Second door on the left,
Blue House,
The Under, Oz

09/03/2021

Dearest,

It’s been so long, and so much has happened. I don’t even know where to start. My head is filled with so many grand plans I doubt I’ll ever see to fruition, but I’m trying. You know how I am.

Right now I feel as though the whole world is arranged against me in some great battle I don’t understand. I never could grasp the rules of chess; I would much rather be playing Cluedo. But that doesn’t seem to be how the world works. It’s just too confusing for me. Every time I think I’ve started working things out, the rules seem to change, and I’m right back to square one. (I know, I know, this is such a mixed metaphor, but they’re my absolute favourite. As you know.)

I don’t understand why so many people seem to hate me so much. Of course, if you ask them they say “Oh, not YOU. I don’t mean YOU.” But they’ve just spewed hate for people just like me. And you know how much people hate it when you ask them things like that directly. They absolutely deny it to your face, then turn around and talk rubbish about you behind your back. Well, not you, my darling. You are too beautiful and good and kind. But about people like me, well, we’re fair game. It’s easy to dehumanise people like me, I guess? Because I’m not a productive member of society right now. I’m trying so hard to fix that, but trying to navigate the mess of bureaucracy makes me just want to lay down and never get up.

Damnit, sorry. I lost my train of thought. So. Where was I?

I’m still in pain, and waiting to hear about my operation. I can’t really do a lot until then. Although the government have told me I need to get a job. I’ve been in pain too long. It’s unacceptable. It’s against the rules? Well, if there were more doctors, and more operations, and we hadn’t just been through a pandemic, I suppose I’d see their point. I mean, I don’t actually want to be in pain, and unable to think or move or or or… And I want to finish my degree and be a shining example of what an Autistic person can do and be. But instead I’m just still me, a huge disappointment and a burden on everyone. Gosh, that’s so inspiring isn’t it? Doesn’t it just make you want to stop being Autistic and become a productive member of society? (Of course, I know this isn’t a problem for you, my love, it’s just one of my fancies.)

I’m turning 44 soon. It feels like it should be a magical number, although I don’t know why. Wouldn’t it be nice if everything just sort of magically started working for me, and I stopped being in pain, and being so tired, and found the capacity to do all the things everyone expects me to do? Magical.

Instead, I still have no clue who I am. Remember when I was in High School and kept trying on all those different identities, like costumes, until I found one that felt comfortable? And even then I still never really fit. Well, I’ve been thinking maybe I need to do that again? I’ve been trying out all my childhood things again. I’ve started rereading all my favourites, and eating all the things I loved as a kid. I’m still struggling with games. I don’t know why I can’t play any more. Maybe it will come back? I mean, it’s not like I really even have time to play any more anyway. Being a stupid adult really doesn’t leave much time for anything except worrying. And occasionally writing letters to dear old friends.

Speaking of not having much time, I have my last exam tomorrow, and I’m really not prepared. I will try to write again soon.