Failure

New member here, please forgive me if this is too long of a read.

No faith in me because of my ASD label

I’ve been struggling with suicidal thoughts here and there for the last 10+ years. It begins from when I was a small child. You see, I was diagnosed with autism when I was about 6 years old mostly because of my speech delays and have had problems from the get go. The teachers often treated me like an idiot, and resulted in me reading at a kindergarten reading level until I was in 4th grade because my parapro only let me read some dragon books with 36 point font that’s really for reading to babies. As hard to believe it as it is, I had to teach myself to read essentially just so I no longer had to rely on the pictures to hope they were telling the story. I spent all of my 5th grade year with a dictionary at night and various books to break down words to the simplest level possible and construct my vocabulary and ability to read sentences.

I remember things like the speech therapist threatening to drag me out of the classroom if I didn’t go with her now in the 4th grade. Said speech therapist also made me pronounce words like orange, apple, banana, etc. when I was in 5th grade. Sadly when I was being reevaluated to see if I needed more special education before middle school, they told my parents what progress they made. Ha, they didn’t do squat to help me! For the longest time, my teachers made me sit either with the other special ed kids or alone with my parapro. As a result I struggled to really maintain friends as I couldn’t always play at school or lunch time. I could never maintain friendships for more than a few years.

Flash forward through middle school and high school, my sophomore year I OD’ed on pills hoping they’d kill me, which didn’t work. I went to therapy for several months, and my dad decided to tell me that he’s tired of paying for my sessions for me to just talk about life and not make progress in my healing. So after that I pretended I was feeling better just to appease my parents, even though my suicidal thoughts never went away from then on sadly.

All they care about is my looks and body

Junior year about 9 years ago, my parents were close to divorcing. They were excessively in my business, even though my mom moved out twice in the past year. A friend of mine was hosting a hotel birthday party, which I to this day wish I never went to because of what happened. My high school boyfriend that I’ve dated on and off since the end if freshman year raped me in the backdoor in the bathroom when everyone else was gone. I told him to stop several times and claims he didn’t hear me. I heard a feminine, beautiful voice tell me to fall to the ground (perhaps you could call this an angel if you will). After that I fell to the ground in tears because of the pain and trauma.

I never got help for this incident, and I am paying for it today. Because of my very low self-esteem and self-loathing tendencies I felt I deserved it. Afterall, my parents always reminded me of how I was hard to relate to and raise and all apparently because of my history. Plus, there’s a serious rape culture in this country, where the victims are the criminals and the perpetrators are the victims.

Flash forward a couple years later, and I started dating someone different, someone who I thought was my friend for the last 5 years. We have all heard of the statistic that if one has been raped, they’re more likely to be raped again than someone who never has been raped. We are told to watch our drinks at parties in case someone tries to put in a so called “roofie” or date rape drug, walk in well lit areas with a friend, etc. What they don’t talk about is when premed students who are perverts and know their drugs decides to bring you a glass of water and waits until you pass out for a few hours to have their way. I woke up one time on my stomach, pants off, and caught my then boyfriend having sex with me while I was asleep. I asked him what he was doing and to stop. Because I felt so groggy and confused, I couldn’t really fight. This wasn’t too long before I moved to another state, where I am today. 

Said ex boyfriend cheated on me when I was asleep in his room for the last time, at the same time I was having a strange dream about him cheating on me in his basement. He confessed a few months later when I told him about the dream and how I woke up to him walking through the front door after him walking her home! I did cut the loser off cold turkey after he told the truth.

Just when I began to think things were getting better…

I became pregnant on the night of my current boyfriend’s birthday a couple years ago. It was an unplanned pregnancy and one for which I was completely not ready. This part of my life that’s supposed to be full of excitement and joy is where my problems and old wounds really resurface. The sensations I felt with my son moving inside me never made me feel excited, but instead I felt uneasy and out of control over my body, just like when I was being raped. I felt like life was playing a cruel joke on me with this pregnancy while working only a part time job as a retail cashier making less than $500/month and only an AA. My boyfriend was pressuring me very hard to get a job, even though I was very obviously pregnant and we all know how employers are these days.

Luckily (at least I thought at the time), I found a 35 hour second shift job that pays $15/hour in a lab. So the financial situation seemingly got better until my boyfriend lost his job and has since been working multiple bar tending jobs too make ends meet. Living in an expensive city and being stuck struggling paycheck to paycheck for the last 2ish years along with health problems from working hours I should be asleep during and all has taken its toll on me has done wonders for me (not).

Oh and my not so wonderful manager? She claims punching in, putting away my lunch in the fridge, and then getting a cup of water or so is time falsification. I’ve caught her walking into the break room pretending she needs a cup of water even though she always has a bottle in her office, goes to the bathroom, and even roaming the hallways conveniently when I’m coming in to start the work day. I start a whole hour later than most of my peers, so she suddenly has to do this when I’m walking in the door to see what I do after clocking in and such? What a stalker and an overpaid loser who others say is the worst manager my department has ever seen. She’s rude, communicates mainly through sticky notes I get to come into first thing every other week I make a stupid “mistake” according to her. Oh and my great ideas that helped people understand certain tasks way quicker and save a ton of time? Unacknowledged, and one was implemented up until the day before I conveniently get a write-up for a mistake I made a few weeks prior to the day before I had a job interview for another department. Ha, that ***** set me up because she can’t even keep her department fully staffed and was afraid of losing yet another employee. She’s done it to others conveniently when they too were looking to transfer to greener pastures within the company. So much for a company that’s so full of opportunities for advancement… LOL if you’re in bed with management and kiss their behinds enough then absolutely!

I thought my old wounds were healed up until…

So I thought my wounds were cleared up until labor came. Because of doctors being the authority of how labor goes and a boyfriend that stayed out too long working, I felt so alone. When I crowned and felt my son pressing on my rectum, I mentally lost it. I was too calm during labor despite my best discomfort in trying to maintain my sanity.

Thank god my son actually started sleeping through the night early on, and was anyways mild mannered, despite some expected tantrums while teething and such. I don’t know how long I would’ve lasted if he had colic or otherwise a terrible sleeper. Still, I am overtired by the time I go to bed and fell like I’m running on 5 hours of sleep even if I sleep for 9, thanks to my crazy work hours.

I tried getting help but I got the short end of a twig

I saw a counselor per a program Mr company offers their employees. The issue is that there’s only 6 sessions you get a year, so to not be told to go elsewhere for my issues, I never talked about what happened to me, only my messed up childhood. Plus, imagine the judgment I would be the not so proud recipient of after mentioning I was raped not once by one person but multiple times by different assholes. Whoever knew that a medically ordinary childbirth could still wreck havoc on someone who was raped years ago when the wounds were mostly healed?

The counselor said I have anxiety issues and some anger problems. This is true but none of that explains my nightmares, reliving past traumas constantly, breaking stuff because I feel like I’m fighting for my life every day. Every day I cry on my way to work lately, I sob in the corner half the time I’m with my son during the short time I have with him every day. Shoot, I hold back tears many days while at work half the day and even sometimes while driving to pick up my son. Whatever happened to me? Is this who I’ll be for the rest of my pathetic life?

I just want to die and give my son a better life and boyfriend a better woman

My boyfriend is growing weary of my mood swings. I only recently told him about what my premed Ex did to me and how childbirth brought back awful memories, making me look abnormally calm while in labor and when pushing. He will never understand that I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or awake and am constantly reliving my past horrors because my mind now thinks it’s almost 10 years ago. He will never know how I struggle to feed myself during the day because I’m overwhelmed with childcare and constantly reliving my nightmares while awake. He’s too much in denial of how bad my mental health has crashed. He’s too scared to do more because he was blessed to have been raised with a stay at home mother since he was 8 and thinks women must do it all for him. He stops trying to push for a better job because he thinks he’s annoying ppl with his persistence and claims he wants to do things “on his schedule” and seriously wonders why he hasn’t been in a management position in years, even though he’s worked for over 15 years! Yet another frustrating situation I can’t manage. 

Fuck being a mom I should have never become, the messed up child my parents regret having at all. Fuck my boyfriend who’s too passive and buries his head ink the sand, hoping my problems go away overnight on their own. I feel awful for my beautiful angel of a son I don’t deserve. I have zero patience because I can barely eat, drink, etc., struggle to communicate my feelings and the fact I make him healthy foods his lazy grandmother doesn’t feel like giving him unless my head injured boyfriend (thanks to a car wreck that almost killed him 10 years ago) somehow manages to remember a damn thing. He and his family gets frustrated my parents work and can’t have him as much as they’d like and they get annoyed with the poor communication on everyone’s part. I am buying myself a nice bottle of wine, rope, and letter paper so I can soon say goodbye to this sad world.

If you managed to read this hot mess of a post, thank you for listening to what I have to say hopefully before I leave this dirty world behind for good.