Interesting. Lots to think about and unpack here. As usual, this post sparked many follow-up questions and I need more info, so thanks for the book recommendation.
I wonder if others, like me, decided a long time ago that they just didn’t want to belong, for various reasons, some of which you mentioned and some of which you didn’t. And if that decision was reinforced during a lifetime of meeting people they could not relate to, respect or even like. So they separated themselves because “belonging” just wasn’t possible in this lifetime.
And are others fine with that. Maybe even content.
Because I’ve never met anyone else who thought like me. Of course I wouldn’t have. Because by design and deliberate action we’ve held ourselves apart.
Thank you for taking time to engage with me. I hope other people can join in and give their experiences about if and how separating themselves has brought peace, and maybe even some joy.
And what you said about Autistics needing to control the inputs - yes yes yes.
But I still think it is because the Allistics just don’t know how to listen to anyone but themselves.
I can’t communicate with them because I’m spending so much time explaining and defending and soothing their egos when they get butt hurt over a statement I made that was not a value judgment. Or a question I asked because I needed clarification and they see it as an attack. WTF?
That’s a whole different discussion I suppose. But one thing flows into another.
I was also wondering if others, like me, found positive benefits and contentment in the choice to live as separately as possible from almost all other humans. Not just as a survival mechanism but as a sensible reaction to the hell of other people.
Of course I acknowledge that I am tremendously privileged to even have the choice to avoid humans as much as possible. I’m so very lucky.
My husband says I’m not so much independent as solitary; I want him to meet my needs and then leave me alone. He’s joking. Partly.
But much of this self awareness came after years of ideation and attempts, horrible choices, lots of therapy and medication.
I think we have a lot in common here. I told my partner last night, “I really don’t like humans very much.” I know that sounds harsh, but honestly I’m so content being alone. I don’t want to participate in the hubbub that most people seem to thrive in.
And like you said, I know how much privilege it takes to even recognize that this kind of contentment is possible. So much of my own discontent isn’t about people individually it’s all the social stuff. The constant inputs. The expectations. It’s exhausting.
I just want to control the inputs as much as possible. And I think that’s actually pretty normal for a lot of Autistics.
But at the same time, I do want connection. I love interacting with you and others in the workshop. But part of what makes that sustainable is that it’s asynchronous and online, it gives me space to regulate, to be present on my terms.
Anyway… I’m not sure where I’m going with this, either. Just… I really resonated with what you shared. A lot.
Interesting. Lots to think about and unpack here. As usual, this post sparked many follow-up questions and I need more info, so thanks for the book recommendation.
I wonder if others, like me, decided a long time ago that they just didn’t want to belong, for various reasons, some of which you mentioned and some of which you didn’t. And if that decision was reinforced during a lifetime of meeting people they could not relate to, respect or even like. So they separated themselves because “belonging” just wasn’t possible in this lifetime.
And are others fine with that. Maybe even content.
Because I’ve never met anyone else who thought like me. Of course I wouldn’t have. Because by design and deliberate action we’ve held ourselves apart.
Just a thought.
Thank you for taking time to engage with me. I hope other people can join in and give their experiences about if and how separating themselves has brought peace, and maybe even some joy.
And what you said about Autistics needing to control the inputs - yes yes yes.
But I still think it is because the Allistics just don’t know how to listen to anyone but themselves.
I can’t communicate with them because I’m spending so much time explaining and defending and soothing their egos when they get butt hurt over a statement I made that was not a value judgment. Or a question I asked because I needed clarification and they see it as an attack. WTF?
That’s a whole different discussion I suppose. But one thing flows into another.
Sounds like me.
Rebecca, this hit something deep in me.
There was a time I felt this so intensely I nearly left this planet—twice.
Not because I wanted to die, but because I could no longer bear being unseen in a world that didn't seem built for beings like me.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to belong, I just couldn't keep trying to belong in spaces that made me shrink or split myself apart.
What you said about deliberate separation… yes.
It can be a boundary. A survival mechanism.
But sometimes I think it also becomes the quiet grief we carry.
Thank you for putting words to the paradox of choosing solitude while craving resonance.
You’re not the only one.
I was also wondering if others, like me, found positive benefits and contentment in the choice to live as separately as possible from almost all other humans. Not just as a survival mechanism but as a sensible reaction to the hell of other people.
Of course I acknowledge that I am tremendously privileged to even have the choice to avoid humans as much as possible. I’m so very lucky.
My husband says I’m not so much independent as solitary; I want him to meet my needs and then leave me alone. He’s joking. Partly.
But much of this self awareness came after years of ideation and attempts, horrible choices, lots of therapy and medication.
I think we have a lot in common here. I told my partner last night, “I really don’t like humans very much.” I know that sounds harsh, but honestly I’m so content being alone. I don’t want to participate in the hubbub that most people seem to thrive in.
And like you said, I know how much privilege it takes to even recognize that this kind of contentment is possible. So much of my own discontent isn’t about people individually it’s all the social stuff. The constant inputs. The expectations. It’s exhausting.
I just want to control the inputs as much as possible. And I think that’s actually pretty normal for a lot of Autistics.
But at the same time, I do want connection. I love interacting with you and others in the workshop. But part of what makes that sustainable is that it’s asynchronous and online, it gives me space to regulate, to be present on my terms.
Anyway… I’m not sure where I’m going with this, either. Just… I really resonated with what you shared. A lot.