Depression is bad again. I haven’t been out the door in two days.

It is quite rare that I don’t go out for a few days. I haven’t even been for a walk. I’m depressed and all I want to do is sleep. I cannot function against the ableism that exists in the outside world. It has always been there but I wasn’t worn down enough feel it as a form of trauma. I was so much happier when I was unaware and innocent minded. Ignorance is a major comfort. Once I lost that aspect of my autism, my inner defence shield was no longer there. Yes, I probably need to at least go for a walk to feel better but my brain says no today. I feel too weighed down to walk. I constantly want sleep. I just couldn’t walk out my front door today. It’s like having chains keeping me inside. I imagine the world outside and I just feel overwhelmed. I know that some autistic people have got agoraphobic as they’ve got older. I’ve never been afraid of going out but I’m now getting older. Lockdown made me comfortable about not going out. Then I got to the point where I thought why go out when I’m much more comfortable not being out? That’s why I get my food shop delivered every so often. I get everything to my door without stressing myself out going into the outside world.

I can’t be repaired. And, the wrongs can never be fixed.

I say that I’m over what happened with my sons ‘forced’ adoption… enough to consider having another child hoping that the next time works out. I’m not ever fully going to be repaired though. I’m still half too scared to have another baby in case I’m picked on by the uk authorities again. Then there is a part of me that feels like I’ve had a part of me ripped out. I won’t ever get to fill that emptiness. That would only be repaired if all that happened could be reversed. That’s never going to happen. That means I’m stuck with an emptiness full of sadness (regardless how much I try to be happy in the present) and forever feeling lost. I’m not where I belong. I’m stuck in the void of drifting for the rest of my life. Even if my son does find me as an adult, that feeling isn’t going to go away. It’s the trauma of having my son snatched by a system that refused to support me. They didn’t take into account that I hadn’t had a baby before. Professionals involved in the case made me out to be unstable and incapable, even throwing in that I was manipulative, to get a care and placement order. Once he was placed they knew the adoption order was just a procedure to legalise what they’d done. I feel the damage they did to me every single day of my life since that happened. It’s like being metaphorically constantly stabbed with a knife both mentally and emotionally. It’s not just a one time cruel event. The memories from that time constantly traumatise you every single day. You can’t not think about it. I’m connected with my son wherever he is … so I still feel him. That isn’t something I can block out. He won’t even remember me because I haven’t seen him since the last contact session when he was 14 months old. That is emotionally painful. It’s like I don’t even exist in his mind. I’m as good as a stranger to him.