Do you reach points of absolute despair?

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Been diagnosed three years, been on a downhill spiral for 17, a once happy alter ego part of myself if not dead is dying. In a partly self created though unintentional financial train wreck, dreams and goals lost, no creative outlet for years and now have lost the tools to express myself, even worse at risk of homelessness- where is the Right planet? Someone please beam me up...

What if the right planet sucks to?...at least that is usually my conclusion when I think about it.

I've seen the bottom & it looks bottomless. Only small steps, tiny incremental accomplishments, will get a person out.

Yes, I am at a point where life seems Ùtterly futile...

Vanhalenkurtz is right, more or less. The more you can visualize your accomplishments, the faster you can link them together. I've hit a lot of walls in my time, but surpassing your innermost ones can be more trouble than it's worth, especially because fewer people than you may imagine think you need to. The more you can remind yourself that it's OK to be scared, the easier it becomes to forgive your fears.

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[Moved from General Autism Discussion to The Haven]

Not really new but I've only visited once or twice. Reached a point where I feel I need to come in more often. My good fortune is I'm so high functioning I didn't get a diagnosis till 42. Other plus is I am mistaken often for late twenties or early thirties. Down side is being at rock bottom, loaded with self doubt, inabilities with decision making, being easy target for coercion, health issues- I look Younger but feel the years, and having been spoiled by a brief success that I cannot stop dreaming of return to or want anything other than to return to. Also worry for family and pets. I'm very lonely right now and scared. Filled
With self doubt. Thought initial the diagnosis may help me get back on track now I wonder would I have been better off notknowing and thinking I was just eccentric. Worst is now realizing part of me is almost 45, part of me will always be 16. Only creating music or writing about cinema, my music collection and cinema most do not understand bring
me comfort- and kitties. If I won a huge lottery tomorrow I'd live minimalist and bury myself in those worlds as soon as the mess was cleaned up and it would be safe to do so. All I ever wanted was a cot, a fridge, a toilet, some climate control, food and my little stack of junk that I adore - and time to create music and enjoy those things. It doesn't seem a lot but I'm losing all. That said I've made a final one dollar splurge on the Evil Dead remake from red box and intend to tune out one last time for ninety minutes at some point today. I have to work with my wife ontrying to get us to safety and wait for a moment to do this without disturbing her. These films cause her great discomfort and I can't comfortably enjoy them or speak about them around her anymore. She's okay that I rented it. I don't want to put that on her. She used to watch old creature features with her dad but my constant prattling about them killed her sentiment for the times she enjoyed them with her father before he passed. I never intended that harm. The old ones frustrate her now because I live in the subject-
The new ones can be so grotesque while I analyse the art of illusion they produce in her nightmares. I don't wish under her current worries to contribute more anxiety. I do care.

I'm kind of similar. Sorry to hear you're at a low point in your life.

Search me and friend me on fb as Docion Alucarda. I just for the first time expressed myself openly there about my ASD diagnosis and am looking for mutual support. Would love to hear from anyone. All good wishes and hoping things get better...

I've been here before quite a few times. However, all the time, I would bounce back; which is quite a testament to my resilience.

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Feel free to talk to me, if you wish.

Every day is a gift- cherish it!

"A true, true friend helps a friend in need."

Have I reach points of absolute despair?

Once.

It was about 3-1/2 years after the divorce. I came home on leave after 2 years of Military service.

First, my ex-wife informed me that my grandmother and uncle had died ... about a year before.

Second, I overheard my youngest child call his mother's husband "Dad".

Third, my own mother needed about a minute to recognize me.

Fourth, my father accused me of having gone AWOL.

Fifth, the woman that had once accused my brother of being the father of her child (DNA tests had proven her wrong), accused me instead.

Sixth, due to my other brother's illegal "dealings", there was a price on my head from a local drug gang.

Things went downhill from there. By the time I returned to my ship, I was ready to put in a transfer to an on-shore combat unit. I reasoned that since I had nothing left to live for, I may as well die in combat and earn a hero's funeral. Then I met the woman who was to become my current wife, and found inspiration to live.

Yup. Been there a few times.

Notably three times.

Once just after high school. Seemed I would never learn to cope and never have any friends I didn't have to buy. That was about a 2-year low. At the end of it, I had figured out who I was and what I would or would not tolerate. I found the man I would marry and the first of a handful of good friends.

Once just after college. Said man, listening to his paranoid parents, decided that I was going to cheat on him, I was not going to move with him, and I had stayed with him through 8 years of struggling through engineering school because I was only after his would-be paycheck. That set off about a 4-year low that I spent honestly believing I had to earn his (and his parents') trust and respect by anticipating his whims and kissing his ass.

Just a few years ago-- at the end of the last low, actually-- my dad died, my stepmom's sisters decided to run me off, my relatives basically said, "Nope, too much trouble" and turned their backs on me, my in-laws turned on me again, and the therapist(s) I tried to see for the resultant depression decided that having AS meant I probably deserved to be treated that way. That was about an 18-month low that ended in the suicide ward and 30 days of intensive outpatient therapy, followed by two years of (ongoing) regular therapy.

Now there are good days and bad days. The good days are pretty much regular, the bad days run in strings and deeply suck...

...and they're getting fewer and farther between.

So I'm glad I'm not dead.

Go ahead and feel despair. Roll in it, wallow in it, because right now despair is eating you up and life sucks. Denial is stupid.

But don't give up. Don't quit trying, and don't die.

You might not have seen the bottom yet.

But it has to be down there somewhere.

When you hit it, you can roll around and scream some more. Then you can find your feet and start climbing up.

When you've been laying on the bottom, "In a hole climbing out" feels pretty damn good.

Yes.

I'm there right now.

However, as usual, I soldier on.

I seem to have thick scar tissue.

That is not all good, BTW.

I fled the relationship August 22nd. Since then she liquidated my only transportation and hacked every conceivable thing from my Docion profile, to the Disney dashboard, to bank accounts and even Florida employee profiles. I am staying at a domestic violence shelter and trying to muddle through an ugly divorce. She is cunning, manipulative, calculating, facing felony fraud charges, and violent meticulously behind closed doors. My very life was in peril by the time I fled. I am sure she might read this, and might want to use it against me- but then if she wasn't controlling the docion account and even my original FB accounts I've had to rebuild she shouldn't even know about it. I may publish a book when this is over about the plight of aspergers folks in abusive relationships and the difficulties men find in trying to find help. It is not a slight against women. There are already entirely too few resources to help women in domestic abuse relationships. But for men in is harder still- and the statistics are high but more often unresolved the title will be "Sometimes Women DO Hit Men". I can't use her name, but might dedicate it to her as the source of inspiration.

Yes.