Right at this moment I have locked myself into my bedroom and started writing because I have a bad feeling about what will happen if I allow my mind to wander. I don’t know what I am writing or to whom but I intend to put out there somewhere so I don’t feel so alone. If anyone is reading this I should explain that any semantic abnormalities in what follows are due to the adrenaline high I am experiencing as a result of traumatic day with Asperger’s/autism and Bipolar issues. Today I had an experience that scared the living shit out of me; I found the fragile grip I hold on to life slip away in an instant. From circumstances I can’t get my self to recall at this instant I became so frustrated earlier today that my emotions precipitated into a suicidal state. However the motives felt very different from what I had experienced in the past, [attempted in preteen years] this time it wasn’t a feeling of wanting to die as a way out, but rather wanting to die as a way of sparing the world the harm I will inflict upon it. This is a new low; it indicates that I have become so depressed as to see myself as not only a societal failure but a potentially dangerous human being. How I can see myself this way is a mystery to me; if indeed I were dangerous to others would I be aware of this fact? Could I consciously act against my will to be benevolent? Logic doesn’t seem to be joining my thoughts at the moment…only pain. I feel this pain without really understanding it or where it comes from. I feel more and more distant from life somehow; regardless of where I am I feel alone, even in the presence of others. I went to local group of people with similar neurological problems yesterday and felt very alone there, unable to relate to those who are clinically similar to myself. No matter what I do to mitigate this feeling of loneliness and pain, it grows. No one that I talk to, not even my psychotherapist seems to have any understanding of what I feel; I can’t even get empathy to help me get by. Every conversation, every interaction, be it verbal, written, or otherwise, feels like a battle in which my goal is to achieve a basic level of connection that is forever out of reach. Yes part of this is autism but some other factor is coming into play here and its presence is derailing my entire thought process. I am curiously reluctant to try and identify this factor; somehow I feel it would be presumptuous to associate this pain with the various sources of pain I encounter on a regular basis. Perhaps I can use the words pain and fear interchangeably here; I think in my experience the two are always difficult to separate. Somehow then this fear/pain has become something I have perceived as dangerous, perhaps because it has led to anger, and anger is seldom benevolent. I guess I’m experiencing the pinnacle of anti-sociality at the moment, a frustration from not satisfying my most basic social needs. But which needs are those? I don’t know, and certainly even if I did there is no way I could satisfy them. I don’t have the pleasure of being able to tell the different between the various categories of deprivation; for all I know I could be experiencing everything from a lack of conversation to a lack of sex. All are lacking to be sure, but I can’t discern where the main problem lies so I can’t even cut it into a manageable piece to do something about it. What’s more I have so much fear right now that I wouldn’t be able to cohesively talk to anybody even if they came knocking on my door. So I have effectively quarantined myself to my bedroom in the hope that time alone can solve this problem even though I know that to be a foolish thought. I don’t know what anyone can say to this or would want to say to it, but I really don’t want to be ignored at the moment.