There are so many things I want to say here, stories to tell, memories from childhood that make so much more sense re-framed through the lens of my Asperger’s. Funny things, sad things, and just plain weird stuff.
Ideas come to me all the time, as I drive to work, or am laying in bed trying to sleep, or sometimes while doing mundane chores… I am either writing blog posts in my head or composing things I’d like to paint.
And I think “I’m going to go home and write this all down!” But then after eight or more hours of stressful work (which more often than not often followed a bad night’s sleep) and taking care of dinner for humans and pets, doing the things that need to be done around the house – usually in a state of stumbling exhaustion – and that’s it. I’m done. The bright shiny words and images that danced in my head have long since faded and so has the last of my energy. I sit in front of the TV like a zombie or scroll mindlessly on my phone for an hour or so and then I shamble off to bed.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I used to fill every waking moment with things I loved – hiking, writing, painting, working on projects and crafts. Now I hoard my energy to get through my work week; that’s what pays the bills so it gets what little I have to give.
Whatever is going on with my health is getting worse, but I am so done with doctors. I’ve gone round and round for a decade now and the only real breakthrough was my Asperger’s diagnosis, which I sought on my own. It feels like my world is just shrinking smaller and smaller as I am able to do less and less. I’m just so bloody tired.