I don't know-- I think it's realistic. Honestly-- look, guys, we're not easy people to love. That doesn't mean we're unlovable-- just that it's not easy. Not just anybody is going to be able to do it, and it's not going to be easy on them.
Turnabout's fair play-- it's not easy on us, either. Living with another adult human being means being CONSTANTLY on our on-stage behavior-- it wouldn't, for an NT, but for us it does. It means watching what we say, and how we say it, and how long it takes to say it, and... and... and...
Had I fully appreciated all ASD meant (that we see human interaction-- make that the whole world-- in fundamentally different ways, that we need fundamentally different things, that NO amount of learning is going to make my mental filter work properly or turn my sense of imminent threat off in the face of an argument, or that there's always going to be a point at which the ONLY way I can avoid a meltdown is to walk away and concerned insecure spouses will ALWAYS follow and insist on continuing the discussion) when I got married, I would not have been dating at all. I would have been in the market for a few good friends, but marriage would have been out of the question. Both because I honestly believe that I've ruined my husband's life (whether he knows it or not) and because, if I had it all to do over again, there is NO WAY IN HELL I would willingly, knowingly, and deliberately walk into this minefield.
At the same time-- I would LOVE to get that letter. I would LOVE to know that he acknowledges that he's suffered for being married to me-- not because I want him to suffer, but because I want to hear him say that he's aware of the price he's paid and still deems it worthwhile. And I would LOVE to know that he understands what it costs me, just to do what, from my point of view, seems to come so effortlessly to NTs that it can be taken for granted-- that, for example, I've already exhausted my risk tolerance for the day by the time I go to the grocery store, get homework done, and take the kids to soccer practice; that it's NOT unreasonable anxiety when I say that I can't take two kids and run to the store for milk and bread and potatoes because my face is slipping off and I'm terrified someone might see me; that I'm avoiding disaster, not being a coward, when I refuse to argue with the cashier who's clearly in the wrong when she refuses to manually enter my debit card after the scanner fails to read it.
I'd love to know that someone understands that those "easy" things aren't easy for me, and aren't ever going to be-- no matter how much therapy I get, no matter how much self-confidence I acquire, no matter how many affirmations I repeat or how well I rote-learn what I'm supposed/not supposed to do.
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"Alas, our dried voices when we whisper together are quiet and meaningless, as wind in dry grass, or rats' feet over broken glass in our dry cellar." --TS Eliot, "The Hollow Men"