A Good & Bad Day

Today I had a good day.  Today I had a bad day.  The good part of the day is chronicled first.  The bad part of the day is chronicled second.

I have always had issues with germs.
I have struggled with severe OCD since I was a kid and I've been taking Prozac for it since I was either 9 or 11 (can't remember).
Anyways, over the years, I've gotten better at touching things, but I still feel most comfortable when most everything is clean.  I struggled living with roommates for this very reason and I waited years to try living with others because I was afraid of how I would react to other people touching things and not cleaning them the way I would.
Today, my roommates and I had a cleaning party.  We ordered pizza and cleaned the apartment.  Today, I cleaned the living room surfaces, oven, kitchen countertops, microwave, bathroom floor, bathroom sink, bathroom counter, and toilet.  Today, I scrubbed and scrubbed and now I'm feeling a lot better about those areas.  I'm also glad that my three other roommates pitched in and now our floors are clean, our dishes are all done, and the whole place is vacuumed.  I don't really know what else has been done, but I know things have been done and that makes me feel good.

Also today, a good friend has been complaining a lot.  I hate complainers.  I really do.  I really struggle to deal with my own mental health when others around me -- others who geuninely are a lot better off than me -- are complaining and complaining and complaining and complaining for no apparent reason.  I know that anxiety is personal but when you take every little thing and choose to fixate on something just to get sympathy -- which is what I believe is going on here -- I get really upset.  Maybe I'm not seeing the whole picture.  Maybe I'm not understanding.  Maybe there is more going on here than superficial anxiety about a school situation.  But it looks like she is using the excuse of "anxiety" to get out of a mistake she made in school that might get her into some trouble.  As a person who has been struggling for years and who has been to doctor after doctor for treatment of my anxiety, I really don't like it when people take my diagnosis and throw it around like it's something so mundane.  Anxiety is crippling.  Anxiety is not something to justify constant complaining.  

Loneliness

There is this perception that Autistics like to be alone.  Perhaps it is because we so often create our own worlds that we feel most comfortable in.  Perhaps it is because we enjoy our solitude.  Perhaps it is because loud noises and large groups of people make us uncomfortable.  All those things are reasons I like my "alone time," but it is also very true that I need my "social time" as well.

I like people.  Sometimes.  Sometimes I don't.  I guess it is more accurate to say that I like certain people.  My best friends, I like them.  I like many of the people I have classes with.  Some of my classmates I don't like so much.  I like many of my boyfriend's family members, his roommates, his church community.  I like the role models I've sought out for myself.  I like some of the people I work with.

While it is true that after a particularly stressful day, I'd love to just go home and sit by myself and do nothing at all, I didn't have a stressful day today and now I need some social interaction.  Today, I went to work, sat at my desk, and watched the clock.  Today, I wanted to leave all day because I was tired and bored.  But when 4.00 came around, my coworker asked if I was leaving and I had to think about it -- because I used to live near my boyfriend, but now I live an hour away.  I just moved yesterday and that was incredibly stressful.  And now I don't want to be here.  I don't want to be by myself.  I am incredibly lonely, sitting in this huge apartment all by myself.  I wish there were other people around to talk to, but instead I've got nothing but the whir of my fan to keep me company.  I know my boyfriend would rather I stop calling him in tears saying I miss him, and I know my mother-in-law would rather I stop texting her and lamenting about how alone and depressed I feel.  I know this.  And yet, this is the place I am in today.

I am incredibly anxious about the lack of cleanliness of my new apartment, but I cannot bring myself to clean today.  No, today I can merely sit and think and wonder and fear.  Today, I miss my boyfriend too much.  Today, I cannot bring myself to do anything productive.

Today, I have eaten a muffin and some macaroni.  Today, I have drank a 591 mL bottle of Diet Coke.  I am essentially too depressed to eat or drink.

I cleaned one fridge last night at 3 AM and the other is half-cleaned now.  I have to do my dishes and clean the bathroom, as well as clean my entire bedroom top to bottom before I can start to unpack.  Yesterday, I cleaned the walls and a few surfaces before I made my bed.  Today, my bed is clean but that's about it.  I need to sterilize my desk, closet, drawers, and then I need to unpack.

I'm watching this documentary only because I want to watch something at least sort of educational and the sound from the proper television is too loud for my ears to handle right now.  I am having a really hard time dealing with all the new sensory experiences in this apartment; the sound of the upstairs neighbor walking around, the smells coming from the different parts of the living room and kitchen, the burnt out light bulb in the bathroom, and the itchy fabric on the couches.

I hope this gets easier.

I feel "bottom of my soul lonely" today.