Worth Is Not Yours To Measure

Over the last several days I have been digesting, dissecting, churning, meditating, and pondering over a statement made to me. I was attempting to talk to a partner of a very dear friend of mine. I was bringing the subject up of mental illness in poly relationships. Really it's any type of relationship. His response was that "No one should be in a relationship if they are not right." My immediate mental response was 'What the fuck?' I didn't say or respond because I was unsure why the statement bothered me so much.

I took it home with me and thought about it . . . and thought about it . . . and thought about it.

The it came to me. Mental illness is chronic. It doesn't get cured and it doesn't go away. Even if a person is medicated and it is "under control" it is still there. I suffer from mental illness and I have learned and developed tools to function, but it is still there. It has always been there and it will always be there.

So the statement eats at me because he, and a great many other people, feel that people like me should not have relationships? I should be alone for ever because I have to count my peas before I eat them?

Why do people keep feeling the need to take things from each other?

You are not worthy because you are not straight.
You are not worthy because you are nonmongomous.
You are not worthy because you have mental illness.

I am worthy. I am worthy of the very human need to connect, to feel, to love and be loved. We are all worthy of these things.

The Deep End

I sat down to begin some complicated childish post of unwanted negativity, emotional strain, and general "I can't deal with this." Instead I'm going to discuss other things that are chomping on my mind. I have debating coming out with the newest complication of my mental disorders. Some loved ones encouraged me to share as I am open with my thoughts, feelings, and protocols at all times. Other of my loved ones advised me to not share the findings for fear of the stigmatic backlash I may endure.

I debated. I segued. I word vomited. I may have hidden my emotional state by attempting to help a friend and then imploding her world. Sometimes I need to shut my mouth and word my concerns more gingerly. So in pissing a groom off for making his bride upset because I had an emotional response to sending a loved one into a panic attack all in all it was a messed up weekend. I'm not saying it was all bad. I was awkward a boy I liked, suave at a girl I liked, and participated in a social group where only new a small number of the participants and functioned accordingly. I'm tired and emotionally charged and I don't do well at comforting and even worse at concealing my own woes.

Anyway:

Last week I got tested for Autism. I was diagnosed as a High Functioning Autistic Adult. This means that  I am not bipolar and I do not have obsessive compulsive disorder. This also means that the fact that I do not posses the full range of emotions, am awkward in social situations, take most things literally, and have a plethora of rituals makes sense.

The thing I find most distressing; however, is that while I have had since 2001 to get used my previous diagnoses I now have something new to contend with. My paradigm has seriously been thrown off kilter.

What am I to do with this information?

Will this alienate me further?

Truth is, after today going outside seems that much more terrifying. How am I supposed to function? Are my warning labels valid? Am I valid?

Even though this fully explains my social epic fails. It explains the pain I cause my friends when I am trying to be helpful. It doesn't make it right. I can't fix it. I can't control it. I can't make it better.

Sorry it turned into a "woe is me" post anyway. My sincerest apologies.