The words “you are valued for who you are, not for being a genius” make me feel an odd sense of comfort. It’s very easy to get caught up in your failures and mistakes (of which I have many). There are times when other users may leave harsh or even just downright mean comments and those do admittedly jilt my confidence. You probably know that with autism it is very hard to find a safe place, especially one that involves a community, so to have just that one person in that community tell you that you enjoy watching animals suffer, it hurts the heart. It has tainted rearing anything and pretty much wildlife as a whole for me. Each time I try to connect with nature, I’m reminded that my safe community doesn’t always feel so safe. Once that trust is broken, it can often be irreparable even without autism - add neurodivergency into the mix and it’s just a mess. It makes me scared - what if everyone thinks I’m some murderous evil autism monster, devoid of empathy, torturing each animal I find? Once one person puts that seed in your brain, it’s hard to get it out.
Regardless of any of that, I get into my head sometimes that I am a failure and I have betrayed these larvae/pupae that I haven’t been successful with. I don’t know everything, I know hardly anything in reality, but I do struggle with knowing that I SHOULD have known better. I should’ve known hatched moths need a stick or something to climb up, not just the side of the enclosure, and I should’ve known that these pupae needed more/less water etc. These are mistakes I have made that I want to make sure I don’t make again. Saying this, I have had more success with hatching things since making those mistakes and learning from them than ever before. Just yesterday I had another hatch - it was a beautiful Tortrix moth. Each hatch I get makes me feel more affirmed that I am doing things right but then one consistent mistake can go unrealised until something goes horribly wrong and it feels like I have to begin to start again. Perhaps that is simply how it is for everyone but I have this horrible gnawing belief that it is only me that makes these mistakes and it is only me that has these issues.
I don’t mean to leave a long drawn-out reply but I do think that this thread is as poignant as ever. I am coping with the loss of a beautiful friend and a strong grandmother, both of which helped me get through some very difficult times. Add in that my Fudgie is gone and so is Dusty, another cat that visited me, and it makes me feel like the grim reaper is following me wherever I go. Yet, despite all of this pain and misery, I still find myself amazed by caterpillars and sawflies, I still find myself finding joy in learning and, above all, I still find nature looking after me. As a kid, I remember I used to think that the wind was a person who looked after me like an angel. I don’t remember why I thought this (I assume it was something I had picked up from a book perhaps) but it always made me feel so at ease when I would hear or feel the wind blow and think that meant nature was looking after me. When I was in the deepest depths of depression, I found solace in this idea of Gaia. I don’t know if fate exists but I do feel that, after all of the recent grief and pain, something somewhere was destined. All of a sudden I have my new little cat visiting (who I thought was a girl until I realised yesterday that he is DEFINITELY a boy) that used to be skittish and afraid for months yet now all of a sudden it walks straight into my conservatory, jumps onto my lap and sleeps like a baby. It’s like animals can feel that you’re hurting - I’m so very grateful to them for helping me when I always needed them.
This is basically a long message to say thank you. I’m grateful that you and many other iSpotters have consistently been there to support and help me, even if that means telling me I’m being a right numpty on something sometimes lol! I don’t know where I’d be now without iSpot and its community. I joined iSpot nearly 6 months after my attempt at my own life, just hoping for help with a parasitic wasp. I could’ve never guessed it would’ve spiralled into my own love affair with invertebrates. I think I can genuinely say that iSpot as a whole saved my life and how could I not be eternally thankful for that, eh? 
I’ve had a bit of a wobble recently in my life but I find myself coming back to the one place and the one thing that kept me living all this while. I may slink back into the site fully eventually but at the moment I have simply been taking a little bit more of a backseat on iSpot. I’d like to come back in full force soon though - there are lots of autumnal critters to investigate 