I woke up this morning, and I cried
I said today, to my partner and his mother, that I would go and help work on maintenance projects at the theatre, in preparation for a street fair this weekend. Well, I said that last weekend, and yesterday, but today is the day I was supposed to go. That was several hours ago. They went without me.
And I tried. I tried so hard. I did fun things on my weekend before, and I went home after work on Monday and rested. I did all of my hours at work this week at my part-time desk job, and I’ve remembered to eat and take my medicine. But every evening this week I have ended up exhausted and unable to fall asleep.
The medicine helps with the premenstrual dysphoric disorder. I’m no longer experiencing half a month of violent mood swings, depression so bad I can’t leave my bed, dizziness, spaciness so extreme I’m not safe to drive. But I still have the exhaustion, and the headaches, and the aches and pains, not to mention the hot flashes and the wild fluctuations in appetite, and everything that still comes along with the period itself.
If these were the only issues, I would consider myself fairly lucky. But they’re not. There’s the autism, which is accommodated at work, and at home, but is still disabling. I never really know how much energy I’m going to have, how many spoons its going to take to go to work and sit at my desk and engage in unexpected and requisite small talk. The ADHD is still there too, with the difficulty initiating tasks, and my tendency to bite off more than I can chew, and problems regulating my attention and directing it where it needs to go.
In combination, all of these things have left me so exhausted that I can’t get in the car and be driven to go paint walls. Talk about feeling pathetic.
It’s genuinely distressing. I want so badly to be reliable. To be someone who can keep their word, who can offer help without having to add caveats and disclaimers. But how can I be, when sometimes I wake up in the morning, hating myself because no matter what decision I make, I'm miserable?
My partner and his mother were understanding. They told me to stay home, if I needed to. My partner was even kind enough to make the decision for me, and told me it was fine, and to have a good time today in bed, and kissed me before he left. There’s no grudge, no ire, no irritation. They’re not even disappointed, really. There will be lots of hands to help, and I’ll rest and be able to help with the street fair this weekend.
But it all makes me feel so helpless, and so frustrated. I cry and I rage, and I’m so distressed at how my future is going to play out like this, as someone who can’t even work a full-time job. Like, really, how am I supposed to feel capable when it’s a huge success that I was able to shower and eat and brush my teeth and take my meds, and that I’m now so tired I’m laying in bed, propped up with pillow to see my computer screen because I can’t sit up?
It’s not my fault. And I know that. I know that I’m trying my hardest, and I know that I care. But so often it feels like I don’t try hard enough, and that I don’t care enough.