Next month will mark four years since that eureka moment and I finally realised that I am autistic. So much has happened during this time and I think that, finally, I am coming to terms with it all. Recently I seem to have emerged from a fug of gloom and even reduced my Fluoxitine daily intake (an SSRI anti-depressant medication) from 30mg down to 20mg and I hope to be able to decrease it further down to 10mg during the next few months.
I'm not really sure what has happened in my brain recently, but it feels so much lighter and I'm more cheerful as a result. Usually once the clocks go back in late October I am depressed as hell and used to think that it was related to the lack of sunlight or Seasonal Affected Disorder (SAD), this may still be so, but I really couldn't say. I am also looking forward to Christmas(!) which is bizarre. Bring on Macca singing Wonderful Christmastime I say. In the video he's seen, with the other remaining members of Wings (namely Linda McCartney and Denny Laine) buying drinks in a festively-decorated Sussex public house. Nice.
I am always grateful for supportive friends; a chosen few have stuck by me during the 'wilderness years'. I cannot really say that I have a great deal of time for most people, but there are some truly wonderful people out there.
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Tuesday, 21 November 2017
Sunday, 28 February 2016
Post #46 - Dealing With Others' Expectation of Your Condition
In many ways I believe that Asperger Syndrome presents rather like Biopolar Disorder in so many ways, hence why loads of Aspies, especially female ones, were misdiagnosed with the condition in the past. Why is that? Well, now that spring's in the air and it's getting lighter in the mornings, my being feels much more energised, which is the total polar opposite of how totally drained I feel in October/November when the nights draw in there's very little natural light available. I often have trouble sleeping, but luckily my handy Audible app is able to read to me during the small hours, failing that, I read the letters page of the Radio Times instead, as I find that particularly soporific and the levels of pedantry are unrivaled.
I am, by nature, a fairly fiesty person and don't have any issue in defending my own position in an eloquent, yet firm manner. I am a depressive, mainly because this, combined with it's evil twin, anxiety, is technically known as a 'co-morbid' condition to my primary diagnosis of AS. I take SSRI medication to level my moods and whatever the pros and cons of the drugs involved, they do work for me, despite making me very tired indeed and unable to consume a great deal of alcohol(!) Those who condemn clinical intervention are welcome to do so, but I don't think that it would be fair to those around me to leave my moods unchecked. It's an old analogy, but would you really suggest to someone with a broken back that they should begin limbo lessons next term and just 'get on with it'? You wouldn't? Hmm.
I called a friend out last night (oh, how I'm enjoying using this American terminology!) when she visited and started condemning a colleague's husband for taking time off of work to deal with his work-based anxiety and depression. Did she really and truly believe that the gentleman in question's GP would sign him off at the drop of a hat? No? Well, let me tell you, they don't tend to. Gawd help my friend if she needs assistance during a personal crisis of her own then! Carry on being a martyr if you wish to, but don't feel the need to judge others who choose to have children and, horror of horrors, need to take their child(ren) to school or nursery before commencing work. Maybe we all need to go back to a time when women were given their cards on marriage? No, well, I thought not.
I am, by nature, a fairly fiesty person and don't have any issue in defending my own position in an eloquent, yet firm manner. I am a depressive, mainly because this, combined with it's evil twin, anxiety, is technically known as a 'co-morbid' condition to my primary diagnosis of AS. I take SSRI medication to level my moods and whatever the pros and cons of the drugs involved, they do work for me, despite making me very tired indeed and unable to consume a great deal of alcohol(!) Those who condemn clinical intervention are welcome to do so, but I don't think that it would be fair to those around me to leave my moods unchecked. It's an old analogy, but would you really suggest to someone with a broken back that they should begin limbo lessons next term and just 'get on with it'? You wouldn't? Hmm.
I called a friend out last night (oh, how I'm enjoying using this American terminology!) when she visited and started condemning a colleague's husband for taking time off of work to deal with his work-based anxiety and depression. Did she really and truly believe that the gentleman in question's GP would sign him off at the drop of a hat? No? Well, let me tell you, they don't tend to. Gawd help my friend if she needs assistance during a personal crisis of her own then! Carry on being a martyr if you wish to, but don't feel the need to judge others who choose to have children and, horror of horrors, need to take their child(ren) to school or nursery before commencing work. Maybe we all need to go back to a time when women were given their cards on marriage? No, well, I thought not.
Tuesday, 10 November 2015
Post #22 - A (Working) Day In The Life (Of An Aspie) - The Morning: Part One
If people don't really understand how it feels like to be a working person with Asperger Syndrome combined with depression, I hope that these series of posts helps. I've split them into four because it's much easier to read and certainly less boring! It's hard, it's so darn hard and I'm slowly becoming housebound as a result, but writing about my issues makes it much more cathartic.
It's a work day, I know this because I will have woken extremely early and lain in bed, the duvet clamped around me, like an oversized sausage roll. At 7:30 I'll get into the shower and wash, because nobody, I repeat nobody, wants a stinky colleague do they? Teeth, make-up and dress - downstairs, coffee and breakfast. Usually my son is downstairs playing obscure YouTube videos on his pad - being autistic too, he's usually favouring something obscure, such as a series of the quiz Fifteen to One dating back to 1988.
At 8:12 precisely I'll leave the house and walk the thirteen minute journey to the station. I'll pass all of the parked cars which clog up my road because their owners are too mean to pay for the station car park. En route, I'll try to avoid walking behind someone smoking a cigarette or in front of anyone with clacking heels - it's a sensory thing and it bothers me, although it wouldn't concern the vast majority of the population.
Arriving at the station I always stand in the most suitable space to be directly in front of the last carriage of eight's rear doors. I like to sit in the exact middle of the car, which is the facing window seat of the middle bank of the six seat set. This normally means that I'll not have to sit directly beside or opposite anyone and as my journey concludes at the London terminus, I'm not getting in anyone's way. I'll listen to a podcast or an audiobook and if all else fails, I'll flick through a copy of the Metro.
The area I work in has been a gigantic building site for ages now and it's a really unpleasant environment as a result. There are huge wire barricades here, there and everywhere and everybody's so pushy. I follow the stream of commuter traffic along the road and then approach my building. I used to be able to climb up to my floor, but my fitness level has decreased over the past year.
When I arrive at my allotted desk, I worry whether someone else may be sitting there. It's situated in the middle of the work area away from any windows. The desk I sit on is smaller than the standard work area and this means if anybody sits next to me that they'll be far too close and my whole left side will tense up as a result. Considering all of this has happened prior to me even logging on, what hope is there for me as an employee?
I'm part-time and a flexible worker. Does this mean that my immediate colleagues believe that I'm a lazy slacker as a result?
It's a work day, I know this because I will have woken extremely early and lain in bed, the duvet clamped around me, like an oversized sausage roll. At 7:30 I'll get into the shower and wash, because nobody, I repeat nobody, wants a stinky colleague do they? Teeth, make-up and dress - downstairs, coffee and breakfast. Usually my son is downstairs playing obscure YouTube videos on his pad - being autistic too, he's usually favouring something obscure, such as a series of the quiz Fifteen to One dating back to 1988.
At 8:12 precisely I'll leave the house and walk the thirteen minute journey to the station. I'll pass all of the parked cars which clog up my road because their owners are too mean to pay for the station car park. En route, I'll try to avoid walking behind someone smoking a cigarette or in front of anyone with clacking heels - it's a sensory thing and it bothers me, although it wouldn't concern the vast majority of the population.
Arriving at the station I always stand in the most suitable space to be directly in front of the last carriage of eight's rear doors. I like to sit in the exact middle of the car, which is the facing window seat of the middle bank of the six seat set. This normally means that I'll not have to sit directly beside or opposite anyone and as my journey concludes at the London terminus, I'm not getting in anyone's way. I'll listen to a podcast or an audiobook and if all else fails, I'll flick through a copy of the Metro.
The area I work in has been a gigantic building site for ages now and it's a really unpleasant environment as a result. There are huge wire barricades here, there and everywhere and everybody's so pushy. I follow the stream of commuter traffic along the road and then approach my building. I used to be able to climb up to my floor, but my fitness level has decreased over the past year.
When I arrive at my allotted desk, I worry whether someone else may be sitting there. It's situated in the middle of the work area away from any windows. The desk I sit on is smaller than the standard work area and this means if anybody sits next to me that they'll be far too close and my whole left side will tense up as a result. Considering all of this has happened prior to me even logging on, what hope is there for me as an employee?
I'm part-time and a flexible worker. Does this mean that my immediate colleagues believe that I'm a lazy slacker as a result?
Wednesday, 23 September 2015
Post #8 - Aspies and Depression
The medical term for this kind of incidence is a 'co-morbid', but this isn't particularly popular with many people for quite obvious reasons. Morbidity tends to be something which isn't particularly sought after, a bit like the term 'morbidly obese'. Anyway, 'related condition' sounds much better. I recall the first time I became depressed - I was about nine-years-old at the time and it occurred just after Christmas when I'd been suffering from a chest infection. It was pretty horrible.
Yes, depression or clinical depression if you want to be 100% accurate. I think this is why many people with Autism/AS tend to be mis-diagnosed with bipolar disorder or other conditions such as Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD, although that moniker tends to make me think of Madonna's early 80s hit. I think it's mostly because an Aspie's world is a confusing one and trying to confirm to what many may call a 'social norm' is difficult and incredibly draining. I also believe that the onset of autumn makes me topple into Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). Hey ho - plenty of walking around outside for me tomorrow.
Yes, depression or clinical depression if you want to be 100% accurate. I think this is why many people with Autism/AS tend to be mis-diagnosed with bipolar disorder or other conditions such as Borderline Personality Disorder or BPD, although that moniker tends to make me think of Madonna's early 80s hit. I think it's mostly because an Aspie's world is a confusing one and trying to confirm to what many may call a 'social norm' is difficult and incredibly draining. I also believe that the onset of autumn makes me topple into Seasonally Affected Disorder (SAD). Hey ho - plenty of walking around outside for me tomorrow.
Sunday, 16 August 2015
Post #2 - When You Know Something's Wrong, But You Cannot Prove It
Following on from my initial chat with the GP, I waited about four months to have a pre-assessment session with my local Mental Health Team. This took place on a Thursday morning in the same satellite hospital my son was diagnosed in. It was basically me, my husband and a social worker who had a series of set questions to ask me. I'll admit it, I became very emotional throughout, especially when probed about my past history. The concluding part was to complete the AQ test, you know, this one: http://aspergerstest.net/aq-test/ I scored within the clinical range for ASD and was referred on towards a full diagnosis. I was informed that adult aspies don't really have any support available and that it would take absolutely ages. Fair enough, this is the NHS, they are overburdened to say the least.
My mental health suffered during the months which followed. I told my brusque boss, who couldn't have given a flying fig about autism and thought that it was just an excuse for me to slack off. I walked out of my job with stress, I couldn't stop crying - I'd had enough. My GP was sympathetic and I was prescribed antidepressants - Setraline to be precise. At home I recuperated, often walking around the garden listening to Radio 4's Desert Island Discs on podcast to block out any extraneous noise - Aspies hate such things. On the advice of the GP I self-referred for Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT) and had an introductory session. It was interesting, but a whole load of the other delegates were mute and the others, well without breaking confidences, one was very aggressive towards me indeed when I posed a question about women feeling more guilt than men tend to. Nice.
I returned to work a few weeks later, initially once a week. Things were fine at first, but once I upped my hours once more, it began to slide. The same problems arose: my performance was criticised and my self-esteem was at an all time low. I walked out of the job once again a few months later, I'd had enough, I wanted to leave, permanently. The GP signed me off once more and I was referred for counselling via the work programme. I fell out with the first counsellor, some things just don't click.
My mental health suffered during the months which followed. I told my brusque boss, who couldn't have given a flying fig about autism and thought that it was just an excuse for me to slack off. I walked out of my job with stress, I couldn't stop crying - I'd had enough. My GP was sympathetic and I was prescribed antidepressants - Setraline to be precise. At home I recuperated, often walking around the garden listening to Radio 4's Desert Island Discs on podcast to block out any extraneous noise - Aspies hate such things. On the advice of the GP I self-referred for Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT) and had an introductory session. It was interesting, but a whole load of the other delegates were mute and the others, well without breaking confidences, one was very aggressive towards me indeed when I posed a question about women feeling more guilt than men tend to. Nice.
I returned to work a few weeks later, initially once a week. Things were fine at first, but once I upped my hours once more, it began to slide. The same problems arose: my performance was criticised and my self-esteem was at an all time low. I walked out of the job once again a few months later, I'd had enough, I wanted to leave, permanently. The GP signed me off once more and I was referred for counselling via the work programme. I fell out with the first counsellor, some things just don't click.
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