u/Hatsterical

Just a warning, there are a few mentions of dark places mentally. And SH is touched on (not detailed, and not mine). Also mention of vomit! Uh. Yeah.

Hi. I'm an asexual girl. This is about me and an asexual non-binary afab person who I blocked yesterday. I don't know if I was, but I think I was emotionally abused.

I had a best friend, who I went on a few dates with. The best friend, during the holiday season before last started being cold and distant to me out of nowhere when they were always honestly smothering me.

We both have mental health issues, and we talk about them, and I expressed to them "I don't know why I feel this way, but for some reason I feel like I'm just suddenly gonna drop dead? Like a paranoia."

And they said to me "I'm sorry you feel like you're dying soon, but I have a date tomorrow and I want to be clear-headed" it was a couple days before my birthday, and they had just told me they would not be free to see me at all, the person they call their best friend.

I was a little taken aback. In one message I felt they diminished me to a burden, showcased they don't care about my birthday. I expressed confusion, because this was the first time they mentioned the date, too. I told them I hoped it would be fun. But I don't remember what I said now, but it lead to them saying they thought they had been friend zoned by me, in spite of going on dates with me, and in spite of it having been a friendship to begin with.

When I asked about why they thought that they put all the blame on their coworkers misguiding them, and I said I didn't friend zone them, and suddenly they actually cared about my mental health, were apologising for being cold and distant towards me saying they did it because they again, thought I friend zoned them, and essentially began a month+ of them constantly saying how sorry they are, and how guilty they feel.

On Valentine's Day last year they sent me a card that was heart shaped, apologising for all the "horrible things" they have done. When we would share writing (a shared hobby) it would be two girls who are in a relationship, one of whom is apologising for all the horrible things she did (I am not kidding that happened??).

I was wearing thin, but I like to give people the benefit. I like to hope their behaviour might change, and sometimes it is admittedly to my detriment. I was a walking zombie at this point, because my best friend turned into a blob of apology, and I didn't have the friendship anymore. And then, they said something about how their coworker mentioned me and them again, saying they really needed to lock it down. And they said "yeah, I told him that was unhelpful and that you just need time" or something along those lines.

And I was so dead at that point, I decided that the only way to stop the fear that any moment they would be upset with me for not wanting to be with them, and the only way to stop them continuously guilting me, was to ask to be in a relationship.

And they were appeased. They were happy. And I played a role, thinking to myself "It'll be okay, if I don't learn to love them, I can leave, they said that we'll stay friends" but after those incidents, they didn't care about my feelings. I'd set boundaries, saying that since I'm autistic these are my requirements (requirements I had to state and state over again) they would cross these boundaries. All while I would adhere to theirs.

It started being every day I had to bring up another boundary they crossed. And every time I did, I felt I was whittling them down till they were just this pile of sludge. They treated me as if I was an authority figure to appease, not their equal. And it got so stressful, I wound up in the hospital, after having stomach issues that are still the most painful thing I've experienced, which lead to me vomiting blood (something that can happen with too much force, likely exacerbated by the fact I have EDS) As I sat in the waiting room, wondering if I was dying, my family thankfully with me, I messaged them saying what had happened. They did not ask if I was okay.

I asked them about it later, and they said "well, it's obvious you weren't" which if I'm being fair that could be understandable. But I still feel that was cold?

My stomach issues did not stop there. They repeated. And every single time they never asked if I was okay.

I had to talk to them every day, or they would be scared and confused. I shared all my art with them, they became a vacuum for my attention, my mind and my creativity. Every waking moment I wondered how I could include them in something. I don't know why. My guess is they just gave so little back, and they took so much, that it was my last ditch effort to find something. But for a prolonged period.

I soon tried to cut them out of a few creative projects (as in, I didn't share it), but I would always wind up sharing it with them. And they would read it. And for these small intervals they would compliment me, and they would be invested in something I did, something about me. But as soon as they stopped reading they had nothing left to say. They would comment while reading, but never discuss it. I would read their writing, and they would have me world-build for them, as contrast. And if I didn't, they would not stop whining about not knowing what to do.

I was world-building, doubly!

I eventually found something I wanted to do. I wanted to get a stall in an artist alley (a small goal, but a huge one, because I have never publicly been an artist) and I was thinking "yes, this is perfect, I need something that is just for me, which is rewarding" and I kept thinking about it, over and over.

In January of this year they missed my birthday again. I wanted to break up then. But they had been self-harming because of hating their job? And then they suddenly quit their job on a whim, and that spiralled them into a deep depression. I couldn't do it, then. And the fact I couldn't, depressed me. I almost didn't sign up to the convention I wound up going to.

But I did sign up. I got in. And so began me preparing for a convention. And like an idiot, I invited them to help with the stall, sullying the sacred nature of it being for me.

Luckily? They proved to be no help whatsoever. They tried twice. They tried to go pick out a table cloth for me without my input. And at one point they suggested I have a QR code for my table.

In the time of my prep, they had an emergency with their tooth. A life threatening infection, and without money afforded by their family, my family and I chipped in. This person is from a middle class background, and I am poor, and already trying to fund an artist alley table.

They come over for the tooth. They stay for over a week. They put coffee drinks under a table i have to move in the evening, instead of on it, or in the damn bin. They accidentally kicked me in the head in the middle of the night VERY hard.

They talk over me every time I try to talk. They talk over my sister. If I was speaking to my sister, they would reply for her before she got a chance.

They had a breakdown about not having money, and as if the tooth wasn't enough, we gave them money on top of that.

Then they left. And I panic, because they sponged up a week of my prep, and I had a lot of things to get manufactured (keychains) and not enough time to do it.

I'm so thankful to the world, and all the people in local places who helped me. And miraculously, everything for my table fell into place. But the prints of my art were the last addition. And as I'm trying to work out where to get them, this person tells me they don't understand what it is I'm even doing, and that they are not capable of grasping it.

And suddenly, every moment of pain with them, hit me so hard down, I had to say in our chat "I need to go, I am sinking into a dark place, I would rather not think of what it would look like if I dropped dead before the convention" as for whatever reason stress makes me think I am about to be hit by a bus idk.

They kept typing. They said something I don't remember, then all I can remember is a response "if I died suddenly you wouldn't know how to appreciate any of it" talking about my work. And I recognise that was a heavy thing to say, but it was a response while I was in a state of panic, and they were keeping me talking to them.

They said something else I also don't remember, and I replied "That sounds like something you would say about a person breaking their leg"

This triggered them saying the only part I do remember "If you died I'd probably cry for a few weeks" which is.

I don't know what is wrong with it, I just know it is wrong, when I was genuinely suddenly scared for my life induced by panic. I needed to get away from the thought. They forced me to do more than just linger in it, they put an addition on it. While I was trying to go.

I said to them, still in panic "holy fuck, what the fuck is wrong with you"

They said "I don't know?" I vividly remember being typed like that idk why.

I then stopped talking for the night, but I was crying, and I couldn't stop. I'm not a person who cries much.

They messaged me the next day. I told them to leave me alone. They wouldn't. I told them they were pissing me off, and they stopped.

After that, I worked on the last of my work. I got special custom trading art cards drawn up personally and then printed. I finished 12 pages of a comic. I helped my family with some things they needed to get done. I spent time with my sister. I watched a show I love. I showered several times which I am usually demotivated with because of them! And I did all that in a week, of not speaking to them.

And I stopped speaking to them, because 1. They refused to understand the work I'm doing though I know everything about their old fast food job because they expected me to care. 2. They hurt me and I was not speaking because I needed away from them for a little while. 3. I actually have selective mutism, so in low points during that week where I kept thinking "maybe I should check in, I feel bad" I physically couldn't, since selective mutism doesn't have to only effect speech.

They know I have selective mutism. Unfortunately, this is something important to point out.

Throughout the week they kept telling me to talk to them again when I wanted to, and that they hope I'm okay. They started expressing concern, progressively, though I was still managing my art account as it's kind of my job. They kept sending messages of "message me when you want to. When you feel you're ready."

Then they said something that crawled under my skin, and it's another of of the things I just can't remember. But it prompted me to say "If you were really concerned about me, you would check with my family."

Which had them say "I hadn't thought of that."

And this triggered something in me deeply, but I managed to keep my cool. But this person is somebody I constantly have to spoon feed information to. Because they "didn't think of that" or "didn't know that" I literally had to explain static on a tv screen to them, only to find out they knew exactly what I was talking about the entire time.

Now, feigning concern for me, they claim they didn't think of messaging my family...

I have no idea what happened here. Something where they wrecked my whole day, and I decided to call them on the phone to discuss with them what it is I have been doing. They missed the call. Hung up on me. And it honestly pissed me off because they constantly whinge that it would be easier to have a discussion with me if I only called them.

I scheduled a call with them for the next day, but I woke up with the stomach pain again (hello old friend!) in the middle of the night. I vomited for the first time since I had vomited blood (I have a weak ass immune system, that was such an achievement for me, fighting nausea back countless times.). I was shaking from the body's natural reaction, and just my own emotional shock. I messaged them telling them I wouldn't call them the next day, because the world or god or who knows may not want me to.

So the call was postponed only a few days... I don't remember what jump started it again. But I wound up explaining to them precisely what I was doing, in the sweetest calmest voice, holding down all anger, checking in on their side of things too.

They said they were upset I couldn't just say three words to them while we weren't talking (for only a week) I said "firstly, I was upset. Secondly, I have mutism, which you seem to be forgetting about, and finally, you literally said, not once, not twice, but three to four seperate times that I should talk to you again when I'm ready.'

They just kept complaining. And they said "I know about your mutism, but... Apparently not as well as I THOUGHT I guess" And somehow we wound up talking about their phone they broke, and how apparently I wasn't helpful with that, even though I helped them find out what to do with it??? 🤨

I called them selfish I think the day I told them they were pissing me off. And we discussed that, I explained that it was a word used in a state of panic, and even before the call I said it like "I feel right now you are selfish. That is subject to change, I want to hear your side."

So, it's a week till the convention, at the time this phone call took place. And I spend the next week rushing around trying to find a printer in my anti-artist pro-art corner of the world where resources are limited but we bring in talent from other reaches.

On the last possible day, the Friday before the con, we got my stuff printed! And while that was happening, I had requested from the person to please not bring up anything that isn't to do with the con, since I need to immerse myself in it (and they still expected me to talk). They start asking me if they theoretically got the finch app again because they can't access it from their broken phone (which my sister introduced me to, and I introduced this person to) would I friend them please?

And to me, artist overloaded, tough few weeks, trying to see if my prints are the quality I am good with (and they are, they are incredible) who doesn't want to be asked questions right now with obvious answers, I said "why are you asking me this? I have other things to focus on?" And they were being mopey about that.

I wound up getting frustrated, and I said "look, I just told you I got the prints, you don't wanna know if they're good or not, you know how stressful getting them was, but you don't check in if I'm happy about them?"

"I didn't know you had them already" they said, even though I had said so.

I got frustrated. Wound up saying I can't think about "inane bullshit"

They got stroppy with me, saying the finch app is something they care about, they called me rude, and all this other stuff- WHILE IM RUSHING A PRICING LIST FOR MY TABLE STUFF???

I felt like walls were closing in on me. I blocked them, temporarily, in a moment of self-preservation. Then I immediately felt bad, unblocked them, and found out that the comments get deleted on Instagram when you block someone.

So... I'm autistic, and this was my last straw. I flew into a meltdown, panicking, telling them I didn't mean to block them forever just for a moment and expressing I'm devastated because all the comments they have ever made on my art were gone. I found out they were all still there for my friend. I asked them if they could capture them for me, whenever they feel okay to.

Then, had a meltdown for an hour, and moved past it to FINISH MY PRICING LIST.

I barely got sleep. I went to the con. I met wonderful people. People smiled at my art if they didn't buy anything. The next day I had one pass free, and invited this person to come see it in the middle of the day. I needed them, at that time, to see that all I claimed I worked on wasn't a lie.

They came. I bought them things. They took some of my stock. They talked over me. They stayed over my house. They left.

They then kept acting cold. A few days later, I found out I'm losing my house, which was right after my dad said he needs to have heart surgery (thankfully low risk). I was also sick with the worst flu I've had in a while on top of that (and I get sick frequently).

I told this person, I was losing my house. I made a joke about it, after. They didn't like that. They acted shirty with me, for making a joke about my own situation. They then were not talking to me. A few hours later they told me "I'm thinking. Let me think."

I went to sleep. I woke up. They said they were breaking up with me. I was in my head like "thank fuck" as well as feeling pissed off with their timing, and pissed off I didn't get to. I told them "I've been trying to do that for a while."

"I'm glad we're on the same page, then." They said they still wanted to be friends with me because they care about me lots.

I criticised their timing. They said "I know it was a bad time but I just couldn't handle it anymore" as if they've ever been a partner.

I left that.

But they said "and there is always the chance that the new owner of your house would keep your lease agreement" this dumbass middle-class (no hate if you're middle class hate to THEM) growing up in an owned non rented house said to me with no research on the topic.

I said "that isn't really how it works. There may be exceptions, but I'm definitely losing my house. Why assume that?"

They didn't have an explanation. I decided to get back on track, and I said "anyway, I broke up with you first spiritually, had I not your timing is cruel"

They hated, that I said that. They hated it a lot. In panic, I admitted I felt pressured into the relationship, before I asked that we both take some time to calm down, so that we can discuss things maturely, with kindness and respect to each other.

The next day they tried to corner me, and make me explain if I ever even loved them. I told them I would not be discussing it now. They said "it's a yes or no, just answer me, I NEED to know" I refused. I told them to go do something calming.

Yesterday, they said I strung them on. They called me immature. They called me all sorts of things. I told them I couldn't break up with them, because of persistent stress. I told them that I couldn't break up with them in January (because they said I should have) because they just quit their job, and were self harming, and then after that, life happened.

I blocked them. I told my little brother, who is a kid, that I did, as well as the rest of my family. But I told him, with an apology, as he quite liked them. He messaged them on an account we heavily monitor usually but we were all so stressed, within a few minutes, calling them names, asking them why they couldn't just be a normal person, telling them to change their profile picture (since it is art I made) and their username (since it's a nickname I invented). He reacted like a kid, betrayed, to a person who hurt his sister, and I understand it fully.

But... Jackass dinghead dumbass messaged my little brother back, telling him, a child, that they were much happier before I was in their life, and that they liked who they were (in spite of being an emotional wreck when I met them, and a marginally improved emotional wreck after, who I literally saved the life of). They said this, you know... To a kid. About his big sister. They are an adult, who dumped baggage onto a child, including him in a circumstance between two adults, and then they immediately blocked him before he had a chance to breathe.

He was devastated. He felt like he lost a friend. Because he was angry with them, but he's very loving. I don't want them in contact with my little brother, but I am still just so shocked. This happened yesterday. The boy has mostly bounced back.

They didn't stop there, though, they messaged my mum, saying that there is stuff I'm definitely not telling her and that the situation is far more complicated, and a few things to slander me to my own mum. I have them blocked everywhere, now. And I know that they were more taxing than they were worth. But I am just so dead, because I feel like rn, even though I AM making more connections, that I'll never have a friend who I can send my story to, and have them actually read it, ever again. Part of my brain tells me, I think because it was the only time I got affection from them, that I can only have a person involved in my story, if I'm being taxed.

I hope that feeling goes away.

TLDR; a whole storm of neglect, finished with the person dumping their baggage on my little brother who is a child.