wail and rock. While I’m still under the covers. This does not bode well for my chances at making any improvements in the future; I feel like an incompetent poser. I’m in my mid-40s, and again, feel like I OUGHT to be able to do this NORMAL ADULT thing. But I can’t.

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