*scrubs face* Well, that went well. *snorts*
I ... don't get it. What is hard to understand about the cause of my anxiety being people, full stop, end of story? I just ... There's this blank face, when I try to explain why, and ...
And it's not that I haven't accepted the diagnosis of Asperger's. The Aspie thing is not the problem. It's that ...
When it was depression brought on by stressors, there was this idea that once you're recovered, you can work on removing the stressors, and you'll be ... more or less fine. (Well, no, but ... the idea was, the cause was outside of you, so you could try avoid it). When the diagnosis is Asperger's, it means the cause is inside me. Or, you know, is me. It's almost killed me twice in ten years, despite everything I could do to stop it, and it's never going away. This is ... This will be my life, and ... Fuck. There are times I'm not sure I'll be capable of that. I can't even attempt to explain why I'm scared without getting blank, confused faces, and I'm supposed to figure out how to survive the next ... On my own, I'm supposed to work out how to ...
I don't know that I can do that. I'll try, fuck, I will try. But ... according to my family, there is actually nothing recognisably left of the person I was before the last break, and ... I'm going to have to keep doing that? Indefinitely? An endless loop of crashing and rebuilding until the rebuilding part isn't doable anymore?
And I know, I know, there are lots of Aspies who manage it, but no-one will tell me how, and if I could figure it out on my own, do you think I would even be here, like this? I can't even explain what's wrong without getting ... polite confusion, mostly.
*thunks* We will find a counsellor. *waves hand aimlessly* This is the plan. Fuck. I need a counsellor to figure out how to stay alive. This is my life.
Urrrrgh! No, nevermind. I had a meeting, I'm depressed right now. Hah! *snorts* Oh, that's funny.
Everybody ignore me, mmm? I'm having a bad, bad day.