KuriGohan&Kamehameha
想死不能 - 想活不能
- Nov 23, 2020
- 1,700
Time is supposed to heal all wounds, supposedly. But does it? Sometimes, then others it feels like you develop a burning nostalgia for what's gone.
I've heard people say that around 7 years of friendship is when the connection starts feeling long-term/permanent. Losing someone I was friends with for around 6 to 7 years was a hard blow I still haven't gotten over to this day, especially when you think about how that person is still existing out there and having a life of their own that you simply aren't a part of anymore.
I'll call this particular friend Liz, for the sake of convenience and clarity amidst this rambling. As most people know, I'm autistic and this meant that I struggled throughout childhood to make friends, wasn't guided on when certain topics of conversation were innapropriate, etc. Where I grew up was incredibly rural and isolated from the rest of the world, and there was no support for disabled children whatsoever unless you required complete assistance in every aspect of life/severe intellectual disability.
I got bullied severely, not just by one or two people but entire groups and even teachers because they were not trained on how to deal with an autistic child. Finally, I got to go to another school far away- since there was only one school where I grew up- due to the fact the bullying was completely inescapable. I had never met another person who was outcast like me before this. When I was 12, I made friends for the first time in my life, one of which was Liz.
All of my childhood, I had yearned for another girl to be friends with. A huge struggle for autistic women and girls is that we often still have a great deal of wanting to socialise, like NT women, but don't get an outlet to fulfill these needs which contributes to a profound sense of isolation, as being skilled at socializing is something expected of you as a woman.
There were issues with the friendship, but in my entire life I don't think there has been a person I connected with more than Liz. We had very similar interests, and she was incredibly creative, funny, and just a very unique sort of individual that you don't come across very often- if ever.
For once, I could talk about my interest without fear of judgement. She introduced me to so many different sorts of music and media that I still listen to or watch to this day. She drove me to be better than what I was. There were so many inside jokes that only the two of us shared between ourselves, and if I tried to share this with another soul, they wouldn't understand.
It was probably no surprise that a few years later when we became teenagers, I fell in love with her. Being gay is incredibly frowned upon where I grew up, and even before this we frequently got harassed by other kids accusing us of being f slur constantly. It is not uncommon for people to cut off LGBT relatives there. My entire family hated me when they realised I was not straight. Liz's family also would have hated her if they'd known. Yet, it was something I could not help, nor did I wish to change it despite desperately wanting to feel normal and not being harassed or looked down on all of the time. It's amazing how much the world at large has changed since I was growing up and how wonderful it is now that many teenagers do not have to live in fear like I did when they realize they are drawn to the same gender.
I later realised that I was bisexual but for most of my youth I thought I was a lesbian, since I was exclusively attracted to other women for years. There were practically no other LGBT people at my school, but I learned that Liz was. We never ended up dating, but I told her that I liked her at some point in high school. Perhaps, I should have seen the warning signs before that. When we were younger, playing in the gymnasium during school, she would get violent with me during some of the sports and games to the point of injury, where I'd be coming home with bruises up my legs and arms.
She was incredibly emotionally unstable once we hit high school, and it was not uncommon when we had an exam or assignment grade given to us during classes for her to get up and go around the room interrogating people about their grades. Several times she would cry if anyone got higher than her. Once we had a subject exam at the end of the year (similar to A-levels) so there was intense stakes and pressure. She burst out into tears in the deathly silent room but the invigilator did not intervene and she continued to cry for a solid 15 minutes.
Like me, Liz came from an abusive home, mostly emotional abuse from her mother. However, in some way she was also attached to her mother and would tell her things, then report back to me that her mother hates me, finds me disgusting, and a bad influence because I came from an abusive home, even though I was incredibly polite around her. The fact that I was one of the have nots just disgusted her, even though she worked with vulnerable people.
One time on a school trip, her mother went along and forced me to count small coin change in front of a waiter because my family didn't give me enough money, she refused to even buy me a bite to eat but had no trouble doing it for others. It was very humiliating to constantly be put down by a grown 45 year old woman for no reason as a 13 year old child. She also seemed to torment Liz to the point of her daughter being suicidal. It got bad enough to the point where Liz would say loudly at school that she was going to self harm and wants to kill herself because of her mom. She would be forced to do extreme sports including running as a punishment by the mother until she fell ill.
This continued to the point where it was seriously worrying, and if she had continued I think the school would have intervened. I was living with foster parents at the time and my foster mother (a formal social worker) wanted to report Liz's mother to social care for child abuse. My foster sister filed an anonymous tip, with me in the room, in hopes that our friend would not succumb to the abuse and attempt ctb. This turned out to be the absolute worst mistake of my life. Now, I had confessed my feelings to Liz months before this, and while we didn't end up dating, we had kissed each other, cuddled, not fully had sex but I did some more intimate touching with her on one occasion. During these times I think we were both nervous (and terrified of being caught and outed as gay, but I think I tried to be reassuring and she never told me she didn't like what we were doing, and even wanted more attention from me after).
Liz was furious when a support worker came to talk to her and immediately threw a fit in school claiming someone had made up egregious, terrible lies about her mother and how dare they do this. She wanted to know who was responsible. My foster sister lied and said I made the report, to this day she had not told the truth in any capacity and allowed this lie to linger for 10 years. In retaliation, Liz began telling everyone at school that I sexually assaulted and raped her. This was an extremely low blow because right as I was starting high school an older guy at school started molesting me, everyone knew about the case and few believed me as the guy in question was very popular and well liked. So now I was being outed, labeled as a creepy abuser, and having my own trauma thrown in my face.
My sister did not defend me and allowed Liz to slander me so they could remain close friends. It took several months before Liz would speak to me again, and she admitted the entire time I was fancying her she was sexting another girl online and was dating her. I tried to forgive her, and for several years we remained friends, though I could always tell she had a lower opinion of me and thought herself better. Yet, anything I would do Liz would follow suit. She always had to compete with me in academics, and also, when I began struggling with gender identity issues, she suddenly did too and tried to make a contest of who had it the worst. Whenever I started developing health issues I think she mocked me and thought I was being dramatic. One time she said something along the lines of she hated seeing me do anything better than her, as if I were a rival.
In early adulthood we lived in the same area, Liz no longer identifies as female at that point and so I will use they now. Liz continued to talk shit about me to their mom, and said I could not be housemates with them because their mother despised me. They actually ended up living with a Wehraboo who didn't clean or shower, and was obsessed with Hitler and WW2 over me. It completely floored me. However, they were treating me better than high school and I was beginning to feel like things were good between us again. Around this time, I was hurting a lot internally, because a good friend of mine I looked up to a lot suddenly ctb, but Liz didn't know this I think. One day, out of nowhere, they started to pretend like I didn't exist. If they saw me in public, they would turn their head away, or ignore me if I called out to them. Subsequently, they blocked me on everything. It's been 6 years and they still have not unblocked me. I will never know why.
At this point, I really should be over it. Out of curiosity, I searched for Liz online the other day and found their professional accolades, they have a prestigious career now. I desperately want to talk to them and get closure on this entire matter but I can't because they blocked me. Years later, I just miss my friend. The first person I ever had a crush on and who showed me it was okay for me to like other women. Whenever I spoke to my foster sister about this a year ago, I don't think she really cared and said something about how "I probably remind them of awful days when they were closeted about their gender and struggling with it" but this is just bs because for a lot of the time that I knew them, this wasn't a concern.
I know that they have their own issues, and that I'm probably romanticising and looking back on something bad with rose-tinted glasses, but even when I've moved on with my life I find myself missing those days and Liz from time to time. On so many occasions, I will see something and think of them, or my foster family who I've similarly lost favor with, and feel gutted because I can't share this with them and only have a memory of how things were 10 years ago. I desperately wish I could go back in time and undo all of it.
Similarly but not, there's been another person I've been close to for over 5 years now, mostly online but we have spent a palpable amount of time together in person. At one point I would probably consider this individual my best friend. He was someone I aspired to be like in many ways. We are both autistic, but he had speech therapy at an early age and is extremely good at masking. In university, he lived in a party house and was going out every night having the time of his life. Growing up in the middle of nowhere, having pretty much no friends except Liz and my sister, nothing to do, never being invited to anything, this sort of lifestyle was enthralling when I was 20 and had been deprived of the entire teenage experience.
Because of my chronic illnesses though, it was difficult to keep up each time I visited and he did some pretty insensitive things that hurt me. We probably hurt each other a lot. Recently, he admitted that he seeks out people better than him and insinuated that I am some kind of loser. Yet, I just wanted to have a taste of the world that he lived in. To be confident, to be busy all the time, to know what to say to people, to hear good music and watch memorable films, to have fun, and enjoy myself.
Some of the few good moments I've ever had were spent talking shite at the pub at 2 am, meeting lots of people, walking home drunk and laughing. Or getting high and watching movies, finding new music, waking up the next day and cooking and then walking as much as my legs will let me. I know this life is off limits to me and that I was not good enough to deserve it, but I think I will always feel regret that I never got to truly live like he has for anything other than small snippets of a couple days out of every year. Some people may find it shallow but that is the lifestyle that makes me happy, I love socialising and partying but my autism, PTSD, and physical health problems impede me.
Mourning for the life I could never have is something I can't really get over. The lack of true teenage years and the lost friends, besides all my family being gone. There were many formative experienced that I missed out on and so many ways that I was delayed compared to my peers. I think there are some things we truly never get over. Now that I'm in my mid 20s, the time has passed for most of these things.
I've heard people say that around 7 years of friendship is when the connection starts feeling long-term/permanent. Losing someone I was friends with for around 6 to 7 years was a hard blow I still haven't gotten over to this day, especially when you think about how that person is still existing out there and having a life of their own that you simply aren't a part of anymore.
I'll call this particular friend Liz, for the sake of convenience and clarity amidst this rambling. As most people know, I'm autistic and this meant that I struggled throughout childhood to make friends, wasn't guided on when certain topics of conversation were innapropriate, etc. Where I grew up was incredibly rural and isolated from the rest of the world, and there was no support for disabled children whatsoever unless you required complete assistance in every aspect of life/severe intellectual disability.
I got bullied severely, not just by one or two people but entire groups and even teachers because they were not trained on how to deal with an autistic child. Finally, I got to go to another school far away- since there was only one school where I grew up- due to the fact the bullying was completely inescapable. I had never met another person who was outcast like me before this. When I was 12, I made friends for the first time in my life, one of which was Liz.
All of my childhood, I had yearned for another girl to be friends with. A huge struggle for autistic women and girls is that we often still have a great deal of wanting to socialise, like NT women, but don't get an outlet to fulfill these needs which contributes to a profound sense of isolation, as being skilled at socializing is something expected of you as a woman.
There were issues with the friendship, but in my entire life I don't think there has been a person I connected with more than Liz. We had very similar interests, and she was incredibly creative, funny, and just a very unique sort of individual that you don't come across very often- if ever.
For once, I could talk about my interest without fear of judgement. She introduced me to so many different sorts of music and media that I still listen to or watch to this day. She drove me to be better than what I was. There were so many inside jokes that only the two of us shared between ourselves, and if I tried to share this with another soul, they wouldn't understand.
It was probably no surprise that a few years later when we became teenagers, I fell in love with her. Being gay is incredibly frowned upon where I grew up, and even before this we frequently got harassed by other kids accusing us of being f slur constantly. It is not uncommon for people to cut off LGBT relatives there. My entire family hated me when they realised I was not straight. Liz's family also would have hated her if they'd known. Yet, it was something I could not help, nor did I wish to change it despite desperately wanting to feel normal and not being harassed or looked down on all of the time. It's amazing how much the world at large has changed since I was growing up and how wonderful it is now that many teenagers do not have to live in fear like I did when they realize they are drawn to the same gender.
I later realised that I was bisexual but for most of my youth I thought I was a lesbian, since I was exclusively attracted to other women for years. There were practically no other LGBT people at my school, but I learned that Liz was. We never ended up dating, but I told her that I liked her at some point in high school. Perhaps, I should have seen the warning signs before that. When we were younger, playing in the gymnasium during school, she would get violent with me during some of the sports and games to the point of injury, where I'd be coming home with bruises up my legs and arms.
She was incredibly emotionally unstable once we hit high school, and it was not uncommon when we had an exam or assignment grade given to us during classes for her to get up and go around the room interrogating people about their grades. Several times she would cry if anyone got higher than her. Once we had a subject exam at the end of the year (similar to A-levels) so there was intense stakes and pressure. She burst out into tears in the deathly silent room but the invigilator did not intervene and she continued to cry for a solid 15 minutes.
Like me, Liz came from an abusive home, mostly emotional abuse from her mother. However, in some way she was also attached to her mother and would tell her things, then report back to me that her mother hates me, finds me disgusting, and a bad influence because I came from an abusive home, even though I was incredibly polite around her. The fact that I was one of the have nots just disgusted her, even though she worked with vulnerable people.
One time on a school trip, her mother went along and forced me to count small coin change in front of a waiter because my family didn't give me enough money, she refused to even buy me a bite to eat but had no trouble doing it for others. It was very humiliating to constantly be put down by a grown 45 year old woman for no reason as a 13 year old child. She also seemed to torment Liz to the point of her daughter being suicidal. It got bad enough to the point where Liz would say loudly at school that she was going to self harm and wants to kill herself because of her mom. She would be forced to do extreme sports including running as a punishment by the mother until she fell ill.
This continued to the point where it was seriously worrying, and if she had continued I think the school would have intervened. I was living with foster parents at the time and my foster mother (a formal social worker) wanted to report Liz's mother to social care for child abuse. My foster sister filed an anonymous tip, with me in the room, in hopes that our friend would not succumb to the abuse and attempt ctb. This turned out to be the absolute worst mistake of my life. Now, I had confessed my feelings to Liz months before this, and while we didn't end up dating, we had kissed each other, cuddled, not fully had sex but I did some more intimate touching with her on one occasion. During these times I think we were both nervous (and terrified of being caught and outed as gay, but I think I tried to be reassuring and she never told me she didn't like what we were doing, and even wanted more attention from me after).
Liz was furious when a support worker came to talk to her and immediately threw a fit in school claiming someone had made up egregious, terrible lies about her mother and how dare they do this. She wanted to know who was responsible. My foster sister lied and said I made the report, to this day she had not told the truth in any capacity and allowed this lie to linger for 10 years. In retaliation, Liz began telling everyone at school that I sexually assaulted and raped her. This was an extremely low blow because right as I was starting high school an older guy at school started molesting me, everyone knew about the case and few believed me as the guy in question was very popular and well liked. So now I was being outed, labeled as a creepy abuser, and having my own trauma thrown in my face.
My sister did not defend me and allowed Liz to slander me so they could remain close friends. It took several months before Liz would speak to me again, and she admitted the entire time I was fancying her she was sexting another girl online and was dating her. I tried to forgive her, and for several years we remained friends, though I could always tell she had a lower opinion of me and thought herself better. Yet, anything I would do Liz would follow suit. She always had to compete with me in academics, and also, when I began struggling with gender identity issues, she suddenly did too and tried to make a contest of who had it the worst. Whenever I started developing health issues I think she mocked me and thought I was being dramatic. One time she said something along the lines of she hated seeing me do anything better than her, as if I were a rival.
In early adulthood we lived in the same area, Liz no longer identifies as female at that point and so I will use they now. Liz continued to talk shit about me to their mom, and said I could not be housemates with them because their mother despised me. They actually ended up living with a Wehraboo who didn't clean or shower, and was obsessed with Hitler and WW2 over me. It completely floored me. However, they were treating me better than high school and I was beginning to feel like things were good between us again. Around this time, I was hurting a lot internally, because a good friend of mine I looked up to a lot suddenly ctb, but Liz didn't know this I think. One day, out of nowhere, they started to pretend like I didn't exist. If they saw me in public, they would turn their head away, or ignore me if I called out to them. Subsequently, they blocked me on everything. It's been 6 years and they still have not unblocked me. I will never know why.
At this point, I really should be over it. Out of curiosity, I searched for Liz online the other day and found their professional accolades, they have a prestigious career now. I desperately want to talk to them and get closure on this entire matter but I can't because they blocked me. Years later, I just miss my friend. The first person I ever had a crush on and who showed me it was okay for me to like other women. Whenever I spoke to my foster sister about this a year ago, I don't think she really cared and said something about how "I probably remind them of awful days when they were closeted about their gender and struggling with it" but this is just bs because for a lot of the time that I knew them, this wasn't a concern.
I know that they have their own issues, and that I'm probably romanticising and looking back on something bad with rose-tinted glasses, but even when I've moved on with my life I find myself missing those days and Liz from time to time. On so many occasions, I will see something and think of them, or my foster family who I've similarly lost favor with, and feel gutted because I can't share this with them and only have a memory of how things were 10 years ago. I desperately wish I could go back in time and undo all of it.
Similarly but not, there's been another person I've been close to for over 5 years now, mostly online but we have spent a palpable amount of time together in person. At one point I would probably consider this individual my best friend. He was someone I aspired to be like in many ways. We are both autistic, but he had speech therapy at an early age and is extremely good at masking. In university, he lived in a party house and was going out every night having the time of his life. Growing up in the middle of nowhere, having pretty much no friends except Liz and my sister, nothing to do, never being invited to anything, this sort of lifestyle was enthralling when I was 20 and had been deprived of the entire teenage experience.
Because of my chronic illnesses though, it was difficult to keep up each time I visited and he did some pretty insensitive things that hurt me. We probably hurt each other a lot. Recently, he admitted that he seeks out people better than him and insinuated that I am some kind of loser. Yet, I just wanted to have a taste of the world that he lived in. To be confident, to be busy all the time, to know what to say to people, to hear good music and watch memorable films, to have fun, and enjoy myself.
Some of the few good moments I've ever had were spent talking shite at the pub at 2 am, meeting lots of people, walking home drunk and laughing. Or getting high and watching movies, finding new music, waking up the next day and cooking and then walking as much as my legs will let me. I know this life is off limits to me and that I was not good enough to deserve it, but I think I will always feel regret that I never got to truly live like he has for anything other than small snippets of a couple days out of every year. Some people may find it shallow but that is the lifestyle that makes me happy, I love socialising and partying but my autism, PTSD, and physical health problems impede me.
Mourning for the life I could never have is something I can't really get over. The lack of true teenage years and the lost friends, besides all my family being gone. There were many formative experienced that I missed out on and so many ways that I was delayed compared to my peers. I think there are some things we truly never get over. Now that I'm in my mid 20s, the time has passed for most of these things.
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