u/thefroglady87

(39F, late diagnosed at 37) they see me crying, they see me suffering, words don’t come out so i write when they ask me what’s wrong, this is what came out of me today.

i feel i can’t anymore.

I would like to spend a day without pain, and without new pain.

I would like to spend a day without my brain being on high alert all 24 hours a day.

I would like to feel useful, part of something, to have a purpose, a short-term goal that excites me.

I would like to be able to draw again, and crochet. Everything at home reminds me that I can't do those things anymore, and back when I did them I felt useless. Now I realize how much I miss them because at least I was doing something.

I would like to be able to contribute money to this household instead of the other way around. I would like to be able to support myself. I would like not to feel so lost, so alone, for my brain and my body to help me instead of working against me.

I would like to live a neurotypical life, not to feel like I don't know who I am and that I've spent my whole life being someone fake, trying to please people, be liked, and be accepted, all for nothing.

I would like to enjoy things without constant noise in my head, without physical pain, without worrying about whether tomorrow I'll be able to get out of bed or not. I would like to live, but all I'm doing is surviving, and I know that's already a lot, but it isn't enough.

I feel like all the energy I've spent over the last thirty-something years has run out and there's nothing left. I feel empty of good things. I feel lonely because I wish I had a partner, a group of friends to share hobbies with. I would like to travel. I would like not to wake up every day knowing that every minute is an uphill struggle.

I'm exhausted. I'm afraid for my future and my present. I feel so much sadness, so much frustration, and even though I know this isn't my fault, I'm ashamed to be 39 years old and feel like a wreck. I feel like I'm worthless, like whatever potential I might have is completely wasted because I can't make use of it.

I cry from pain, from anguish, from having lost myself and so many things along the way, from not being able to truly rest or even sleep because my brain is on constant alert, and so is my body.

It’s all of this and so many more things that even I can't explain myself.

But it's impossible for me to say all of this out loud; I just can't find the words.