I’m no photographer. I took these yesterday when kids had relegated me to my bedroom.
I can’t describe the mood or feeling. It’s tired, there’s unhappiness and there’s other things in there.
A hard week taking its toll, maybe more than I anticipated after the Friday/Monday holiday.
Maybe an expected letdown by someone, maybe some realisation that things aren’t straightforward and neither are people.
I don’t do specifics well, I think I was ‘up’ for a few weeks, functioning well and focussed and okay, I had a drop and have had another slide in mood.
I’ve kept my faith in myself. I’ve been out to a gig even. But I’ve trucked along myself pretty much.
Work, TV, Sleep. Not too high, not too low. Acceptable even and possibly even something that I could think of building upon.
Then on Friday, I plummeted. Mood crashed. Frustration and the little nibbles of things over five,six weeks or more. Nothing specific, nothing earth shattering, nothing huge, no big meltdown.
Saturday was got through and today was the big crash. Nothing I’d done, but consequence of others.
The wire snaps.
I don’t know. I can’t frame a positive period recently to say that things were fine or as I wanted for a number of years.
I struggle to put together the description and phrases for that concept.
I think when depression and anxiety bite over a long time, there’s a loss of normality and a loss of knowledge of what okay or good is.
My upswing for a few weeks might have got me through stuff that I otherwise might have struggled or felt ground down with. It may have helped me realise possibilities in some areas and given a bit of hope.
Having a bump, slide, worse bump and then a calamity in the past few weeks, I’m not back where I was, but lower and full of doubt and berating myself.
I suppose the question might be as to what is ‘normal’ or ‘okay’ anyway and where that ‘normal’ ranks with me and with someone else.
How do I draw the levels on a chart, how my high to a normal high, where is okay and where am I most of the time?
Maybe that’s not something I can draw for myself in any case.
I know I have health, physical health and mental health. I have a lifelong neurodevelopmental condition. I have a MH record with depression and anxiety before that condition came along.
I can sigh, moan and complain, but I usually don’t. I can turn on myself but I know not everything is my making or of my creation.
My years of masking my condition and compensating mean that I know weaknesses and somehow I see that in others and can understand it.
I maybe don’t and never will have the foresight and wisdom to see it in myself and pertaining to my own life.
It’s at that point I try and bring together what I’m saying and I know much of my situation and life is my Aspergers and Autism.
It places me with a weaker starting positions with people and social structures, be that school, college, work.
I muddle by, I compensate for lack of friends and I compensate for lack of family help. I get past some social issues by maybe not understanding them, I get bogged down in others by trying to.
That gets me to my base level of ‘normal’, I think that’s above where I am today and where I’ve been these last 4 or 5 years.
I slid after diagnosis and the ‘video replays in my head’, I recovered, I slid with separation, I toiled with being alone, but I got a pattern of a week and got somewhere.
I mourned for my career and the hopes and aspirations with it, but I found a freedom from the excesses of the rat race.
I struggled with ‘disabled’ and ‘different’ and the concepts around neurodiversity. I sometimes still do.
The process of PIP and the failure there placed me as with a condition but not ‘disabled’, the struggle with aftercare and ‘help’ left me confused too.
I can be autistic but not ‘disabled autistic’ like others. I can’t even get a disabled rail discount card or a cinema ticket thing without the PIP threshold of disabled.
I backed off from my local disabled community and felt isolated at work too as after all, I wasn’t like my colleagues and I wasn’t like the ‘disabled autistic’ people either.
I was broken, alone and myself.
That was where I had slipped to.
As I wrote before, I tried and failed at online dating, I sort of realise that I’m unlikely to have that type of relationship with someone ever again.
So, I guess that’s where I was and how far below ‘me normal’ did I drop?
How far below ‘me depressed’ did I go?
How far is that from ‘normal human normal’ or ‘normal human depressed’?
Should I even care or give a shit? Well, I could obsess over that or as usual, just get on with things. It’s not great, not where I hoped I’d be, but it’s a life.
As for the photographs, yeah that’s a worn face and I need to drink more water.