Spiraling Up

This post was originally written September 28th, 2021

I am spiraling. I am having trouble accessing the place in my brain where I can anchor, make decisions and a solid plan. It feels like I'm on the side of a cliff clinging to a rock, looking for the next crevice, a toehold. Something. 

This morning I am keenly aware of the illusion of social media. The way that it makes us all appear better than we actually are. Or worse. Depending on the day and the skill of the writer of the post. I'm caught in this place between needing to present myself in such a way that one has confidence in the classes I have for sale and the knowledge that this need has pushed me further away from the authenticity that is so important to me. 

It has been one of the hardest years I've ever had to navigate on my own. The Autism diagnosis came about as a result of the pressure of it all. An ongoing agonizing divorce from an emotionally abusive and toxic relationship that is draining me of every resource, while he builds a story around him of yet another crazy woman he survived. I know this story, it's the same one he used to hook me when we were dating, the story of the crazy ex. He, the belittled man. And when she, with her past emotional baggage-- it's always the ones with the past emotional baggage, comes apart at the seems from the emotional abuse he dealt her and turns back to her old broken behavior patterns, he has the evidence he needs to support the story. 

That girl in the news, Gabby, the one who was killed by her fiance after being pulled over on an epic road trip she had planned, he who was riding the coattails of her dream had been reported for physically abusing her by a witness somewhere along the way, managed to convince the police that she was the crazy one because of her tears and her tumble of words that were mixed up with the toxic guilt women carry for being abused, for not being able to behave their way into not being abused, for not being good enough not to deserve his abuse.  While he, the calm, cool, and collected one laughs with the police and gets a fist bump for his tolerance of what is obviously just another hysterical woman. When I look at her crying in those videos of body-cam footage and see her tear streaked face. I see me. 

Why are we so hysterical? Why indeed. 

My past emotional baggage centers around being Autistic and not knowing. It is the trauma that I grew up under, the not knowing why I couldn't behave my way into the acceptance, and the belonging, and the love, and affirmation I so desperately needed. Every little girl and boy so desperately needs. To continuously bump up against the invisible barriers or trying to behave my way into having my needs met when I couldn't understand why the behaviors expected of me were so hard. I learned self blame. There was no other explanation. 

Fast forward to the perfect storm of pressures. Pressure closes all the doors in my brain. It leaves me without access to the place where I can manage much of anything. The divorce that is still ongoing, brought about the need to address the decade of unfiled back taxes. Another story of Autistic meltdown, burnout, and narcissistic abuse. Life doesn't care if there is too much going on to deal with all at once. Other family matters, all stemming from this missing knowledge of neurodivergent wiring, are bubbling to the surface, coming to a head. Everything. All of it. All at once. 

I've been in a near constant anxiety attack the past few days. It started with a phone call, the kind of a mother's worse nightmares. Not THE phone call. But the one that leaves you waiting for the next. My heart is breaking. 

I sit here writing this post as I anticipate making a call myself. The one that will start the process of applying for disability. Something I should have done ages ago. Something I've needed to face for so very long. Something I have avoided like the plague as the lie in my head convinces me that this is the evidence that will prove to the whole world what a loser I am. The fact that I have worked and worked and worked so hard trying to find a way. Trying to find the right combination to make it possible to pull myself out of this pit and yet my body continues its spiral into chronic health conditions that keep pressing me to release it from those lies. Find a little relief to the pressure. 

The process may be hindered by the fact that I had that one good year. Last year, when everyone was home and the need to connect across the internet was so high that my classes sold swiftly. But that pace I set for myself has just about killed me. Today, one year ago, my appendix nearly burst. So many other physical issues are surfacing. Many of which are comorbid conditions to autism. It really was the missing link to explain it all. The knowing is such a relief. But the knowing doesn't make it all go away. 

And the reality is, this is such a competitive market. I won't stop teaching for now, but I'm working harder and longer for less and less return on my investment. And I can't keep up. The last half of the year would not have been possible without a PPP loan. It's time to start the paperwork process and see how much I will have to pay back. But there he is out there, watching my posts on social media and believing I've somehow made it big and he has revenge in his heart. Life is hard enough without a predator on your heels. 

Pity. This post is full of it. I don't tend to write from a place of pity. Today I needed a release. Somewhere. Somehow. I needed to put these words out there. And here, where maybe a dozen or so people will stumble across my words, I can release just a bit. Put it out there. Speak the truth. The real truth. The whole truth. 

I am spiraling. I just hope I'm spiraling up.