The sidelines of sadness.

Learning to cheerlead all my emotions, like a Pixar cartoon of acceptance.

Sometimes, I write an essay and then I re-read it and think to myself, well that’s too sad, I can’t share that. When I share feelings with other people, I put so much pressure on myself to make the sad parts bite size and easily digestible.¹ I don’t know, maybe I’m still learning how to be a person. I am very good at excavating joy underneath piles of shit. And sometimes, I cry so much my eyes are swollen the next day. It’s a balance. Maybe I’m still afraid that if I talk too long, I’ll get sent to the loony bin. Maybe I’m afraid that no one really cares, and if they say they care - they’re lying, out of politeness, or shame, or guilt, or something else. Sometimes, I think about making a spreadsheet for all my conversations with all my friends, like an emotional budget. I just don’t want to go over my allotted spending. Maybe I’ve been told too many times to save this or that for my therapist, and I don’t really know what that means, so I err on the side of caution. I don’t really know how to lean on other people anymore, so I tell the stories with happy endings, even though not all stories have happy endings, even though some stories are just in the middle, even though I think it’s worth telling all kinds of stories, even though I’m excited to hear whatever my loved ones have to share, whether it’s black or white or grey, or purple with green polka dots.

I hate texting. I hate phone calls. I hate emails. I don’t really hate any of these things, and also I do - and I still don’t know how to communicate with people and have it feel good. I am so anxious for so much of my life. Overthinking is my baseline. In writing this, I got lost in a rabbit hole of Good Place clips, and honestly no one has portrayed my anxiety on screen better than Chidi.² I have a regular zoom call with a friend, and I just added another zoom call with another friend to my calendar. Being social in short bursts feels good, although sometimes I watch the zoom clock in the right hand corner like an anxious hawk. I’m afraid I’m going to say the wrong thing. I’m afraid that I’ll scare people off, or push people away. I’m afraid that I’m obnoxious and off-putting and I talk too much, and my emotions are too big - so I overcompensate and I make myself small; but a friend called me emotionally withholding a couple of weeks ago, and so being small isn’t great either. Holding back doesn’t help my relationships either.

I got ghosted by a friend in February. I double texted and triple texted and quadruple texted, and this person is still active on Instagram³, but just not present in my life. And that happens, people grow apart, and I take it so personally because I care, and I like being a person who cares but also it hurts. Sometimes people don't text back right away because they're busy, or they didn't notice the text or they don't have anything to say and that's okay, it’s okay to have conversational space - we used to send letters and how long did someone have to wait on that response? - but sometimes people don't text back because they just don't like you and they don’t know how to say that and I don't know the difference and I'm afraid to miss subtle hints but I'm also enraged that people communicate in this quiet and passive aggressive way, and if I’m being totally honest, I’m working on letting go of my need to understand subtle hints, if someone doesn’t want to communicate with me openly and honestly and directly, then I guess they just don’t get to communicate with me; and I try not to read anything into anything but sometimes I feel like I'm missing everything and maybe also I don't, because I see things that other people don’t see - all the time, and because even though the DSM loudly proclaims that I'm the one that struggles with communication - isn't communication supposed to be between two people and therefore doesn't that mean that one person can't be bad at it?⁴

One time a therapist told me that everyone isn't going to like me because I'm weird and maybe that should not be a thing that therapists say or maybe she's just being honest and maybe I have terrible luck with therapists or maybe it's pretty common that people say one thing and I hear something else or maybe that's common with everyone because we all put the filter of our own experiences over everything. And anyway, I am weird, and I’ve become oddly okay with that over the past three years, really truly - I like who I’m becoming; but I’m still really scared that being myself is a life sentence of loneliness. I’m lonely, and I’m scared. And it’s okay to be lonely, and it’s okay to be scared, and it’s okay to be sad. And - also - it’s okay to be happy, and it’s okay to be hopeful, and it’s okay to stay curious, if not optimistic, about the future. It’s okay to take it one day at a time, and it’s okay to tell stories that are just getting started. And it’s okay if I didn’t make you laugh, even though I like to think I did.

1. And funny. For God’s sake, if I’m sad - at least let me stay funny.

2. Spoilers and also this is perfect.

3. More on how if I love you, I’ve googled your obituary - later.

4. Autism mic drop moment.