People have rejected me. That sucks. But, I can reject that. If they treated me that way, I don’t guess I ever needed them. I don’t like the pain, the guilt, the anxiety it has caused. But, I can move past it. I hate any that has been caused them, but if they can’t forgive my mistakes, accept my apologies while refusing to consider their own, there is not much else to do.

If anything, I hate it for them. I feel bad for them. I will wish them good things, think kind thoughts, and hope they find their way. Maybe they will learn and not make the same mistakes with others, to treat them differently. Perhaps, they have leaned. I know I have. I hope I don’t forget how mean people can be. I knew this as a child, but I now realize it’s not always my fault. I’m not always the one to blame.

I am not rejecting people. They have rejected me. I still miss them, I still wish they were in my lives, but it is their choice not to be, and, I’lll consider it their loss, not mine. I gave my parents so many years. One of them has done enough to make amends, the other actually got worse. Their choices, not mine. My wife does so many good things that it has to counteract the frustrations. Besides, she takes care of me in so many ways. I can’t count on her for everything, but I need to find those things elsewhere or just accept I won’t have them.

When I recall the rejection, I will make it my goal to be inspired, just as often happens with those who pursue goals. Instead of having it beat me down, I’ll use it as motivation. Yes. I’ll be the last person chosen, but become the one they couldn’t imagine doing without. While those have rejected me are on to other things, so too will I be.

They don’t want me. That is clear. My father chose his ego over his children. So did my mother, wife, and boss to lesser degrees. Who knows what my friends were thinking, apart from I was just too annoying (I’m starting to realize autistic burnout can become toxically annoying—rather than normal levels of annoyance.) I would rather not be annoying, so I can avoid people I annoy. I don’t annoy everyone.

I will redefine how I move forward for the rest of my life, no matter how long or short that is. Maybe I can get support from strangers around the world. That alway seemed more impersonal, but, after the past year, it would be a big upgrade.

Personal is not always better. When I started making projects for people I know, it was helpful. It was for a while, I think, but those people have not always appreciated it, and I will no longer “throw pearls before swine,” as some guy named Jesus once said. It’s a waste of time, talent, and resources to do so.

The people have spoken. Well, some of them have spoken. Really, only a few. They don’t want me. So be it. There are many more people in the world, and I think I’ll find them less hostile towards me. It will be my mission to find a way, a new way, one where my unbridled creativity will be rewarded and not squandered, supported and not squelched.

Forget the false platitudes promising inclusion but always with a catch, the neurotypical bullshit of relationships and group identity. No, I don’t want that. No more pseudo-friends or doctrinaire institutions that are the antithesis of creativity. Those have robbed me of my joy for far too long.

Instead, I will find my own relationships and identity, and it can be with anyone. I’ll make people appreciate my creativity, and if they don’t, I’ll find someone who does. There are no psuedo-friends because those don’t exist. It’s too complicated. I can view anyone as a friend, even if they don’t know it. My “friendliness” will be to avoid them if that’s what they want.

I’m not afraid of institutions; I change them with my unexpected (and autistic) quirky creativity. If it’s one thing, it’s authentic. Most people probably appreciate authenticity, even if they don’t always act that way themselves.

Maybe I can even find a new way to earn some income. That’s a creative endeavor in and of itself! I don’t have as much pressure as some, though it seems to be more than I had realized . . . thanks, “Pollyanna.” But, I’m not desperate quite yet. I really enjoy my freedom form the world!

I met with a wise old friend yesterday. There are still some of those around, and I could find more at any time. Even though I wish I could be friends more easily with people my age, that’s never worked for me, sadly. I still don’t understand it, but I’m starting to realize that’s largely autism messing up communication. People of differing generations accept there can be communication problems. Anyone my age doesn’t assume that. Even my one brother has struggled to understand me, but he’s understanding autism more all the time.

My feelings, my creations, can be shared with the world. I won’t be boxed in by those who want to control me, especially since I now know how viciously they are willing to do so.

I will not engage in victimization, victim blaming, or anything like it. I will get out of that trap that has ensnared me during much of my burnout. Though it was not who I am or who I was, it was what I became, largely through trauma from my family and invalidation from those around me.

It is my hope others will as well, to stop hurting others and themselves. I know what it’s like to be a part of that sort of mess, and it’s not fun for anyone.

My empathy, most likely, made me take on the feelings of those around me, but I didn’t know how to process them, not all at once, not with autism. Then, more and more feelings, too much information, too much advice -FAR too much unsolicited advice—and wanting to defend those who I feel most deserved it. I will figure out better ways to do this in the future—namely, to go back to what I did before burnout but with some upgrades.

Yes, I just needed to upgrade my brain—or, to refurbish it. It was not all bad, but it needed to be repaired. A burnout is not permanent, just as shutdowns and meltdowns are not.

I will continue communicating with the people who have been willing to help me without freaking out about my autism: my siblings, my children, and a very few friends. Regarding those friends, I have to be careful. Always. It’s almost to the point I can’t have friends, really, the amount of worry something will go wrong. It usually does.

There is probably no point in revealing my autism diagnosis to everyone, but I’ll think about it. My experience of doing so has been very mixed. I may post more on this later, and I already have quite a bit! But, I’m going to accept how people have reacted, especially negatively, as their ignorance and indifference, and only they can decide to change that. In fact, this indifference created many of the problems. That started with my wife, then others who needed to take it more seriously. It went from there.

If people reject me, that’s their choice. It hurts. It reallyhurts. But, I will reject that rejection by living my life without them, not because it’s what I want, but because I don’t need any one person or group of people to help me. There are far too many people in this world for that to be the case. The “wise elder” helped me see that even more yesterday. Her long, uncontrollable, laugh when I told her about something my wife did that created so many issues, showed me—yet again—that trying to rely on my wife for certain things is no longer optimistic but idiotic.I will choose not to be an idiot.

When people want to reconnect with me, I will, though with the appropriate amount of caution. This is why I will include my autism therapist in these discussions, as I have with others in the past.

Though I may like to be alone, I would always like to be in a relationship with people, even if from a distance most of the time. I’m not certain why I do, but I also want to be with others who have been rejected. That is what tends to attract me to people, and I don’t like to give up on those others have given up on. It’s the irony of my situation. I’m alone because I didn’t want others to feel alone. But, that’s not for me to decide, and I misunderstood something along the way. (Actually, there were numerous misunderstandings by many people.)

I’m not completely alone. (I guess “alone” implies a binary choice, I realize.) I am married, and, despite not understanding me well at all, my wife is an extraordinary person in so many ways. We are working at readjusting expectations and planning for the next phase of our life together. I sometimes question why she married me, but that’s on her, not me. I feel guilty, to be honest, to rely on her for as much as I do. I’m getting enough empathy from Autistic Twitter to make up for what she doesn’t understand.

I’ve seen in my family how the blindingly intense desire for justice and punishment (from my siblings) caused my burnout. No matter how merited it may seem, I cannot handle that way of thinking forever. Since some have rejected me, I will reconnect with those who are willing. I hope everyone is, but that is not my choice to make. They should know how I feel; I tend to be forgiving, I think. And, they will decide if they can be as well. Some are, and some are not.

I will reject the rejection from others and accept my acceptance of myself. That seems so simple. I’ll complicate it, I’m certain, but I will keep going. I’m stubborn in that way. If people reject me, I’ll consider it their loss and my gain. They lost someone who wanted to be a friend, and I gained the freedom to find others.

Now, I actually need for people to leave me alone . . . I don’t need to be re-rejected. That seems idiotic. People . . .