With Aspergers, feelings are usually intense or non-existent. You’re either not into something, or you’re so deeply into it that life without it seems pointless. The same goes for people. You don’t connect with people very easily, but once you do, you end up scaring them away. You become obsessed with love interests, and you become too attached and dependent in relationships. You’re told you’re too intense, too needy, you’re just too much. You’re madly in love with them. Once you feel like they understand you, they become everything to you. When you think you have a mutual understanding of things, when you read something wrong, no matter how minor, it feels like your world is falling apart. It’s because they a huge part of your world, a world you feel you have an understanding of, so any uncertainty can threaten the entire existence of that world. The world that you thought you knew, your comforts, suddenly become alien, and you feel so lost.
Of course, it can not be ignored that this is a lot of pressure for the other person, but when things start falling down, it is devastating. You’re told you’re catastrophising, you’re overreacting, you’re told to “chill out”. You’re fighting panic attacks, your body reacts to this intense anxiety by sending your stomach into turmoil. If only they knew how much you wish you could switch off these emotions, how much you wish that you weren’t feeling like this. If only they knew that you hate yourself for being like this.
All you wanted to do was love them, make them happy and enjoy their company. All you wanted from them was understanding and love. You’re madly in love with them, you’re devoted to them, and you are probably the most loyal, loving person they could ever meet. Surely that should be enough to make things work. It was enough yesterday, so why isn’t it today?
You crave to be held in their arms, safe, back in your world. You don’t know where you are right now and you want to scream and run away. Everything becomes unbearable; the noises in the background become deafening, the seams of your clothes rub away at your skin, the ends of your hair scratch your face and neck so you tie it in a bun, then you feel it wobble with every slight movement. You can smell every cleaning product you’ve ever used in your house, you can smell the unscented washing powder that you washed your clothes in, even though you ran them through an extra rinse cycle. You forget how to breathe, you can’t see anything, just flashing colours. You want to run away from this world. You scream to escape from the sensory overload. You’re told to stop being like this, but if only they knew how much you wish you weren’t this way. All you want is to understand this world.
Later, you’re calmer, but you’re feeling heartbroken. You feel like you’re not good enough for this world, you know you’re not good enough for this person. All you wanted to do was make them happy and love them with all your heart, but it’s not enough, because you’re too much. How can you continue to put this pressure, this expectation on someone you love? How can you expect someone to understand you when it’s too difficult to verbally communicate your feelings? But to lose them would be the end of the world as you know it.