Dollhouse

Part of waking up to the pain of loss was also waking up to my autism getting in the way of playing the social game right, and that being the reason for my friendship history being so abysmal. I can't fake and pretend, I can't live lies, I can't ignore discrepancies and inconsistencies. I question everything, and I make social interaction so awkward for other people. I didn't realize for years how I affected people around me everywhere I went. I seem to have a charismatic personality, and people seem drawn to me, yet I can't keep deeper relationships, I can't seem to keep trust, and sooner or later, friends either slipped away and shut down contact or outright let me know we couldn't be friends any more without telling me why.

Years of never having proper closure doesn't mean much to someone who is emotionally shut down, but waking up to an abyss of not getting desperately needed answers during no closure nearly did me in. I begged my doctor to send me to a psychologist down the hall, and my very first statement walking in was I need help talking to people. Obviously I could talk heads off, and obviously I metaphorically eventually killed every contact, so obviously I wasn't doing something right. Honestly, I would never have sought out that help if I hadn't felt like I was desperate to know why I was hurting so badly from another loss. That had never happened before. I had been given leads in this friendship to follow and adapt, and even when I tried I just couldn't. The very thing I'd rebelled against my entire life had beaten me down, and from this loss event I surged into deeper writings about self, masks, social solutions- years of public blogging that have given me a deep lurker cult following. As I have agonized and learned, others have watched and kept pushing me out into my little spotlight.