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.
