Alien | feelings of emptiness and isolation

Content warning; mention of past thoughts of suicide, detailed PTSD symptoms, depression.

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I'm not sure if it's just gotten worse from living in isolation, but I feel like an alien in any environment, online or offline, around anyone. Even those in my own communities.

I remember when it hit me the hardest. A few years ago during the pandemic, I lost a group of friends due to several unfortunate reasons. I didn't yet know I was AuDHD — autistic and ADHD — so I was confused at the level of anger I received after a period of silence, especially since I'd reached out to apologize after contacting someone else to understand what was going on. It stressed me out that others were telling me what my intentions were, what I was feeling, and what all of my actions meant when it did not align with how I truly felt. I realized I'd hurt others' feelings, and I felt terrible about it. I was accused of talking about my mental health for attention and sympathy.

On social media and in my blogs, for my own journey and for the sake of being visible for mental health awareness, I spoke vaguely about past abusive relationships I'd been in. I worry many blog entries were misunderstood, or assumptions were made since I was told I was lying. I went back through my blog and the entries about my life, and I was always honest about how I felt. I wrote about what I observed with my own eyes, what I felt based on those observations, and if I got some of it wrong, I wish someone would have reached out to let me know. No one had said anything, so I had no idea anyone was sitting so long with anger toward me. No one had tried to message me to ask for clarification. Everyone had acted like everything was fine.

I realize, too, I could have communicated better and written more clearly, and I know that now. I tend to flub social situations often, and despite being a writer, I'm terrible at communicating my feelings when I'm in the moment. I can come off as cold, too formal, or I tend to say the wrong thing without realizing it is the wrong thing until it's too late. I have asked questions or made apologies only to to be told the way I did it was too suspicious or not the correct way, and I'm left confused because I was being genuine.

That moment from a few years ago still cycles in my head. My counselor said I was experiencing a trauma response from it. I'd been coping with the first real PTSD symptoms I'd ever had, and I lost the ability to speak some days and dealt with intense dissociation and cognitive issues. It was the result of emerging symptoms from previous traumas and more intense feelings of guilt, self-hatred, and anxiety. The situation amped up what had already been happening for months; I had vivid hallucinations of past abusers while thinking I'd become one of them, night terrors that robbed me of sleep, I attempted to starve myself because I felt so guilty about being such an oblivious asshole, and I made detailed plans to end my life so I couldn't make the same mistakes again.

I have closed myself off. I live in isolation by choice not only because of my lingering fears of COVID, but because I never want to experience that kind of pain again. I never want to hurt anyone else again by being so oblivious and careless. I never want to have to sit here, again, and listen to others tell me how I think or feel while any attempt to say otherwise is viewed as manipulative.

I'm no longer able to date. I am lonely romantically, but when I try, my emotions flatline and I just delete everything. I have tried to join communities and group chats, but I become extremely anxious and feel paralyzed. I worry what I have to say will be viewed as strange, rude, or inappropriate. There are so many messages and comments I'd started to send to attempt to be social, but I deleted and forgot about them instead because I feared they were weird or not the right thing to say.

I don't know how to make new friends. I remember being told that I'm too honest when I like someone and it comes off as creepy, so I choose to say nothing now or I'm as formal as I can be. I am always anxious because I never want to upset or chase anyone away again, but I've messed up so many friendships by misunderstanding and going off of what I observed too literally, or I didn't know someone was interpreting my actions as extremely negative or mean and I was just sitting here with no fucking clue.

My internal battery is zapped the second I open up social media or chat apps. I see so many cool people I want to make friends with, but I don't know where to begin. A lot of the time, I have no idea what to comment on social media, and I worry my words are robotic and too formal now, and it's possibly assumed I don't want to be friends. I've had that issue mentioned to me by others years ago, that because I was shy and anxious, my body language was read as negative and closed off.

There is also that ghost of a fear that I really am a terrible person. I've heard that some don't think I can change, and that it's foolish to be friends with me. Hearing that hurt more than I can express. Whenever I remember it again, it makes me feel like all of the work I've done in therapy over the past several years means nothing. I feel like I should just accept being alone because what if they're right?

I wish I understood better. I was told that since I'm an adult, I shouldn't have to have my hand held through apologies and social interactions. I try my best to do what I feel is the right thing, especially when I mess up. If you're giving me the silent treatment, I think everything is fine because you're literally not saying anything. If you act like everything is fine when we do talk, then I'm going to assume everything is fine.

Even typing all of this out, I'm anxious. I don't want to be afraid to just be myself and express myself. I don't want to fear myself anymore. I'm tired of finally trying to be confident in myself and then the trolls and transphobes find me when I'm at my most vulnerable, and then I sink back into isolation again after trying to move on and be happy.

I don't really have words to express this emptiness I feel. The gnawing ache of this past mistake that is eating me alive still. The fear that never leaves me that if I don't double-check or scrutinize every single thing I say or do, I might hurt someone again without meaning to. Sometimes I can't stand to look at my face in the mirror because I have learned to hate it again. And it's distressing because I had finally gotten top surgery. I finally had hope that I could love myself, and then that was all just ripped away, and it was my fault.

This isn't life. This isn't living. I know I've accomplished my goal of publishing my first book, I'm working on the second one as well, and I have never stopped writing stories, but I feel like I'm just sitting here watching time go by. Life is going by without me. I'm getting older and my younger years are just behind me now, wasted. Death is just standing in the distance waiting and it's all I see for my future.

I'm not suicidal right now. I hope this doesn't come off that way. I'm just severely depressed and isolated. I live in fear all the time and I realize that if I don't try to have a social life, my writing career will likely go nowhere. Who wants to read books by someone or support someone who is quiet and closed off? They don't know the reason, they just see someone who has this wall around them, and that's not their fault. It's mine.

I need help and I feel lost. I looked into some LGBTQ+ life coaches and mentors, but the cost is in the hundreds and I could never afford it. I just wish there was an accessible mentor or life coach who could help me learn to just live my life and not carefully scrutinize my every move — while living in isolation to protect not only myself, but everyone else.

©2023 Shane Blackheart