“Autistic? You? Are You Sure You’re Not Bi-Polar?”
I’ve been dealing with myself for my entire life. When I was a child, I had such confidence. I was confident that I was going to be a famous child star ( actress) and obviously, that never happened. But I’ve been dealing with my diagnosis of Autism for a while now, and there’s so much about me, that I am still trying to learn, even about myself. I know I’m a damn coward when it comes to other people. I sometimes lash out, and I don’t mean to and I would rather kill myself than hurt anyone. I’d hurt myself first, but why?
I guess that’s what we autistic people do- is hurt ourselves first? I don’t know? But that’s how I’ve always been. People say, “You need to stand up for yourself!” When I do, it ends up making things worse, so I just take it.
I say things sometimes I don’t mean, and I don’t realize it hurts people. I get upset by it, because I can’t process my own emotions. I try, but again, I’m stuck.
Being autistic is different for everyone, not everyone has the same symptoms. For me, I am a little different. I mask (my autism) constantly, so people don’t look at me weird, but it ends up, people think I’m autistic anyways. I need a service dog, and I need support. Not that my husband isn’t a great support, but he’s not autistic and sometimes I lash out when I’m upset and I can’t help it. I get upset over the weirdest things and sometimes they’re so small, that I wonder why the hell I’m upset in the first place.
I get so self conscious about myself. Just being in an room with others make me wonder if they even like or even want me around? I don’t understand how I got this way? I guess it was all those times that I was told that I was never wanted or even loved, that I felt the self-conscious take over. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror properly, because I’m afraid I’ll be upset at what I see. I see the girl who people have torn down and I let them do it, because I’m scared that if I tell them to “Fuck off,” they’ll turn it on me (which usually happens) and I’ll be the one who is the bad guy. It sucks. I wish that sometimes, I could tell people about what they’ve done to me, and that they would be torn like me, but that never happens, so I have to suffer in silence myself.
When I was younger, girls would see me as a target for their bullying. Saying that I would never be “touched” by anyone or “loved” by anyone. They would say I was better off dead than alive. I heard this so many times, that my mind believes it, and it’s true. It’s hard. I can’t imagine surviving this long, and yet, tried to end it all four times (twice when I was younger and two times as I got older). What people don’t seem to realize is that when you talk to an autistic person, we take what you say LITERALLY. So when you tell us that we are not wanted, or we’re not valued alive, we take that into consideration and you wonder why so many autistic people kill themselves, or at least attempt to, myself included.
I struggle with myself. I don’t want to be alive. I don’t want to live in a world where I can’t thrive. I try to. But I feel like they’re just tolerating me and I am the worst person in the world. That’s how I feel right now. It’s scary, but I can’t stop my mind from going there. The dead people have tried to save me the best they could and they did great, but I feel like instead of the Holocaust kids helping, now it’s the Old Hollywood movie star’s turn to help. Screaming doesn’t help, it hurts my throat, but I try to get it out.
Do I self harm? Yes, but not in the way that you think? My mind starts reeling all the bad things and my husband can’t imagine why I do that. Sometimes, with an autistic mind, we have a very difficult time letting things or even people, Go. For an example, I once knew an actress and she turned out to be kinda awful, but being autistic, from my understanding, we can “suffocate” or “overwhelm” people and sometimes that can really push people away. We don’t mean to do that, we just get excited over things or people. We get attached and sometimes, we get too attached and we don’t realize it. We become “Obsessed” (I guess that’s what I’ve been told) with something or someone. I didn’t realize this until I messed things up with people, including this actress, and that was my fault. I try not to be that way with people, but sometimes it comes out and I guess I should say sorry, before I mess anything else up.
Change, when things change, or when people change, it rattles me.
“They were once my friend?” So I thought, but then, things change. People, when they turn on you, sometimes it’s really for no reason, other than they are bored of you. I’ve had this happen so many times. I know I suck at keeping in touch, and I haven’t talked to some people in a while, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to end our friendship. When I broke up with my ex, who was autistic as well, he took the break up harder than I did, and it seemed like I had no remorse for it. I still feel bad about how things ended up for him. I have told him I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean to hurt him the way I did, but he said “You did though! You hurt me!” I didn’t mean to. I went home that day and I bled out so much that I had to bandage myself so I wouldn’t bleed out.
When an autistic person is fucked over, there is so much we wish we could do. We want to “get even.” We want to show the world how badly they hurt us, but what good does that do? I use to be that way, believe me. I wanted to get even with so many people who have fucked me over. But I soon realize it just makes things worse, and it doesn’t resolve anything. It’s best to just part ways and hope to God that they don’t hurt you anymore. Sometimes, with me, I just want people to know how badly they have fucked me over, and when I say my peace, I’m usually the one who is made out to be the bad person, it’s always that way. It sucks, but that’s how it is.
As an autistic woman, I’ve been diagnosed with so many other things. I had a “Friend” (she’s not my friend anymore- oh well, her loss!) tell me that she knew I had to be “Bi-Polar”. I’ve had doctors tell me I have a “mood disorder,” whatever the hell that means? I’m put on medication for it and I hate it. I actually forget to take it and I think caffeine also affects me too. If I drink too much, I get sad or I get angry. It’s like I’m drunk, but only with soda. I don’t drink alcohol for that very reason, I’ve seen the way it affects people and frankly, I don’t want to ruin my insides with that.
I don’t smoke or do weed, but I just sometimes tell my husband, “I need to start drinking” and he said “NO!” So I don’t.
To me, I’m just struggling to even breathe. I have been told by so many that it would be easier if I died. I’ve been saved so many times, because the “dead” folks don’t want to see me on “their side”. As Linda Darnell told me recently, “Stay away from people who make you think you’re difficult to love.” I try, but sometimes, I get so desperate for friends or people, I just take anyone. I let them use me, and I in turn feel weird. So much of my friendships are “one-sided” and I PAY for EVERYTHING. I do this, so I feel like I can have friends. My mom said “You can’t buy your friends” and yet, I do that, because paying for things, I feel that they will like me, which in turn, they only stick around because I buy them things or pay for their meals. I usually pick people up too, especially if they don’t have a car and I offer to pick them up from their jobs or their homes or just take them places. I don’t ask for gas money, because I’m not like that.
Let me give you a prime example. I used to have this friend and she isn’t anymore, and that’s her loss, I would pay her to literally hang out with me. My husband said that it was wrong and I said, “I had no one and I was going to be alone.” I hate being alone and come to find out, most autistic people do.I hate not having anyone to hang out with or not having my husband around. It sucks and I get start to thinking and then I think too much and then it gets bad. My thing is buying people presents for the holidays, their birthdays or just because. It’s fun for me, because I love sending people things. But a lot of them don’t know how to return the favor, but it’s ok and I know this . When I send packages to like my friends in Australia, they love them and they thank me for them. When I send fan mail packages to stars I adore (I.E. Darci Shaw), she did reply once to the birthday package that I sent her (I worried so heavily that she didn’t get it, because her agency didn’t tell me if she got it, which I had asked them very politely to let me know when it got to her, because ONLY GOD knows about the MAIL SYSTEM Overseas), but anyways, the recent package I sent, I have heard nothing and that’s ok! (She’s probably busy and haven’t had time to look at all the cool things I sent! I sent her a copy of some of my books I’ve published, two shirts and some really awesome sweets from the USA). It was an awesome package, but I know I’ll probably never know if she got it, but that’s ok? I’ll send one for Christmas and I’ll make sure they know to let me know if she got it. In my cards to her in the package, I kindly say to please let me know if this arrives to you, cause like I said only God knows if it got there?
But my husband says I need to start “treating myself.” Autistic people are people pleasers, and I’m no different. I want people to be happy when they see me or be happy when I’m around them. I want people to be happy. That’s all I want. When people aren’t, I do my best to make them feel better.
But what was it Ruth Maier said to me in May? She said:
“You’re different Katie. You want to keep others alive, but when it comes to you- that’s a whole different story. You won’t keep your own self alive, and that’s something you need to do.” I think it’s harder than it looks. I do keep others alive, and I can’t even keep myself alive. It’s horrible.
The value I have on my life is NONE. If I die, I die, simple as that. I know that scares people when I phrase it it like, but if I could feel like It’s harder to figure it out. It’s hard to imagine that you’d never do anything, or as people say “amount to anything.” I wish I could amount to something. I am a wife and a writer.
When I write about these things, about my autism, I try not to point at anyone, or direct at anyone, because sometimes when I do, they get their feelings hurt. But at the same time, I always think, “Well, what about my feelings?” As selfish as that may sound, it’s kinda true. I think too much of how others will feel, that I am never able to express myself the way I want to. I’ve been called “the victim,” when really I just want to tell people how I feel.
When I was being assessed for Autism, I had to sit with a woman who had a notepad. Of course, that made me very observant.
She asked me to talk about myself. I told I couldn’t.
“Why?” The woman asked. I told her that would be selfish of me. I don’t like talking about myself, because I couldn’t think of anything good to tell her. I told her that I was the one who was better off dead. She asked me if I had trouble with people.
“Yes, they take one look at me and know that I’m not wanted,” I said, looking down. I got my Autism diagnosis a week later. That was a very pivotal point in my life. I was somewhat relieved because it explained everything about me: the special interests, the feeling of being an outcast, the feeling of nothingness, just my brain being feeling like this.
As Linda Darnell told me, “The masking can only last for so long.” It really can. Any autistic person will tell you that. It can only last for song long, until you break.
I’ve broke. I’m at my breaking point.
