Months of pent up thoughts

You know what, obviously everything hit the breaking point, so I think I’m just going to finally write out some of those things that have been eating away at me slowly over the past few months of trying to make this (non-romantic) relationship work.

Maybe you’ll read this; I’m not trying to keep it a secret, after all, but just know that it’s not for you. I’m not saying these things as insults, and I have no intention of trying to tear you down or make you feel any worse. I’m writing this for my own mental health, to formally acknowledge the damage that I’ve been suppressing for your sake, because I want to put it behind me and find my way back to the path toward recovery.


After all, I know I have the ability to get better, at least in a certain light. So, here goes….

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It’s an issue of privacy.

I didn’t do anything. I literally laid there with a god awful migraine wanting to die because of the pain in my head.

I barely even moved.

Sure, I acknowledge that you were uncomfortable. I noticed that much earlier on, but I didn’t see any reason to do anything because you had more than sufficient opportunity to simply leave. That’s what I do when I’m in that situation, without a word, just exit.

It’s not my fault you didn’t do this, it’s not like you need my permission.

I’m not responsible for the actions of anyone other than myself, and in this case, the relevant actions were not at all things I did. By extension, I’m also not responsible for the emotions of anyone else.

It’s not my fault that, despite the fact that the only things I’ve really said about myself are that I’m literally a drug addict that is incapable of handling emotions in any way that doesn’t involve the use of chemicals, you apparently both seem to have this inexplicable attraction to me.

So no, I am not apologising, because I have done nothing that needs to be apologised for.

The question of whether I care about anyone’s feelings at all is irrelevant as well. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that at no point was I ever obligated to fix your mental illness, to cater to your emotions exclusively and make everything okay. Your mental state is not my responsibility.

And things should have been left at that.

Instead, you had to tell everyone some story specifically about what did. You went behind my back to gossip to one of my good friends about me specifically. Do you know what it’s like to have a good friend come up and say “I heard the story of what happened last night” just out of the blue? Honestly, I’m just thankful that at least he has the decency and common sense to ask me what my side of the story was before actually judging anyone.

You know what I told my friends? A vague account of why “it was a weird night” and I didn’t get much sleep because “people were acting weird and I wasn’t sure how to react to them, plus I had a really bad headache”

Not who you were.

THAT is what I’m angry about. You don’t have to tell everyone the specifics about who exactly was involved in a situation in order to vent about it. You might not care about privacy, but it’s still something that’s really important to me.

That and the passive-agressive tweets everywhere. Honestly, broadcasting it to the world? If you have an issue with me, just fucking tell me.

If you need to get something off your chest, do it in a way that doesn’t come off as a clear attack on someone who did nothing wrong in the first place.

You’re being extremely irritating, immature, and honestly I feel a bit stabbed in the back, so forgive me for trying to be kind by not saying anything to you because I know anything I do have to say would be cold, condescending, and do absolutely nothing to make you feel better.

I don’t think very highly of you as a person at all right now, but I was trying to be mature about it and just keep things to myself instead of attacking you, gossiping about it, or broadcasting it on twitter.

So yeah. There you go.

I’m okay if things are awkward between us.

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officium exitus


The past few days, I’ve been a bit worried about a few things… I mean, I say I’m not, and that it’s just me, but… That’s only 50% of it. The problem is largely me and how I feel and what I want, but, is that a reason to continue saying it’s nothing?

Should I mention that I’m worried this agreement may have meant something a little bit different to me when I said yes than it did to you when you asked? An honest miscommunication, I think, because I still don’t really know what you truly thought I agreed to… And it’s not that I wouldn’t have agreed if I had interpreted it as something more than I thought it was, that isn’t necessarily it at all. It’s just that this possible miscommunication makes me uncomfortable, and I can’t really talk to you about this as much as you promise with all your heart to be there to listen and help me because… Well, as much as it’s me, the subject is still you, in a way.

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The Day After Tomorrow

I don’t know if any of you remember that movie, but I feel like it’s actually happening where I live right now. We’ve officially broken the record with all of the snow (the previous record was 1985, by the way) and literally nobody has been prepared….


The shelves at the grocery stores are practically empty, and I think everywhere is nearly (if not completely) sold out of bottled water.

The worst part, though, is that, while for most people this state of being holed up for the apocalypse is just beginning, I have not been able to leave my house for something like 2 weeks now due to my car being incapable of moving. I’ve already lost my mind days ago, now it’s been so long that the idea of having to leave the house for anything sends a wave of anxiety through me.

Oh yeah. And tomorrow is the first day of spring semester.


I really don’t want to go. I don’t want to go through the motions again, no more teaching algebra, no more doing whatever cheap thing I can think of to scrape by in classes that are way too difficult.

This mental breakdown is going nowhere fast… I don’t even know what to write I just feel stuck in this state of panic and I need to crawl into hiding and avoid life.

I thought writing might help distract me but it turns out I’m just too distracted by anxiety to sit down and write much of anything…

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I don’t know how to tell you that I’m not okay.

I don’t know how to tell you that I’ve stopped fully listening because I’m too busy being preoccupied with self-destruction.

Even if I could find the words, I don’t know if I  should tell you how much drugs are consuming my thoughts right now, how I’m starving myself for no logical reason just because I’m too upset to eat, or that I just feel physically sick from being trapped.

I don’t know what this is, who I am, or if it’s even my place to start complaining about fake problems that perhaps neither of us could fix… I don’t even know if it’s that I’m afraid of burdening you, I mean, I tell myself that’s the reason, but I don’t know if it’s really because I’m afraid that telling you any of this won’t help me recover from it.

I don’t know how much I should cling to this false hope of escaping any time soon, or if I should just cut straight to the part where I start drowning myself in more alcohol.


I do know that I’m not rational, that every waking moment feels like an eternity at this point. I know that I won’t be stuck here forever, but I also know that I don’t believe this to be true.

I know that I’m going downhill fast, but I’m not sure what awaits me at the bottom… I just think I will be finding out sooner than any of us would like.

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Sending Subliminal Messages via Wireless Jukebox

For being bad at communicating with people, I can be creative. 

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Being Lost


In high school, it’s probably okay to have no idea what you want to do. At 23 years old and in graduate school, though, there’s far too much pressure to figure out the answer to this question… I have no idea what I would want to focus on for my thesis, no idea what I would do with a master’s degree in mathematics if I do end up finishing it. I don’t really want to do the things you would generally get this degree for.

I don’t really want to do anything.

Maybe it doesn’t help that there’s so much snow this year that my car is physically incapable of making it out of the neighbourhood without getting stuck multiple times.

It definitely doesn’t help that I’ve been trying to take a lower dose of adderall during these days off – just going up from 20 to 30 mg makes me feel instantly better, like I’m actually awake. It gives me the motivation to work on my own projects, at least.


Ah, well at any rate, I hope everyone had a good holiday season (or at the very least, I hope you all survived it!)

I know I’ve been absent for a couple of months, but… I’ve been busy trying to survive my stupid decision to go to graduate school because I needed the stipend and couldn’t find a real job….

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As you transition from this life to the next, I hope the love of those around you will bring peace.

It was announced today that a fellow student and cosplayer was found dead after being missing for around a month…

I never was fortunate enough to have gotten to know them personally, but the knowledge that, in this life, I never will is surreal.

It makes me wonder about the people I’ll never have the chance to meet. It makes me look at my own mortality, visiting the reaper, asking how I would want to be viewed as a person when the time comes. How devastating it would be if reports of my death used the wrong name and/or pronouns to refer to me, how inaccurate the statements given by others may be. How powerless I am to change the way they talk about me.

I get panic attacks at the thought of leaving my cats, wondering what might happen to them. My heart bursts and my breathing become shallow and desperate as I think about possible scenarios here….
But this isn’t all about me. I’m so sad for this individual’s family and close friends. I want to offer condolences but can’t find the words.

Simon/Sierra, I wish you the best as you move on to a new life. I hope your spirit can find peace one your journey.

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You know that feeling when one single negative remark just instantly renders 10 positive remarks as completely invalid? I mean, I think everyone gets that to some degree. I just, well, overreact to the same situation. Not only is my entire day (and ability to focus) shattered, I just get really angry and there’s this mix of thinking about getting revenge and thinking about just totally withdrawing from the relevant social context.

Today, it revolved around selling my costumes online – something which on the one hand has made my dismal financial situation much more manageable, and on the other hand is borderline ruining Halloween for me. I mean, I’d expect to sell maybe 20 masks? I’ve probably sold upwards of 50-60. It’s been so bad that my asking price has doubled over the last month as I’ve been trying to lower the demand… But all it seemed to do is double my profit (which I’m definitely not complaining about, but at a certain point this workload has ruined me…)

Anyway. The bit of feedback I’ve gotten has been amazing, all 5 stars, customers overjoyed at what I made them, which was pretty cool. Until today, I got the first complaint, and of course dissatisfied customers tend not to be the most, er, polite, civil, what have you. So I get this confrontational “wtf?!?!” message and my chest tightens – goodbye hope of getting homework done this afternoon, hello increased anxiety and feelings of being a total failure.


This one guy and his one complaint have me thinking seriously about completely closing down my account and no longer running the shop at all… Totally rational, right?

I mean, I probably won’t, at least not until I get 3 or 4 of these anxiety-inducing messages, but I don’t know…

I mean if you can’t take a complaint here and there you’re supposedly “not going to be able to function” in society but that just makes me feel WORSE about literally everything. It certainly isn’t a thought that motivates me to work on myself or whatever; maybe it motivates me to stop existing, but that’s it.

So yeah, I don’t know, I guess I’m aware that I’m way too sensitive for my own good and it causes me to think really irrantionally, but I’m not really seeing a way to fix it and I definitely lack the motivation to actively look for one.

I dunno. Maybe it’s an “asperger’s thing” but even if it is, the thing about having autism as an adult is that you don’t really catch any breaks or get any special consideration for it – you’re still subjected to and expected to deal with things exactly the same as any typical adult, so what does a label (or even explanation) really matter?

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Fears, manifested.

Maybe this isn’t a big deal for most people. It probably isn’t. I don’t know.

It’s just bothering me. But it’s just an e-mail; it’s not even that hard to pretend you just never saw it.


It probably goes without saying, but I find myself confronted with too much tedious work that I don’t quite understand, but also have limited to no interest in figuring out, and I’m struggling to figure out which methods of managing this feeling leftover from my undergraduate days are still acceptable… Right now, the focus is on the question of withdrawing from a course.

I neglected to show up for said class this week, which, funny enough, is a behaviour that actually took me a long time to really become okay with… And I’m still very paranoid about being judged by classmates and teachers for skipping class, it’s just, at a certain point I figured out they almost never say anything, and the awkwardness is probably only on my end and it’s not all that much worse than the awkwardness/anxiety that merely existing tends to cause.

Until today, of course, when the professor, who I’ve never directly spoken to in person (as I don’t really think silently sitting and counting down the minutes until class ends while not fully paying attention to the lecture counts) sends an e-mail asking if I’m okay.

Am I okay? No, not really. Should I respond to this, though? Obviously I’m not going to say that. It’s too weird to say that I’m thinking of dropping the class. It feels too weird to say anything. I can’t think of anything to say. It makes more sense to avoid him all together.


I really can’t be honest and say that I don’t think I’ve been learning a single thing in the lecture anyway, because he gets so confused over insanely simple math proofs that I forget what the original topic or relevance of any of the information even was in the first place. But I mostly understand the math; I feel like I understand it less after watching an engineering professor stumble over things and spend 30 minutes on three lines that I understood just fine after reading them and taking 30 seconds to think about what I just read. I just don’t really know what’s going on with the other stuff, the things that he glosses over and only spends 10 of the 75 minutes in lecture even talking about.

But it’s not even that I don’t understand that stuff at all, because conceptually it makes sense, it’s just that our assignments are “program this,” “program that,” and, as ironic as this may be with my clever choice of image up there, I just can’t program. I mean, I have the ability to an extent, I taught myself how to modify existing code I find online, mostly out of necessity to survive as a math major, but anything I write myself has bugs here and there and honestly by the time I formally took a class in programming, I’d already become way too set in a lot of really terrible habits that I just didn’t know were terrible.

Anyway, I’d die happy if I never had to program anything ever again, but that’s getting off on a tangent.

Distracting myself. I find anything to distract myself. To avoid having to interact with people when I don’t want to, when the thought fills me with this dreaded feeling like the world is going to end. Definitely to avoid any questions about myself…


Anyway, this e-mail thing isn’t going to stop bothering me any time soon… The funny thing is that I am now ten times less okay than I was before I read the e-mail asking if I’m okay.

I’m never okay, though, because I think being “okay” would require me to be more “normal” than I’m capable of.

I really don’t want to be around people right now and even the thought of showing up to class in the morning is filling me with this overwhelming sense of dread. I mean, I teach a class, so I can’t just avoid it, but it’s actually not my class that I’m wanting to avoid. It’s that someone just decided they wanted to book a tutoring session and did it without saying anything to me first, and I just really really really don’t want to bother tutoring calculus for two hours tomorrow. But I just don’t know how to cancel it. It might not sound like a big deal but for me just thinking about how to get out of this tutoring appointment is unbearable. I can’t do it. I think I’m just too overwhelmed? Over what’s basically nothing?

I don’t know, but I should probably stop writing on tangents and actually shower and get to bed so I can try and fail at sleeping… /:

Posted in Autism/HFA, Depression/Anxiety, Dissociation, Mental Health, Random Thoughts, School | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment