How it really is..................

Whilst trawling the web, well I didn't need to trawl far, to find articles about links between Aspergers and Depression I chanced upon the following article by Nomi Kaim on http://www.aane.org. I have pasted in part the article so maybe you can understand a little more about the issue. Nomi seems to have it sewn up perfectly for the condition. I couldn't put it better myself.

It all but describes my feelings- although I do feel the absolute need to be loved and I do like to be held by- but really only by the one person I truly trust with body and my safety, my husband. Not connecting with those closest to me is the hardest part of all.

"Asperger's and Depression:
 Inside a Common Paradox

By Nomi Kaim
A large proportion of people with Asperger’s Syndrome–perhaps especially those who are higher functioning–suffer from some form of depression. It is unclear whether this depression emerges as a result of the struggles, exhaustion, rejection and failures so often present in a life with Asperger’s Syndrome, or whether the mysterious neurology of AS somehow invites, or includes, a hard-wired affective disorder. What is clear is that people with Asperger’s Syndrome can end up particularly entrenched in their depression, and be difficult to treat or “cure.” Like many of the viewpoints and needs of individuals with Asperger’s Syndrome, this depression can be extremely rigid and hard to budge. To use the sensory terminology of Autism Spectrum Disorder: the “weighted blanket” of despair is immobilizing, smothering, paralyzing–and it most certainly does not provide deep pressure relief!
My own personal struggles with Asperger’s Syndrome and depression have also revealed some seeming paradoxes in the juxtaposition of these two conditions. It seems that many of the thoughts, feelings and impulses associated with depression are practically incompatible with the definitive mindset of Asperger’s Syndrome. Depression arouses desires that the person with AS does not need or want–and vice versa. And yet the conditions do coexist, and often; so I, like many with AS, am forced to live the paradox.
Below are some of the contradictory forces I find myself battling daily.
The Dissolution of Special Interests. Since early childhood, my Asperger’s Syndrome has endowed me with powerful, engrossing “special interests” that I turn to for comfort and de-stimulation. But anyone familiar with depression knows how it can suck the pleasure out of interests, hobbies, and just about anything that was once enjoyable. Specifically, when I am depressed, I do not want to do anything fun; nothing seems fun or worthwhile any longer. It is hard to go from having strong interests to having none at all; it leaves an empty space where I don’t know what to make of myself, who I am. What used to intrigue and engross now bores and even repels me. Yet behind this apathy and this despair hides the image of something essential being walled off: my interests are still an enormous part of who I am, but I cannot get at them.
Sacrificing Ideas for Feelings. As a person with AS, I’d rather focus on ideas than on feelings. I have traditionally held the realm of feelings to be wishy-washy, cheesy, “touchy-feely,” frustratingly indefinite and imprecise. But as depression overwhelmed me, I had to alter this stance. I have had to face the unfamiliar, sticky feelings that crept in to dictate my daily experiences. I have had to isolate and put names to these emotions so they would not isolate and put an end to me. And, often, I have had to abandon my ideas and theories by the wayside. Now, I do not regret having learned to speak “feeling talk;” it tempers my annoyance with our highly emotionally oriented world. Still, when I pause to remember the person I was before depression first hit, I sense a loss beyond the dissolution of easy happiness: I miss my theories, my ideas.
The Loss of Constructive Solitude. I value my solitude. Time spent with others often feels awkward, anxious, and disingenuous. In the quiet of my own mind, my calm, true self emerges. But when I am depressed, that true self is obscured by thoughts of self-loathing and destruction. So I need, and seek out, the company of others–if not for comfort, at least for distraction. Solitude becomes painful, even intolerable. I love my solitude and miss it horribly, but sometimes I just can’t have it–not for a moment. When I am depressed, the very aloneness that usually sustains me threatens to destroy me.
Compromising Self-Sufficiency. I want, and have always wanted, to be intellectually and emotionally (if not materially) self-sufficient. I strive to be a self-contained, self-controlled unit comprising my unique values, ideas, and overall world-view. I do not always like the world that surrounds me, and do not wish to become too deeply enmeshed in it. Of course, on the other side of this self-reliance is a profound, if conflicted, desire to connect with other human beings and even–can I write it?–love. Depression compounds this longing with terrible impulses to share my pain, to be validated and nurtured and consoled and comforted, and to surrender my prized individuality to the care of another person–because caring for myself becomes just too burdensome. These impulses feel foreign to my true self, and I am uncomfortable having them.
Physical/Sensory Conflicts. Along the same lines, depression arouses in me an inescapable yearning to be held, rocked, and comforted like a baby. But I basically hate being touched. Even a light tap on the arm can overwhelm me with a convulsive horror, and hugs feel like forced drowning. Often I come away from experiences of touch feeling disassembled and violated; I want to ward off, to retreat. This conflict persists regardless of how depressed I am feeling, but the depression introduces an additional urgent, helpless (and foreign) need for physical nurturance which confounds me more than ever. "