My Feelings, My Lovers, and Me
Image Courtesy of Susan Moore
Like lots of autistic people, I grew up a dramatic child. To quote Jane Austen, my “joys, sorrows could have no moderation”. This suited me fine, as my family supported my drastic highs and lows and so did my friends.
As I grew up my emotions evolved, as well as the way I felt about them. This to say, even though I was well acquainted with my multitudes, I started to see that to a degree, they set me apart, and not in a way I liked. I saw how my tears sometimes scared people around me, and how my excitement was at times overwhelming. Simply put, I became afraid of being too much.
Because healing remains obnoxiously nonlinear, I return to the idea of being too much pretty often. I tried to embrace the mess. At best I was a sensitive and emotionally bottomless victim of our cruel patriarchal society that didn’t want AFABs to do anything but smile. At worst, I was Catherine from Wuthering Heights. Like, sure I’m doomed and almost insane, but I’m disastrously passionate and full of ethereal sadness.
However, the reality of being by my standards “too much” became a lot less fun when I got diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder, Anxiety, Autism Spectrum Disorder, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. It was all of a sudden too real. I was no longer “Lanacore” and “Girl, Interruptedesque” - I was mentally ill.
However, even before these diagnoses, I had begun to worry I seriously lacked stability because of the way it was reflected in my previous relationship.
Alec (not his real name) liked chess, singing and had a dry sense of humor. He was soft spoken, moderate, and only similar to me in the regard that we both were trying very hard to make dating each other work. My roommate has since gone on the record to say that he did not deserve me, and while I like to bask in this sentiment, I didn’t deserve him either. Maybe a better way to put it is we were as bad, or at least not good, for each other.
Our relationship had consisted of a series of me being either too sad or too jumpy and excitable, all while Alec tried his best to take care of me and failed to keep up with my highs and lows. He hadn’t even wanted a relationship, just companionship whenever it was convenient for him. He didn’t want to go on dates or have long conversations, and these failings made my moderate days disappointing. Like, I don’t want to die for the first time this week, why can’t we go out? That being said, I wanted a relationship, but having one was probably more than I was ready for in that period of my life and we both suffered for it.
The whole time Alec and I dated, I felt in my gut that we were barely working as a couple. However, instead of taking this information as a sign of a mutual lack of maturity and compatibilty, I worried that it meant I was too deranged to maintain a romantic connection. Maybe that’s why we dated for just shy of 6 months instead of 6 weeks, because I was determined to fix myself and by extension, fix us.
When we finally broke up, I mourned the lost potential more than anything. I really really wanted something sweet and simple with Alec, and it had once seemed plausible. I met him, liked the idea of him, and thought that our relationship would certainly look how I thought it would be. The kicker is, I’m pretty sure his expectations were the same as mine. He liked the idea of cooking with me, making tea with me, watching movies, and roller skating. So if we both had this idea, why did it fail? Why was our quality time watching endless YouTube on his TV saying nothing instead of popping popcorn and kissing and laughing????
I mean, this reason is because, again, we were not compatible and he had no desire to actually do these things, but I was very very afraid that my long, yet to be named list of ailments were to blame. I had not only ruined the life of this sweet man, but I was doomed to continue the pattern for the rest of my cursed existence.
When I got my test results back, I considered sharing my results with Alec. Partially because he was the reason I actually went through with the testing in the first place. He had seen my catastrophizing, hyperfixations, sensory issues, and social anxiety as things that required attention, more than I was giving them. Partially, because a part of me wanted to show him and say, “I am so so sorry, I really hope this excuses at least some of me”.
Here’s the thing, though - I didn’t ruin Alec’s life any more than he ruined mine. Our relationship wasn’t for nothing and I did deserve love. No particular event made me realize these things, just a lot of time and plenty of space.
With this space I was able to start to look at my emotions objectively, and learn how to deal with them in a way that was healthy and fully realized. I learned how to calm myself down. I was able to realize that my relationship before Alec was pretty healthy, and put together that I obviously wasn’t a blight on all romantic connections. More notable still, I could see that my platonic connections were also in tip top shape. How could I label myself as undeserving of love when I had friends who did so limitlessly?
I might actually be too much, but I am not so for everyone. I am not, for example, too much for myself, but sometimes the world is and that is something I may be navigating for the rest of my life.
I guess the note I want to end things on is the fact that a best friend from high school AND a new friend from the city I live now asked to marry me. Not like, actually, but the old “if we aren’t married by the time we’re 30” deal. I know they are not completely serious, but given the fact they know about my mental ailments, it still means something to me.
My friend from high school, after all, is even keeled and relaxed. He has seen my multitudes and feels comfortable with them. My newer friend, on the other hand, is kind and encouraging. She is also healing, in similar but different ways than me. The fact that she sees me as constant and someone who can help her growth rather than stunt it puts something inside me back together that I didn’t know had fallen apart in the first place.
Even if both of these offers fall through, I know that there are people out there who love me.
I am confident this will always be the case.
Written by Susan Moore
Writer
Hi, I’m Susan. You may have seen my work before in Darling Magazine’s fashion section and Tonitruale’s music column.
When I’m not writing, I can be found watching documentaries with my roommates, listening to audiobooks and drinking drinks that turn my mouth blue.
Photo credit: @bluerosetori