Untitled / insomnia

I found this sat in my drafts folder from several months ago, when I was working full time at a very unsociable job in an unsuitable location in a sensorily overwhelming office . I am currently in bed, my tummy full of nourishing dinner, relaxed and preparing to start a day at my new job tomorrow, where I am supported and valued, and able to not only deal with daily stressors properly but also motivated to work hard . At the time that I wrote this, I was having up to ten meltdowns a day and often eating no more than a few mouthfuls of food because the stress was making me so sick. I was having dire, dark, depressed thoughts . I'm much better now; the piece below doesn't even feel like my writing. I'm as autistic as I ever was but I'm able to cope with the demands of my new job whilst learning to code on the side , working on my designs , and seeing my friends . And I'm having much fewer meltdowns ! My office is centrally located, well lit, and my team are supportive and deal with my autistic traits but also value my strengths that I bring to the company. 

The reason I'm publishing this is because I want to demonstrate how my "functioning" levels and ability to cope in the world have waxed and waned according to how well my needs were accommodated and supported. I also want you, the reader at home; the autistic reader; the reader with an autistic friend, partner, or relative, to know that it does get better, even when things seem incredibly frightening and dark at the time. 

When allowed to exist comfortably the body and mind are capable of many things . But we are contorted into dreadful unnatural shapes. We bend. Then we break and we snap. Everything is too much. Other people's feelings are too intense . It is too warm and there are too many things to do today. I feel sick at the enormously infinite possibilities . With no innate way to predict people's reactions I take the safe option and assume a defensive position in case they get angry . I am permanently curled into a ball it seems . I am tired. I don't get to enjoy my free time any more , it's simply hours of preparatory resting up so I have the mental fortitude to deal with going to work. I feel incredibly alone . I don't wish I felt less emotion, but rather that I wasn't trapped contorted into this unnatural position where I am obliged to be exposed to things that make me feel terrible . That is an ableist society, simply put. 

A