“I Don’t Know?”
September is Suicide Prevention Month and sadly, I have tried too many times to unalive myself. My latest attempt was this July.
It’s hard to explain but when I was 12, my life came into question. No child’s life should ever be in question, but sadly I was.
It’s kinda hard to explain, when the people that you loved are now dead and gone, but I think the most hardest thing is that when people don’t like for you really no reason at all, other than the fact, that your’e kind, and you’re autistic and sometimes you don’t know the weight of the words you say.
Depression is such a horrible thing to live with and most people have support, unless you’re me.
I guess when I try to express myself, I’m always backlashed and I guess that’s fine.
I’m used to it.
Autism is seen as a disease, or as something that needs to be “cured.”
I am a human. I am a woman, a Jew, a wife, a sister, a daughter and hopefully a friend.
I am a kind person, who apparently, is too kind. I am usually taken advantage of, and people block me left and right, with little to no explaination, like what have I done to deserve this? Kindness- is thrown back at my face.
The kind things that I do, usually unappreciated or unnoticed. There are things that do make me happy and I get of course, shat on for them .
The thing that makes me happy is trying to just be there, but when I need help, very few people actually help me.
It’s hard to explain.
But, being autistic, everything is hard.
Recently, I became jobless, and I guess I knew it was coming (my job broke the law), and I knew that my lung disorder was becoming more difficult and now, I just feel like I can’t even make others happy.
“It’ll be easier without you,” I keep hearing, and I start to believe it.
I want to die, but I know the dead people won’t let me die. They won’t.
Have I attempted to die? Yes, several times, nearly succeeded twice.
The first time I nearly succeeded, was in November of 2022, and I was saved by three women that I loved: Bonita Granville, Deanna Durbin and my friend, Gloria Jean.
They hugged me and they told me that the people who were responsible for making me want to take my life, aren’t worth it.
The second time I nearly succeeded was in July. July 8, 2024. I took a bunch of pills and I died on the couch, while I evaporated to another place. I was rescued by Bonita Granville. I had never seen a woman dive bomb so quickly to get me. She was so upset and she didn’t want me there. She said, “You’re going to find what you had, trust me.”
I am always feeling like I am nothing. I don’t feel like I’m alive.
I want to be someone, in someone’s life. Yes, I am married and that’s great, but my husband works so I don’t see him half of the time. I have a service dog that keeps me company but sometimes, I just long for people to call my phone, or just to text me, and ask me to hang out.
Someone once asked me, “Kate, what would make you happy?”
This is my answer and I know, you’ll say, “It’s stupid,” but this is what would make me happy:
BE FUCKING INCLUDED
BE ABLE TO DO WHAT OTHERS DO
WORK A FULL TIME JOB
BE ABLE TO MAKE IT BIG IN SOMETHING (WHETHER THAT WOULD BE WRITING OR FILM?)
HAVE FRIENDS WHO ACTUALLY WANT ME AROUND (AND MAYBE MAKE SOME “FAMOUS” FRIENDS WOULD BE NICE)
BE FUCKING INVITED TO THINGS
BE FUCKING INCLUDED
That’s what would make me happy.
I know that’s odd to some people, because they’re not autistic, and they’re not lonely.
Loneliness in autism is a real thing and it’s so hard to handle.
I wish that more people would talk to us about having unaliving thoughts, cause I do, more than people care to know about. I just want someone to just understand me, and what I do is to make you happy.
Whenever I do something, I think of others, very rarely do I ever think of myself. I just want people to be happy and taken care of.
“What about you Kate?” Well, I want to be, and my husband does take care of me, but when I am having a really bad night or something, I want someone to be there for me, like I am there for them. I wish I could experience that.
My late grandpa used to say, there is no one ever “too booked, too busy or too blessed” not to call. I would agree with this sentiment. I am always trying to make sure everyone is ok and taken care of and yet, my lungs are burning.
I know I that I am trying to be positive, but sometimes it’s hard.