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- May 1, 2024
- 229
I just returned from almost five hours of wandering around my big city to my room. It seems like it was the last time I ever left my room in my life.
At the end of April, I finished my university classes, which had already been rather nonexistent in the previous weeks. Since then, for the past five weeks, I've been confined to my room constantly. Only once a week, though not even always, did I leave my room for consultations on my master's thesis. Besides that, I was still out of my room for those moments when, every so often, I had to do shopping, or when I was driving back to my city from my family's house, or when I was returning from the city to my house. That was all.
While writing this post, I noticed that I haven't had a single interaction with another human being this year. Not a single one...
No one even spoke to me, no one even approached me, no one even laughed with me. No one. Not even once. I'm talking about students here. Out of 160 people, after five years of studying together, there wasn't a single person I could approach and strike up a conversation with, who wanted to talk to me, who would message me, who wanted to be my friend, who wanted me to be part of their group...
Outside of college, of course, it's just as bad. Both in real life and online. I'm so autistic that I can't make friends with anyone even online. There's not a single thing I can do in real life, not a single community or group I belong to or could join, not a single event I could participate in, not a single activity I could do with another person. Not a single person I could do anything with. Despite my mental state, I'd be able to do anything in real life. It's not that I don't do anything because I'm depressed and therefore don't want anything, but if I didn't have depression, I'd do everything. I want to do everything. But I can't do anything because of my situation. Almost nothing that happens in the real world is even theoretically possible for me, and the one or two things that were theoretically possible and that I tried to do also turned out to be impossible because they didn't work. No one will understand what autism means to a person. No one will understand what looking repulsive means to a person. No one understands what it means when interaction with another person doesn't work. No one understands what it means when you can't talk to anyone, when you can't even try to be friends with someone, because nothing ever works...
Even my very short shopping trips always involved observing other wonderful, beautiful, joyful people, while I was their complete opposite... But today I had to go out again, and unfortunately, for a longer time. At first, I only went out for a moment, and even for that moment, I had to observe all those people again – on the street, at the tram stop, on the way to university… Then for another few hours on the streets and in the shops… This time, there were too many of them to remember them specifically, as I always do. To list them in a thread, as I was capable of.
But why can't I be that gorgeous-looking girl in a beautiful blue blouse, with curly brown hair and bangs, smoking a cigarette with three friends outside the café...? Or one of those three beautiful girls, one dressed in Lolita attire, the other in white makeup with black eyeliner and lipstick, and the third with pink hair... Or one of those two girls with dyed blonde hair. Or that girl with the beautiful face and the blouse cut at an angle. Or that girl with a beautiful face working in the store. Or that girl at the crosswalk in the crop top and ruffled mini skirt. Or any of dozens of other such wonderful people I still remember right now, whom I met on the street today.
Groups of friends walking together. Couples walking together. Even people walking alone, but representing the complete opposite of who I am. Every other person smoking a cigarette, every other person triggering me with it. I could never be one of those three girls smoking outside the store... Or that girl with black curly hair and beautiful face and eyes whose male friend returned her lighter... Or be the girl with dyed hair. Or the piercing. Or the tattoos. Or dressed in some avant-garde way.
These images are so utterly painful, so utterly unbearable, that I can no longer even adequately strong feel the suffering and pain emanating from them...
In a way, this was the last time in my life that I was outside my room, that I was on the streets, that I saw all these people. These are my last days in the big city. Everything points to Monday being the end of my long stay there. I'll be there once more, for my final exam, and once again, for my graduation, if my family will likely force me to attend. But that will be the end.
My stay in such a supposedly wonderful place will be over forever. I'll be forever locked in my room in my home village, where I'll never be able to even see another human being, let alone interact with them.
For all those people I indirectly met today, this city, their lives, is the source of so much happiness...
For me, it's the source of nothing but terrible suffering and pain...
Nothing can be changed. Nothing can be changed. I can't be helped. I can't help myself. There's really nothing I can do...
I feel nothing...
It's no wonder I have to fight so hard to get into cigarettes to feel anything and ruin my life with a serious addiction, since I feel nothing.
Did I really deserve for something like this to happen to me? Did I really deserve for everyone at my university to treat me this way? Did I really deserve to be born this way, so that everyone who met me on the street wouldn't even see me as a human being?
At the end of April, I finished my university classes, which had already been rather nonexistent in the previous weeks. Since then, for the past five weeks, I've been confined to my room constantly. Only once a week, though not even always, did I leave my room for consultations on my master's thesis. Besides that, I was still out of my room for those moments when, every so often, I had to do shopping, or when I was driving back to my city from my family's house, or when I was returning from the city to my house. That was all.
While writing this post, I noticed that I haven't had a single interaction with another human being this year. Not a single one...
No one even spoke to me, no one even approached me, no one even laughed with me. No one. Not even once. I'm talking about students here. Out of 160 people, after five years of studying together, there wasn't a single person I could approach and strike up a conversation with, who wanted to talk to me, who would message me, who wanted to be my friend, who wanted me to be part of their group...
Outside of college, of course, it's just as bad. Both in real life and online. I'm so autistic that I can't make friends with anyone even online. There's not a single thing I can do in real life, not a single community or group I belong to or could join, not a single event I could participate in, not a single activity I could do with another person. Not a single person I could do anything with. Despite my mental state, I'd be able to do anything in real life. It's not that I don't do anything because I'm depressed and therefore don't want anything, but if I didn't have depression, I'd do everything. I want to do everything. But I can't do anything because of my situation. Almost nothing that happens in the real world is even theoretically possible for me, and the one or two things that were theoretically possible and that I tried to do also turned out to be impossible because they didn't work. No one will understand what autism means to a person. No one will understand what looking repulsive means to a person. No one understands what it means when interaction with another person doesn't work. No one understands what it means when you can't talk to anyone, when you can't even try to be friends with someone, because nothing ever works...
Even my very short shopping trips always involved observing other wonderful, beautiful, joyful people, while I was their complete opposite... But today I had to go out again, and unfortunately, for a longer time. At first, I only went out for a moment, and even for that moment, I had to observe all those people again – on the street, at the tram stop, on the way to university… Then for another few hours on the streets and in the shops… This time, there were too many of them to remember them specifically, as I always do. To list them in a thread, as I was capable of.
But why can't I be that gorgeous-looking girl in a beautiful blue blouse, with curly brown hair and bangs, smoking a cigarette with three friends outside the café...? Or one of those three beautiful girls, one dressed in Lolita attire, the other in white makeup with black eyeliner and lipstick, and the third with pink hair... Or one of those two girls with dyed blonde hair. Or that girl with the beautiful face and the blouse cut at an angle. Or that girl with a beautiful face working in the store. Or that girl at the crosswalk in the crop top and ruffled mini skirt. Or any of dozens of other such wonderful people I still remember right now, whom I met on the street today.
Groups of friends walking together. Couples walking together. Even people walking alone, but representing the complete opposite of who I am. Every other person smoking a cigarette, every other person triggering me with it. I could never be one of those three girls smoking outside the store... Or that girl with black curly hair and beautiful face and eyes whose male friend returned her lighter... Or be the girl with dyed hair. Or the piercing. Or the tattoos. Or dressed in some avant-garde way.
These images are so utterly painful, so utterly unbearable, that I can no longer even adequately strong feel the suffering and pain emanating from them...
In a way, this was the last time in my life that I was outside my room, that I was on the streets, that I saw all these people. These are my last days in the big city. Everything points to Monday being the end of my long stay there. I'll be there once more, for my final exam, and once again, for my graduation, if my family will likely force me to attend. But that will be the end.
My stay in such a supposedly wonderful place will be over forever. I'll be forever locked in my room in my home village, where I'll never be able to even see another human being, let alone interact with them.
For all those people I indirectly met today, this city, their lives, is the source of so much happiness...
For me, it's the source of nothing but terrible suffering and pain...
Nothing can be changed. Nothing can be changed. I can't be helped. I can't help myself. There's really nothing I can do...
I feel nothing...
It's no wonder I have to fight so hard to get into cigarettes to feel anything and ruin my life with a serious addiction, since I feel nothing.
Did I really deserve for something like this to happen to me? Did I really deserve for everyone at my university to treat me this way? Did I really deserve to be born this way, so that everyone who met me on the street wouldn't even see me as a human being?
