Dear Ms. Campbell,

Take a look at a tweet I just did to demonstrate a new way to describe my late diagnosis and lack of integration:
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I just thought of an insightful way to describe my daily life that seemed to be very revealing.. So, rather than scuttling it because it might be too negative.. I’m going to be brave.. I’ll share it here…

… for everyone to see.

If I had to describe my life right now, and how it feels on a daily basis, I would have to say it feels like a waking nightmare…

I feel like I’m on a roller coaster that can go fast, as most thrill-seeking roller coasters can, but it’s going terribly slow instead. Each day, I am seeing the heights, the corkscrews, half hanging upside down, the steep rises, and the dreadful dips, all while still moving slowly along. Painfully slow..

This is a description of what my late-diagnosed autistic life feels like. Right now. With no social or economic integration.

If something disruptive, such as if my parent’s health were to fail, a car accident, or my care provider would completely cut me off from my mental healthcare (because of the accommodations I’ve requested), this roller coaster speed will go from 2 MPH to full speed instantly.

The question is will I be able to still hold on, after being worn down each day by the lack of getting anywhere for so long, after agonizing days like today…

… or will I utterly and completely collapse?

To tell you the truth.. I don’t have an answer for that. I really wish I did. But this is the reality of having my autism diagnosed so late in my life, after the lack of accommodations destroyed my social and particularly my economic integration progress.

Despite being raised from a middle class family, whose hardworking privilege and opportunity didn’t help me at all. At all. So, here I am, at age 42, having to expend a truly enormous amount of effort, each day, just to keep from losing my mind and going into the woods to find a tree..

Will an abrupt disruption in my life tip this precarious balancing act that I am forced to maintain?

Or, will the daily grind of being left behind and unaccommodated do it first instead…?

This is what it is like for some of us. For some of us, we already are suicide survivors. Some of us have undiagnosed PTSD. Imagine the whole other layer these stresses places upon our worn down mental health.