Wednesday, June 5, 2013

No room. Too much.

Landon Bryc, author of the Ausome blog, ThAutcast, recently created this image:

"I'm sorry. I just don't have room for you in my head right now."

I wish I could say I understand what the Aut in this photo is saying, but...

I never really find myself saying this. It's always "too much, too much! Stop! Too much."

But... I'm never this eloquent about it.

I wish I could say "I just don't have room for you in my head right now..."

But... I don't always know when I don't have room for anyone in my head until it's too late.

  • I don't know when to say goodbye. I hate to say goodbye. I don't want the fun to end.

I ask friends to stay an extra night, I hang around without going home, and then suddenly I get tired and bitchy and cranky, but I don't want to go. I drain myself trying to be with the people I love. I just don't know when I just can't handle any more. I always end up running myself down.

I might be wearing my friends, or myself, out. But I don't know it. Even a day at the park, or a shopping expedition, might be too much. But I don't know it.

  • I just don't know when I just can't handle anymore.

  • I always end up running myself down.





Run-down robot. Whrrr...

    I run myself down.



  1. I am just now realizing that I am a spectrumite. I am in the early stages, not "official" yet. But when my son was diagnosed a few years ago, it turned my entire world on it's head. We now know that my father is on the spectrum, hence a great deal of family issues. My son is definitely official--best kid I have ever known. And somehow, in thirty years, I missed my own check boxes, nuances, and struggles.

    And this--this blog--and this entry specifically. This is me. Entirely. Previously I have wondered if I was bipolar. Because I go on these social "highs;" moments with friends and family where I am at optimal functioning, when I feel good and energetic and fresh. Sometimes I keep them longer than I should. And then I bomb out. Like I go home and sleep for days. I had wondered if it was a mild form of bipolar until recently and now i know what it is--it is social exhaustion. I am a natural extrovert; I love people. But being around people is also sort of my kryptonite. It is a game of chess, a thousand piece puzzle, an intense game of poker. When it is all over, I am emotionally and physically drained. "I have no room left in my head," for others.


    Thank you for this. In my journey, voices like yours are priceless, both for me and for my son.

    Thank you.

  2. I have always attributed this to my being a classic introvert (I must recharge alone, other people drain me,) who happens to also want to please people. Not being on the spectrum. Somehow, I'm sure, should I ever mention the possibility to anyone else? I'd get shot down.
    Never mind that without the ability to shut other people out of my head for lengthy periods of time I go off like a teapot.
    Intraversion, gregarity & insecurity seem to present similarly to this. My exhaustion doesn't really care what the source is though.