The manic pixie problem child

I don’t really know where to start, and this somehow feels very…first world problems compared to the struggles of many here. 

I had a difficult childhood, with undiagnosed asd parents, who didn’t know how to emotionally support me, the accidental autistic child with adhd. I tried to run away multiple times as a child, as I believed the reason I felt unloved, unwanted and alien in my own family was because I was a faery changling child, and not my parents child at all. School…was hellish. I didn’t like anything the other kids did. I loved, faeries, caterpillars, insects, wild flowers, and animals in general, music was banned in our house, so I didn’t get the steps/Britney/spice girl stuff. My access to tv was very limited, which meant I had almost nothing in common with my peers. (Until Pokémon) 

My parents rarely played with me, and as they had no friends, and almost no contact with extended family (most were dead to be honest) I interacted very little with the outside world, which basically sealed my fate as socially incompetent, desperate to be loved, and of course looking in the wrong places. 

I was an angry, depressed and deeply lonely teen, undiagnosed myself, until quite recently. I had two failed relationships in my 20s where my partners were as emotionally unavailable as my parents. Which then lead to a promiscuously irresponsible point in my life that lead up to a …SA attack. 

Somehow, subsequent to that I met my far too lovely for me, emotionally available partner, who is also autistic, and who also bares many scars that we both struggle to overcome…I am a very difficult person to love now….but I digress. 

I was medicated for a decade for misdiagnosed problems, although the medication did help, (because it’s also used in the treatment of autistic folk) I have subsequently taken myself off them, but now, the trauma of the attack, the lack of mood stabilisers, and general lack of any kind of outside support or contact, has lead to uncontrollable and incredibly intense emotions I have just…never learned to deal with.

I haven’t been able to work, since leaving a job that left me a skeletal ruin with illegal hours and paid as little as £1.52 ph for the round the clock work up to 28 hour days. (I was a carer. Yes, the manager was fired after I quit. This is just one example of the awful working conditions I have endured as someone easily taken advantage of. Don’t pity me though, I basically did nothing for force them to pay me, or say no when I was asked to work every shift under the sun. I made my own rod, as I always have.)

With all this, I’m left with mostly myself and all the intense emotions these times have produced. Mainly anger. Blinding, monstrous anger. Directed at everything and everyone but mostly, mostly myself. My failings, my incompetence, my inability to surmount these things. I am horrible, and say evil things I would never mean in my right mind. I am angry and about being angry. Sometimes I’m angry because…I don’t just pee when I need to. Or because I over cook boiled eggs, or forget ingredients in meals I’m pretty sure my neighbours think I’m a lunatic, and they wouldn’t be the first of my neighbours to think that. I become a screeching, venomous harpy for the most stupid reasons, and sometimes suspect people of things I technically cannot prove either way. 

I don’t want to go back on meds, as they are life shortening, and damage my organs, so ideally I’d like to find ways to cope with the emotions. Especially tips on how to cry when I need to, as I basically block off that part of me, because of how messy and…wet it is, and the headaches it gives me, but also because I had a friend who used crying to get everything she wanted in life, and from then I basically developed a very unhealthy relationship with tears. 

I am deeply empathetic and can cry a literal river for someone else, but rarely allow myself to shed tears for myself, and that’s why the empath crying never makes ME feel better. (The whole put on a weepy movie and have a cry thing doesn’t work, unless I am releasing my own pain.)

I started journaling, recently, so I could stop dumping on the very few people I have left in my life, and pushing them away. I go to my favourite place, a woodland near by, when it’s not the temperature of the surface of the sun, and I don’t immediately get heat exhaustion. (I’m very sun and temperature sensitive.)  when I can’t do this, I notice things change. I try to write at home, but it is not as cathartic. I have also taken up Yoga, as I have terrible posture, and have been having problems. At the moment I’m very inflexible, and the sessions are gruelling pain, on top of the constant chronic pain I feel daily, but I’m trying to stick to it and hoping it’ll get easier and less painful in time. 

Over the last three years I developed an unhealthy relationship with drinking and smoking too, but I have subsequently totally quit. Even caffeine I have almost totally quit, as it was triggering anxiety attacks. 

I do also meditate, as best as my very noisy, anxious and fidgety brain will let me. So I try and do the basics to help myself. I have a number of health problems which cause me a lot of stress, some of which I am too scared to face. 

I think the biggest part of the problem, is how much I hate myself and feel like a monster. My parents, are now old and frail, my once menopausal rage-filled and terrifying mother who locked me in the garden to get away from me and smashed her head repeatedly on a baking tray in front of my friends because I wanted to spend time with them (which immediately ruined that friendship) is now a kindly little old lady, and I feel HORRIFIC when I sift through memories and the blame ends up on them. I was a needy, attention seeking and annoying child, and I came far far too late in my parents lives. Mum has her own far more horrific background to contend with, another reason I feel terrible when I blame them. I’m also awful with money, always have been. 

Even my brother never remembers how differently he was treated, ‘the golden child’ who mum absolutely doted on, and who would regularly do horrible things to me and either say I did them, or deny they ever happened. (Cutting my hair while I slept, throwing a large rock at my head while I was paddling in the sea so I fell in etc etc.)..again, I digress. 

How do others deal with the guilt of what their meltdowns bring out in them? Do others feel guilt about how self absorbed their constant over-thinking of every tiny detail is? How do others deal with emotional and irresponsible money spending, and the insurmountable debt that comes with it? 

I am sorry this is such a long read, with so much information dumped in one sitting. I am just utterly miserable, and empty and yet too full. 

The title is because in a movie I would be a throwaway manic pixie girl who’s only purpose is to progress the main character.