Let’s talk about the toxicity. It’s everywhere.
It’s in the dogma that demands we be “us vs. them.” It’s in the slow, methodical, mind-killing drip of social media that robs us of our self-esteem and makes us look in the mirror with self-hatred.
And this is the result: a profound, epidemic-level loneliness.
We’ve all experienced it. You think you have friends. You have a phone full of numbers that never calls, never texts, unless it’s a bill or an appointment. You reach out, and you’re met with a quiet reply, and then more silence. I have no room in anyone’s life.
And the only place many of them will interact? Facebook. A platform that, like so many other addictive things, I’ve lost interest in. Once the interest is gone, it’s gone. The depression and loneliness kick in.
People are busy. I get it. They have lives.
But that’s a comfortable excuse. The truth is, they had time for you before. Now, they’re just buying into newer friendships, and the old ones are no longer worth the time. So they “ghost.”
It’s lazy. It’s selfish. It’s a pathetic, cowardly way to treat another human being. And it’s a failure to understand the cost.
This is where a mind like mine, the “translator,” has to do the difficult work. For someone on the spectrum, trust is not a small thing. It’s a heavy, deliberate investment. Respect for what that friendship means, and what it costs an autistic person when it’s lost, is a concept many people cannot grasp.
So, we learn. We see the patterns. We “pre-grieve” the loss. We process the facts of the abandonment before it’s final, which makes us seem emotionless to the observers who are there in the moment. They think it’s a superpower. It’s not. It’s a trauma response, a necessary, calorie-burning coping mechanism for a brain that is already in overdrive.
But here’s the lesson. Here’s the change. I’ve learned to embrace my isolation. It’s a true test of my capacity to continue to learn, to grow, in a place where there are no teachers.
And I’m no longer angry about it. I just… see it for what it is. I can smile quietly when I see that person for the first time in months. And I know, deep down, this will probably be the last time. I can walk away, knowing exactly what they squandered.
Many of us know this feeling. We know the investment it takes to try and keep a friend. And so few understand what a real friendship costs when it leaves. Some of us, the abandoned, the “difficult” ones, have finally gained the ability to truly embrace that silence.
And for those of you who are the “ghosts”? Some of you will, one day, find out what this loneliness truly feels like. And I’ll be the one walking out that door we walked into together, leaving you behind.