What Living With Depression Is Like For Me

Depression is a monster, a demon, an affliction that haunts me almost every day.  It doesn't take a break from tormenting me.

Sometimes late at night, I go into rages.  These rages generally happen between midnight and 3:00 AM.  During these rages, I might scream, throw things, curse, self-harm or want to seek revenge on those who have hurt me in the past.  When my rage is over, I will feel remorseful for doing these things.

Every little thing can make me anxious and just throw off my entire day.  For example, if I'm talking to my mom, and there's a misunderstanding between us, I'll just shut down and feel upset for a large part of the day.

I haven't been hanging out with my friends lately because I feel like they won't understand me, or they might even pull away from me if I tell them some of the things that I'm going through, so I isolate myself from everyone and talk to my imaginary friends instead.

Depression also affects my ability to take care of myself.  Some days I don't get out of bed until noon, and I just stay in my pajamas all day.  Some days I don't brush my teeth, comb my hair, or even shower.  I don't feel like exercising, and I eat a lot sometimes because I'm so damn stressed all the time.  I'm not lazy.  My executive functioning just takes a nosedive.

Some days I feel like life isn't worth living.  Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if I wasn't even here.  The only reason I am still here is for my family.  I know that they would be devastated if I were gone. I feel trapped because I don't want to hurt my family, but at the same time, I don't want to suffer anymore.

I'm not a monster, and I'm not a bad person.  I'm just a person who has been hurt, abused, bullied, excluded and misunderstood.  This, I believe, has what led to my depression.

I started to feel depressed when I was about 12 years old, when I started middle school.  At first, my mom and I both thought it was just puberty, but soon we realized that it wasn't, and I saw a school psychiatrist, who prescribed me some medication.

This mental illness that I have is impacting my ability to live out my dreams of becoming a writer and activist.  It's keeping me from loving life as an Autistic woman.

It's not my Autism that's making my life a living hell.  It's my depression.  If only I had a better support system, I could thrive, not just survive.

The only thing that's keeping me alive is my faith in God.  I've been reading my Bible, praying and listening to Christian music to try and increase my faith.  If I didn't have God in my life, I'd probably just totally fall apart.

I hope and I pray that I will win this battle with depression and that I will be able to live life happily again.

Autistic Youth Need Better Role Models

trigger warning: mention of suicide

I have just read a recent article from The Telegraph about an 11-year-old Autistic boy named Shane Laycock who committed suicide.  I wasn't too fond of how it was written, but I could relate to how the boy was feeling.

Shane said he hated adults because they always pushed him aside.  And as a way to cope with the feeling of being isolated, he would climb this tree and take refuge.

Since kindergarten, I have disliked my teachers because I felt that they didn't understand me.  As a result, I would have meltdowns.

Sometimes I felt even my own mother didn't understand my wants and needs.  I was also bullied by other classmates throughout elementary school, so I felt like I had nobody in my corner.

So when I was 8, I started creating imaginary friends.  It may seem unusual for an 8-year-old to create imaginary friends instead of getting rid of them, but this was my coping strategy for dealing with the isolation I was facing.

A year later when I was 9, I wrote my first story for a class assignment.  I the idea that I could create my own world the way I wanted it.  It made me feel like I finally had control over one aspect of my life.

And when I was 17, I started writing private short stories about my imaginary friends.  I guess imagination and writing go hand in hand.

But my creative brain didn't change the way I felt about myself.  When I got to middle school, I started to feel depressed from all the years of isolation and loneliness.  By the middle of the year, I even started to wonder if life was even worth living.

I continued to feel lonely throughout the years, so in my sophomore year of high school, I decided to try and fit in with my peers, just so I would be liked by them.  Big mistake.

It was a mistake because I ended up feeling even more depressed than ever.  School became so unbearable that I almost dropped out in my senior year.

Three years ago, I attempted suicide.  I felt so horrible about myself for so long that I just couldn't take it anymore.

Maybe if I had a good mentor in my youth I would have felt better about myself.  Maybe if Shane had a good mentor to show him that Autism isn't a bad thing he would still be alive today.

Yes, we have successful Autistic people like Temple Grandin, but it's not enough. We need role models who know what it's like to be different, who know what it's like to be shunned or mistreated because we're different, and who have compassion towards us.

Also, neurotypicals need to tell Autistic kids that they're not "bad" or lesser or defective, and they need to stop acting like they are.  It can really hurt their self-esteem.

Personally, I think the best mentor for an Autistic child is an adult who is Autistic themselves, but a neurotypical can also be a good mentor as long as they make the child feel empowered, not deflated.

Rest In Power, Shane Laycock.

The Neurodiversity Movement Needs To Be More Inclusive

Many Autistic people believe in accepting different neurotypes such as Autism, dyslexia and AD(H)D as a way a person's brain is wired and not a disease that needs to be cured or something that needs to be fixed.  This is known as the neurodiversity movement.

That said, I think the neurodiversity movement needs to be more inclusive.

For one thing, there is not a lot of room for different opinions when it comes to Autism Acceptance.  If your opinions differ from the majority of a neurodiversity group, they will harshly criticize you for it. We cannot allow this.

Case in point, I was in a Facebook group for Autistic adults, and two people in the group had puzzle pieces as their profile pictures.  Now, many Autistic people don't like the puzzle piece to represent Autism because they believe that it means that they're something that needs to be solved, like a puzzle.  The infinity symbol is preferred instead to represent neurodiversity.  The two people with the puzzle-piece profile pictures were criticized by another group member.  Personally, I'm ok with both symbols, but everyone has their own preferences.

Another problem with the neurodiversity concept is that there are not enough voices of people who are Black, Latino/a, Asian, Native American,  LGBTQ, lower-income, women, mentally ill people or trauma survivors.  As a Black, Queer, Autistic mentally ill woman who has been through trauma, I feel like my voice is being silenced by people who aren't as marginalized as I am, although I'm sure that this is not their intention.  We need to allow more marginalized groups to speak out on their experiences too.

In order for the neurodiversity movement to be truly accepting of everyone, these changes will have to take place.  Neurodiversity should be an accommodating concept for everyone, not a clique or a cult.