I feel so hopelessly, endlessly alone. I have been sitting in the park, crying and smoking. My flatmate is ghosting me, I have no partner, I have no IRL friends who I can go to for support, and the family that I do have wouldn’t even understand why I’m so miserable.
How do I even write a post like this? It can’t be a “cry for help”, because I know there’s nobody to help me. Just like every other last time, I’ll have to pull myself out of the stinking mud, patch myself up, throttle, detain, and excise my pain.
I can’t “build” lasting friendships. I thought I could. I tried making friends with cis people, with neurotypicals, with basically anyone who wasn’t an autistic trans woman. And each and every time, I either pushed the other person away, exhausted from having to mask and perform and forget microaggressions, or they pushed me away.
That’s why my housemate is ghosting me. I was too friendly. Too friendly. I’ve spent my life learning how to smile, how to communicate honestly, directly, and courageously, and the payback is a recoil of disgust. I needed someone I could talk to at home. She was offended that I dared try to make friends, when clearly we didn’t ‘click’.
Of course, this is one sided. It’s unfair speculation. But I’ll probably never know, because she’s not the kind of person who’s ever had to communicate rawly. She can ignore, tolerate, and advise every trans/neurodivergent/”weird” person out of her life.
Because that’s how friendship is supposed to be. You ‘click’ with someone. If you don’t, then you don’t force it, you fucking weirdo, Ari. I’ve clicked, truly clicked, with three people my entire life. One of them is an ex, which ended in a spectacular, messy breakup because I hadn’t learned how to exist unchaotically. We don’t speak. One of them is my best friend from uni, who is halfway across the world and going through their own shit, so they can’t be around online. Another is a recent friend I made on Twitter, who also lives halfway across the world.
I would give anything to be able to make “normal” friends. I’ve striven desperately throughout my life to do just that. And every time it’s ended in resolute failure. I haven’t been able to have a heart to heart, in person, for years. I haven’t been on a date in four or five years now. Haven’t had sex in over two years.
I feel genetically predisposed to die alone. I’ve dragged myself out of the shitheap of depression, got myself into a state where I can hold down a job and survive, even started cleaning, but what’s the fucking point? If I am worthy of love, why is it impossible to find?