The first snowfall of the year

The first snowfall of the year, and I cannot appreciate it.  Usually the first snowfall of the year has me bundling up, and heading out for a long walk in which I skip with excitement and delight, my heart bursting with gratitude and praise to the God who creates all things--including snow.  Today, however, I am too sick with psychotropic drugs to do anything. There is no joy, no possibility of excitement or joy in my life at all.  I had headed to the gym to try to work out for an hour or two before taking a walk, but I was so severely autistic that I couldn't do anything.  While I was driving, I had to shut my eyes while stopped at intersections, because I could not bear to see the cars moving past (key feature of autism AND migraine headaches--objects in motion create a nauseating seasick feeling, and seem to be much closer than they really are).  It took monumental effort to focus on reality enough to drive, and sure wouldn't want to be a passenger if I knew how messed up the driver's perception of reality was.  I got to the gym and did a little cardio, but again, it took monumental effort to move my legs.  I had to close my eyes because I could not bear all the stimuli all around me.  I  had wanted to do a little weights to try to keep my muscles toned, but as I walked across the gym floor with all the commotion and stimuli around me, I knew there was no way I could stand it.  So I left--a waste of a gallon of gas for 25 minutes of cardio. 
I had wanted to go to the bosque, but I was too sick to walk briskly enough in the snow to keep warm (all I wanted to do was find a nice tree and lay down).  I have decided to create myself an elaborate scifi fantasy world, and need a little drug free time and space to do so.  Why?  Because right now, with myself being as severely autistic as I am, it actually is much more comfortable, much more human, to be in a fantasy world than the real world.  I struggled so hard as a child and youth to leave the comfort blanket of the fantasy world behind and enter the "real world" of things, motion, and people.  But now, it is too hard to be in the real world, it is too sickening, too inhuman.  I find though (it amazed me in the psychiatric hospital that the dumbass "psych" thought that he was erasing my "racing thoughts" when all I did was lay in bed and spin out an entire fantasy world in which I spent nearly all of my time), that it is very pleasant to enter a fantasy world, and it is the only way in which I can feel like a human being again.  This is why I keep reverting to images from memories, novels, and movies.  But it would be more challenging to create a completely new fantasy world--I just need a little drug free space to initiate it.  It won't happen today.  I am too sick to go anywhere except stay in the house and breathe the poison.  So I will go for the next best thing--TV--a total waste of time, but right now my entire life is a waste, so no big loss.