Indigestion

Having only just set my blog up, I'm not posting some previous writings - this from 3rd November 2022

I’m sure you know what indigestion feels like. That feeling in your torso of constant burning, always just… there. You try and adjust position to ease it, whilst waiting for the indigestion remedy to kick in, and bring the amazing sense of relief as air is released from inside and acids are neutralised.

Well, that’s what these past couple of weeks have been like, except it’s not acid stubbornly sat in my chest, but real angst, and it’s a much bigger suffering that no chalky tablet can get rid of.

I’m in one of the worst depressive episodes I’ve had for years. Whether I’m sat working, reclined watching TV, or lying down, there’s an emotional ache just really present, in my chest, my stomach, I even sense it round my neck. It has waves and ripples that wash over, some stronger than others, so that I might for a second think I’m feeling OK but then swoosh, despair.

I’m trying to ride it out and really just hoping that my being somehow finds calm again.

The trouble is, there are real reasons for the way I’m feeling, and they are things I’ve carried for years. Maybe now they are just getting too heavy for me?

You see all my life I’ve known some kind of angst, anxiety, uncertainty. It has been the foundation of my being, the core, and any moments of joy or happiness we’re always just sat on top of that.

At school I was quiet, awkward, intimidated. I didn’t do well at friendships, and those people I did hang out with in school, I was glad to not see them outside of it. I preferred my own company, my fantasy world. I was lucky not to have been badly bullied. I think I was saved by their being bigger targets. I couldn’t picture adulthood; I could only live in the there and then. The future was an inconceivable blank.

Anxiety. Uncertainty. Isolation.

But I grew up because that’s inevitable with time. And the first real panic of ‘what do I do’ came at the time between GCSEs and A Levels. I didn’t know where I was going to go to do these, nor really which subjects to pick. It was a panic of not wanting to stay on at the school, but not having the mental independence to start a whole new college. The result was to collapse back into staying on in the school, for the one term until the family moved to Devon.

So then, I had no choice but to start with a new college, a term in, and enter into a close-knit world of everyone having grown up together. There was just no way I was going to fit in. And I didn’t. I was lost, anxious, alone. In thinking what I could do to find people to mix with to get me through the day I turned to the Christian Union. Brought up in faith, I thought it would be a thing I could find common ground with, and so found the courage to go along. It was a bit of a shock to me. I found a group of people who had such deep spirituality and a real connection to their God that I felt completely outside if it. And it must have shown, cos not only did I doubt, they too doubted me, with someone directly eventually asking me one day ‘are you actually a Christian?’. It cut me, and still now I wonder if I am. Afterall, I don’t think I’ve ever been comfortable amongst congregations – I don’t have what they do. Though maybe the reason for this is what I discovered later on.

Anxiety. Uncertainty. Isolation.

But before I move on, a shout out to one guy, whose warmth and kindness at this time was a lifeline. An acceptance of me then, and unceasing even to now. MJS, if you read this, you know who you are.

Starting a term late at the college, missing a lot of foundation work, by exams were dismal, fortunately pulled up by my coursework. So, I scrapped through with Cs, not that I had any idea what to do next.

And once again we dive into uncertainty, being lost, clueless, anxious, unable to picture the future. And the world of adulthood commences with unemployment and jobseeker’s allowance. And not the ability to look for work with an idea of what I’d like to do, or what I could start with and progress with, or train with. No no. But instead looking at what would hurt the least, what would be the least scary. I languished, I’m sure to the annoyance of my parents who would have seen someone with no direction or drive. At odds with life. Eventually, I was sent on training, and found work through it, in the world of retail. That’s just where I ended up. I suppose no other sector was obvious.

Anxiety. Uncertainty. Isolation.

There I am then, in the world of work, and now it’s time for the next big monster to emerge. I say ‘the next’ because there already was one here, but it is still hidden and so far, it is only a presence felt, not yet named.

No, this next monster was the spectre of sexuality, and me being something I’d always been led to believe was wrong and vile. So, all these feelings, but I deny them. I split my being into two so as to suppress one.

I try to ‘be normal’ but it doesn’t work. I continue to find people intimidating, alien. But now it is more obvious the differences between them and me. I’m working with people my age, and they are living their lives, going out, socialising, having relationships. And I try to join in but I hate it. I didn’t enjoy the clubs, the bars, I wasn’t comfortable in the crowded places, nor in my own skin. And it hurt. Every conversation overheard about what they were doing, plans, weekends, life, all were assaults on my self-worth. In retail you watch the world, you see all the people, the couples, the groups of friends, the guys that stir the denied feeling. Everything was an accusation of failure in me.

Me, the unliveable, lost in myself, out of place in the world.

Anxiety. Uncertainty. Isolation.

Momentum. Sometimes you just can’t stop it. Emotions get to much, you break down. And so I came out. And it was horrid. The shame and awkwardness felt worse than the suppression and lie. So I went back in again. As you do. Until I came back out again because I knew the truth. And I was so fucking stupid to think at that time that if I was honest and came out, I’d then go on to meet someone. Ha ha fucking ha ha.

Nope. You know what I had? I’m sure you can guess by now.

Anxiety. Uncertainty. Isolation.

And I’m not just repeating that, these are building, growing, you have to add every instance together, and I’ll spend my evenings sat in the dark listening to the same few songs over and over as I go off into a fantasy world in my head.

I then ask myself a question - ‘what is wrong with me?’, because I know SOMETHING isn’t clicking quite right, isn’t functioning normally. Why do I find it so hard to live my life? To go places? To see or want something and make the necessary plans and take the necessary actions to make it real? Why can’t I connect the dots? Why don’t I understand people? And the loud busy places?

Why was I so quiet and awkward at school, at college. Why was I so at odds and put off by the deep spirituality of the churchy people? Why was I always so anxious, uncertain, isolated, living in my head?

So it was I named the monster that had been there first. Autism. But not like the sort of autism that comes with the super-powers you know? The magic computer brain, the science, the maths. No. All the fuck-ups, no gift.

Still, the monster has a name and it kinda helps because at least I know there’s a real reason for it all.

But this is the thing, knowing what I am and what I have doesn’t make a difference to me unlocking my life and future.

My future.

And so, from then, to now.

I’m 42, I’m over half-way through my life, and have gotten nowhere. Oh, by the way it’s time for me to ctrl + V

Anxiety. Uncertainty. Isolation.

Yup, because it’s still there, snowballed, as big as ever. But I’m not just looking ahead into darkness now, I’m also looking behind at the waste of time it’s all been so far. I’m at the stage now where the fears of the future I did have back then are now manifesting in reality.

You see, in the earlier part of life I did hold this little hope that if I just carried on, things would work out, make sense. But as time goes by, I realised that was such a foolish hope.

I’m as far from finding a partner as ever. All the guys who have gotten to know me, the more they know, the more put off they are. And it takes me so much effort to gather up my nerves and push to meet up with someone. And if we do click, my mind goes into overdrive as it tries to picture how it would work out, and how I would amend my routines to have time to get to know someone and hang out with them and it can cause so much stress that I want to run away, and close down, and it looks to the other person that I’m not interested and I’m chaotic and a time-waster. But I can’t deal with the turmoil that liking someone causes me. I can imagine ahead a point where I’m living with someone, married. But there is no connection from that dream to my reality now, and the path to get there.

Therefore, the flame flickers out as I realise it’s increasingly unlikely I’ll find someone to share life with, have companionship with, share the cost of existing with.

And that’s the other thing – how the hell am I supposed to exist. On my wages, I could only get a mortgage of £115,000, at my age, it wouldn’t be a long term. One calculator I saw meant I’d have to pay £900+ pm, never mind the other bills and food and stuff. And what home can you get for just over £100,000? None. To afford a home, I’d need to be earning way above my ability. I’m surrounded by people who want to climb the ladders, and enjoy success, but for me the stress and responsibility of anything higher is too much. This is why I don’t have a ‘career’ or have ever seen anything I’ve wanted to do with my life. I’m completely at a loss about existing.

My current job has been good to me so far, and I’ve had the kindness needed from my managers. But I’m always worried that things can change, that new demands may come, that leniency may go. I know to never take anything for granted (other than pain). I work always with apprehension. And added to that is the dread over our returning to the office, with long days in there and the fact I will need to snap my routines in half to accommodate this and it’s going to wear me out further.

I live with my parents, and feel like a failure of an adult that I still do. How many dating profiles do you see that start ‘own home’ or ‘sane and sorted’. The fact is I’m not where a 42 yr. old adult ought to be in life. And you can tell me there are no rules about it all, fine.

BUT

At some point my parents will move on from this shitty world. And I won’t be able to live here anymore. Where do I go? My only option, financially is to rent a room in someone else’s house. What a life. No security, no space, no freedom. Literally a place to sleep between going to work. I cannot bear thinking about it. I will have ceased to have a ‘home’.

Not only that, but my parents are my company, my main, secure, companionship of a kind. I’m more stable knowing they are around. I get really anxious and on edge when they are away for longer periods (i.e., when they had holidays pre-pandemic). There a reassurance, and anchor I don’t know I can replace? I see them age though, and it terrifies me. And when they pass away, I’ll have to face that alone. All alone. No one to comfort me, support me. Nope. I’ll just have to pack up my stuff, find a room elsewhere. I’ll be like a parasite that lost it’s host I guess, and wherever I end up I’ll be left to just wither.

It’s no longer some distant thing that may not happen like so. I realise now how much closer to this reality I am and that there is no other way this is going to play out. 

It's important to say I do have a few good friends, who seem to understand I can be complicated, who can take me as I am, and whose kindness and love I do appreciate. Both near, and many leagues away. But I still feel so alone in what I’m facing and, with what I’m dealing with now and will have to deal with in the nearing future. I’m not sure that anyone can help me. So, I can go hang out with someone, but they won’t hear the dual conversation in my head, that it a part of my autism, but that is also doom processing.

I’m not being dramatic when I judge I have little future, no hope, nothing much to live for. It’s a fact. Think about the things people do live for and look forward to. Make a list. None of those things are applicable to me, because either my mental disability or my financial status discount it all. Even the tiniest little thing fires off hundreds of questions in my head, making doing anything new a complete obstacle course.

So here it is. The reason why my current depressive, anxious state is so big, so prolonged. It’s because I cannot put this stuff off much longer. The dark reality is starting to dawn and time is nearly up. There was no light, no saviour. This really feels like end game, and all the lessons of my life are telling me I lost.

Despite my alien feelings around faith and God and Christianity, I have prayed so hard, so earnestly, through all my life. With thanks, through tears, with anger, with remorse. Pleaded, begged. For sense, for answers, for to meet someone right and compatible for me to be with. For a place to live, safe and secure, feel at home, that doesn’t depend on my folks etc. For purpose to life, even to find a work path that I can call a career and excel with.

Silence. That’s all I had. Anxiety. Uncertainty. Isolation. IF there is a God, my problems are greater then they are.  Imagine that. I carry a darkness that is more powerful that God.

I can no longer tell myself it’ll be OK, or just hold on and see what happens. I’m playing out in my head the mourning, the loss of a place to feel secure as a home, and I can’t deal. I’m asking myself what do I do? Because I know I won’t cope or survive, so how do I also leave this world. And can I bring myself to it when the time comes? And if so, when do I start to shift all my stuff so that there’s not much to clean up or clear out after me? And as I won’t be claiming my pension or using my savings, who do I leave it all to? Yes, these are the actual questions I’m asking myself.

So no, as per my posts of late, I’m not OK, but also no, there is nothing anyone can do, but thank you for asking, for the kind thoughts.

But anyone who has been in the world long enough will know, it really is all just a crock of shit.

And then you die.