Lying awake, sleep a distant dream. The toxins of the day heating the mind to boiling point. Thoughts fluttering, half formed, ideas, fantasies, fears, triggering adrenalin dumps, the body shudders, muscles twitching, cramping. I know if I try to do anything productive I will fail, that even turning the TV on will be the wrong thing to do, but what option is there? I must sleep, or at least rest but my mind, forever restless will not let me.

 I light a cigarette, the red glow reflected in my half lidded eyes, moist with tears. The smoke rises, curls, mixes with the dust motes suspended in the still air of the room. Slowly the nicotine enters my bloodstream, I can feel it coursing round my body until finally, blessedly it reaches my brain. The chemical triggers of synaptic pathways, dopamine, seratonin, endorphins start to quiet the raging thoughts.

 The dilemma of the addict. I know each drag on the cigarette is killing me, yet without it I am dead anyway, locked in a cycle of craving, unable to function correctly, broken. I drift, my mind calmed, soft sounds through the open window, the first notes of the dawn chorus as the sky starts to lighten in the East. Time to face the day, another night lost…… 


About Autistic writing

Im 46, autistic and vocal about it, a specialist autism mentor in higher education, embarking on my MEd in adult autism, autistic advocate and campaigner, writer and co-founder of asP - the autism strategy partnership #differentnotdamaged #askaboutasP

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