Thread by @EmApocalyptic

Lovelies, I haven't been on Twitter much over the last year or so, certainly not in the way I used to be. I feel the need to talk about why, so I'm just gonna splurge it all out here to get through it. It's gonna be a long thread. [Takes a very deep breath.]

Before I start, please understand that I will probably not reply to most responses. I simply can't, and hopefully by the end of this thread the reason will be clear. Please don't think I am being rude or ignoring you.

This is going to be hard to talk about, but I feel it's important because I made a conscious decision to be open about mental health and suffering from anxiety. And I want to explain my absence to those who only connect with me here.

So, to cut a very long and unpleasant story short, I had a breakdown early last year. I was skating on the edge of it for over a year before that, truth be told, but in March 2020 I finally sought help.

I'm not gonna lie; I was in a seriously bad place mental health wise. Really, really depressed, exhausted, multiple severe panic attacks a week - sometimes in one day. It was hell. I just wanted it all to end.

Thanks to a recommendation from a friend, I got a therapist, as I was finding it harder and harder to function. After the first session he said I just needed to stop. Stop all commitments, stop working, stop everything. Then do the work to heal.

This coincided with the start of lockdown in the UK, and events I'd committed to were being cancelled and to be honest I was actually relieved I didn't have to face doing them. Then the proper work began; dealing with a huge amount of trauma.

I don't want to go into details but I was diagnosed with cPTSD. And then, after months of my therapist saying 'I really think you should seek an autism assessment', I did so. (There is a WHOLE STORY there OMG, but it's not the time to tell it.)

At the age of 44 I was diagnosed as autistic. At the age of 20 I'd been diagnosed with General Anxiety Disorder, but it was a misdiagnosis. I'd been struggling to manage all my life, and suddenly understood why. And why aspects of the anxiety never seemed to ease up.

I am still processing this. It's a lot to understand and reframe and figure out. It's become clear that the breakdown was just as much, if not more, autistic burnout. And creative burnout too. I had absolutely nothing left in the tank. It was so scary.

It's only been about 4 months since the autism diagnosis. I am still recovering. I couldn't write for months and months, but recently I've been able to write short stories again. Such a relief! I honestly thought I had lost that forever.

All of this was going on against the backdrop of single parenting during a pandemic. Bereavements, due to covid and due to cancer. Being cut off from my wider support network due to lockdown. All the stuff everyone is struggling with at the moment. (hugs to you all)

Not that I could actually communicate with friends and family very well during that time anyway. But it was still very hard to get through it with everything else going on. Like trying to survive a severe mental health crisis on hard mode.

I seriously considered ending my career. Now the ability to write has come back, but it's hard and I'm frustrated by how I am having to pace myself differently. I'm learning that I can't live the way I used to, for so many reasons.

It is still scary and recovery feels delicate and uncertain. I'm also unpacking a lifetime of struggle and the grief of not getting the help I needed until now. But I am still so very lucky to have found the help I have. So very lucky.

So, I am autistic. I have cPTSD. I am having to re-evaluate everything about my life and how I function day to day. Self-care is now critical, and not something I can ignore anymore. Well, I could, but then I'll lose another year to hell times.

Which brings me to Twitter, and by extension, the social side of life online. I have had to pull right back to recover, but even as that happens, I don't think I will be coming back here often. Not for the foreseeable future anyway.

It is overwhelming. Overloading. Opening Twitter is like opening an emotional blast furnace and standing there wondering how long I can look in before it does too much damage. It's changed here over the years, and my ability to cope with that has diminished.

So I am focusing my reduced social resources on my newsletter and my Patreon, because I still want to be able to connect with people. I cannot handle Zoom etc very well, so probably won't be participating in online events for the foreseeable.

I am aiming (and currently succeeding!) to write one short story a month. Patrons get to read it first, then newsletter subscribers. Recently I've managed to post and chat with patrons in my Patreon space too. I'm gonna tell you where you can find them in case you're interested.

Newsletter subscribers receive the story a week or so later, for free. My Patreon doesn't have tiers, and patrons get access to all the previous stories I've written in the Planetfall universe. This week I'll be releasing the tenth story. Which is nice.

So if you want to keep in touch, you can sign up for my newsletter. It's free. I will send you news about projects, occasional silliness and a story every month. You can sign up here: enewman.co.uk/connect/subscr…

And if you love my work and want to help support me in creating more - and want to have more social connection on posts - my Patreon page is here: patreon.com/emmanewman

When I am stronger and have healed more, maybe I will be able to handle hanging out on Twitter more, but until then, I may do the odd newsletter shout out and RTing cool stuff (I really want to support my friends better!), but not chatting much.

If you've reached the end of this thread, blimey! Thanks for sticking with it! Lots of love to you. At some point in the future I will talk more about adult diagnosis of autism, but not now. I need to be stronger and for it all to feel less raw.

So many of us are struggling, with so many horrendous things at once. I guess I wanted to talk about this past year to fight that lingering stigma about mental illness, and to say that there is no shame in getting help, if you are able. These are awful times, but hold fast.

(A teeny tiny clip from one of my favourite films.)

Take care, my lovelies.