It sounds to me like past events with shitty people built up your loneliness though. It sounds like that because I’m the same way. I used to want to socialize, but couldn’t get it when I was young because bullies made me feel like every time I talked, I was bothering someone. I remember in fifth grade doing an exercise that was supposed to build up our self-esteem. We were given a paper and told to go around the room and get compliments from everyone. I got two: 1) You have nice hair, and 2) You’re good at annoying people. Needless to say, that exercise backfired on me, because the fact that that’s all I could get out of a room of 30 people solidified the idea that every time I talk to someone, I must be bothering them.
As an adult I know intellectually that that’s not true - plenty of people love what I add, lots of people think I’m funny, and say they learn new things every time they talk to me. But deep down, I’m still that little girl who thinks they’re all just humoring me to be polite. Along the path to adulthood, I stopped trying to make friends - the people who get me usually click with me immediately, while those that don’t click probably never will. So why put out the effort?
Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had similar experiences. Autism is tough, without guidance for socialization and with a lower desire for it than neurotypicals have, it’s easy to miss out on key moments in social development. Now we’re loner adults, so used to doing things for ourselves, that the idea of involving others might not even enter our minds. That’s my case, at least. I always think I need to have some big thing planned if I’m to invite someone to do something with me, even though most people just think, “I’m bored, I should invite so-and-so over.” Meanwhile the idea of inviting someone over usually doesn’t cross my mind, and on the rare occasion it does I think, “I don’t want to bore others, so I won’t waste someone else’s time by inviting them when I don’t know what we should do.”
I try not to beat myself up about it. Yes, ultimately we are all responsible for ourselves and our loneliness, but I can’t control the anxiety I get at the thought of socialization. Though I’ve made massive strides since the foundation was laid, there’s a limit to what I can do. I can’t afford therapy, the co-pays alone are out of my budget. Stuck in this situation, I’ve come to accept it. On the plus side, there’s no rule saying we can’t go out and do things, attend public events and such, by ourselves. Maybe that’s weird to other people, but a lot of things about me are weird to other people, so I’m not going to let their opinions ruin my day.
It sounds to me like past events with shitty people built up your loneliness though. It sounds like that because I’m the same way. I used to want to socialize, but couldn’t get it when I was young because bullies made me feel like every time I talked, I was bothering someone. I remember in fifth grade doing an exercise that was supposed to build up our self-esteem. We were given a paper and told to go around the room and get compliments from everyone. I got two: 1) You have nice hair, and 2) You’re good at annoying people. Needless to say, that exercise backfired on me, because the fact that that’s all I could get out of a room of 30 people solidified the idea that every time I talk to someone, I must be bothering them.
As an adult I know intellectually that that’s not true - plenty of people love what I add, lots of people think I’m funny, and say they learn new things every time they talk to me. But deep down, I’m still that little girl who thinks they’re all just humoring me to be polite. Along the path to adulthood, I stopped trying to make friends - the people who get me usually click with me immediately, while those that don’t click probably never will. So why put out the effort?
Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve had similar experiences. Autism is tough, without guidance for socialization and with a lower desire for it than neurotypicals have, it’s easy to miss out on key moments in social development. Now we’re loner adults, so used to doing things for ourselves, that the idea of involving others might not even enter our minds. That’s my case, at least. I always think I need to have some big thing planned if I’m to invite someone to do something with me, even though most people just think, “I’m bored, I should invite so-and-so over.” Meanwhile the idea of inviting someone over usually doesn’t cross my mind, and on the rare occasion it does I think, “I don’t want to bore others, so I won’t waste someone else’s time by inviting them when I don’t know what we should do.”
I try not to beat myself up about it. Yes, ultimately we are all responsible for ourselves and our loneliness, but I can’t control the anxiety I get at the thought of socialization. Though I’ve made massive strides since the foundation was laid, there’s a limit to what I can do. I can’t afford therapy, the co-pays alone are out of my budget. Stuck in this situation, I’ve come to accept it. On the plus side, there’s no rule saying we can’t go out and do things, attend public events and such, by ourselves. Maybe that’s weird to other people, but a lot of things about me are weird to other people, so I’m not going to let their opinions ruin my day.