The last few days have all blurred together is a haze of plans and activities and I can feel myself declining. In fact, today -when I really needed to do some housework ahead of the in-laws visiting- is a sick day.
I went to bed early last night with a pretty bad headache and I woke up in the middle of the night to vomit. Since then I’ve been in bed, too afraid to eat or move or do much of anything, despite yesterday’s list of plans for the day. I have a pile of laundry staring at me, begging to be done, and a pile of dishes making similar demands. But alas, it’s all tomorrow’s problem now. Sick Saoirse is reading, writing, watching and computering for the day.
A detached account of the Pillow Queens gig
Since I last wrote I’ve been to see the Pillow Queens gig and had a pretty internal experience that night. I tried to be present and enjoy myself but I couldn’t get out of my head. Basically in a mental retreat, I was so far removed from everyone and everything.
I started to wonder if I’m missing some key ingredient that makes up the human experience. Watching all the other concert-goers singing, dancing and just merrily existing, I couldn’t understand them. I couldn’t understand what it was about the experience that was uniting them all, making them all so free. My night, although identical to theirs, was so different and I just couldn’t figure out why.
It was a pretty rough evening of condemning myself in my own head. My internal monologue rang loudly throughout my brain, drowning out the performances of the really talented Irish band. I went home so emotionally defeated and feeling absolutely broken. The entire next day I stayed in bed, not quite able for much of anything – but then yesterday was a real turning point.
Am I on the spectrum?
At my request, my wonderful cousin (and one of my favourite people in the world) sent me a lot of information on how Autism presents itself in girls.
This was something I was investigating at the behest of a counsellor I spoke to recently during a consultation. She said that, from listening to me talk, it sounded like there might be some sort of neurodivergence in me, whether that be OCD, ADD or falling somewhere on the spectrum. I promised to investigate, although I was pretty confident that none of it would ring familiar to me.
I’m familiar with OCD and Autism through friends and family members and I just wasn’t expecting anything to click. But then I perused all the resources my cousin sent me and I finally feel like we might be on to something here. As I listened to more and more experiences of girls on the spectrum, more and more I felt like maybe this could be me.
Perhaps it’s wishful thinking. Maybe I’m just looking for another label to hide behind when actually I’m just A Depressed Person. It’s possible, because lord knows I’d love to be able to explain away the disconnectedness I’m feeling with another diagnosis. But it doesn’t feel like wishful thinking. It feels like slipping into an item of clothing that fits me in a way nothing else has previously.
A possible new future
I’m not a doctor and nothing is confirmed, but I’m going to study this possibility and see if it’s worth making plans to get assessed. If Autism really is the missing piece of the puzzle, I’m excited to start understanding it and myself better.
