About 20 years ago before I knew about ASD, I went through a rather significant breakdown. At the time, I didn't really have any idea clear idea as to why it was happening to me. I was afraid that I might have been going insane. Although I'd always known that I was somehow different from everyone around me, I didn't know why. So I began writing "a lot", and taking inventory of the ways that I was different from everyone else my age. Looking back I can see that this had the unfortunate oversight of me comparing myself to NT's, which at the time, I thought that I was. As a result, I've put myself through much more hell than needed over the last 20 years.
In hindsight, this is how the period of, and leading up to my breakdown played out. But I need to fill in some details beforehand.
(Point #1) Throughout my memory of childhood, I've always tended to live in my head, or preferably, go off by myself and pursue my own interests. As I got older, I would pursue my interest in areas of the house that I'd claimed to isolate myself. In fact, I've done this in every house that I've lived in for any length of time. (I'm grateful that my parents were alright with this.)
(Point #2) I took electronics in high school, and co-op'd at xxxxx service center. My parents knew the manager there, and helped get me the job. I was there for 5 years, and had several friends that I had mutual interests with. To some degree, the job acted as a glue, a common interest, that helped hold our friendships together. Aside from the companies lack of interest in employing me full time, I was rather comfortable there. When I was 21, they laid me off for several weeks just before Christmas. Then again they did it a year later when I was 22. At the time my uncle had been working at zzzzzzzzzz, and recommended that I consider working there, which I did.
(Point #3) My beloved interest for the past few years had been my 1972 C-10 Chevy pickup. If you'd have driven it, you'd know what I mean.
(Point #4 - The Fall ) For the first few months at the new job, I'd been too busy to really notice what was going on. I think that I attributed it to anxiety with the new job. Now I think that I was getting in over my head on multiple levels. Dealing with customers has always been uncomfortable for me, but I'd learned how to deal with them for a few moments at a time at xxxxx. In the new job I was often in the customers home for an hour or two at a time. The job was not as fulfilling for me as working with electronics. Although I got along with the people there, we rarely saw each other, but there wasn't much that I had in the way of common interests with them. As time went on, the clouds gathered over head, I could feel them. I remember telling one of the guys there that I had no emotional outlet. He had no reply. (What was I thinking?) It was a call for help I guess. This ultimately culminated with me quiting the job. I was so so far at the end of my rope, that it took all of my energy and effort just to do one service call, when 4 to 5 are typical. My thinking was not clear. I seemed to have developed such a hypersensitive temperament, that it felt like the emotions of others bore straight through to the core of my soul, even if they were not directed at me. I could hardly bear to be in the same house with people arguing. When I spoke with the supervisor about quitting, he mentioned something to the effect that I should get some professional help.
(Point #5) I was at that time living on the second floor of my fathers house. Due to parking difficulties on the street of my fathers house, I had to find somewhere to put my truck. I ultimately let my brother use it.
(Point #6) After I had been on the new job for a few months, my father sold his house, and I had to move into the spare bedroom at my grandparents house. I left many boxes of my belonging behind, because I didn't really have a place to put it all. In the new living situation, I didn't have room for a workbench, or means to pursue my electronics interests. The worst part of it was the family, "what's wrong?","Are you all right?"...Me,"No I'm half left." I had no idea about what was going on. I felt as if my world was falling apart, and I was loosing my mind. I felt very bad energy in that house that overwhelmed me, and I tried to only go there when I had to.
Due to not being able to have quality isolation time (Point #1 & 6), and being separated from my interests (Points 2,3, & 6), as well as having a job with a higher level of stress, and a much less fulfilling social life (Point #4), led me to consciously act out in desperation. I truly did not understand what was happening to me, which led me into a rather profoundly deep period if introspection, studying, and writing.
After quiting the job at zzzzzzzzzz, I moved into and apartment, and found the perfectly laid-back job at the airport. It was the night shift through the weekends, with 10 hour shifts. Many nights went by where we didn't get a single plane in. So I spent my time, reading, and writing about the nature of the breakdown, relationships, and of ways to make things more manageable. I ate rather little during that time. I slept about 10 hours a day. The isolation that the job and living situation provided, as well as the work I'd put into clarifying my thoughts, slowly allowed me to recharge, and consider moving forward with my life. I worked at the airport for about 9 months, then decided that it was time to attempt to put my life back together.
My question to you, dear readers... Does the paragraph below sound like it was written by someone with ASD given the above situation? Or might it be somthing else? This is from my writings, at the beginning of grappling with what I was dealing with.
" Over the past several months my empathic sensitivity has been increasing, and making me very sensitive to the world around me. I always been empathic, but recently it's been getting to the point that it can become more than I can handle at times, to deal with all of these strong feelings, which build up inside until I feel as if my soul will be torn apart. I have no outlet for these emotions, so they keep building up and causing me great distress."
In hindsight, this is how the period of, and leading up to my breakdown played out. But I need to fill in some details beforehand.
(Point #1) Throughout my memory of childhood, I've always tended to live in my head, or preferably, go off by myself and pursue my own interests. As I got older, I would pursue my interest in areas of the house that I'd claimed to isolate myself. In fact, I've done this in every house that I've lived in for any length of time. (I'm grateful that my parents were alright with this.)
(Point #2) I took electronics in high school, and co-op'd at xxxxx service center. My parents knew the manager there, and helped get me the job. I was there for 5 years, and had several friends that I had mutual interests with. To some degree, the job acted as a glue, a common interest, that helped hold our friendships together. Aside from the companies lack of interest in employing me full time, I was rather comfortable there. When I was 21, they laid me off for several weeks just before Christmas. Then again they did it a year later when I was 22. At the time my uncle had been working at zzzzzzzzzz, and recommended that I consider working there, which I did.
(Point #3) My beloved interest for the past few years had been my 1972 C-10 Chevy pickup. If you'd have driven it, you'd know what I mean.
(Point #4 - The Fall ) For the first few months at the new job, I'd been too busy to really notice what was going on. I think that I attributed it to anxiety with the new job. Now I think that I was getting in over my head on multiple levels. Dealing with customers has always been uncomfortable for me, but I'd learned how to deal with them for a few moments at a time at xxxxx. In the new job I was often in the customers home for an hour or two at a time. The job was not as fulfilling for me as working with electronics. Although I got along with the people there, we rarely saw each other, but there wasn't much that I had in the way of common interests with them. As time went on, the clouds gathered over head, I could feel them. I remember telling one of the guys there that I had no emotional outlet. He had no reply. (What was I thinking?) It was a call for help I guess. This ultimately culminated with me quiting the job. I was so so far at the end of my rope, that it took all of my energy and effort just to do one service call, when 4 to 5 are typical. My thinking was not clear. I seemed to have developed such a hypersensitive temperament, that it felt like the emotions of others bore straight through to the core of my soul, even if they were not directed at me. I could hardly bear to be in the same house with people arguing. When I spoke with the supervisor about quitting, he mentioned something to the effect that I should get some professional help.
(Point #5) I was at that time living on the second floor of my fathers house. Due to parking difficulties on the street of my fathers house, I had to find somewhere to put my truck. I ultimately let my brother use it.
(Point #6) After I had been on the new job for a few months, my father sold his house, and I had to move into the spare bedroom at my grandparents house. I left many boxes of my belonging behind, because I didn't really have a place to put it all. In the new living situation, I didn't have room for a workbench, or means to pursue my electronics interests. The worst part of it was the family, "what's wrong?","Are you all right?"...Me,"No I'm half left." I had no idea about what was going on. I felt as if my world was falling apart, and I was loosing my mind. I felt very bad energy in that house that overwhelmed me, and I tried to only go there when I had to.
Due to not being able to have quality isolation time (Point #1 & 6), and being separated from my interests (Points 2,3, & 6), as well as having a job with a higher level of stress, and a much less fulfilling social life (Point #4), led me to consciously act out in desperation. I truly did not understand what was happening to me, which led me into a rather profoundly deep period if introspection, studying, and writing.
After quiting the job at zzzzzzzzzz, I moved into and apartment, and found the perfectly laid-back job at the airport. It was the night shift through the weekends, with 10 hour shifts. Many nights went by where we didn't get a single plane in. So I spent my time, reading, and writing about the nature of the breakdown, relationships, and of ways to make things more manageable. I ate rather little during that time. I slept about 10 hours a day. The isolation that the job and living situation provided, as well as the work I'd put into clarifying my thoughts, slowly allowed me to recharge, and consider moving forward with my life. I worked at the airport for about 9 months, then decided that it was time to attempt to put my life back together.
My question to you, dear readers... Does the paragraph below sound like it was written by someone with ASD given the above situation? Or might it be somthing else? This is from my writings, at the beginning of grappling with what I was dealing with.
" Over the past several months my empathic sensitivity has been increasing, and making me very sensitive to the world around me. I always been empathic, but recently it's been getting to the point that it can become more than I can handle at times, to deal with all of these strong feelings, which build up inside until I feel as if my soul will be torn apart. I have no outlet for these emotions, so they keep building up and causing me great distress."
