I can feel the night passing by like a mistake waiting for me Caught up in my feelings, overthink the truth Fantasize you've left me behind

Content warning for mentions of abuse, abuse of power, boundaries, neurodivergence, etc.

whew.

I want to talk about something I have touched on before, and have been thinking about a lot since I saw THIS Instagram post, as well as this one. I want to talk about misreading and being bad at boundaries, and instances in which I have done so--but also how this has been exploited. This is also an off-shoot of the piece I wrote earlier this week.

But first, I think you should read this essay I wrote earlier this year, that poses the question, "am I #ActuallyAutistic?" Short answer: they don't know. I am... neutral about self-diagnosis, and I think there is a lot to be said about the "race to innocence" conversations. I think a lot of the push back that people have been giving towards people who make up symptoms and behave badly. I think this is a both/ and situation--getting a formal diagnosis is a privilege, and there are people who are so desperate to have something that makes them unique and special--as well as above reproach from criticism. Both of these can be true at the same time.

Just to recap, they don't actually know what is wrong with my brain. They know there is a lot happening up there, but they cannot pin point what exactly. My quest for a diagnosis came from wanting to make sense of what was going on up there, and to perhaps fix it, because I am a solutions and taking care of business kind of person. I like to get things done, over with, out of the way. On with life, skipping off into the sunset. One less thing to worry about. In fact, I was not interested in discovering if I were more special or anything like that. In fact, I am not looking for any more intersections, and am quite tired of all of the ones that I do have. The unknown is actually very frustrating, but then I found out after the fact that a formal diagnosis would have prevented me from getting singing contracts in certain countries.

I find that one of the stereotypes of autism, the lack of empathy and borderline sociopathy, is simply not true. I find that most autistics are deeply empathetic and emotional people, who care very deeply about others. I feel as though the Sheldon Cooper-esque figures are more visible--because they are the loudest. I think that those in a certain demographic, one largely the only one they were screening for decades, who are pre-disposed towards a lack of empathy and selfishness (cough) became the face of the condition. In fact, I find that most autistics go above and beyond for people they care about, and do a disproportionate amount of emotional labor the recipient often has done absolutely nothing to warrant.

I want to talk about two other hallmarks of autism: problems with boundaries and lack of understanding social cues.

I think in my case, the lack of understanding of social cues is a little different due to my PTSD; I am hypervigilant, and constantly trying to read subtext in body language to read if a situation is safe. I am pretty intuitive when is comes to body language, emotions and subtext, because I have to, at all times and instances, know if I am safe or not. Of course, this is due to having to deal with volatile people for most of my life, who become unhinged in less than a moment's notice, and never knowing what would set them off on a rampage.  For example, I had an older relative (who would repeatedly storm around the house and rule by mood) belittle me for being an "eggshell person." I know this person wasn't aware that I was (potentially) autistic, but they used to torture me until I cried and then complain that I was "too sensitive." I have moments to assess someone and a situation, casing the scenario in split seconds to understand if I am safe or not. And if someone is not doing well emotionally and trying to hide it, I can always tell, and will try to make them feel better.

In terms of not understanding social cues, I am not oblivious, I just choose to ignore it. I know that you are trying to avoid me (or maybe that's just my brain telling me that, I actually can't tell the difference), I just don't want to believe that it's true. I know, for the most part, people do not care about me the same way that I care about them. I understand that this is who I am.

The other problem is, people blur the lines on purpose.

I've made it no secret, I have spoken on this repeatedly at this point, I have had a history of being bad with boundaries-but this lack of boundaries and understand of boundaries has also been exploited. Read that again. 

Part of the misunderstanding of boundaries absolutely stems from the abuse I suffered, and is, again, a hallmark of having one's own boundaries repeatedly violated. 

The other part of misunderstanding boundaries is dealing with people who repeatedly blur them--on purpose. Read that again. 

I've talked about this before: people letting me think something was okay, but then turning around and lying and saying I was bothering them,  people who made "jokes" about me "stalking" them, but then still enjoying the benefits they got from me (endless emotional labor, free food, PROXIMITY TO MY BREASTS, ETC.). 

It's naïveté, and it's not stupidity. I am very well aware of what's going on at all times, even if I don't say anything. I am constantly making silent assessments. I just also constantly deal with gaslighting, and people telling me I am  having an "over reaction" or "imagining" things that end up later being true.

I will give a very notable example. I recognize, and wholly acknowledge, that I was in the wrong for a huge part of this. Part of this is my fault. I absolutely overstepped my boundaries. However--this person never told me to go away. I need to make this perfectly clear, I was never told to go away. It would have been a vastly different experience had I just been told, "don't come back," or "Melody, go away."

This example was from my early adulthood. I had a falling out with a friend, and this was a very mutually toxic friendship. Because I was such a young person, my friendship with this person was a cornerstone of my life, and I didn't know how to live without them. (I was also still coming down from the issues with the incompatible pysch meds, which effected my brain for years thereafter. It's not an excuse, but it provides context.) Every week, I would bring them lunch at their job on Saturday mornings, which eventually turned into me bringing lunch and/ or cake for everyone else that worked there. Even after I was no longer friends with that person, I would still do this. 

I need to make something explicitly clear: I was never told to go away. No manager ever said, "you need to not come back." No one ever told me not to do this. In fact, quite the opposite was true; and I was made to believe that these people were my friends.

One day, one of the other employees pulled me aside as I was leaving, and told me that everyone there laughed behind my back. That they felt sorry for me. That I was "creepy." They would sit there stuffing their piggy faces with the cake I made once a week, laughing at me after I left that I was "pitiful" and a "loser."

I never made them cake again. But they had the caucasity to complain that their cake supply had run dry.

Looking back on this experience with deep shame and embarrassment nearly 20 years later, upset with myself for having made someone else uncomfortable in any way, I also have to have empathy and compassion for myself for the ways in which I was taken advantage of. Me being bad with boundaries was only a fraction of that story; the part that gets told is that I was "creepy" and hung around there waiting for people, not that my presence there was encouraged, not that they took full advantage of the food I brought, not that they then expected it and became entitled. 

I recognize, acknowledge, and take responsibility for my lack of boundaries, but I will not take on the burden of responsibility  for being exploited. If you're going to tell this story, tell the whole story.

I absolutely believe that these people know exactly what they're doing, and they know that the optics are in their favour. It's why they are so emboldened. Sometimes I am bad with boundaries because I don't know any better, but the people who exploit my boundaries do so on purpose because they do know better and they know what  they can get out of it.

I will give another example of  intentionally blurred boundaries and communication failure. I was constantly being filled up with false promises, which then allowed this person to have proximity and access to my body and personal space that was unheard of. (And, no, it wasn't what you think, although given my personal history of sexual abuse and not letting people into my personal space, it was not harmless). This person had absolutely no problems with blatantly admiring my body (especially my breasts) or standing pressed up against me. Instead of saying, "hey, Melody, I don't like you, stop coming around," I just kept getting filled up with false promises. This person had absolutely no issues with using me as a human security blanket, using me as an ego boost, or blatantly admiring my body. This person had no issues letting me think we were friends, if not maybe even a little more than that. They would later use the power dynamics and optics in their favour to lie. It was deceitful, unconscionable and cruel. It was greedy, selfish, and stupid.

Should I have shown up in as many places as I did or kept pressing the way that I did?  Probably not. (I was also a little pushy because I was worried about them for different reasons.) But, again, the boundaries were blurred on purpose and never once did this person ever tell me to go away. That would have been all I needed. I would have saved myself so much grief (and money) had I just been told I wasn't wanted or needed. But that wasn't the case; in fact, it was always as though the opposite were true. And, sure, maybe I could have communicated better, but how can you even communicate better with someone who won't get help, least of all get out of their own god damn way? (There are a lot of other facets to this that I still don't feel comfortable talking about openly, but maybe someday.)

If you're going to tell this story, tell the whole damn story.

I am better with boundaries now. (My late co-worker and I had this joke that our idea of personal space was outer space.) For as many flaws and as failures as I have, the one thing I will say about me is that I actually deal with my problems; I face things that don't work, and I do that hard work. If I don't like the way that things are, I don't make is someone else's problem--the sooner you deal with it, the sooner it's gone. I over-communicate; there is never any mystery with me, if I like or don't like you, I will let you know, and people are free to appreciate that about me or not. Very famously, it is physically impossible for me to pretend to like someone that I do not, least of all be in the same room as them.

I might not know, and the jury is still out, on whether I am #ActuallyAutistic, but I know that I do have a plethora of hallmarks, symptoms, and traits classically associated with Autism. It is not an excuse for ways that I have behaved or misbehaved, but learning about other Autistic experiences has given my entire life a different prism to be seen through: times when it should have been painfully obvious I had these neurodivergences, and they were misattributed and/ or ignored. All because I was not in the stereotypical Autism demographic.

I do like model trains, though.