A matter of perspective

I know that in the past I have appeared to be a bit weak. I can understand how people arrived at that conclusion, for I was unsuccessful, cried very easily and completely lacking in confidence.
Well I've had several long, hard looks in the mirror since I was diagnosed. This is what I saw:

1) I did not do well in the world because of my neurological and sensory issues.,

2) The embarrassing spells of crying were actually autistic 'meltdowns' (I fucking hate that word. It's become such a cliché), where my head became so overwhelmed with thoughts that I couldn't cope with it.

3) Thinking I was mad, I have spent my whole life trying to hide those things that people might recognise as mad. I didn't want anyone to know. Also I didn't want to worry anyone I was close to. I was always myself, but could never be myself. No wonder I lacked confidence.

Do you know something? The more I think about it, I think I must have been very strong to have led such a horrible life with all the autistic stuff going on in my head. I really don't know how I managed.

In the meanwhile

I collected the keyboard and then set to work. After moving everything I could from my bedroom into the spare room, I hoovered and shampooed my bedroom carpet. I couldn't believe how much muck was sucked up by the machine.
Then on to the counseling session and it was a productive one. I told her about the man I see about work, about my horrific experience last weekend and about the one just gone, which was lovely. I told her about my recurrent dreams (travel, missing connections, menace etc) and told her I thought it symbolized autism driving me, and to places I don't want to be. The lady told me she too believes I am autistic, so I felt comfortable about discussing issues around that (eg being affected physically by sounds). I also discussed a little diary of thoughts that I'd recorded last Thursday week.
At last I am getting the support I've always needed. My nephew asked me last Saturday how I'd managed to cope all these years. I gave a bland answer, but in truth I don't feel I really did cope at all. I just used to hide what I felt, which isn't the same thing. I think that this time I am going to come through feeling very strong and able to manage life a bit better. I want my life to be my own.

Thinking

I still keep thinking about last night. I like the company I am thrown together with. It's all very friendly but comfortably so. I like being with people to whom I am not an oddity. I am taken seriously. The nice thing is that I don't have to worry about ulterior motives. I like a laugh and a joke, but I also like a little bit of intelligence now and then. And most of all I like it that I don't have to be on my guard. Ideal. Lovely. Wish I'd done it sooner.

A melodrama

My treatment for the depression stuff begins next week. In a way I'm not looking forward to it. I hate talking about how I feel, and know it's going to be very difficult. What if I don't feel like talking at all? Then it'll be an hour of twiddling my thumbs in excruciating silence. In another way I am looking forward to getting things started, in the hope that this time they will finally be able to help me.

The melodrama

I've heard from one lot of people. I'm no longer on that waiting list and my treatment will start in a fortnight. Meanwhile I've heard nothing further from the autism diagnosis people. I, therefore, remain on their waiting list. Yawn. I hope I hear from them before I get too old and frail to attend the appointment.

The melodrama

I am being diagnosed up to the eyeballs lately. Yesterday I had another letter by email, which was a copy of the one from the mental health people to my doctor. It represented exactly what I do feel. While I felt pleased that the woman had really understood me, at the same time I was taken aback to see it all on paper. I know she both listened to me and heard me because she will maintain contact by email, which is what I am most comfortable with. Gone are the days of 'Oh you are miserable. Take a tablet', and good riddance to them too.

Earlier

Between workhouse visits nos. 2 & 3, I went along to the mental health people for my assessment. The woman who saw me this time was very good, and understood the connection between my various issues; ASD, depression and seizures. I was so pleased that I wasn't being treated as a case of depression. Depression is a cunt, but that's not the half of it.
The session itself was quite grueling. I really don't like talking about how I feel. I had quite a headache from the earlier phone calls, and did my best to maintain some level of eye contact with the woman. She thinks that psychological therapy would be beneficial to me, and has put me on the waiting list. She said that in future she will refer me to agencies who specialise in my needs. She clarified that the therapy she offers is different to psychotherapy, which I am strongly averse to.

Moods

Quite odd really. I was thinking about my moods earlier, and concluded they are the inevitable result of a brain, whose thoughts are constant, manifold and completely out of control. That's all there is to it.

Moods

Yesterday it took me a long time to get to sleep, as it had done the night before. The constant barrage of thoughts combined with my low mood combined to keep me awake. My sleep too was unsettled. I woke up several times with the vaguest memories, but strongest sensations, of strange dreams. I got up very tired at six this morning.

The black dog

I was in a right state when I got up this morning. And I don't mean Iowa. I had an appointment with the workhouse and felt that I simply couldn't face them. I felt as if my brain had short-circuited. I did the first thing that came to mind and went and talked to the person I see at the other place. I'm glad I did. Those people are much kinder than at the workhouse, and have supported me in ways both useful and appropriate. I've really got to deal with this now, so soon I'm going to make an appointment with the doctors. The man I saw this morning has asked me to see him again on Wednesday morning, just to make sure I'm ok.

The weekend

It was a funny weekend. My moods have been appalling, and I've come to the realization that I'm in the midst of a deep depression. It's the same barrage of thoughts playing ferociously on my mind. I didn't watch or read anything at all on Saturday evening. I just sat watching the plants on the balcony and thinking, before going to bed at ten.

Another autism thing

I went round to see the locked-in teenager earlier on, but didn't get to see him. We wasn't in the right frame of mind to see anyone so stayed in his room.
I think I know how he felt. Rather I remember how I felt sometimes when I wouldn't see people, and would stay in my bedroom until they had left. Some people I just didn't like so would avoid them. Others I did like, only I just didn't feel up to being sociable. It's so easy to feel you're you're being crowded out, when all you want is to be quiet.
When I was in a relationship (for want of a better word), I used to deal with this by cooking and cooking and cooking, thereby ensuring that I was always too busy to entertain. I used to turn out endless cakes, puddings, desserts, bread, pastries, pies, as well as what we were having for dinner. And then there was all the consequent washing and drying up.  I'm sure that other people must have thought it quite ridiculous, but that's how I survived.
I do hope the kid is feeling a bit better when I turn up next week.

The interview

Let me tell you about the interview that wasn't an interview (re the post of receptionist at a Chiropractitioner's). It was a group session for all sorts of vacancies, and took place as follows.

1) We filled in a questionnaire to ascertain our performance type in the workplace.
2) The practitioner talked about the business.
3) We each got up and talked about ourselves in front of the group.
4) We completed a 'quick-thinking' test sheet.

This is what happened in part two. First of all the man described the company and its other branches. Then he went on about being dynamic and wanting to change people's lives. Yes I am dynamic but not the outward manifestation he described. He then said that university degrees weren't a guarantee of anything, and that in this country one can get a first class degree with marks of 80%. He then talked at length about the Central Nervous System. I'm not sure how relevant this information is to a receptionist or an accountant. He described how all diseases can be attributed to disorders of the nervous system. At one point he said that he went to something and there were loads of autistic people (he sniggered), autism aspergers and all that ( he beamed). It's crazy, he said. He said that autism was caused by birth trauma. Then he talked about depression, and how doctors prescribed antidepressants to make people average. He said it was a nervous system disorder. I don't remember what else he said. His words were going round and round in my head, and I didn't hear anything else he said.
My points are as follows:

1) I don't particularly want to change people's lives. That's why I'm applying for a receptionist job, rather than one as a bishop or a member of parliament.
2) My results from university were 90-95%, and my results were apparently verified by an Oxford Don.
3) I have never before heard his particular theory on autism.
4) I have never heard his theory on why doctors prescribe antidepressants.

I'm not going to go into my feelings, except to say that I'm quite annoyed by what this gentleman said. I couldn't possibly work with someone who is so offensive. I have also asked MIND and the local autism charity if they are aware of this doctor's theories.