I spent yesterday crying. I was worried that I slandered someone and mischaracterized an exchange and was painting someone in an unfair light. I woke up tired of crying so I went back through and read the stuff from 10 years ago.

I didn’t write an unfair characterization. This is why I stopped writing.

Sometimes I feel a little weird about the way my life has followed heteronormative pathways.

I feel like the resumption of cannabis has had the primary overarcing effect of causing me to really like myself again. The other meds do not grant me this grace whatsoever. I see my foibles–it’s not like I land in a narcissistic high of thinking I am perfect by any stretch. It’s more that I love myself like I love my kids; erring is human and I love humans so I love you with all your fuck ups.

But I do really cool shit. I’m proud of me. I’m proud of my relationships with people. I’m proud of the things I build with my hands. One thing that starting over in a new house and a new community has given me is increased competence that indeed I am the reason that so many things in my life are so rad. I build them. I am the common denominator.

I woke up to an alarm this morning. It’s not as traumatizing as it sounds because my alarm plays Juice by Lizzo so it’s a fairly fun way to wake up. I was trying to get ready for Gaelic group but the youngest child decided she was going to pitch a massive fit and refuse to eat because breakfast includes some vegetables. So we didn’t make it out the door in time.

Of course then I find out the group isn’t happening today anyway because it is a bank holiday for Easter Monday. Well then.

Noah’s alarm went off far earlier than mine did today because he had a flight to catch back to London. This time he is going no further so it isn’t as stressful as the previous trip. His work team has flown in from many countries so they can all meet in person for the first time. I hope he manages to have some fun in the process. We are going to have a festive week without him. (Sarcasm intended.)

We had an open house yesterday for the home education group. I would say it went shockingly well.

I can’t tell how much this malaise is hormonal, other physical stuff, or emotional stuff but I’d like to climb in bed for a few weeks and not come out. I have a lot of demands right now and all of them feel draining and exhausting rather than restorative. Even the stuff I am doing because it is supposedly restorative.

I feel sad, ineffective, helpless, and unworthy. I am tired of feeling taken for granted and used. I have nothing to give and that means I should not be around people at all because I need support and I don’t deserve support. I think I could curl up in a ball on the floor of my bedroom today and not move until I have to use the toilet again.

It’s the kind of day where “I can feel the clot coming” so the toilet is a very necessary part of the day.

I feel empty. I feel like I can’t do anything right so why bother trying. I feel like I just want to hide. I feel like I would like to die because that is the only way out of this avalanche of feeling shitty. I hate fucking everyone. I feel angry and overwhelmed with rage and contempt.

I don’t want to kill myself. But I’m not sure I would move out of the way of an oncoming train. I haven’t felt this low in a while. It’s a bunch of stupid things.

I need to talk to myself about this. I am the last therapist I get to have. It’s time to think about some of these priorities. I have a whole lot of stuff I want to do in this life. I’m looking at my list of projects coming up and I feel overwhelmed and terrified about how I am going to get it done.

Through a fucking super human level of focus and scheduling. I have a variety of projects that I choose to have in my life. They are all important to me. Things like home educating my kids, growing a food forest, being part of the cycling community, helping people have access to green spaces in the city as developments are built, helping Highland Pride have a space for people who get very overwhelmed in loud and crowded spaces, helping my friend set up a teaching tour, spending time with friends who are coming to see me from very far away, finding ways to strengthen ties with people I won’t see soon but I will see someday, and cycling as far away from my house as I can as often as I can.

Yo, I gotta be fit for all that shit. You can’t make a rusted out jalopy race. You have to take care of every part of the engine from all the individual bolts to the brackets to the really important technical parts I can’t think of right now. Just stay with me here.

I am feeling really low on hope. It is hard to believe that the efforts I’m putting out are going to lead to meaningful relationships in the long run. I am braced for rejection every time I go anywhere. I expect it long before it happens and the more time I spend around people the higher the chances are that it will come from someone I’ve put a noticeable amount of effort into getting to know. I’m scared.

Reading long-term medical studies about mortality outcomes for autistic people is enough to make me burst into tears.

I will never make everyone happy and the harder I try the greater the likelihood that I will harm myself. I don’t go looking for enemies but people really dislike it when you say things they want you to shut up about. People really hate it when you describe the crappy things they do.

I am scared. I have to go