The Silver Chair

It's been years since I read the Chronicles of Narnia (as I write this). I was going to reach for my copy to look something up but realised I no longer even have one.

What I wanted to look up was a quote from The Silver Chair with which to start this blog - to make sure I quote it correctly. Thankfully, it's easy to look these things up online, which did also lead me into reading a bit more on the theme and lessons behind the book. About missed signs, false belief, faith. I don't know if those are relevant to what I'm about to write. I don't even know what I'm going to write, but I again have things inside I need to get out.

And so, the quote.

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you still have to decide what to do.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Silver Chair

It's a quote that has stayed with me ever since I first read it, nearly 25 years ago. It pulls you in then instantly slaps you. Well, it did me. Because it says 'aw, it's OK to cry', which is sympathetic, but then 'it won't fix anything though', which is the kicker.

I mean, it's completely true. I've done a lot of crying in life and even this morning I felt weepy. And yes, eventually, I do stop sooner or later. The problem is I've never, ever, ever, EVER known what to do.

And that itself is an over-arching despair that takes me back to more crying. Even if my face is dry and wears a smile, I still weep inside.

Wait, maybe it's wrong - you don't 'have to stop sooner or later'. I feel like I've lived for years with a broken heart, a mournful soul. Sometimes I cry on the outside, and when I stop crying on the outside, it's only because the crying has returned to the inside.

Like fungus.

We don't see most of the fungus. It's all around us in a vast network, communicating, sending signals, the internet of the natural world. Those toadstools we see just part of the reproductive cycle.

My physical tears are but a tiny proportion of the constant sadness inside of me.

Anyway, what to do, what to do. 

Here's the thing, I can only think of one 'solution' to my issues, and it is to die. I don't know of anything else that will end the pain and frustration I feel, but if I was dead, I'd not need any of the things I'm unable to get. It solves everything.

My lack of will to be here has not yet turned into action, but it won't take much to tip the precarious balance I exist in into that step.

But, I need to rewind a little, to talk about what brought me to writing today.

These past few days I have been feeling really quite insecure, physically and emotionally. I've been feeling anxious and scared. And I've been feeling impotent and trapped in just about every area of life - it's the same old that I've mentioned in other texts.

In no particular order: - 

Homelife. So, I continue to be this 44-year old (middle aged? Or approaching) man with little ability of independence, living with aging parents because I cannot afford my own home, and I would become very mentally unwell living on my own. This creates fear, because my parents are my safety net and so when they die, so does my safety net. I no longer have the familiar company that helps me feel stable and gives me the only sense of security I have. The people I turn to if I need help with something. Fear because the place I feel is home is provided by them. When they are gone, so too is my home. I can't even begin to think about where I'd then live, but the only option will be renting a room in a stranger's house with all the insecurity that comes from being a renter. And completely alone. I'm terrified just thinking about it. Honestly, I won't be able to cope with the loss of my mum, it'll destroy me and the grief will end me.

Work. I'm getting sore from the feeling of failure. I don't have a career, I'm just a low-level, below average paid worker, doing my best at the job I have, but also completely afraid within my role of what may come, because the slightest change to my routines triggers immense anxiety and sadly the organisation I work for is, like all organisations, unable to do much for those of us with neural diverse conditions. The world isn't made for us and so we must suffer daily. I see/hear/read of people talking about careers, progressions, going up in their workplaces, pursuing careers, hitting £40k salaries or more, earning the kind of income that enables them to afford their own homes and provide their own security, and maybe feel job satisfaction, or feel that they are worth something, are achieving things. Whereas for me, I'm at my ceiling. The stresses and responsibilities, the demands of anything above my level, whether in my current organisation or any other) are beyond me. So, I feel so much like an under-achiever, a real fucking loser. And I think about what else could I do? I'm not really good at much, my functionality is so easily hiccuped. I can't think of anything. There is no career-path for me, I've not the aptitude, I've not the passion for anything. I'm barely able to come to terms with the fact I exist when I wake up most mornings, never mind venturing forth into the world.

Adulthood. As I said above, I'm not independent. And I know it and it hurts. I feel like such a loser, a failure. I do not feel like a grownup, an independent adult. I don't have much of a life, because unless someone takes me somewhere then I don't really do much outside of the house, and I don't drive, and I don't like going anywhere unfamiliar on my own, I get easily lost and confused. For example, one often reads about other grownups who will take themselves off out somewhere, even away on holiday. I'm so malfunctioning that I couldn't even cope when friends offered to take me on holiday with them - too much outside of my routines and familiarity. A tidal wave of thought swept me over and I couldn't function. What I'm trying to get at is that thing whereby a person is their own being, self, with ideas and wants which they can generally then go and pursue. That independence of self. Honestly, trying to explain my autism sucks, but basically, it's like I'm a computer with a tiny RAM and it doesn't take much to make me completely freeze and crash. Or a vacuum cleaner with a short power cord, go too far and it pulls out the wall and so no power. I'm autistic, and it's like a part of my brain is missing so I cannot function fully.

I won't even get started on relationships. Honestly, who would want a broken thing? I don't even know how I could begin to cope with the demands and changes to routine. Yet, how lonely I get, how longing for the intimacy and touch and romance.

I know I'm just repeating myself from what I've said before. But this week, it's that idea of impotence and helplessness that's really prominent in my brain. How any 'normal' adult just goes and makes things happen, can make plans of action and pursue and have an idea of a solution. Can make a life for themselves and fill it with the things they want. Whereas I, I feel like a victim, a victim of being alive. I was created and it completely terrifies me because I don't know what I'm doing, and I can't make anything of myself or life.

So that's the crying. And it doesn't stop. It's maybe not so much that the quote has stuck WITH me but that I am stuck IN it. Because when it says 'you still have to decide what to do' I'm totally fucking clueless. I can't fix any of the things I'm worried about, I can't cure my autism, I'm not competent an adult enough to earn a decent wage, I can't suddenly find enough money to buy a house, I'm not good enough at anything to be a fulfilling career, I can't live my life and satisfy my needs and longings. And all of this just overwhelms me in a sense of failure and retardedation. It hurts so much to be aware of it.

I can't not be me, in a world where there is no place for me, but yet somehow, I'm here. I cannot survive this, and the only thing I that comes to mind of deciding what to do is, at some point, end it. Though I am not sure how yet. I'm just here, terrorised, holding on, and when it gets too much to bear, I let go. Honestly, I'm terrified of the future, the pain that lies in wait when I lose what little security I do have.  

"...and then you still have to decide what to do."

There isn't anything I can do.

"OK, try breaking it down into smaller steps" (which is something I get told)

Breaking what down? It's not that there is something I can do but it's too big. There is nothing I can do.

The Silver Chair was a magical chair. When the prince was sat upon it, he was enchanted and forgot who he was. But he was rescued and smashed the chair, freed from its spell.

There is no rescuing me though. Because my hopelessness isn't an illusion or enchantment. It's a reality borne of my disability. Even Aslan himself, if he were real, wouldn't be able to help other than use his big lion-ey incisors to put me out of my misery. 

“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or lat-”

'Tear out my throat, Aslan'.