I finished the forms. I spent all of yesterday’s energy on them. And today I feel sick and exhausted. But that was to be expected. I’m also really stressed that all the things I was planning to try to do this week haven’t happened. But I can’t do anything about it at this stage. Every time I just feel like I might be getting things back on track I run out of time and energy again.
We have returned the forms and my second referral has gone through. My husband had an e-mail from the assessment centre today and we now have a date for my third assessment – it is in a few weeks’ time, at the end of February. It was quite a detailed and helpful e-mail, although my name was written with the wrong spelling throughout.
So now we start the wait again. The e-mail did speak of assessing whether I just had a few traits, and might be not enough for a diagnosis, and it would be unknown whether they would tell me on the day. And all sorts of other unsettling things. All sorts of unknowns and uncertainties.
And so the uncertainties are once again raging through my own head. Am I imagining all this? Will I once again be sent away with no answers and no help? Will I “fail” the test? And if I do, can we even contemplate the energy to do it again or will we simply give up? And if we give up, then I just have to try and live whatever years of this life I have left as best I can, and the whole autism business will join the whole childlessness business as one of the great unknowns, but the nightmare ended not by the menopause but by my death.
As time goes by I’m now getting less and less confident about the whole thing again. Life has always been like it is. I have struggled for years with it and nobody has ever officially given me an answer that makes sense of it all. I’m not that confident that they will now, given how badly the first assessment went and how they just cancelled the second one (see part B of the Blog Guide for the full story).
When I got the date for the first assessment I was nervous, yes, but I was also excited that it might be the biggest day of my life and the day that provided the answer as to why my life has gone so badly wrong in so many ways for so many decades.
Now I have the date for the third assessment, there isn’t excitement. I’m just scared. Scared that it’ll be as bad as the first, and that I’ll yet again be not believed, and that I’ll be sent away and there’ll be no closure and we’ll just have to stay alive and carry on alone somehow. I feel that this process should have happened years ago, maybe when I was a child with a parent to look after me, or in my early adulthood, before I was middle-aged and exhausted by everything, before I went through two major burnouts, back when there was still hope of building a life, maybe even of being supported enough to survive in the workplace and not ending up as useless as I’ve now become.
But at least the next assessment is in a different place, with a different person. With any luck I won’t ever have to go back to the first hospital ever again, which would be good.
This is another of those “therapy/journal” blog posts. This process is very hard, with many ups and downs, and in the absence of any sort of therapist, some of the downs will inevitably find their way here.
The irony being that getting another appointment, in only a few weeks’ time, from the second referral centre (meaning I don’t have to go back to the hospital), is actually a really big and positive step forward, and my brain knows this. My brain also knows that they can’t possibly tell me what the outcome of the assessment will be until they’ve done the assessment (otherwise there would be no point to autism assessments and diagnoses if they just diagnosed everyone), so of course it’s a whole load of uncertainty, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
Because the fear of it all going wrong again is still there.