Trying to stay engaged with life
August 27, 2024 7:03 AM Subscribe
For an adult on the autism spectrum, with 90s childhood autism trauma and andhedonia, I should be very happy. I am a software engineer. That's what my mom and therapists thought was the best possible outcome.
However, I find myself really disconnected from life and I don't take any of my problems seriously anymore or think about a future much. How can I value my life and my future like I used to? Can I, even?
More details: I'm trans, 35f.
I'm very scared and worried I won't be able to keep doing my job very long. I'm also neglecting my health and body, almost more out of self loathing and nihilism rather than any positive joy I get from video games and cannabis.
I'm in therapy once a week. Sometimes my therapist suggests I take FMLA time off. One of my friends who works for a suicide hotline and with at risk youth who are way worse off than me says I should consider an outpatient or even inpatient program due to ideation. Would any of that do me any good? Would it build towards a life I want to keep, or just traumatize me and create a work gap I can't afford?
Previous sources of meaning:
Religion: I was raised under mainline Calvinist faiths. My mom didn't take the theology very seriously but I figured I should consider hell real if we're in faiths that have it, and realized that my inner coldness and lazy nature meant I'd probably not be in the Elect. So then I converted to a non-calvinist faith that's vague on if there's an afterlife or not. I love it and the people but I feel really tired and ashamed and disgusting most days. On weekends, I struggle to get out of bed, and I feel like a bad practitioner of my faith and don't know how to talk to other people and rationalize that if there is a God, me being a slightly different place on the surface of the earth in an infinitesimal sliver of time probably isn't a huge deal. And I don't even believe in God, I just feel sad being alone and not having anything other than pleasure I can't feel and people who don't get me.
College friends: They tend to be male and have more going on in life.
Old job friends: I feel ashamed that they knew me when I was taking care of myself. I think I was a sweeter, less cynical person, and that the me from before the pandemic, who was still in denial and dating people I wasn't really into just to keep up appearances, it's just a totally different person even if it was just a few years ago.
Trans people: I got into some arguments with the group I transitioned with and they don't want much of me. I feel like I make being trans with money look weird and sad and unfulfilling. I wasn't really the type who wanted to transition when I was little, but I like that the hrt reduces my anhedonia. My mom thought I was vain and self absorbed as a child so without other trans people to normalize the behavior, I feel pretty shit about taking time on makeup and personal grooming, especially if I'm not counting on being with people who like me. My work has me do a bunch of dei stuff because I don't bother to pass anymore, and the other trans women, out or stealth, don't want much shit to do with me. I don't blame them.
Autistic people: I've found the people most eager to talk about their autism are self diagnosed and able to dress themselves nicely and wear good makeup and think they deserve all that, and then moan that their lives were so terrible because their parents just didn't know they were autistic and didn't give them the tools to enjoy their lives. Since most of the cruelest things said and done to me were justified by my autism diagnosis and the way I was isolated and marked from the general population of children at school, I find that uncomfortable. Other autistic people also find my depression upsetting, especially if they're trans and are hoping transition will fix their lives (it will fix one part of their lives).
Love and sex: Look at this shit. Look at this fucking shit. I was engaged to a woman I loved for nearly six years, and my stupid and impractical fetish made it bad. I tried quitting my HRT and not watching porn after that question to see if it'd cease since someone was all "ohh you're just like that because you watch too much porn" even though it's been the sole driver of my libido since I could feel arousal. I'm not sure of the neurology or endocrinology, but I still feel arousal towards my kink even weeks late on my shot. And then I just noticed coworkers with that bodytype more (and ugh, they have common interests and I enjoy their company, but I know how I feel deep down so I feel disgusting), who would almost certainly not be into someone with my baklava layers of dysfunction and body most cis lesbians would rather I keep t4t and a fetish who's vilification I can only argue with so much. Being engaged to someone who sincerely loved me back felt so good it broke me, and it makes dating desperate men and trans women I'm not even attracted to just feel sadder. I feel like I missed my shot to date people who might be okay with my fetish or even be into it when I was younger and could pass as an awkward 20 year old instead of a permanently scarred autistic person. I thought my fetish was pure evil from my mom's values as a child and my loosening up around it as I've lost hope, I feel a bit angry that my old "have no fun so you can be as smart as a neurotypical until you die and then enjoy heaven" morals might have taken that opportunity from me.
Current job: I work on a consumer product that people like. This product doesn't kill people on purpose. It's consistent with my values and makes people happier. I meet people at parties who are all "I love product! Keep making product for me!" and truthfully I want to be proud but they're always the straightest, richest people who seem to have no trouble finding things to occupy their time. I don't like commuting into the city even though I love the city because I have to walk around homeless people to work in a glass tower with people into international vacations and going to celeb parties. One of the buildings I see from my window is associated with a pretty famous suicide, and the other week when I was feeling really down, I wrote a suicide note at my desk. I've told my therapist. She gets I have ideation and I have numbers I'm supposed to call if I actually act on it. Suicide isn't explicitly verboten in my faith. I feel ashamed my productivity has been bad, and that I struggle to get out of bed and focus and have the motivation and efficiency and general enjoyment of the work and each other's company my colleagues seem to have. My own team planned a party without me and it's been hard not to take it personally when I've been on the same team as them for years. But otoh I am autistic and sad and terrified to apply myself so I don't blame them. I threw out the note and told them I'm autistic explicitly, like they don't know, and like anyone would care. I asked my manager if I can work remote for my autism, and he said I need to file paperwork with hr and make a case for it if I really want it, with it being implied I shouldn't unless it's medically urgent. So I turtle up with headphones. I'm hours late most days but get enough done I do okay on performance reviews, since I don't do anything at night because I am not wired like my coworkers and feel like I'm not a great friend when I have them anyways. I feel like I deserve to get fired or laid off constantly and loathe myself for having no control.
Family: My mom was really hard on me for being expensive growing up. I thought having a good job would fix that once and for all. It didn't. She still gets frustrated with me and yells at me for acting like I'm the center of the universe, and then my sister says nasty things about how her yelling feels, and then blames me for the situation. I told her how much I thought it'd fix things, and she made it clear they don't really need me financially thanks to some inheritance in the family, and that I can live life for my own sake and that they'd like to see more of me. But truthfully, the trauma and my weirdness leave me feeling like a filthy disappointment and my job hasn't proven to matter much in justifying my existence.
Roommate: My roommate is an internet friend who's been having some poor health living with me, giving her a prickly personality. I'm used to people getting meaning when their bodies aren't being nice to them. And I like feeling like I can help at least one person. Sometimes I wish she was more grateful, and I try to gently tell her it's really expensive for me to accommodate her in such an expensive area if she's unhappy. But then she gets mad and says she doesn't want to burden her mom, which is totally valid. Her mom had to retire early from a stroke. We're not really that different people, she's just who I'd be with less therapy and without a rich family to pay for college and if I don't enjoy life, what good is my money to me? And she does help with cooking and cleaning when her chronic fatigue is down. My therpist and other friends suggest kicking her out, but they all know I'm too passive. I've been frank with her about my money and mental health. She does much better when she has her meds, but there's a shortage and she blames me for living in a state that has a less good medicaid system than where we used to live, and she thinks my poor mental health is a terrible stressor. I don't blame her.
Ex who told me people can tell I'm faking: She's been encouraging me to try dating within my kink. She has a wife and family and seems to have a life with meaningful things to do and a future she wants to see, and she's generally been nice to me even when my mental health was at its worst. She sometimes suggests I kick out my roommate, who she sees as a moocher, but that's really not consistent with my values, and then I have to manage a big move that she'll hate the whole time, and we'd no longer be friends. She thinks the fact I haven't made a dating profile is a sign I'm not serious about getting better, but on the other hand, it feels like reasonable people have arguments against practicing my kink at all, and I feel like this part of me would drive off people with the bodytype I'm into that aren't thrilled with it. I also don't have any nice selfies from after the pandemic, and don't think I'd be an amazing catch. I'm also incredibly nervous and embarrassing around women I'm attracted to because people that large aren't typical in my part of the country. It's charming in your early 20s, but in your mid 30s it makes me think I look like a serial killer.
Hobbies: I like solitary hobbies people can't judge me for. I bake, and try not to think about how awkward and stupid it is. I bring it into work because where else am I going to take it? The church I'm scared to attend? I have a ham radio license and like listening to weird stuff. Scared shitless to transmit and make actual contacts. Had a bad interaction with an old ham asking how to use digital modes affordably and not really sure the men into this wonky hobby want to hear what I have to say. I've been fixing up a project car, but I'm scared to put the last part on and see the thing run badly and prove that I'm an idiot who gets into big expensive projects to forget about death. I also knit and crochet, but whenever I talk about it to other ladies at work, I'm such an annoying wonk about it. I also like programming as a hobby, which makes it embarrassing that I can barely focus at work or get out of bed because I'm scared of my coworkers. I signed up for a programming retreat in my post-SI fugue and haven't even booked lodging for it. It's in a week and overseas. I've never left the country. Truthfully, I think I'm inviting disaster through procrastination.
Health: Given my fetish, I have a complicated relationship with my health. I was terrified of death when I was little, even before my father passed away, and felt very concerned about if he went to hell or not. I thought dying sounded scary and painful and like a kid, I assumed I'd be consciously observing blackness with no stimulation for eternity, and not just ceasing to be. I found the idea of avoiding every toxic chemical and moving every day and never playing video games extremely virtuous and hated myself for falling short and loved myself when I'd develop the habit. I wouldn't say I hate my body, it's fine. It'd look nice if I was a man and felt safe working out near men as a neurodivergent man. As a queer, people just assume if they bug you in a clean part of a big city, the cops will arrest them. Other trans women say I'm attractive but IDK if that's sincere, and I've had chaser boyfriends very into what I have going on. Despite the awkwardness, I was happy they were happy to an extent, even if I had to pretend they had a different gender and body to play along. I used to be an avid runner, running 5-10 miles a day in the summer after my retail job. It made me feel alive and I could do it alone. I passed out and got hurt badly one time and stopped, and have been trying to get back into it, but it's depressing to have so little stamina.
My father passed away only a few years older than I am now of lung cancer. He didn't smoke, but ran a lot, probably too close to superfund sites. The past few years, I took up vaping cannabis to stop having emotional meltdowns, and my roommate who cooks and cleans developed bad chronic fatigue syndrome and kinda scared away my roommate who helps pay rent and I was too depressed to get another person to pay back in, and told her I'd like to get a roommate when things improve. So we ended up ordering takeout for most meals about six months or a year with me not wanting to get in an argument over it. I tried gaining some weight on purpose during that time to see if maybe I could bargain with my stupid fetish by being fat myself instead of with someone else who's fat on purpose. Because if anyone must be harmed by this stupid thing I never asked for, let it be me. It just made me feel big, lethargic, and depressed, and it reminded me of every time my mom yelled at me for getting too fat for my dress clothes as a child, yelling at me that I was treating my body poorly and disrespecting God. I don't believe in an afterlife, and I think oblivion means I won't remember my joy or suffering after I'm dead. It's a shift in worldview that leaves me wondering why we build sandcastles and obsess over our dying bodies, and I know the answer is that a sick body dies fast and can't do much so if joy is better than suffering, a healthy body offers more opportunities for joy. But that doesn't make me want to get into bed, or not go through 2 grams of THC concentrate a week.
Question:
How do I work through any of this and find a life I want to live to completion? I feel like I'm fighting to keep waking up and missing what I don't think I can have. I'm getting old and strange, like my mom's brother she negatively compared me to growing up, who she said came out weird because there wasn't enough early intervention therapy style stuff for people like him in the sixties. Like I said in the last question, she used to say unless I fix my autism with proper masking, I'll have to get a mail order bride and should expect to get fired and rejected at any time. (I don't think a mail order bride would be ethical for several reasons, nor do I think either of us would be happy. It's not hard for me to suppress myself to be in a relationship, just boring and unfulfilling and the people who go for that with my body tend to be slim and amab and are the types to hate hearing that you're imagining someone else to function). I've been really struggling to justify things like paying bills, writing thank you notes, getting out of bed. I've been a ghost to my old friends on social media and professional colleagues who emailed me a bunch and then stopped over the past few years. I've given up on the idea of not embarrassing myself, because I don't think I really have much social capital anymore, and if people see what I am, maybe they'll be honest about what life actually can do for someone like me.
More details: I'm trans, 35f.
I'm very scared and worried I won't be able to keep doing my job very long. I'm also neglecting my health and body, almost more out of self loathing and nihilism rather than any positive joy I get from video games and cannabis.
I'm in therapy once a week. Sometimes my therapist suggests I take FMLA time off. One of my friends who works for a suicide hotline and with at risk youth who are way worse off than me says I should consider an outpatient or even inpatient program due to ideation. Would any of that do me any good? Would it build towards a life I want to keep, or just traumatize me and create a work gap I can't afford?
Previous sources of meaning:
Religion: I was raised under mainline Calvinist faiths. My mom didn't take the theology very seriously but I figured I should consider hell real if we're in faiths that have it, and realized that my inner coldness and lazy nature meant I'd probably not be in the Elect. So then I converted to a non-calvinist faith that's vague on if there's an afterlife or not. I love it and the people but I feel really tired and ashamed and disgusting most days. On weekends, I struggle to get out of bed, and I feel like a bad practitioner of my faith and don't know how to talk to other people and rationalize that if there is a God, me being a slightly different place on the surface of the earth in an infinitesimal sliver of time probably isn't a huge deal. And I don't even believe in God, I just feel sad being alone and not having anything other than pleasure I can't feel and people who don't get me.
College friends: They tend to be male and have more going on in life.
Old job friends: I feel ashamed that they knew me when I was taking care of myself. I think I was a sweeter, less cynical person, and that the me from before the pandemic, who was still in denial and dating people I wasn't really into just to keep up appearances, it's just a totally different person even if it was just a few years ago.
Trans people: I got into some arguments with the group I transitioned with and they don't want much of me. I feel like I make being trans with money look weird and sad and unfulfilling. I wasn't really the type who wanted to transition when I was little, but I like that the hrt reduces my anhedonia. My mom thought I was vain and self absorbed as a child so without other trans people to normalize the behavior, I feel pretty shit about taking time on makeup and personal grooming, especially if I'm not counting on being with people who like me. My work has me do a bunch of dei stuff because I don't bother to pass anymore, and the other trans women, out or stealth, don't want much shit to do with me. I don't blame them.
Autistic people: I've found the people most eager to talk about their autism are self diagnosed and able to dress themselves nicely and wear good makeup and think they deserve all that, and then moan that their lives were so terrible because their parents just didn't know they were autistic and didn't give them the tools to enjoy their lives. Since most of the cruelest things said and done to me were justified by my autism diagnosis and the way I was isolated and marked from the general population of children at school, I find that uncomfortable. Other autistic people also find my depression upsetting, especially if they're trans and are hoping transition will fix their lives (it will fix one part of their lives).
Love and sex: Look at this shit. Look at this fucking shit. I was engaged to a woman I loved for nearly six years, and my stupid and impractical fetish made it bad. I tried quitting my HRT and not watching porn after that question to see if it'd cease since someone was all "ohh you're just like that because you watch too much porn" even though it's been the sole driver of my libido since I could feel arousal. I'm not sure of the neurology or endocrinology, but I still feel arousal towards my kink even weeks late on my shot. And then I just noticed coworkers with that bodytype more (and ugh, they have common interests and I enjoy their company, but I know how I feel deep down so I feel disgusting), who would almost certainly not be into someone with my baklava layers of dysfunction and body most cis lesbians would rather I keep t4t and a fetish who's vilification I can only argue with so much. Being engaged to someone who sincerely loved me back felt so good it broke me, and it makes dating desperate men and trans women I'm not even attracted to just feel sadder. I feel like I missed my shot to date people who might be okay with my fetish or even be into it when I was younger and could pass as an awkward 20 year old instead of a permanently scarred autistic person. I thought my fetish was pure evil from my mom's values as a child and my loosening up around it as I've lost hope, I feel a bit angry that my old "have no fun so you can be as smart as a neurotypical until you die and then enjoy heaven" morals might have taken that opportunity from me.
Current job: I work on a consumer product that people like. This product doesn't kill people on purpose. It's consistent with my values and makes people happier. I meet people at parties who are all "I love product! Keep making product for me!" and truthfully I want to be proud but they're always the straightest, richest people who seem to have no trouble finding things to occupy their time. I don't like commuting into the city even though I love the city because I have to walk around homeless people to work in a glass tower with people into international vacations and going to celeb parties. One of the buildings I see from my window is associated with a pretty famous suicide, and the other week when I was feeling really down, I wrote a suicide note at my desk. I've told my therapist. She gets I have ideation and I have numbers I'm supposed to call if I actually act on it. Suicide isn't explicitly verboten in my faith. I feel ashamed my productivity has been bad, and that I struggle to get out of bed and focus and have the motivation and efficiency and general enjoyment of the work and each other's company my colleagues seem to have. My own team planned a party without me and it's been hard not to take it personally when I've been on the same team as them for years. But otoh I am autistic and sad and terrified to apply myself so I don't blame them. I threw out the note and told them I'm autistic explicitly, like they don't know, and like anyone would care. I asked my manager if I can work remote for my autism, and he said I need to file paperwork with hr and make a case for it if I really want it, with it being implied I shouldn't unless it's medically urgent. So I turtle up with headphones. I'm hours late most days but get enough done I do okay on performance reviews, since I don't do anything at night because I am not wired like my coworkers and feel like I'm not a great friend when I have them anyways. I feel like I deserve to get fired or laid off constantly and loathe myself for having no control.
Family: My mom was really hard on me for being expensive growing up. I thought having a good job would fix that once and for all. It didn't. She still gets frustrated with me and yells at me for acting like I'm the center of the universe, and then my sister says nasty things about how her yelling feels, and then blames me for the situation. I told her how much I thought it'd fix things, and she made it clear they don't really need me financially thanks to some inheritance in the family, and that I can live life for my own sake and that they'd like to see more of me. But truthfully, the trauma and my weirdness leave me feeling like a filthy disappointment and my job hasn't proven to matter much in justifying my existence.
Roommate: My roommate is an internet friend who's been having some poor health living with me, giving her a prickly personality. I'm used to people getting meaning when their bodies aren't being nice to them. And I like feeling like I can help at least one person. Sometimes I wish she was more grateful, and I try to gently tell her it's really expensive for me to accommodate her in such an expensive area if she's unhappy. But then she gets mad and says she doesn't want to burden her mom, which is totally valid. Her mom had to retire early from a stroke. We're not really that different people, she's just who I'd be with less therapy and without a rich family to pay for college and if I don't enjoy life, what good is my money to me? And she does help with cooking and cleaning when her chronic fatigue is down. My therpist and other friends suggest kicking her out, but they all know I'm too passive. I've been frank with her about my money and mental health. She does much better when she has her meds, but there's a shortage and she blames me for living in a state that has a less good medicaid system than where we used to live, and she thinks my poor mental health is a terrible stressor. I don't blame her.
Ex who told me people can tell I'm faking: She's been encouraging me to try dating within my kink. She has a wife and family and seems to have a life with meaningful things to do and a future she wants to see, and she's generally been nice to me even when my mental health was at its worst. She sometimes suggests I kick out my roommate, who she sees as a moocher, but that's really not consistent with my values, and then I have to manage a big move that she'll hate the whole time, and we'd no longer be friends. She thinks the fact I haven't made a dating profile is a sign I'm not serious about getting better, but on the other hand, it feels like reasonable people have arguments against practicing my kink at all, and I feel like this part of me would drive off people with the bodytype I'm into that aren't thrilled with it. I also don't have any nice selfies from after the pandemic, and don't think I'd be an amazing catch. I'm also incredibly nervous and embarrassing around women I'm attracted to because people that large aren't typical in my part of the country. It's charming in your early 20s, but in your mid 30s it makes me think I look like a serial killer.
Hobbies: I like solitary hobbies people can't judge me for. I bake, and try not to think about how awkward and stupid it is. I bring it into work because where else am I going to take it? The church I'm scared to attend? I have a ham radio license and like listening to weird stuff. Scared shitless to transmit and make actual contacts. Had a bad interaction with an old ham asking how to use digital modes affordably and not really sure the men into this wonky hobby want to hear what I have to say. I've been fixing up a project car, but I'm scared to put the last part on and see the thing run badly and prove that I'm an idiot who gets into big expensive projects to forget about death. I also knit and crochet, but whenever I talk about it to other ladies at work, I'm such an annoying wonk about it. I also like programming as a hobby, which makes it embarrassing that I can barely focus at work or get out of bed because I'm scared of my coworkers. I signed up for a programming retreat in my post-SI fugue and haven't even booked lodging for it. It's in a week and overseas. I've never left the country. Truthfully, I think I'm inviting disaster through procrastination.
Health: Given my fetish, I have a complicated relationship with my health. I was terrified of death when I was little, even before my father passed away, and felt very concerned about if he went to hell or not. I thought dying sounded scary and painful and like a kid, I assumed I'd be consciously observing blackness with no stimulation for eternity, and not just ceasing to be. I found the idea of avoiding every toxic chemical and moving every day and never playing video games extremely virtuous and hated myself for falling short and loved myself when I'd develop the habit. I wouldn't say I hate my body, it's fine. It'd look nice if I was a man and felt safe working out near men as a neurodivergent man. As a queer, people just assume if they bug you in a clean part of a big city, the cops will arrest them. Other trans women say I'm attractive but IDK if that's sincere, and I've had chaser boyfriends very into what I have going on. Despite the awkwardness, I was happy they were happy to an extent, even if I had to pretend they had a different gender and body to play along. I used to be an avid runner, running 5-10 miles a day in the summer after my retail job. It made me feel alive and I could do it alone. I passed out and got hurt badly one time and stopped, and have been trying to get back into it, but it's depressing to have so little stamina.
My father passed away only a few years older than I am now of lung cancer. He didn't smoke, but ran a lot, probably too close to superfund sites. The past few years, I took up vaping cannabis to stop having emotional meltdowns, and my roommate who cooks and cleans developed bad chronic fatigue syndrome and kinda scared away my roommate who helps pay rent and I was too depressed to get another person to pay back in, and told her I'd like to get a roommate when things improve. So we ended up ordering takeout for most meals about six months or a year with me not wanting to get in an argument over it. I tried gaining some weight on purpose during that time to see if maybe I could bargain with my stupid fetish by being fat myself instead of with someone else who's fat on purpose. Because if anyone must be harmed by this stupid thing I never asked for, let it be me. It just made me feel big, lethargic, and depressed, and it reminded me of every time my mom yelled at me for getting too fat for my dress clothes as a child, yelling at me that I was treating my body poorly and disrespecting God. I don't believe in an afterlife, and I think oblivion means I won't remember my joy or suffering after I'm dead. It's a shift in worldview that leaves me wondering why we build sandcastles and obsess over our dying bodies, and I know the answer is that a sick body dies fast and can't do much so if joy is better than suffering, a healthy body offers more opportunities for joy. But that doesn't make me want to get into bed, or not go through 2 grams of THC concentrate a week.
Question:
How do I work through any of this and find a life I want to live to completion? I feel like I'm fighting to keep waking up and missing what I don't think I can have. I'm getting old and strange, like my mom's brother she negatively compared me to growing up, who she said came out weird because there wasn't enough early intervention therapy style stuff for people like him in the sixties. Like I said in the last question, she used to say unless I fix my autism with proper masking, I'll have to get a mail order bride and should expect to get fired and rejected at any time. (I don't think a mail order bride would be ethical for several reasons, nor do I think either of us would be happy. It's not hard for me to suppress myself to be in a relationship, just boring and unfulfilling and the people who go for that with my body tend to be slim and amab and are the types to hate hearing that you're imagining someone else to function). I've been really struggling to justify things like paying bills, writing thank you notes, getting out of bed. I've been a ghost to my old friends on social media and professional colleagues who emailed me a bunch and then stopped over the past few years. I've given up on the idea of not embarrassing myself, because I don't think I really have much social capital anymore, and if people see what I am, maybe they'll be honest about what life actually can do for someone like me.
Here's a starting point: Neurodivergent Therapists. (Disclaimer: I have never interacted with anyone in this directory.)
posted by heatherlogan at 7:21 AM on August 27 [2 favorites]
posted by heatherlogan at 7:21 AM on August 27 [2 favorites]
Reading your post, I am struck by your focus on optimizing/bettering each aspect of your life. Even in cases where you say you're okay with how it is, "it is what it is" and you "can't blame" anyone for the way things have turned out in a particular aspect of life, you're very focused on TALLYING UP THE SCORE. Do you know what I mean? It's like you think if your life could only be arranged such that the tally comes out in the high positives for some, or even just one, aspect of your life, then perhaps you would not be feeling suicidal. And so you obsessively continue to tally up the score for each area of your life.
I don't think happiness works that way. In another life you might objectively have a high positive tally in every single area of life and still be unhappy, even suicidal. Because happiness isn't about the tally. Some part of your unhappiness may be because there's a chemical issue in your brain which is at least partially causing depression and suicidality. And some part of it is almost certainly that you're so obsessive about tallying those scores to begin with.
So I have one simple suggestion for you: try to spend just a little time every day doing something that brings you peace, or calm, or joy, or satisfaction. (Something harmless. So, like, no gambling, no drugs. More like singing, splashing in puddles, masturbating, digging soil, hammering nails, dancing, wrapping presents, writing postcards to friends, doing origami, etc.) Just start with 5 minutes a day and maybe after a few weeks you can try upping that.
The idea is to give yourself a little bit of easy joy. Allow yourself to think about what activity might work for you today or tomorrow. Allow yourself to make plans for your five minute joy. This may not ~cure~ you, and it certainly isn't a substitute for real treatment for feeling suicidal. But it seems to me that you need a bit of an antidote for obsessively cataloging the scores for each area of your life, and shifting your focus to easy joy for just five minutes every day is a good start.
posted by MiraK at 7:33 AM on August 27 [6 favorites]
I don't think happiness works that way. In another life you might objectively have a high positive tally in every single area of life and still be unhappy, even suicidal. Because happiness isn't about the tally. Some part of your unhappiness may be because there's a chemical issue in your brain which is at least partially causing depression and suicidality. And some part of it is almost certainly that you're so obsessive about tallying those scores to begin with.
So I have one simple suggestion for you: try to spend just a little time every day doing something that brings you peace, or calm, or joy, or satisfaction. (Something harmless. So, like, no gambling, no drugs. More like singing, splashing in puddles, masturbating, digging soil, hammering nails, dancing, wrapping presents, writing postcards to friends, doing origami, etc.) Just start with 5 minutes a day and maybe after a few weeks you can try upping that.
The idea is to give yourself a little bit of easy joy. Allow yourself to think about what activity might work for you today or tomorrow. Allow yourself to make plans for your five minute joy. This may not ~cure~ you, and it certainly isn't a substitute for real treatment for feeling suicidal. But it seems to me that you need a bit of an antidote for obsessively cataloging the scores for each area of your life, and shifting your focus to easy joy for just five minutes every day is a good start.
posted by MiraK at 7:33 AM on August 27 [6 favorites]
One of my friends who works for a suicide hotline and with at risk youth who are way worse off than me says I should consider an outpatient or even inpatient program due to ideation.
I agree with this friend. Considering your previous question and this one, the time between the two, the intensification of your self loathing in your descriptions, and how you seem to be adept at rationalizing choices that make you feel worse in the medium and long term, I would absolutely say that an outpatient program, or at least intensive work with a team of mental health caregivers with specific experience with trans, neurodivergent, and complex ptsd clients. Maybe also a religious counselor? It sounds like you respond well to philosophical and theological structures, and it’s entirely fine to utilize them even if you don’t have faith. Regardless, you really do seem to be heading towards a crisis, and quickly. It sounds like for now you have access to resources. I implore you to use them as soon as possible. If you are comfortable sharing your approximate location, mefites may be able to recommend specific programs, places, or professionals, as well as local accommodation laws.
I just also want to say, thirty five is not old. You might feel old because you’re dealing with so much and every day is a struggle. But you aren’t literally old. There is nothing wrong with being old, but you aren’t. You are an age where you can make meaningful connections with a huge range of people. Little kids can see you as a cool adult. Seniors can connect with you as a peer in areas of expertise (definitely look into fibercrafts) or as a fascinating young friend who can teach them about new stuff. Twenty-somethings can connect with you about art and culture, but also respect your advice. You are a good age and there are very few social scenarios where your age would factor into having a negative experience.
I’m just gonna copy and paste part of what I wrote as an answer to your previous question, because I hope you will read it again and see the earnestness with which I wrote it:
You deserve family that loves you and wants you to feel secure and able to experience whatever interests you. You deserve friends who think you are fun and cool to spend time with. You deserve lovers who think you are hot and like your body and mind. You deserve romantic partners who cherish you and allow you to cherish them in return. Just because all of these things are hard to acquire and experience does not mean you are undeserving of them.
posted by Mizu at 7:59 AM on August 27 [11 favorites]
I agree with this friend. Considering your previous question and this one, the time between the two, the intensification of your self loathing in your descriptions, and how you seem to be adept at rationalizing choices that make you feel worse in the medium and long term, I would absolutely say that an outpatient program, or at least intensive work with a team of mental health caregivers with specific experience with trans, neurodivergent, and complex ptsd clients. Maybe also a religious counselor? It sounds like you respond well to philosophical and theological structures, and it’s entirely fine to utilize them even if you don’t have faith. Regardless, you really do seem to be heading towards a crisis, and quickly. It sounds like for now you have access to resources. I implore you to use them as soon as possible. If you are comfortable sharing your approximate location, mefites may be able to recommend specific programs, places, or professionals, as well as local accommodation laws.
I just also want to say, thirty five is not old. You might feel old because you’re dealing with so much and every day is a struggle. But you aren’t literally old. There is nothing wrong with being old, but you aren’t. You are an age where you can make meaningful connections with a huge range of people. Little kids can see you as a cool adult. Seniors can connect with you as a peer in areas of expertise (definitely look into fibercrafts) or as a fascinating young friend who can teach them about new stuff. Twenty-somethings can connect with you about art and culture, but also respect your advice. You are a good age and there are very few social scenarios where your age would factor into having a negative experience.
I’m just gonna copy and paste part of what I wrote as an answer to your previous question, because I hope you will read it again and see the earnestness with which I wrote it:
You deserve family that loves you and wants you to feel secure and able to experience whatever interests you. You deserve friends who think you are fun and cool to spend time with. You deserve lovers who think you are hot and like your body and mind. You deserve romantic partners who cherish you and allow you to cherish them in return. Just because all of these things are hard to acquire and experience does not mean you are undeserving of them.
posted by Mizu at 7:59 AM on August 27 [11 favorites]
Perhaps this reflection would be helpful. If not, please ignore it.
It sounds like when you were a child, your faith and your family told you over and over again that you were disgusting and not worthy of joy or love. (They were 100% wrong. Completely and totally wrong. So very very wrong.) And now, in the way that human brains are wont to do, you've taken over the job of telling yourself those negative messages because unconsciously you think that being miserable and self-hating will make you safe and, paradoxically, lovable.
The good news is that those messages aren't your own. It will take some practice and some support (likely through individual and group therapy, plus medication and possibly something like supervised ketamine treatments), but you can remove those implanted messages and rediscover the MuppetNavy who loves themselves and know that they are worthy of love.
I know that seems impossible. But I'm here to tell you it is entirely possible. Perhaps a first step is to try saying to yourself "I am worthy of joy without punishment" and see what feelings come up. Then tell your therapist about that experiment and ask to work with it.
posted by mcduff at 8:02 AM on August 27 [1 favorite]
It sounds like when you were a child, your faith and your family told you over and over again that you were disgusting and not worthy of joy or love. (They were 100% wrong. Completely and totally wrong. So very very wrong.) And now, in the way that human brains are wont to do, you've taken over the job of telling yourself those negative messages because unconsciously you think that being miserable and self-hating will make you safe and, paradoxically, lovable.
The good news is that those messages aren't your own. It will take some practice and some support (likely through individual and group therapy, plus medication and possibly something like supervised ketamine treatments), but you can remove those implanted messages and rediscover the MuppetNavy who loves themselves and know that they are worthy of love.
I know that seems impossible. But I'm here to tell you it is entirely possible. Perhaps a first step is to try saying to yourself "I am worthy of joy without punishment" and see what feelings come up. Then tell your therapist about that experiment and ask to work with it.
posted by mcduff at 8:02 AM on August 27 [1 favorite]
There is a crucial aspect to my personal wellbeing as an autistic person that I refer to as stubbornness. Not in the way that describes a relationship to the outside world, but in the way that can describe your relationship to your own locus. It's a way of valuing yourself in a fundamental way. It seems that deep self didn't find a lot of nurture in your upbringing. Acceptance that you are perfect according to your own metric at this moment, and can feel excited about ways to evolve that into greater appreciation for your own being in the future, including later learning that you were working with faulty premises or priorities in this moment, but the learning and adapting is a forever process.
The relationship of getting our needs met in engagement with the outside world is fraught and variable. So, my point is that it's more unstable to have too much, like, weight, or where you place your center of gravity, there. There is no external metric that applies to your value. You have a sense of the you that you are, and its yours to protect and invest in. YOUR consent is vital.
I know what it is to express extreme generosity to try to smooth unhealthy family dynamics. It hasn't worked for me. The closest I have gotten to being actually happy has been maintaining curiosity/attention/value about myself, and being on HER side. (and not so much on the surface things, an idea isn't better because it's mine, but something necessary to my wellbeing deserves to be defended because I am worth defending)
posted by droomoord at 8:20 AM on August 27 [3 favorites]
The relationship of getting our needs met in engagement with the outside world is fraught and variable. So, my point is that it's more unstable to have too much, like, weight, or where you place your center of gravity, there. There is no external metric that applies to your value. You have a sense of the you that you are, and its yours to protect and invest in. YOUR consent is vital.
I know what it is to express extreme generosity to try to smooth unhealthy family dynamics. It hasn't worked for me. The closest I have gotten to being actually happy has been maintaining curiosity/attention/value about myself, and being on HER side. (and not so much on the surface things, an idea isn't better because it's mine, but something necessary to my wellbeing deserves to be defended because I am worth defending)
posted by droomoord at 8:20 AM on August 27 [3 favorites]
Purely FYI, I am a retired software engineer (though never diagnosed with autism some folks have wondered about me) and also Dave Plummer an early Microsoft Engineer (low employee number) recently announced he is on the spectrum. He published a book "The Nonvisible Part of the Autism Spectrum" by David William Plummer. This may be of no interest to you, but just though I'd mention it.
posted by forthright at 9:19 AM on August 27 [2 favorites]
posted by forthright at 9:19 AM on August 27 [2 favorites]
Anhedonia is notoriously difficult to treat. Mine has improved over the years, mostly just by chance I think, but I did a few things that seemed to help:
1. Daily checklists of a few mental health promoting things. For me, this was paying attention to something I found beautiful (like something in nature or nice art), following up on something I was curious about (instead of just shrugging and not bothering), and going for a walk every day. Yours may vary.
2. Finding a few things I enjoyed at least a tiny bit and doing them. For me that was yummy food and phone games that gave me dopamine hits. They can go on the checklist too.
3. Drastically reducing the amount of time I spent on/ with people who didn't make me feel good. For me, being alone was better. It sounds like your most significant relationships right now are with your roommate and your mother, both of whom make your mental health worse. I strongly advise kicking out the roommate (you can move yourself too if that makes it easier; "sorry I can't cover rent anymore I'm downsizing to a one-bedroom") and limiting your interactions with your mother. This will give you more space to grow and eventually more space for other relationships.
4. Both SSRIs and THC made me less engaged with the world and ended up not being good for me. Your mileage may vary but it's worth discussing options with your psychiatrist.
posted by metasarah at 10:13 AM on August 27 [2 favorites]
1. Daily checklists of a few mental health promoting things. For me, this was paying attention to something I found beautiful (like something in nature or nice art), following up on something I was curious about (instead of just shrugging and not bothering), and going for a walk every day. Yours may vary.
2. Finding a few things I enjoyed at least a tiny bit and doing them. For me that was yummy food and phone games that gave me dopamine hits. They can go on the checklist too.
3. Drastically reducing the amount of time I spent on/ with people who didn't make me feel good. For me, being alone was better. It sounds like your most significant relationships right now are with your roommate and your mother, both of whom make your mental health worse. I strongly advise kicking out the roommate (you can move yourself too if that makes it easier; "sorry I can't cover rent anymore I'm downsizing to a one-bedroom") and limiting your interactions with your mother. This will give you more space to grow and eventually more space for other relationships.
4. Both SSRIs and THC made me less engaged with the world and ended up not being good for me. Your mileage may vary but it's worth discussing options with your psychiatrist.
posted by metasarah at 10:13 AM on August 27 [2 favorites]
Came here to say what heatherlogan said. I am not you and my struggles are different struggles. But damn, you need a new therapist and perhaps an outpatient or inpatient program as well. Everything you are feeling sucks, but you, yourself, are not sucky, disgusting, horrible, etc. metasarah's advice to schedule daily joy (however briefly) has been helpful to me. Best of luck!
posted by Bella Donna at 11:57 AM on August 27 [1 favorite]
posted by Bella Donna at 11:57 AM on August 27 [1 favorite]
My feeling reading your story is that you need to be angry. You need to allow yourself to be angry. I say this as someone who is terrified of ever becoming angry and is doing their best to overcome that fear. There are patterns in your story that are familiar. So much of your despair and hopelessness and self-loathing sounds like a rage that is eating you alive.
posted by spindle at 12:27 PM on August 27 [3 favorites]
posted by spindle at 12:27 PM on August 27 [3 favorites]
You sound desperately depressed. Go to someone who can sign you out on FMLA tomorrow at the latest (I saw the doc who was taking walk ins at my usual office) and get a break from at least one of the things making your life miserable. Get into that outpatient program. Maybe try antidepressants if you’re interested, they have changed my life. All the other stuff will be easier to deal with when you aren’t thinking about being dead so much, I know this from experience.
Also: do something nice for yourself every day - get the flowers you saw and liked, get the candy you want to try, just a simple easy thing that feels okay to good-ish so you can start remembering what that feels like. It’s fine if nothing sounds good, do something you used to like or that lots of other people like and see how it goes. Practice treating yourself like someone you care about.
posted by momus_window at 12:46 PM on August 27 [4 favorites]
Also: do something nice for yourself every day - get the flowers you saw and liked, get the candy you want to try, just a simple easy thing that feels okay to good-ish so you can start remembering what that feels like. It’s fine if nothing sounds good, do something you used to like or that lots of other people like and see how it goes. Practice treating yourself like someone you care about.
posted by momus_window at 12:46 PM on August 27 [4 favorites]
I was in my 50s before I got to experience my kinks in real life. Does it suck that you have such an inconvenient kink? Absolutely. And yes, you do sound desperately depressed. I say this as someone who has struggled with depression virtually all of my adult life. I hope you can get the help and support you need before your misery deepens.
posted by Bella Donna at 1:08 PM on August 27 [1 favorite]
posted by Bella Donna at 1:08 PM on August 27 [1 favorite]
From my experience, the intersection of autism and shame/depression/trauma/attachment issues/cluster B stuff (whew, that's a lot but it applies to me and I think you) - present some unique challenges. Some really, really tricky things that make therapy nearly useless since you're defenses, without you realizing it, are going HELL NO I CAN EXPLAIN EVERYTHING, THERE'S A REASON I'M THIS WAY AND IT'S HOPELESS BUT I'M DOING THE BEST I CAN....and on and on and on in circles.
For example, I know that depression tells me lies, like everything will always be awful and the morally correct option is to not be alive anymore. These days I go "quiet down, liar", knowing that it will pass. But in the past, my autistic need for authenticity insists that I don't get to argue with that voice, that's it's really me, that it's manipulation and akin to a spiritual death to argue with one's internal sense of who I am and what is right. That's so hard to grapple with!
Also, if you have the PDA flavor of autism (I don't) - maybe your insides are screaming "No, if I do what psychology and the therapists and society are asking, I will die". My god, that's hard.
And then, of course, the therapists ARE often wrong because they can't see how your autism plays into your suffering and your thinking.
I hope there's maybe a grain of something in there that helps.
I've been on medication for 20 years now (I'm bipolar) and I have not strayed so far from the conviction that when things are really, really bad - the 1st thing required is medication. Your depression is not even close to being controlled right now. I can see that by your levels of shame and suicidal ideation. People think that depression is a feelings, lack of pleasure thing. But I promise that it is also a THOUGHTS thing. The first thing I notice when I go from improperly to properly medicated is that THE BAD THOUGHTS GET QUIETER. So please, do take time off and do try outpatient. The point of outpatient IMHO will be for you to have a very thorough mental health assessment done that might clarify your diagnoses and find a good medicine regime. "I've tried SSRIs" - is not good enough but sadly it's a step a lot of people give up at. There are lots of meds and most people with complex issues need a cocktail.
I send you a hug and I really wish for you to feel better.
posted by kitcat at 1:43 PM on August 27 [5 favorites]
For example, I know that depression tells me lies, like everything will always be awful and the morally correct option is to not be alive anymore. These days I go "quiet down, liar", knowing that it will pass. But in the past, my autistic need for authenticity insists that I don't get to argue with that voice, that's it's really me, that it's manipulation and akin to a spiritual death to argue with one's internal sense of who I am and what is right. That's so hard to grapple with!
Also, if you have the PDA flavor of autism (I don't) - maybe your insides are screaming "No, if I do what psychology and the therapists and society are asking, I will die". My god, that's hard.
And then, of course, the therapists ARE often wrong because they can't see how your autism plays into your suffering and your thinking.
I hope there's maybe a grain of something in there that helps.
I've been on medication for 20 years now (I'm bipolar) and I have not strayed so far from the conviction that when things are really, really bad - the 1st thing required is medication. Your depression is not even close to being controlled right now. I can see that by your levels of shame and suicidal ideation. People think that depression is a feelings, lack of pleasure thing. But I promise that it is also a THOUGHTS thing. The first thing I notice when I go from improperly to properly medicated is that THE BAD THOUGHTS GET QUIETER. So please, do take time off and do try outpatient. The point of outpatient IMHO will be for you to have a very thorough mental health assessment done that might clarify your diagnoses and find a good medicine regime. "I've tried SSRIs" - is not good enough but sadly it's a step a lot of people give up at. There are lots of meds and most people with complex issues need a cocktail.
I send you a hug and I really wish for you to feel better.
posted by kitcat at 1:43 PM on August 27 [5 favorites]
Response by poster: If anyone knows about a good outpatient program for people like me in the general NYC metro area, I'm interested to learn more.
I'm not sure what recovery would look like, and I wish I just knew if a relationship with someone I'm attracted to is a reasonable thing to hope for anymore. One friend keeps telling me to make dating profiles and just give it a shot, starting with fetish sites and spreading out to more mainstream ones to get comfortable with it. But consensus here seems to be such a thing would be way premature.
posted by MuppetNavy at 3:58 PM on August 27 [1 favorite]
I'm not sure what recovery would look like, and I wish I just knew if a relationship with someone I'm attracted to is a reasonable thing to hope for anymore. One friend keeps telling me to make dating profiles and just give it a shot, starting with fetish sites and spreading out to more mainstream ones to get comfortable with it. But consensus here seems to be such a thing would be way premature.
posted by MuppetNavy at 3:58 PM on August 27 [1 favorite]
findtreatment.gov sorted with location:nyc/ mh/ outpatient shows 200+ results. good luck!
posted by HearHere at 7:45 PM on August 27 [1 favorite]
posted by HearHere at 7:45 PM on August 27 [1 favorite]
Send a message to your therapist asking them for program recommendations and guidance about outpatient programs and other professionals who might be good to work with. They probably would love to know you are taking your concerns seriously.
posted by Mizu at 9:11 PM on August 27 [2 favorites]
posted by Mizu at 9:11 PM on August 27 [2 favorites]
"I wish I just knew if a relationship with someone I'm attracted to is a reasonable thing to hope for anymore."
I think you should keep this hope and take steps to pursue what you want. I'm also someone with very specific "types" of people I'm attracted to. Having hope that I can find them has kept me alive. I've spent a lot of years very hopelessly lonely, but also a lot of years in relationships with people who were a GREAT fit sexually/physically (things didn't work out for unrelated reasons). It's not impossible, and the belief that it is makes depression worse IME. If you're in a bad place, the stakes are already low, so trying for what you want is unlikely to make things worse - the "what do I have to lose" philosophy. I sort of made it my second "job" to date intentionally, knowing my pool was tiny. The good news for you is there are a lot of fat queer women in the world!
You see yourself as having a fetish and I won't argue with that, but maybe reframing it, instead, as more of a specific criteria for the person you date could make it feel different, maybe better?
posted by CancerSucks at 10:32 PM on August 27 [4 favorites]
I think you should keep this hope and take steps to pursue what you want. I'm also someone with very specific "types" of people I'm attracted to. Having hope that I can find them has kept me alive. I've spent a lot of years very hopelessly lonely, but also a lot of years in relationships with people who were a GREAT fit sexually/physically (things didn't work out for unrelated reasons). It's not impossible, and the belief that it is makes depression worse IME. If you're in a bad place, the stakes are already low, so trying for what you want is unlikely to make things worse - the "what do I have to lose" philosophy. I sort of made it my second "job" to date intentionally, knowing my pool was tiny. The good news for you is there are a lot of fat queer women in the world!
You see yourself as having a fetish and I won't argue with that, but maybe reframing it, instead, as more of a specific criteria for the person you date could make it feel different, maybe better?
posted by CancerSucks at 10:32 PM on August 27 [4 favorites]
The way CancerSucks puts it feels really light and natural: could at least some of your feelings be framed as “I am attracted to fat queer women” AND “I have feeder-related kinks” - two distinct, if sometimes overlapping, aspects of your self?
posted by rrrrrrrrrt at 11:41 PM on August 27 [4 favorites]
posted by rrrrrrrrrt at 11:41 PM on August 27 [4 favorites]
Response by poster: I'm also supposed to go overseas the first time next week for a programming retreat (I was feeling burned out and self destructive, saw the blog post announcing it, and figured I'd do something unusual instead of harmful, like how I told the office I'm autistic after writing the note I didn't follow through on, to test how hostile the space is compared to how it feels I guess).
I'm a bit nervous. It's in the UK. I have no idea what happens if you have a meltdown overseas, especially outside of a big city. Hopefully technically being on vacation and programming stuff I'm passionate about instead of work will be enough for me to hold it together.
posted by MuppetNavy at 6:46 AM on August 28 [2 favorites]
I'm a bit nervous. It's in the UK. I have no idea what happens if you have a meltdown overseas, especially outside of a big city. Hopefully technically being on vacation and programming stuff I'm passionate about instead of work will be enough for me to hold it together.
posted by MuppetNavy at 6:46 AM on August 28 [2 favorites]
I just want to give you a hug. Please let us know how your overseas visit go! I think your instincts are spot-on about getting away and doing something positive for you.
I'd been in that dark place too, and please don't let it win. I can tell from your post that you have a beautiful soul. You are meant for beautiful things. If your family has been telling you otherwise, that's on them and it's not true. Please take care. May peace and joy be yours always. I'll check back on your post to see how you are doing.
posted by Intagliatedtaro at 6:56 PM on September 1 [1 favorite]
I'd been in that dark place too, and please don't let it win. I can tell from your post that you have a beautiful soul. You are meant for beautiful things. If your family has been telling you otherwise, that's on them and it's not true. Please take care. May peace and joy be yours always. I'll check back on your post to see how you are doing.
posted by Intagliatedtaro at 6:56 PM on September 1 [1 favorite]
Psychedelics were what cured my 90s childhood autism trauma and anhedonia. I had different problems than you do, but very similar thought processes. I found MDMA, LSD, mushrooms, ketamine, and nitrous helpful for different things. Happy to answer any questions you have about them and exactly how they helped.
You might also get something out of reading Devon Price, particularly his recent stuff on Medium/Substack about fetishes.
posted by wheatlets at 3:29 PM on September 4 [1 favorite]
You might also get something out of reading Devon Price, particularly his recent stuff on Medium/Substack about fetishes.
posted by wheatlets at 3:29 PM on September 4 [1 favorite]
Response by poster: Here's an update: I've been at the event for about a week now. The venue is beautiful and the people are lovely and the history is wonderful. Working with other developers contributing to my favorite software project out of passion has been fun. I actually had always been too scared to actually contribute to other people's software projects at all, because I've been terrified I'll read the room wrong or break something important, but having the actual core devs in person to laugh off my anxieties has been a big help.
I can't help but be reminded of that eater essay about Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat being about a fantasy of alienated labor. Doing work I love in a very pretty place with nice people has made me feel happiness and the earthly attachments that come with it, which is good and bad.
Being without weed has left me to self regulate in a way beyond holding it together until I get home, which is both good and bad. A lot of the impromptu outings involved a considerable amount of walking and taking public transit and coordinating a large group. Us being nerds with ham licenses and wading to islands at low tide and stuff, we've been using amateur radio to coordinate. It's beautiful and satisfying, and I have no trouble with the stamina, but it is a lot of stimulation, and I am autistic.
During the low-tide island trip, the guys I walked with talked about fooling around on Tinder and Bumble in the area, and how one hoped he'd meet a girl who'd give him a guest pass to her gym. He also talked about how he used to weigh a lot more for bodybuilding purposes and how miserable it made him, unprompted. Men love to talk about how they work out, and feeling intimidated by the polished corporate a-types to use the free gym at my work, I felt kinda down on myself for being out of shape despite walking a lot as an urbanite.
The rest of the group took the trip pretty fast, so I didn't get a chance to take selfies for dating apps like I'd like, but I still got to see lots of nature. I saw a lot of mollusks going through their tidal routines, and little caves carved by erosion, and felt the kind of awe that tears through the nihilism and fear of death that Terror Management Theory talks about. Then I thought about how sad it is that my fetish would make someone less able to navigate slippery rocks and international travel in general, and deprive them of such awe, the awe I think my coworkers aim to get when they go on vacation, and I'm still carrying that cognitive dissonance.
But walking on wet sand for miles was a weird sensation, and we shared a car with some loud teens on the train home. I agreed to operate a radio and help keep the group together, but something about the train's electronics kept making it go off whenever it'd slow down. And then on the walk home, one of the developers who I think is the type to get sillier when he's tired kept singing and saying dumb jokes on the radio, and every time I heard the radio turn on I felt a white hot anxiety about if everyone was safe, followed by something I merely found annoying because I was tired.
I had a minor meltdown after one too many times of his annoying transmissions (which is also technically illegal but I wasn't gonna rat him out to the UK's FCC equivalent, but autistic people love rules and well specified communication protocols) and swore a bit louder than I'm proud of. Nobody seemed to notice but I judged myself. When we got back, I had to find a quiet spot to play video games and listen to podcasts. I was weak and then spiralled about how strange and unlovable I am to a very good friend. When I hurt, I can be such an awful user. She tends to meet my self loathing and fruitless rumination with sarcasm and advice, and suggested I sign up for a plus sized dating app and see if I get any matches or whatever in a place I'm not going to stay around anyways, just to see if it's true. So I did that, and put some sincere work into the profile. I felt bad about there being so many women built smaller than me by nature who saw themselves as fat and were clearly insecure about it. I haven't made any matches yet, but to be fair it's only been a day and I really shouldn't take it so seriously.
I'm still not sure I'm looking forward to ~50 more years of life. I know I should be an adult and not care so much, but I miss having a relationship with someone I'm attracted to, even if I had to use my imagination a bit to still function sexually. It makes me feel really sad that I see so many plain men on their phones with fat girlfriends who just seem checked out, while I'm quite likely limited to just trans women desperate to not be alone, who are almost never the bodyshape I'm into.
This is why I feel really jealous of people who have fetishes that can't happen in real life, as sad as people like that can feel. I believe sex work is work, and I've debated paying for a fetishy session even though I think I have some low-key shame to work through about the idea of being a john. It makes me feel sad that I used to have a relationship about shared experiences and taking care of someone who took care of me in return and sincere, deep loving affection, and now I'm considering paying money to get sat on in an airport hotel. At least inflation fetishists and giantess fetishists get to make their peace that their fantasies can't be realized by anyone. They don't have to see the objects of their desire riding the bus, and then feel the shame of realizing their brain objectified a normal person living their life.
Also... I spoke with my therapist about outpatient programs. My therapist told me she's been in one, and tells me she thinks an outpatient program might be a mistake for me, professionally, since it would take me out of work for big chunks of the week for months at a time. While FMLA may mean I can take time off, at will employment and the realities of a corporate budget and me being a low performer because I'm depressed and scared to talk to my coworkers could mean it'd just make sense to hit me with a PIP that becomes a termination.
posted by MuppetNavy at 7:21 AM on September 8
I can't help but be reminded of that eater essay about Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat being about a fantasy of alienated labor. Doing work I love in a very pretty place with nice people has made me feel happiness and the earthly attachments that come with it, which is good and bad.
Being without weed has left me to self regulate in a way beyond holding it together until I get home, which is both good and bad. A lot of the impromptu outings involved a considerable amount of walking and taking public transit and coordinating a large group. Us being nerds with ham licenses and wading to islands at low tide and stuff, we've been using amateur radio to coordinate. It's beautiful and satisfying, and I have no trouble with the stamina, but it is a lot of stimulation, and I am autistic.
During the low-tide island trip, the guys I walked with talked about fooling around on Tinder and Bumble in the area, and how one hoped he'd meet a girl who'd give him a guest pass to her gym. He also talked about how he used to weigh a lot more for bodybuilding purposes and how miserable it made him, unprompted. Men love to talk about how they work out, and feeling intimidated by the polished corporate a-types to use the free gym at my work, I felt kinda down on myself for being out of shape despite walking a lot as an urbanite.
The rest of the group took the trip pretty fast, so I didn't get a chance to take selfies for dating apps like I'd like, but I still got to see lots of nature. I saw a lot of mollusks going through their tidal routines, and little caves carved by erosion, and felt the kind of awe that tears through the nihilism and fear of death that Terror Management Theory talks about. Then I thought about how sad it is that my fetish would make someone less able to navigate slippery rocks and international travel in general, and deprive them of such awe, the awe I think my coworkers aim to get when they go on vacation, and I'm still carrying that cognitive dissonance.
But walking on wet sand for miles was a weird sensation, and we shared a car with some loud teens on the train home. I agreed to operate a radio and help keep the group together, but something about the train's electronics kept making it go off whenever it'd slow down. And then on the walk home, one of the developers who I think is the type to get sillier when he's tired kept singing and saying dumb jokes on the radio, and every time I heard the radio turn on I felt a white hot anxiety about if everyone was safe, followed by something I merely found annoying because I was tired.
I had a minor meltdown after one too many times of his annoying transmissions (which is also technically illegal but I wasn't gonna rat him out to the UK's FCC equivalent, but autistic people love rules and well specified communication protocols) and swore a bit louder than I'm proud of. Nobody seemed to notice but I judged myself. When we got back, I had to find a quiet spot to play video games and listen to podcasts. I was weak and then spiralled about how strange and unlovable I am to a very good friend. When I hurt, I can be such an awful user. She tends to meet my self loathing and fruitless rumination with sarcasm and advice, and suggested I sign up for a plus sized dating app and see if I get any matches or whatever in a place I'm not going to stay around anyways, just to see if it's true. So I did that, and put some sincere work into the profile. I felt bad about there being so many women built smaller than me by nature who saw themselves as fat and were clearly insecure about it. I haven't made any matches yet, but to be fair it's only been a day and I really shouldn't take it so seriously.
I'm still not sure I'm looking forward to ~50 more years of life. I know I should be an adult and not care so much, but I miss having a relationship with someone I'm attracted to, even if I had to use my imagination a bit to still function sexually. It makes me feel really sad that I see so many plain men on their phones with fat girlfriends who just seem checked out, while I'm quite likely limited to just trans women desperate to not be alone, who are almost never the bodyshape I'm into.
This is why I feel really jealous of people who have fetishes that can't happen in real life, as sad as people like that can feel. I believe sex work is work, and I've debated paying for a fetishy session even though I think I have some low-key shame to work through about the idea of being a john. It makes me feel sad that I used to have a relationship about shared experiences and taking care of someone who took care of me in return and sincere, deep loving affection, and now I'm considering paying money to get sat on in an airport hotel. At least inflation fetishists and giantess fetishists get to make their peace that their fantasies can't be realized by anyone. They don't have to see the objects of their desire riding the bus, and then feel the shame of realizing their brain objectified a normal person living their life.
Also... I spoke with my therapist about outpatient programs. My therapist told me she's been in one, and tells me she thinks an outpatient program might be a mistake for me, professionally, since it would take me out of work for big chunks of the week for months at a time. While FMLA may mean I can take time off, at will employment and the realities of a corporate budget and me being a low performer because I'm depressed and scared to talk to my coworkers could mean it'd just make sense to hit me with a PIP that becomes a termination.
posted by MuppetNavy at 7:21 AM on September 8
Response by poster: Wheatlets, I've tried those drugs, save for ketamine and nitrous, mostly to either deal with existential dread (when I was happier before the pandemic and felt bad about my great aunt being dead and scared that the heat death of the universe would erase all extrinsic meaning) or post-pandemic shame and self loathing. I actually sought out MDMA because I heard some pseudoscience about how autistic people on mdma get to feel how neurotypical people feel. It was pleasant, and I had nothing like a bad comedown the days after, I just felt a pleasant glow. But I don't think it changed much. Maybe it'd be better if I got therapy with this stuff?
posted by MuppetNavy at 7:26 AM on September 8
posted by MuppetNavy at 7:26 AM on September 8
Response by poster: PS: I forgot to mention that a big part of why I find paying for a fetishy encounter sad is also just that I want a relationship. Hanging around someone with that bodytype, even if we're not dating, makes me feel really good and safe, even the day after, even if I'm just like, next to them because of a plane seat assignment. I don't know why I'm wired this way at all. I wish I could will my libido and amygdala normal, especially since it is gross to objectify people this way. I think having a relationship with someone okay with me hugging and touching them would be less creepy and give me somebody to orient my life around. I am much more comfortable feeling happiness vicariously.
posted by MuppetNavy at 7:31 AM on September 8 [1 favorite]
posted by MuppetNavy at 7:31 AM on September 8 [1 favorite]
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posted by heatherlogan at 7:20 AM on August 27 [14 favorites]