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////////SNAP BOOM CRASH////////

IT'S been some time. Since I've been here, since I've spoken to you. I lost a lot, I gave up many a thing and person in my life to make it to where I am, kept some, too.

Since I last updated this journal, this journey I've been taking here on these pages, I've found and lost so many things. Friends lost, family found, support gained... Its too unbelievable a lot of the time.

In March I lost two good friends, or so I thought of them anyway.

One that avidly and directly caused a panic attack in which I felt so out of control, I carved the line into my left arm with my dab stick; a metal rod, straight down just past the crease of my elbow. It scarred darker than the rest of my skin.

The other, I can only summarized in words as such: he wanted me to perform a sketch on stage in front of hundreds of people, basically explaining my autism as a joke.

I lost those people in March. I gained a scar then, too.

A few months went by in the same fashion you may have seen previously, in the past ten or so entries: bitter, angry, depressed beyond my means, sad and alone. All of it at the same time.

Then, I came into work to find a co-worker of mine had quit. I asked my manager why she had left so abruptly, she told me, and I quote: "she said it was because of you."

I'd dissociated through the entire day. Zoned out, half asleep and not responding to anybody's vocal commands, I felt much like a robot who had malfunctioned and had no idea that he was malfunctioning.

it was pretty much about that point in my life where I knew that I needed to do something, it was at that point that I knew I needed to tie a brick to my leg and jump into the nearest river, less than a mile from my house.

I didn't do that.

I couldn't do that.

But I wanted to feel alone, cold, pressured. I wanted to feel like I was in a trash compactor being squeezed as tightly as possible, I wanted to feel the water rush into my lungs and burn with such ferocity and then suddenly make the climb to the top and feel revived.

But I knew I couldn't do that, not without the result being something I did not want.

Death.

Another month went by before I got time off, not necessarily by my choice.

"This is for you to get better, this is for you to get help"

Irony in its truest form seeing as those words came from the manager who caused me so much stress, so much worry.

I spent a week away, in a place an hour from my home. It was clean. Fat from calm, but organized and we'll staffed. Other people had better or worse experiences then I, but still came out with a positive outlook.

I can honestly and nonchalantly say that the worst thing that happened to me while I was there was that I got hit in the face by a man with a toilet paper boxing glove on my last day. Hilariously I say that now, but my anxiety, my panic attacks, they handled it different at the time.

After I got out, I started putting my hair into a pony tail, I started going out more. I stayed connected with people from within those walls, even when they went back, especially then.

I've lost touch with a few I wish I hadn't.

But I've maintained contact with one.

We went to Frankfort, Michigan. Saw a lighthouse. We watched a man drown that day.

It's been a month since then, and I love her more than I can explain. She's my rock.

But more on that in the next entry, I do think this is whelming enough for me, much less you.

Til then, friends.