The Friends I Imagined, the Life I Missed

[Jessica Ballantyne]

I've always wanted to be a well-liked and admired person, but I didn't do the work—I dreamed instead. I could've made this happen, but I lived in other fictional worlds, befriending fictional people. Meanwhile I wasn't living a real good life with real friends and real relationships. 

Thing is I'm neurodivergent and on the spectrum. This made it very difficult to communicate and interact very effectively with others, casting me out and making me feel lonely. I got very made fun of and looked down at by so many people. I just didn't fit in, so imaginary friends were really all I had. 

Trouble is that I didn't challenge myself and take risks to turn my life around—I stayed in my comfort zone, pacing around the house, living in a world somewhere else. 

I'm awake now, but frustrated, because I have so much work to do, in turning my life around. I'm going back to school and starting season work. I hope to progress and get out of the hell I faced for 15 years. 
It's amazing what MD can do to you. You think MD is helping out, when really, it's doing the opposite and it could ruin you. 

[Valeria Franco]

Hi Jessica, I am on the spectrum too you know.

I have always felt lonely, it is so difficult. I masked a lot in my life, always wondering what was wrong with me.

And I daydreamed so much.

The only way is to build a life taylored on our needs. So we don't need to daydream. 

[Jessica Ballantyne]

I'm living a very discouraging and unlucky time in my life. I'm actually starting over, and looking for jobs relentlessly, while I look at college programs. At 39 I've never been in a relationship, nor married, always single and struggling along—daydreaming too, which doesn't improve my situation. Yes, plus I'm on the spectrum—so everybody is treating me like I live in another galaxy—all because I'm not thinking and behaving the way they do to get ahead as society expects you to. It is kind of a sad reality on my behalf, and I never know if things are going to be fine—because it's unforeseen that anyone will care, all but me. It's like I'm beside myself and nobody can relate, nor empathize to that. I think that's why we dream—real life can be a bite in the face, if it wants to be. Of course, I've been unrealistic to sustain high expectations from others, my bad. We all save ourselves, and of course, nobody else will care about our satisfaction. I wishfully did think someone will come along and take me away from my problems, and make me feel happy, but that just doesn't work, it's all up to me. In a way, I failed to make myself happier, visible and liked, so there you have it. But still—it stings, and I feel mortified inside that I set myself up for tons of disappointment.