I have all the reasons in the world to hate myself.

I’m riding in a car. My wife is driving. There are many posts I’m working on. Some are timely; many were timely some time ago. Should I still post them? Probably. My life is out of sequence anyway.

I don’t want the journal to be negative. But, the autistic experience is largely that way, and people need to understand that. We don’t want to complain. We’d just like to fit in, and it hurts when we don’t. Or, we want to be left alone, and it hurts when we aren’t allowed to do that.

Come, join us! Now, stay away! That feels like my life.

There is a special day ahead, but it’s now going to represent years of being hurt by others. What was a day I’ve looked forward to for decades is now one I’m trying, but failing, to ignore. How long will it bother me into the future, once it has past? I really hope not long at all. I’m trying to figure out a clever way around it, a new and better way.

Just like last year, I feel like I’m on a collision course, and I can’t seem to avoid it. This one is more internal, but other people still affect it. Worst of all, like in the past, nobody takes me seriously. It’s insane how much I can ask for help and not be given it. Maybe this time things will be different. Yeah. I think my wife is finally understanding, but somehow that feels like it’s working in reverse. I am not certain either way.

I am not certain of anything, and so it’s easier to hate myself than everyone else. I’ll assume I don’t deserve what “normal” people seem to acquire without much effort or worry. They don’t want me. That much is clear. I faked believing people liked me as long as I could. Then, I got “schooled,” not just by a few but by many. But, it’s still all my fault. Always. Since the day I was born, and I’d sure like to forget about that day.

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