Dying on the Vine

Here I am in Nicholasville, Kentucky, getting cabin fever in my snowed-in ground floor apartment. I am getting antsy, wanting to go out. People tend to think this is nuts, since they have to work. But for me, being shut up inside my house is an every day thing. I have an embarrassment of homebody time, and I would like to work, to help people, to contribute to the world.

It’s not like I can’t work or won’t work, for starters. I’m certified to be a Peer Specialist. I mean, I can relate to those of us with autism, depression and PTSD in ways that nobody outside this spectrum of interests can. There is so much I can give to the world. I came into this line of certification so I could get a job-and it’s frustrating to me that I am still on Disability due to my lack of certain skills, or the fact that I can’t drive. If I were in California, I bet I could get around just fine on the buses and rails. This is my trouble-I can’t drive, so I can’t work. Can you say frustration? I bet I would appreciate home and days off more, if I had work to balance all these days off to appreciate. There is only so much I can do in my skill set, but nobody wants to use them. Why do the people in the psychological professions not want to count my experiences? Don’t we, as the people who are actually experiencing these continued illnesses, have something to contribute?

There is so much I try to put in my viewpoint, but it keeps being ignored. My blog keeps growing and growing, but I am throwing my words out into a void which does not answer back. Have I chased all of my readers away due to my preferences? Do I have to be “16 and Pregnant” to get a readership? I give up. This blog seems more like a personal diary to me that secrets go into. But if you do not want to be read, why are you posting online? That’s the thing. I want to be read. I want somebody to acknowledge my existence, because it seems futile at times, like I am not contributing to anything. I certainly won’t kill myself for being ignored, but I will not be ignored any longer. I wish I had more value in this world.


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Autistic woman in her 40s, bringing attention to issues that affect her and her kind.

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