Hollow Persistence

One thing that is certain about my Asperger’s Syndrome is that I will always have anxiety and reactive depression. It isn’t a particularly nice thought, but it’s one you have to become used to.

You see, I am an eternally sad human being.

People tell me I’m fine, that they see me and I have a conversation with them and I smile. And I won’t deny this. But it feels like the whole of me is hollow. If you tried to search for something deeper, you wouldn’t find it.

It’s a strange feeling to explain to someone who has never felt it and I don’t think you could ever understand if you haven’t. It’s like I’m drifting and yet at rock bottom at the same time. I can’t think. I can’t feel.

Perhaps I shouldn’t confess this but I rode to University the other day and I nearly crashed three times. I don’t know why. You might not believe me now but I am a perfectly capable driver. But there’s those moments were life drifts you by and you don’t even realise. Everything is a blur and the next thing you know, you’ve rear-ended a car (I have not done this). It was distressing to me when this happened because it has never happened before.

But what do you say to the doctors?

When it comes down to it, I don’t know if this hollow feeling is my Asperger’s or depression. The line is surprisingly thin. I’ve had issues with my mental health before so you’d think I’d know, yet feelings aren’t as clear cut as that.

It’s like floating in perpetual nothingness. It’s like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. As a whole, it’s dark and she keeps on falling and she can see things pass her by that she can’t reach. She wonders if she’ll ever reach the bottom and if she does, whether she’ll hurt herself. It is a terrible but relevant metaphor.

And in the end, you give advice that you very seldom follow because you’re lying in bed instead.

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