Does Anyone Else?

I’m scared that I’m alone in my suffering.

I’m scared that no one else feels the same way as me.

I’m scared that I can’t be understood, no matter how hard someone tries.

I’m scared.

Sometimes, I feel separate from everyone around me. I become the sole passenger of a plane, held captive by my non-neurotypical status, isolated by stigma and ignorance, and tortured by the breathtaking view of the world beneath me — one that I feel I’m not a part of.

I keep pounding on the layered panes of glass, screaming a question that I still don’t know the answer to,

“Does anyone else..?”

I’d like to pose that question to you. Do share any similar feelings of experiences to the ones below?

1. I fear that I’m unlovable. During my darkest times, I feel like I’m broken and fundamentally different from those around me. I have soaked the t-shirt of my significant other countless times, asking him the same questions: “Will you still love me if my anxiety gets worse, or the insomnia comes back?” And when it does get worse, I ask, “do you still love me?” “Am I too much for you?” His answer is always a kindhearted “of course I love you, and no you’re not too much,” but I need that affirmation, over and over again. No matter how many times he says it, I’m still scared that there might be a day when his answer changes.
2. I have bizzare idiosyncrasies and compulsions. Oftentimes, my anxiety manifests as a need to clean and control my environment. When I sit down on Chicago’s public transit, I hover my feet so that they don’t have to touch the floor. When I search for a cafe or restaurant, my choices are immediately limited by how clean I think their bathrooms are. When my significant other doesn’t come home around the same time at night, I start to cry because my brain shows me pictures of what his body would look like dead. I don’t know why my brain does these things, but it just does.
3. I wonder about when I’ll get better. They say healing is anything but linear, but does it have to be this hard? Even though I’ve made substantial progress over the past two years, I still go through countless ups and downs. (In fact, I’ve been down these past few weeks.) I wonder if there will be a time when I can answer, “how are you?” with “I’m doing well,” and really mean it. I wonder if there will be a time when my backpack does not rattle with the sound of medication. I wonder if there will be a time when all of this makes sense. Will it?

Let me know your thoughts.