A Desire to Escape

It's a common dream to move to the country and start a new life. Live in a quaint town where the main shops are family-owned and everyone knows everyone else. Perhaps raise a few chickens and start a garden, with your dog for company. 

My husband, Jeff, and I have a similar dream, to be honest. We've both grown up in suburban areas with hardworking dads and stay-at-home, homeschooling moms. It was a good childhood, for both of us. Soon after we got married at twenty years old, we realized we absolutely hated living that sort of life as adults. And the more I think about it, the more I think our ASD has to do with that.

Life is stressful. Managing bills, work, social obligations, cleaning the house, car maintenance, grocery shopping, cooking, family members feeling neglected, laundry, marriage, and attempts to plan a path into the future is a very full plate for a socially-inept autistic prone to feeling overwhelmed. Especially when it all piles up because oh shoot, I forgot about that medical bill that came in the mail a month ago and now it got forwarded to a collection agency - is that going to impact my credit? Because we need a second car and the first car is starting to fail. 

If anything extra gets piled on top of the usual responsibilities, it seems like life just falls apart. Car breaking down? My routine for my precious day off is ruined and now I'm having a meltdown because I don't know who to call first. Asked to be the matron of honor in a wedding? Sounds great at first, but then I have to schedule flights, arrange transport to and from the airport on both ends, buy a dress and get it altered, write a speech, plan a bachelorette party, ask off from work, and schedule social visits with family and friends while we're in the area. Can I just... not?

Mental and spiritual health is a distant dream when it feels like all my responsibilities are falling through my grasp like grains of sand. I get so overwhelmed that I get absolutely nothing done, which only stresses me out more because while I'm vainly panicking in my subconscious about cars and weddings and consciously hiding from it by reading yet another Harry Potter fanfiction, I still have to get to work and eat three meals, and a lot of days that's about all I manage. And then I get to another day off and realize I now have baskets of laundry to deal with (and Jeff complaining that his favorite masks have been in there for a week or more), I still haven't ordered myself that pair of glasses, still have a speech to write, and have been ignoring inane texts for a week because the idea of answering them was too stressful. So I go grocery shopping to try to put it all off, and feel a bit better while I'm away from the house and reminders of my to-do list, only to feel even worse when I get back because now I have to put the stupid groceries away, too, and the whole day is gone and I got nothing done.

If it sounds pointlessly exhausting, that's because it is. I probably could benefit from seeing a therapist of some sort, but it probably won't happen anytime soon because getting that kind of thing set up is another process to put in motion and handle, and I'm already completely behind on everything else.

Where was I going with this?

Ah, yes. The desire to escape.

Funnily enough, part of what sparked my desire to move out to the mountains and start a homestead was Stardew Valley (highly recommended, if you've never played it). There's just something appealing about leaving life behind to grow your own food surrounded by nature. Ditch working for a boss, raise your own animals and sell crops at a farmer's market, and do some blogging from home on the side. Of course, there will still be bills to pay and cars to maintain and housework to keep up with and phone calls to make, but it seems a step closer to living life on your own terms instead of letting your days be dictated by your scheduling manager. 

Austistics often have controlling tendencies, because we want to ensure that our environment stays safe and comfortable. We prefer to live life by our own rules, because what works for the neurotypical society often doesn't work for us. Part of being an autistic adult is figuring out how to cope with a society that is built by and for neurotypicals. It's absolutely exhausting. No wonder we want to just get away from it as much of it as possible.

I just want life to slow down. A lot of times, when the to-do list gets too long, I just can't keep up. I believe the term is autistic burnout. It's always a struggle to climb my way out of that pit, one item at a time until the list isn't so big anymore and I feel in control again. Then I'll feel like I'm on top of the world, managing my routine tasks like a well-oiled machine - right up until something else happens to break that routine, such as a migraine or an unexpected family obligation, or strange bill in the mail.

Narrowing my routine tasks to my own house and land seems like a good way to simplify it all, and if I'm far enough away from family that I'm not obligated to go to every birthday party filled with screaming four-year-olds, that will only improve my mental health. Being around plants and animals is calming, to boot. My main worries are learning how to take on those new responsibilities and how my future chickens would fare on days when a migraine takes me out for the count.