I’m left feeling bereft after I boosted the post; Navigating Social Anxiety with Autism: People Pleasing and Surviving the Me Too Shitshow.
In hindsight, I should not have done it today – when I had a meeting with someone at work, I realised my filters, which work very well when I’m functioning within specified parameters, were failing. My guard was down and emotional responses that I usually manage to keep under lock and key were bleeding out, and the biggest indicator that something was wrong: I didn’t care.
But even though I noticed all of that at the time, I just filed it away as an interesting series of reaction events. It didn’t alarm me very much. Probably because the emotional slips were positive instead of negative. I smiled too much, responded to questions about holidays with details I normally wouldn’t.
That doesn’t sound too bad, but for someone who is under strict control of themselves in the work environment almost all of the time, it’s a big deal.
Before I shared that post I mentioned, I read it and it made me cry. Another reason why I shouldn’t have done that today.
I mask a lot, pretend I am okay when I’m not. And I’m guilty of it today. Some lovely people have reached out to check in with me through the Fediverse, and I’ve reacted like I’m just fine. So here’s this post now, I’m actually not fine. But, I will be.
This sadness, it walks my life with me. It’s always there, ready to let me slip into it. It has been as far back as I can remember. Most of the time, I am walking the shoreline, and I just don’t see it at all. And that’s okay. That means I am balancing and everything is stable. But sometimes I slip in and it’s hard to get out again, the water is deep and the bottom is tricksy.
When I was very small, the sadness was completely overwhelming. The tears were too big and the love was missing. I had no way to switch it off and no-one to help me find my way out. But that’s not something I like to talk about much. When I got my autistic diagnosis, I also got a diagnosis of trauma due to emotional neglect and abuse as a child. And I suppose that’s part of why this lake of sadness is always beside me.
At some point in my life, I learned how to completely switch off emotion, so I don’t get overwhelmed by the intensity of the despair I am capable of feeling. I feel so badly for the child I was.
My equilibrium for my day is shot to shit, and I can’t wait for my man to get home so he can wrap me in his arms and hold me.
That’s all I want.