I’m just about halfway done with this semester, and I’m really starting to get run-down. For the longest time, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what was wrong. What was making me so tired every day? Why was I having to rely on increasing amounts of caffeine every day? Why didn’t home feel like the refuge it once was? Why did I only recover once I was fully alone, hiking in the foothills where my only company was the wildlife (and the occasional ranger that never failed to sneak up on me and scare the shit out of me)?
Well, I finally have an answer to all of that, thanks to my current therapist who specializes in young women on the autism spectrum. “You’re burning out,” my therapist explained, “It’s normal to burn out, especially with all of the things you’re having to get used to… And the fact that you haven’t done much of any real self-care since the pandemic…”
At first, I wasn’t quite sure what she meant, especially when she accused me of not truly taking time off for myself. But, it eventually hit me. When was the last time I’ve been hunting? Or dirtbike riding? Or to one of the family farms? Or horseback riding where I had the freedom to go where I want and as fast as I could ride? Or out in the wilderness for an extended period of time? When was the last time I was left entirely alone, surrounded by nature, and a handful of my favorite people? Hell, when was the last time I could listen to music and not be interrupted every hour by a text or a phone call? When was the last time I didn't have a trillion daily anxious thoughts about shit I shouldn't be worried about, and about shit I have absolutely zero control over?
When I finally realized what my therapist was getting at, my eyes welled up with tears. Truth is, I haven’t been able to relax or truly get away since even before covid began. In fact, I’ve been in a constant state of panic since I started Trikafta (I am so thankful for Trikafta, but it did make my anxiety much worse. Thankfully, there’s medication for that, and I'm gonna see if taking the morning dose (two orange pills) at night, and taking the night dose (one blue pill) in the morning will help diminish my anxiety). Covid, of course (along with my sudden, though temporary, move to Washington) made things even worse. Even the return to Colorado, and the fact that my mom had to sell the Gig Harbor house for financial reasons, have been incredibly stressful for me.
Things only calmed down a bit over the summer, allowing depression to creep in as my anxiety drifted away. So, I decided to finally tackle college. I was ready, right? Taking one class (even a five credit Astronomy course) would be fine, right? Well… It’s been a mixed bag.
While I’m pretty much halfway through the semester and am still holding a solid A, I am extremely exhausted. The material itself isn’t that bad. In fact, I’m finding that I’m much better at it than I thought I could ever be (especially since it is so physics-heavy). It’s the social side of college I’m struggling with, especially considering the fact that I was officially diagnosed with Autism (ASD) late last year. That ASD diagnosis, while incredibly helpful and enlightening in a lot of ways, also hit me like a goddamn anvil from left field, and I haven’t recovered from the shock. Hell, I haven’t even been able to recover from the shock of Trikafta.
The ASD diagnosis explains why I am becoming increasingly exhausted lately. Five-and-a-half hours in the classroom plus two hours of driving to-and-from campus per week (30 minute drive to campus from my house) is absolutely destroying me, but most people don’t know it. I am just too damn good at masking my ASD symptoms for even my own mom to notice.
Well… That is until I come home after a long day in class, and just crash. In fact, I’ve been crashing so hard that I have been sleeping through alarms, dogs barking, and even my mom raising her voice at me to get me to wake up (she's had to shake me awake lately). It’s actually a serious problem, and my grip on the class material is starting to slip. I’m not yet sure how to mitigate it. I’ve honestly been in denial about my ASD up until college began, and noticed just how draining it is for me to be in class with lots of other people I barely know. Now that I can’t ignore or deny the fact that I’m Autistic, I’m starting to really resent it.
There are peers in my class who are doing more than just that one course. In fact, I seem to be the only student there who is a freshman and only taking the one class. Yet, I am struggling. Not really with the material in class. But, with social and personal obligations I’m faced with on a weekly basis.
There must be a healthy balance; where I am able to meet my obligations without sacrificing my physical health. Even though this fatigue isn’t life-threatening (unless I fall asleep while driving), it is still miserable. There must be a solution to this growing problem.
I’m struggling more and more to do the things that I truly enjoy. My art supplies and projects have collected a layer of dust since college began. My adventures in the valley have been growing shorter and shorter, despite autumn being my favorite season. While I’m excited for my family members who hunt and fish, it stings whenever they send me pictures from their adventures. I'm becoming less and less able to focus or filter out the nonessential things in life, such as the sounds of my breathing or leaves blowing across the road in the wind. The more exhausted I get, the less able I am to recharge. It is a vicious cycle.
I find myself eavesdropping on my peers often, learning about just how busy yet energetic they are. Aside from taking college full-time, many people somehow still have the time and energy to go to parties, play video games for hours and hours, go to work, participate in team sports, and so much more. Yet, here I am, barely hanging on to my one class and exhausted beyond words. Resenting my ASD (and Cystic Fibrosis) more and more.
Why can’t I just be normal? Why am I so sensitive to everything around me, right down to the way my clothes feel on my body? Why do I still have to take a shitload of pills everyday, just so that my body doesn’t fail me as much? Why does it take so much out of me just to act “normal” around other “normal” people, lest I risk being bullied and outcasted? Why was I born this way, into a world like this?
I hope that with the help of my therapist, and the numerous books she’s recommending to me so I can better understand myself, I will find a viable solution soon. Again, there must be a way for me to still go to college, maintain a healthy social life, exercise regularly, and find time for my hobbies, all without being this damn tired and overwhelmed all the time.
I want so desperately to keep going to college. Obviously, I can do the work. I'm holding a solid A, despite the material being a lot heavier than I ever thought it would be. I'm not particularly interested in Astronomy, but I still like it enough to keep learning about it. I just have to figure out how to deal with the people without sacrificing all of my energy (or drinking six cans of caffeinated soda every day, and still crashing hard as soon as I slam the front door behind myself). That's the hardest thing to figure out. It's a problem I've had for my whole life and have never been able to solve.
In the past, long before I knew anything about possibly being on the spectrum (let alone actually being officially diagnosed), the way I dealt with people was to just "fake it till I made it". Or, more accurately, masked the best I could until I got so tired that my own immune system tanked, and I ended up sick at home for weeks at a time, sometimes even ending up hospitalized. Now, I don't think I'm at high risk of burning out so hard that I get a nasty lung infection and end up in the hospital. Trikafta seems to have solved that problem. But, I'm still just downright drained of all of my energy, and am reliant on anxiety-and-caffeine-induced-adrenaline to get through each day.
At least, now, I can name what is happening to me, instead of dismissing my exhaustion on a perpetual cold or being "broken" in some way. I now know that I'm Autistic, and as a result it takes a lot more effort than usual for me to survive in a "normal" environment. Because of this knowledge, I can finally start searching for real solutions to my problem. That's what is keeping me going (besides the caffeine and the anxiety); the hope that I won't be chronically exhausted forever.
While there is hope that I will be able to bounce back to my old self soon, I am still greatly overwhelmed. Not just with college, but with other obligations as well. For whatever reason, my extroverted family members (especially my mom and brother) can't seem to even comprehend the fact that I just don't do well in most social situations. So, of course, they expect me to be able to attend my brother's baseball games, go out to eat a couple times per week at busy restaurants, spend my weekends visiting with family and friends, pick up my brother and his friends from school on the days I don't have class, let in total strangers to fix the things that keep on breaking in the house (most recently, our kitchen faucet decided it had enough and started spraying water everywhere), and so much more.
Again, it's not just college that's wearing me down, though it is my main problem. But just regular day-to-day things. I know I'm good at hiding my exhaustion. I'm not much of a complainer (usually). I have a tendency to ignore my needs and pains for the sake of other people and things that must be done. I feel mighty blessed to live where and how I do. Even though a lot of household responsibilities fall upon my shoulders, as my mom works about seventy hours per week, on average, so we can live comfortably and securely (I believe my mom suffers from some sort of PTSD after living in poverty for her whole life up until I turned ten years old or so, which is why she works so damn hard to make the money she does).
But, now that I'm literally unable to stay awake the second my day ends, and I'm unable to ever feel rested, and I'm breaking down crying nightly because of the stress. Something has to change. Or else, something will give way (which will probably be my grades, taking what little self-confidence I've gained this year down with them).
If it wasn't for Trikafta, I would be almost bed-bound right now, probably coughing up blood and unable to breathe through my nostrils, at best. However, thanks to that miracle medication, my physical health (at least, regarding my airways and digestive system) seems to be unaffected by all of this anxiety, stress, and exhaustion. Instead, I can feel other things failing, and am having to make a couple changes to my medicine routine and a few phone calls to doctors as a result.
No, I am not dying. Sometimes, I feel like I am, but that's quite normal for me. However, I do need to get checked out, because I'm still physically struggling. At least, I'm getting better at seeking help when I need it (even though it hurts like hell to admit that I'm disabled and am in need of help), but it still sucks.
It sucks to know that I'll never be "normal", no matter what I do or how well I act and look "normal". It sucks to know that I'll never be "healthy", in the sense that I'll ever be cured of CF. Honestly, all I want right now is to be like everyone else. By that, I mean I wish it didn't take so much out of me just to do one fucking college class, while my peers seem to be breezing through multiple college classes, and are still able to work or finish high school with a fucking 4.0 GPA, and maintain an active social life, and more.
It pisses me off when a lab partner bitches about the fact that she didn't get to be valedictorian, because her arch nemesis got two more points on a math test than she did. It makes me feel worthless when I learn about all of the amazing things my peers are up to outside of class, such as working at a nursing home part-time, or expecting their second child, or are living with their grandparents to keep them company and help them out when needed. I worry I'll never discover what I am both good at and I can do without burning out, especially when I'm surrounded by people who have their hearts set on becoming NASA engineers, or physicists, or medical doctors, or teachers. It makes me physically sick whenever I try to read about people who have found a way to live successful, fulfilling lives despite their disabilities/conditions, and instead come across statistics that show upwards of 90% of Autistics are unemployed and living in a shithole on disability, or people with Cystic Fibrosis my age are still requiring lung transplants dying young despite advances in medical science.
Logically, I know I shouldn't be comparing myself to other people. I know it's not right to be jealous of my peers for not suffering quite like I have. I know that I am not defined by statistics I find online. I know there is zero pressure for me to be doing anything right now, and my parents are constantly reassuring me that I am always welcome under their roofs, and I will figure out what I am good at and what I can turn into a career. Obviously, I am smart enough to go to college, and I just have to find ways to cope with the social and sensory struggles (which there are many of). But, logic and knowledge don't seem to trump my anxiety even slightly. It never does.
So, what should I do? I don't have a damn clue. I've found the best damn therapist I could find. I'm taking my medications and modifying them (with the help and permission from my doctors, of course) to lessen my anxiety and keep my Cystic Fibrosis hogtied. I'm eating healthy foods and spending at least an hour each day outside, no matter the weather. I'm keeping myself and my surroundings clean and organized the best I can, despite my lack of energy. I'm getting well over eight hours of sleep per night (and day). I'm doing my best to find what joy and peace I can, even if it's just a few hours' worth per week. I'm still asking God for help and guidance regularly, even though I'm going through yet another major faith crisis.
Overall, I'm giving life the best I've got, and yet I find myself fearing the future and losing more and more hope and confidence each and every day. Between Trikafta and the boredom of quarantine, I thought it was finally safe for me to dream. So, I outlined my next big goal (going to college and getting my associate's degree), put a lot of thought into where I'd like to live, and how I'd like to go about making a living.
So far, I've decided that I'd like to live a rather solitary life in a very small house or cabin in the wilderness, working from home doing a job that doesn't require a lot of social interaction, or won't kill me like farming easily could. But, the work-from-home jobs I'm thinking about (such as computer programming, engineering, zoology, biology, writing/publishing, whatever the hell park caretakers do) all pretty much require college. And, right now, college is just ruining me, despite the material and academics of college being heavy though easy for me to grasp and understand. Again, it's the social aspects of college I'm having severe trouble with. Not the material itself.
Despite the pages of negativity I've just dumped on everyone who dares read this long-winded rant of mine, there is some positivity. Some hope and faith I'm managing to hold onto.
Like I mentioned a handful of times before, I'm finding the material I'm learning in college (even in a five-credit Astronomy course), isn't actually hard for me to figure out and understand. Sure, it's quite tedious and my telescope (more specifically, the tripod my telescope came with) frustrates me to no end. But, in a surprisingly short amount of time, I am usually able to nail things down, even if my solutions, answers, questions, and thoughts baffle others (which they do often). But, that isn't a bad thing.
I've been told my ability to stump the professor with my questions, and figure out that climbing onto the roof of my truck, lying prone, and holding the telescope as I would hold a rifle to find the moon and stars easier and faster (instead of using that ridiculously finicky tripod), and think in pictures rather than words, and spend several hours of unbroken, zeroed-in study on the class's content at home, are all things professors look for in their students. Clearly, just based on my grades and the way the professors have been treating me, I am doing things very right (though, I'm not quite sure what specifically I am doing right, besides getting good grades and asking lots of tough questions my prof has to get the department chair to answer for me).
Yet, I am still suffering greatly. The people around me and the chaotic, crowded, noisy environment of college drain the literal life out of me, and I don't yet know how to cope with that or if there's a way to skirt around that. Perhaps, I'd survive college just fine if I had a real escape route I could take to get away from the world and recharge. I love my family. I feel so blessed to live where I do and how I do. But, I can't get away from people very easily, and I'm becoming exponentially more tired and more of a shell of who I was prior to college.
When I'm down in my bedroom, there's always a chance that my mom will barge in to ask me to do something or beg me to accompany her someplace, or my brother's friends will come over and run around upstairs above me (which I can hear through my headphones in my room). When I'm upstairs raiding the fridge, feeding the dogs, or am otherwise trying to relax, I am always expected to be able to hold a conversation with everyone else no matter what. When I leave my house to go somewhere or take the dogs for a walk, there's always a talkative neighbor who is outside practically waiting to ambush me with small-talk. When I take my dogs for a walk, everyone thinks they're oh-so-adorable and must be showered with pets and cuddles. Hell, when I go for a hike alone, a ranger always materializes out of thin air when I least expect it, to ensure that I'm not trespassing on the private hiking trails (you'd think they'd recognize me by now, but there's almost always a different ranger or warden patrolling the trails).
So, in short, I have no real place to go to truly get away from people, and I'm starting to go fucking crazy as a result!
How is this positive, you may ask? Well, worst case scenario, I burn out completely and drop out. But, my spirit won't be devastated, since I know what the problem is. The problems I'm faced with currently have absolutely nothing to do with my intelligence or ability to take care of myself. I can take care of myself perfectly fine (in fact, I flourish when left alone). Over the last several years or so, I have learned that I am not the fucking idiot I believed I was, and my performance in college further proves this.
What I'm dealing with is much more of a neurological issue than anything else, with a hefty spoonful of anxiety to go along with it (which I also suspect is more of a neurological issue than a psychological one). Thankfully, I've read that there are ways to treat this neurological issue that don't involve forcing me to suppress my autistic traits or do anything else harmful. A large part of dealing with this problem is further learning about how my brain works, why it works that way, what specifically is going on that is making being around others (mostly strangers) so exhausting for me, and treating that specific issue. Perhaps, all I need to do is attend smaller classes, take a few courses online (that are taught by professors who know what they're doing, of course), and take my therapist's advice and meditate in secluded locations (such as on the roof of my Xterra parked on an isolated road in the valley).
Also, it might be good for me to just tune out a lot of my peers, and not force myself to coddle the students with 4.0's bitching about petty shit I couldn't care less about. Ok, people might think I'm a bit of an asshole for being the silent, scowling student in the corner, who offers no advice and is generally unapproachable. But, that's okay. I don't plan on going into a career that requires me to have perfect etiquette, or keeping lots of friends around anyway.
A large part of that probably comes with being more assertive, and more confident. Indeed, I am definitely not a very confident person. I have a tendency to avoid conflict like covid and sacrifice my own mental and physical wellbeing for the sake of others. This isn't entirely a bad thing, but in some situations (like in a college class), it kind of is. I shouldn't be making myself sick to make other strangers more comfortable around me. Yet, right now, that's exactly what I am doing, and it's a habit I must break. I'm not yet sure how to do that, but I'm sure I'll figure that out soon enough.