Autistic Isolation

How I keep meaning to come back to my blog. I keep forgetting it’s my friend I can share anything with. I do not like speaking to the Samaritans or Counsellors, I do not agree with paying for somebody with no experience of being depressed, suicidal, or autistic to sit there and nod at my problems. To sit there and let that person talk with minimal intervention does not help.
Personal feelings
Dark thoughts

Emotions brimming
all waiting on that person to say something…

Other than

‘I’m on holiday for the next few weeks. However, if you would to book another session. I would be more than happy for you to pay me to perform legilimency on you and make you feel used and disguting like a drunken one night stand!’

I really am struggling so much at the moment, I am on Zapain (sometimes Tramadol) for back pain, 200mg  Pregabalin and 225mg Venlafaxine for depression. I’ve tried many combinations, this has been the most successful, changing is awful, as is forgetting which I do quite often. I get confused about taken morning or night etc. I try and keep myself as busy as possible so I am active. I am a full-time father to two children, I have four house rabbits and other pets. I have a small pet sitting business with my partner, I work Amazon Flex shifts to try and bring some more money to the household as we do not have a lot. I help care for my partners mum, although I find it difficult to empathise and get on with her because of past issues. In fact I do not feel very connected to the family anymore after previous issues. I struggle to let things go that I hae found distressing or offensive. Me and my partner have been brought up in very different ways and our strong personalities seriously clash. I do not see most of my real family, because of past events, any others are not really interested in my life and see me as a burden, I don’t even receive Christmas cards from them and have given up sending them. I have a lovely family who I was fostered by during some of my youth, who I keep in touch with and love very much. I have no friends due to constantly being dragged from pillar to post when younger and because of a controlling alcoholic ex partner.

Counsellor form
How often do you think about suicide:

Once a month
Once a week
Once a day
All the time (I cant wait to go) √

The problem is we cannot discuss thoughts of suicide anymore because of the stigma attached if the person is unsuccessful –

‘Its just a cry for help’ or ‘Woe is me’

If it is carried out –
‘What a Coward’

‘People=Shit’ (Slipknot, 2001)

Actually on the basis that barely anyone will read this post, I will speak openly about it. I am not crying for help. In fact I am incredibly meticulous in my process. The below may apply if you are Depressed, Suffer Chronic Pain and/or have Aspergers.

Life really sucks.
I have worked so hard all my life, achieving very little. I had aspirations but for many reasons including myself, I failed to reach those aspirations. I have very little left to aspire to. I struggle to socialise and often feel shut down.

Life is too hard.
Everyday is so exhausting. Housework, Housework, Housework, Work, Work, Work. Pick up here, drop off there. Ungrateful moaning people smashing my confidence. For what? A messy house the next day and not even enough money in the bank to go out for a cheap meal.

Life is no fun.
I do not remember the last time I enjoyed something. in fact I do not know if it is even possible. I have not seen any of the world and do not have the money too.

Life is predictable. 
We get older, less able, more miserable until we can only sit in front of a box projecting propaganda.

Life never forgets.
Everybody should experience a happy childhood, with parents to love who you can turn to at any time. However, if you do not and you are subjected to drugs, alcohol, violence, sex and abuse that you are still forced to relive in your dreams twenty years later and probably the rest of your life. Not to mention the emotional scars that affect every decision you make.

Thinking about suicide helps me think of peace, letting everything go, not existing anymore. There is no afterlife to aspire to. I have no God and cannot even discuss Religion without feeling cheated and lied to. I have witnessed the sins of evil people being forgiven, simply for attending church.

So all said and done, why have you not done it yet?

I’ve tried a few times and been close, that was before responsibilities arrived. But now, how does one cope with feeling worthless, feeling isolated and feeling suicidal when you have children you love so dearly. To have them live with that is cruel. So you continue to live, inflict pain when necessary, take extra pills if you cannot cope.

Is this right?
Is that fair?
What alternatives are there?

I have written so much over the years about my life, obsessively trying to make sense of moments that define who I am, it is incredibly overwhelming. I am considering sharing some of my memoirs on here as some sort of release. For me it is then filed and the original can be disposed of.


Excuses Excuses

Are you okay? Yes, I am fine

I Excuse myself quietly to
Find somewhere to Hide

All I do is Lie
Making Excuses
To Excuse myself

For people who do not
Understand Mental Health

Another Excuse
Excuses get Exhausted

Nothing left to say
When all I needed

Was just One More Day

Another Lie
Because Everyday

Is Groundhog Day

No amount of suffering
Takes away the pain

Another Pill
Another Lie

Another Excuse
To try and feel High

I look deep 
Into that mirror 
That is staring at me
I cannot look anymore

The reflection is too 


There is no Cure
When Cursed with 
Chronic Depression 

I have no Desire
Just add it to the the Label

A Pathological Liar

I apologise if the layout is poor, this from my mobile. 

I was writing earlier and I realised just how much I have to excuse myself for my actions, white lies, not something I wish to disclose.

You can’t disguise, no you can’t disguise
Tell me lies
Tell me sweet little lies (Christine McVie, 1987)

A Catcher in the Rye by J.D Salinger reviewed

In my opinion, this is a beautiful piece of fiction that could be as close you could ever experience inside the mind of an autistic adolescent male.

Holden Caulfield is a seventeen- year-old dropout who has just been kicked out of his fourth school. Navigating his way through the challenges of growing up, Holden dissects the ‘phony’ aspects of society, and the ‘phonies’ themselves: the headmaster whose affability depends on the wealth of the parents, his roommate who scores with girls using sickly-sweet affection.

Written with the clarity of a boy leaving childhood behind, The Catcher in the Rye explores the world with disarming frankness and a warm, affecting charisma which has made this novel a universally loved classic of twentieth-century literature.

Continue reading

Trapped inside myself – Poetry (Free Verse) No Rules

Just a few words are for you so easy to say
but they cripple me and destroy my day
All the wrong in the world you can accuse me
by saying it’s you in the wrong, that you abuse me

I try finding a path untarnished and unobstructed
but I’m faced with a labyrinth, every end is dead
every road is winding, me up, messing with my head
Trapped, there is nowhere to go, I give in, self-destructed

I collapse, every vein injected with anxiety
no longer able to face society
behind my mask, the only place to hide
My heart and my soul have committed suicide Continue reading

The Struggles of Love

Trying desperately hard to achieve, but causing so much pain
Imprisoned by self-obligations, physically and mentally drained
Taunted and teased to the point of despair, no intention to be unfair,
Selfish or awkward, they are my obsessions so clearly I do not care
Just knowing it will not be good enough, whatever you give
Questions the meaning of life when you no longer want to live
You break and you cry, whilst I am just an emotionless wreck

I can see I am hurting you but I cannot feel why only shame
Envying your beautiful tears and wishing I could cry the same
To reassure you, but my bottle is broken, I have not cried for years
Anaesthetised from the world, insecure listening to your fears
Pouring your heart out, bleeding, pleading to become numb like me

If you would only look closer, my heart is solely yours do you not see
My love for you is so much truer than from anyone else, it could be

I am clearly no poet, but I do feel using it as a guide can help add some structure to writing particularly when really struggling to express yourself like I am today. This piece focuses on struggles in a relationship when one suffers from Aspergers and can see pain and emotion but not feel and understand it. However, everybody is unique.