Words that I can't say.

A couple of months ago, I wrote a letter to someone close to me. It was simply a cathartic exercise; I never intended for them to actually read it. After some thought, it didn’t sit right with me for the letter to be left to rot on my hard drive. I now include that letter below, albeit heavily censored as it was not written with publication in mind.

These are the words that I can’t say.

Dear ▓▓▓▓▓,

I’m writing this letter under the assumption that you’ll never read this because I have no intention of it ever leaving my MacBook’s hard drive. However, I write this in the hopes that doing so can provide some catharsis. So, here goes…

I ruminate. A lot. I wrote about this extensively on my blog, but the short of it is this: My brain gets stuck. It refuses to let things go, even if it’s something from over a decade ago.

rumination (noun): obsessional thinking involving excessive, repetitive thoughts or themes that interfere with other forms of mental activity. It is a common feature of obsessive-compulsive disorder and generalized anxiety disorder.
APA Dictionary of Psychology

I hate rumination. I don’t have any control over it and I usually feel powerless to stop it. Typically, by the time I realize I’m ruminating it’s too late to do anything about it. I just have to grin-and-bear it, as my brain forces me to relive shit from my past. It sucks.

In ██████████, we’ve joked about ██████████████████████████████████████; how you always remember little things you don’t like and refuse to let them go. Perhaps I’m speaking out-of-turn, but I see some similarities with █████████ and the way my brain works. There are many interactions I’ve had with various people throughout my life that I took as hurtful or negative, and those interactions stick with me years after the fact. I ruminate over them for years and years.

One of the most prominent things I ruminate over are my experiences at ██████████████████. You and ▒▒▒▒▒ (and everyone else, really) never quite understood that whole situation—I don’t blame you, it was one of those things where if you weren’t a part of it, you just weren’t going to be able to properly understand it—but it was traumatic for me. I desperately wish I could say I’ve healed and moved on from it, but I haven’t. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will.

██████ is just one of the things I ruminate about. The other most prominent topic of rumination—perhaps the most prominent—is, well, you. I ruminate about you constantly. So much time was spent discussing you in my therapy sessions last year. My therapist must’ve been horribly bored.

I’ll explain why I ruminate about you, but in order to properly explain this, I need to provide some context. Bear with me.

▓▓▓▓▓, █████████████████████████████████████. You were my hero! There wasn’t a person on this Earth that was cooler than you.

███████████████████████████████████████████████████████. Not only did you introduce me to my longest running passion, but it was also a way that we could connect. I have so many fond memories of us ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████… Yes, I love █████. I really love █████. But these █████, in particular, are special because they hold memories of us.

██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ███████████████████████████████████, but I enjoyed them because we could laugh together. Those ████████████████████████ were the best moments of my day. When ██████ often felt so hostile and uncomfortable, it was everything to be able to end my day laughing with ██████. I cherish those memories.

You like to bring up your memories of me ███████████████████████. I can’t say I actually remember any of that; the memories I do have were constructed from your retelling of it. I can say this, though: ██████████████████. You were the coolest person in the world. █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. In you, I saw a strength and confidence that I didn’t possess in the slightest. You represented something that I strove to one day be.

I looked for opportunities to spend time with you. ████████████████████████████████████████. ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. It was a way that I could connect with you.

Things took a turn once █████████████████████, for both of us. You █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████; I was confronted with a lot of my limits as an Autistic person, although I didn’t know it at the time. Transitions are hard for Autistic people, and ███████████ was one hell of a transition: new ██████, new █████, new ████████, new ██████████, new, new, new… And of course, with ████████████████████████████████████████████████, the nature of our relationship changed. We didn’t have time to spend together like we used to. The change was overwhelming, and I didn’t understand what I was experiencing. It was scary.

███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ████████████████████████████████████████████.

That decision haunts me. I wish I never █████████████████████, even if it would’ve lead to some hurt feelings for a time.

I remember feeling enthusiastic about starting ████████████. ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. The ability to ██████████████████ was especially enticing as someone who has always had an incredible amount of social anxiety.

Things started to take a turn very quickly, ████████████████████████████████████. I’ve mentioned to you before how I feel uncomfortable ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. Despite this, you’ve continued to ██████████████████████████████████████████, leading me to wonder if you even care about my feelings on this topic. Perhaps I explained it poorly, so I’ll explain in greater detail below why █████████████ are so uncomfortable for me now.

█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████? ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. I felt very uncomfortable the entire time.

When █████████████████████████, something changed. The nature of our relationship changed. We were no longer ██████████, we were █████████████. ████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. █████████████████████████████████ left. ██ never came back. In ███ place was someone who looked like ██████, sounded like ██████, but ██ wasn’t ▓▓▓▓▓.

██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. For a long, long time I felt strangely about that █████; it took me years to realize that strange feeling was actually great discomfort.

Understand that I need a lot of time to process things. A lot more than most people. Many Autistics deal with something called Alexithymia which, in short, means delayed processing. It’s not unusual for me to go along with something and realize days/weeks/months later that I was actually very uncomfortable in the moment, I just didn’t realize/understand it at the time. This makes for some really awkward situations—how do I bring up that I wasn’t cool with something that happened days/weeks/months ago? The easy rebuttal is, “Well, why didn’t you say something then?” Most people assume that if I were really so uncomfortable with something, I would’ve expressed my discomfort at the time; me expressing my discomfort so long after the fact is an indication that I wasn’t actually that bothered by whatever it is in question. This is very incorrect, but leads me to not even bother trying to express my discomfort. It’s vital to understand that this is just how my brain works. Maybe I would’ve said something at the time if I had realized how I actually felt about it in the moment, but I didn’t. I can’t react to what I don’t yet know. So, as I explain the following, keep in mind that this is spoken with all the insight of years of processing.

Also, I want to be very clear about this: I’m not going to sugarcoat the following. I’m going to state things as they are, as I see them. I don’t do so to try to hurt you, but in an effort to give these events the appropriate weight they deserve. The reality is this: You hurt me. This is how.

█████████████████████████ isn’t funny. █████████████████████████ verbal abuse, and ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████, that sort of behavior—that is, you yelling █████████████████ whenever ████████████████████ didn’t perform up to your standards—was a regular occurrence. I was constantly on edge because I was worried about the smallest little thing setting you off. You’re scary when you are upset, and it felt like you were upset all the time. It didn’t matter if I had done something to upset you; █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. I grew to fear you. I no longer felt safe around you.

████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. I had to consider things like your emotional state in an effort to protect myself from you, even when 90% of the time I had nothing to do with whatever went wrong. ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. You were not approachable.

It’s one thing to treat me poorly, but it’s another thing to abuse those I love and/or care about. The trauma I experienced from ██████ did not arise so much from my personal encounters with ██████████████████, but rather from seeing my friends get bullied to tears. Maybe it stems from a lack of respect for myself—I don’t know—but the moment I see someone else getting hurt, things change.

████████████████████████████, I was forced to watch ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. I was completely powerless ███████████. I just had to stand there and take it. Do you know the pain I felt as a result? █████████████████████████████████████████!

████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. Thinking about ██████████ makes me mad. ████████████████████████████████████. ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████, as if I’m stupid. I never understood your ████████████████████████████████████ and it always frustrated me. Why? For the very same reasons I just explained: I hate seeing people I care about get hurt. Watching you get hurt ███████████████████████████ hurt me as well. I was constantly trying to protect you █████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ████████████████████████████████████████████████, I didn’t feel vindicated. I felt sad. I was trying to prevent people I cared about from harm. That included you.

████████████████████████████████████████████████████████: You were not an approachable person. You did not respond well to being questioned. You seemed to have an aversion to elaborating on anything when you decided the explanation you had given was sufficient. You were not stable: One moment you were pleasant and fun to be around; a second later, I wanted to be as far away from you as possible. ███████████████ felt like navigating a minefield. And I have no idea how to navigate a minefield.

█████████████████████████████████? ██████████████████████. ██████████ █████████████████████████████████. ███████████████████████████████████████████████████. Did you even see me as ████████████████, or just ███████████?

██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ████████████████████. It felt like I had been wholly rejected by you ███████████. I was just an opportunity ████████████████████.

███████████████ destroyed our relationship. This is why I ruminate about you all the time. These things may have occurred years ago now, but their consequences are still very much alive and well. The wounds, at least for me, are still very fresh.

Since then, I don’t even know how to interact with you. I don’t feel like I even know who are you anymore. You don’t seem like the person ████████████████████████████. Of course, people change. I’ve changed a lot since then, too. It would be completely unreasonable—and selfish—of me to expect you to be the same person ████████████████████████████. But, I’m often not even sure if you want me around.

Have you even noticed how our relationship has deteriorated? If you have, do you recognize why that happened? Does it bother you? Are you happy with the current state of our relationship? Do you wish things were different?

These questions have been echoing in my mind for so many years now.

I’ve tried to repair things. ███████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. You were more important. I remember you accusing me ███████████████████████████████████████. I don’t know if you actually meant that or not, but it couldn’t have been farther from the truth. ██████ because of you. ██████ to support you. ████████████████████████████████ they were also ███████ with you.

█████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. I want to show that I care. █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. Because it’s your █████. You seem convinced that I hate ██████████. I don’t. I don’t know how to convince you of that, but I don’t. █████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ understand that was absolutely nothing personal. I have sensory sensitivities. It’s something I don’t have control over. But that doesn’t mean that I hate ██████████. Far from it.

Obviously, with me now living in Japan, this doesn’t afford a lot of opportunities ██████████████████████████████████. I can’t do much about this, but know that I do miss ██████████████████████. ██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████. I wish I could ████████████████████ more often in person. I wish I were able to support you █████████████████████████████.

I thought if I were open and honest about the process surrounding my Autism diagnosis, that it would somehow lead to a deeper understanding of each other. Maybe we’re broken because of some disconnect caused by me being Autistic, so if I can try to explain myself through the lens of Autism, then we can start to repair things. And by being vulnerable about something so personal, I can indicate to you that I want to have a closer relationship. This was my thought process.

Now, I don’t know what to do. I have difficulty even talking to you because sometimes it feels like you aren’t very interested in me, or because you ██████████████████████████████████████████████████. I’m scared of being truly honest with you because I don’t know how you’ll react—it’s for precisely this reason that you will probably never read any of this. For years and years and years I have beat myself up, hated myself, and felt like a terrible ██████ because I couldn’t figure out how to “fix” things. I thought for a long time that there was some combination of words or actions that would make everything right, and it was just a matter of figuring out what the specific combination was. It wasn’t until recently that I realized I hadn’t ever considered whether you even wanted to fix things, or if you even recognized there was a problem at all. Relationships are a two-way street. Maybe your desires don’t align with my own. Things happen that way sometimes.

If you like how things are the way they are now—the distance between us—then I accept that, even though it’s a tough pill to swallow. But if, like me, the distance that’s grown between us is upsetting to you, it is important that you understand it’s going to take some time to repair. You are not a “safe person” for me. I frequently leave our conversations feeling negative about them for one reason or another. I’m still rather intimidated by you. It will take time to rebuild trust.

But, if it’s what you genuinely want, I’m willing to work with you to rebuild it. I need to know that’s your genuine desire, however. Please don’t say it is just because you feel like it’s the “right” answer.

I just want closure, however it may look like. I want release. I don’t want to carry this burden around anymore.

Love,

░░░░░

August 2024