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Alive but unwell

mr.chip

I haven't posted on here for some time. About a month, at least, I think. 

I've been in a mental health hospital for over the past two weeks. I became too much for my aging parents to worry over and opted, after being given the choice, to hospitalise myself. So I'm voluntary, not sectioned, and can go out. I still consider myself to be suicidal but I am hoping that my hospital stay (as yet of unknown duration) and my sharing of my testimony on here can be of some benefit. If not, nevermind.

The psychiatrist seems quite sure that I have Asperger's Syndrome (Level 1 ASD) and the common comorbidities of depression and anxiety are hopefully being accounted for when it comes to working out my medication ('drug cocktail'). Access to occupational therapy here is useful and I am treated well by staff and even try to socialise with other patients on my ward and those I meet in therapy. Pathetic yet charming, I imagine it must seem.

I don't know where it's all leading. My dream of becoming a teacher crashed and burned as I have now officially been withdrawn from my training course. No wrongdoing on my part (beyond honesty that I need help) but I'm really not in a good place to appeal. The way I was hung out, left high and dry, broke me and is partly why I'm now in hospital, a broken man. I'm haunted by this rejection as much as my failure in being a husband, a father, a son and a brother. So I'm homeless, jobless, dreams and ambitions are over. And, for all I know, I could be discharged from here with no medication, awaiting the excruciatingly long autism diagnosis all the time. They'll likely try to get me into a council flat and make sure my benefits support me but it's small fry when I know I've just had enough of it all.

If this is autism, it has broken me as much as it has defined me. The rawness of defeat haunts me. My past haunts me. My present terrifies me. My future is laughable in its negligibility. 

A middle-aged, autistic man. Burnt out, rejected, lost. Suicide is logic to me, not just an emotional release. I can't stand it anymore. But I keep going. Alive but unwell.

Please note my experience of living with despair. Autistics are more likely than others to take their lives. The cold logic of not being sure that the massive overdose I was planning would be enough brought me here in the end. Now I get checked on every so often, with a regular 'privacy window' check that I haven't  somehow succeeded in strangling myself with my bare hands in this 'safe' environment.

And the sobering thought is that it does and can get much, much worse than this.

Is this really worth living? Apparently you have to reply in the affirmative, or else. 

A

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  • mr.chip said:
    Access to occupational therapy here is useful and I am treated well by staff and even try to socialise with other patients on my ward and those I meet in therapy. Pathetic yet charming, I imagine it must seem.

    Sounds to me that even at your lowest points you are thoughtful and considerate of others. No need to see that as pathetic - it's charming and humane. 

    I'm approaching middle age, am autistic, and frequently live with despair. The question 'is this really worth living' appears a lot with me; I don't always have an answer, but there is usually something of interest that I can engage with which I didn't know before. And that adds meaning to my life (and to others.) I hope you too give yourself the chance to witness these things. 

    mr.chip said:
    My future is laughable in its negligibility.

    That's how it looks like now, at this immediate moment, but you really do not know. Depression and anxiety - sharing my experience - can make things seem very bleak and small; this is your current perception, but this can greatly change. There are countless things that could appear in your future. (For me, when all I see is darkness, I try to find a book I haven't read or a topic I know nothing about) There will be a different logic that will become more visible with recovering. 

    Not sure how helpful this reply is, but I hope to see you here again.

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  • mr.chip said:
    Access to occupational therapy here is useful and I am treated well by staff and even try to socialise with other patients on my ward and those I meet in therapy. Pathetic yet charming, I imagine it must seem.

    Sounds to me that even at your lowest points you are thoughtful and considerate of others. No need to see that as pathetic - it's charming and humane. 

    I'm approaching middle age, am autistic, and frequently live with despair. The question 'is this really worth living' appears a lot with me; I don't always have an answer, but there is usually something of interest that I can engage with which I didn't know before. And that adds meaning to my life (and to others.) I hope you too give yourself the chance to witness these things. 

    mr.chip said:
    My future is laughable in its negligibility.

    That's how it looks like now, at this immediate moment, but you really do not know. Depression and anxiety - sharing my experience - can make things seem very bleak and small; this is your current perception, but this can greatly change. There are countless things that could appear in your future. (For me, when all I see is darkness, I try to find a book I haven't read or a topic I know nothing about) There will be a different logic that will become more visible with recovering. 

    Not sure how helpful this reply is, but I hope to see you here again.

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