It has been said that one can be lonely even surrounded by a room full of people. One can experience the painful separation between themselves and others when stuck in a world unfamiliar and terrifying. I live it. I understand this woeful familiarity of loneliness. I’ve experienced it often, especially while attending public schooling many years ago. I remember being in the gym, sitting on the floor, looking around at my new classmates and not recognizing any familiar faces, or seeing those who had previously tormented me. I wanted to escape. As I watched, mesmerized, a single fly buzzing around me, I longed for being that fly just so I could escape my situation. Didn’t fathom that, well, flies don’t live very long. It didn’t phase me. All I wanted was out. That was until I noticed another girl sitting in the corner. Yes. I have a way of gravitating to others I perceive are experiencing the same out-of-place feeling I was.
Loneliness. Many had lived it during the pandemic. Some even took their own lives due to being isolated from loved ones, classmates, co-workers, and even from activities they enjoyed previously. I understand many people are considered extroverts, love being the center of attention, and parties. With Autism, I say a big ‘No thank you.’ Some might say, Well isn’t your loneliness self-imposed then? Yes and No.
The sad fact is, I want friends. I may not know how to get them, much less how to keep them. But the fact is, everyone wants a friend. No. Not looking for a large group of people because over time that would get exhausting. But I believe everyone would like a friend or two, a close confidante, someone who’s shoulders are broad enough to bear the weight of our sorrow, ears to hear and try and understand what we are struggling with currently. I have scared off friends before, I know.
But the loneliness in a crowd. That’s the scary part. I can go to a concert, a grocery store, even to the beach, and I live it. Panic attacks invade and I’m ready to flee. Difficult when you are married to an extrovert, someone who craves the spotlight. Opposites attract and all that…They probably don’t understand me. All I want is for them, anyone, to understand the pressure to conform, to understand how my brain processes life, troubles, situations. I’m lost in my own world at times. I’m a ghost, floating through the crowds. It’s difficult to even breathe. I avoid eye contact. Avoid bumping into anyone because that would signify contact. I don’t want that.
Therein lies the struggle. No contact, but I don’t want to continue being lonely. Now to be clear loneliness is not the same as solitude. Solitude I appreciate. I gravitate to. Nothing like sitting at my computer, windows open and hearing the birds singing. Bliss. Or going for a hike on a trail, no one else around, just me one with nature. Or near a body of water, just listening intently to the water just lapping against the shore. I don’t know what it is, but water calms me. I can embrace solitude at that point, at that location, and I am content.
It is when I am ignored, like I am somehow not alive, that hurts, especially by people who should care, who should take a chance to know me, who shouldn’t be as judgmental. Church people. I’m a Christian so I attend church, but I don’t really go out of my way to get to know people. I have in the past, and sometimes it went well and other times drastically wrong. I’ve been told that people think I’m stuck up. Nope, not me. I’m guilty of not reaching out more, but I just don’t have the energy to do so.
I’m drowning in loneliness at times. I go for walks and see other women walking with friends and I’m jealous at times. How do they do that? Make and keep friends? I just can’t figure it out. Even being around family exhausts me. I don’t w ant it to, but it does.
Life with Autism is many parts loneliness and other parts solitude. Many parts bliss and many parts frustration. Even with my writing here I wonder if readers understand what I’m going for, or am I just confusing people? But I embrace my uniqueness. I have said that often enough, I’m sure, but I find that to be the truth. It’s okay to love solitude, but loneliness, well to me it sometimes just feels like a curse.