I hid my autism for years, and I think it broke me..

Where to begin... I guess when I got diagnosed with autism at 7yo. Too mild to not go to school, but too odd to not get diagnosed at age 7... The bullies certainly noticed, though.

High School? Lots of stress, lots of more bullying, and eventually going to special ed for the final 3 years. Honestly, though, Special Ed was great. I think it's been the one single moment in my life where it was okay to have autism and okay to be weird. But there was no special University, though. And I'm too intelligent to not go to university, right? ..right.?? And being a late bloomer for pretty much everything means there was a lot of catching up to do... Oh, so much...

New city, new university, not wanting any labels. Fast forward to me not telling anyone about the autism, yet trying to find housing, student association, and so much more. Throw an internship into the mix, and suddenly you're totaling about... 300 People you were not telling about your autism? Or, better said, 300 people to bs about reasons why you're awkward weird.

It was starting to add up into this tower of lies. As I went to the bar every thursday night to party, there was always that dark moment when i stopped drinking alcohol at 3 a.m., like... do I belong here? Does anyone actually care whether I'm here or not? fck.

Next to that was the difficult internship burning me out. And when I was finally done, the next year I got into a new University group that did not quite like me. Oh, and because it was a third year, we had to make our own duos to submit assignments, which meant that basically no one wanted to work with me, and I had to beg for teammates. That's when people who didn't like me started slowly dialing their gears for bullying again...

I remember asking someone I teamed up with before whether he wanted to be my teammate for the one assignment. He said, "I'm not sure, I have to think about it". I repeated my question, he repeated his answer. People around us noticed..

And then the teacher told us to make duos. He stood up and asked someone opposite of class, hey, do you want to work with me?!

I'll never forget the the grin on his face, and subsequent laughing of people who were situated around me.

That's when something snapped, and I had my first panic attack. Right after, it's quickly developed into feeling like crying in every public place. Next up was feeling like having to use the bathroom in every public place when it wasn't possible. And suddenly, I went from world traveler to being unable to go to the supermarket...

What followed was lots of therapy, medication, exposure, being forced to go back to uni or else I would never graduate... and then at some point I graduated during covid. Got a job, lost of job, got a new job, got to burn out, and suddenly it's 10 years ago that you crashed, and the physical symptoms have never gone away.

I mean, I did get a gf, a house, a cat, but my social life is unexistent. It's been more coping to everything then anything else. It's like I'm being carried by life hacks, achieving everything I need to while sacrificing everything I want to. It ended up with me being the most understanding person ever who wants to help others so much, yet can't be helped himself.

At this point, I just don't know anymore. I live the result of all choices I've made out of wishes, motivation, dreams? I just know I'm not comfortable and feel so alone.

I mean, people love me, right? My mom, my girlfriend. But the amount of darkness and fears and frustrations.. If I accidentally let go to the front what is actually in the back of the mind, no one can handle it. Or maybe not understand it because it's been so long and so specific...

I got a burnout last year, and I'm about 60% of the way back. But I don't know if I can make 100% again. I don't know if it's healthy for me either. But I've got this very specific job for this very specific university degree. And honestly, the work itself isn't even a problem. I'm great at what I do. I'm just uncomfortable anxious mess on the insides or the outside pretty much most of the time. And no therapy works when you're actively surviving your day job. Trust me. I've tried and tried and tried...

I feel like the walls are closing in on me. I am now in the life that I set out more than a decade ago, but I'm not comfortable and alone. What is comfort, really? The best job I could get, is that what I should be? The few friends and girlfriend who care about me but will probably never understand what I went through and how dark it gets? Would anyone understand, anyway?

It's 3:00 a.m. over here, and usually as the weekend begins, I drink a bottle of wine. But this time I am not drinking any wine.

This time is more serious, more existential.

I am lost.