Black Wednesday, a glimmer of hope

Fucking aspergers. I hate it. I know you shouldn't wish ill upon yourself, but I sometimes wonder if it might be better to have a physical condition than aspergers. With physical conditions you realise your limitations and can plan your life accordingly. With aspergers it's all so random. You never know where it's going to drop you. Two days ago I was the happiest bunny alive. Within two days my autistic mind had turned it into a whirlwind of negativity. I felt wretched and broken, so desperately sad. O city of dreadful night.
I spoke to my brother today and I'm glad that I did. Yes, fucking aspergers again. Shitty fucking aspergers. As usual I was the one who had misunderstood. I'm very good at that, and sometimes think I should be awarded a degree in it. As my friend who texted me yesterday rightly pointed out, he had understood my aspergers behaviour. I am so happy, as I was convinced I had killed our friendship.
To any of my close friends who are reading this, I am so sorry for what I have to write next. You see I couldn't possibly talk about it, so feel compelled to write.
I attempted suicide when I was 17. I was still living at home with my mum and the bastard she'd married. I'd had untold quantities of emotional cruelty heaped upon me for:
1) Being in the way (they'd only just married, and they wanted me out of the way)
2) My sexuality (They hated it and tried to get it 'cured' by a psychiatrist, with whom I naturally didn't co-operate. My mum worked out for herself that I was 'gay' when I was sixteen, so she made me go to school in girl's trousers).
By the age of seventeen years and four months I was no longer able to cope. I could never initiate a conversation so could'n form any friendships or relationships. I used to pick blokes up just so I wouldn't have to go home. Anyway I couldn't take any more of it so took a load of tablets from the first aid box in the kitchen. Being the coward I am I got frightened so drank loads of salty water to make myself vomit. My retching and puking woke up my mum's husband and he stood there with a face like thunder. I went to bed and went to work as normal the next day. When I got home my mum accused me of trying to wreck her new marriage, and told me to get out if I didn't like it. Within a fortnight I picked up someone and had moved in with him, just to get away from them.
My mum died when I was forty-and-a-half years old. That hit me hard. My biological family were true to type and were like a pack of grave robbers. I had a breakdown and  became homeless. I wasn't destitute though because I had two different sofas and a floor to sleep on. About a year or so later I was settled in a flat  and had landed the job that I've just been made redundant from. I hated it. I was still poorly with depression, and this was exacerbated by the fact that I was unable to take my place on a higher degree course. On that occasion I had the funding, but was mentally incapable. Anyway I went to the works christmas 'do'. It was awful. The people were awful. I hated it so much that I drank three bottles of wine just to get myself through it. When I got home I took about ten paracetamol tablets. I couldn't even get that right. I went to work the next day feeling like shit.
You will gather that I found yesterday very distressing. Candidly I did feel suicidal, but have spoken to my brother about it and no longer do. It's a horrible feeling because you see everyone you love in your mind's eye, but the feeling of utter despair and hopelessness is overwhelming.
Yes I have got over it now. I feel a bit odd but am starting to pull myself together now. I must, because I'm playing at the pub at 6pm. I wonder where the aspergers will dump me tomorrow.