Weird: Life on the Autistic Spectrum

Socializing

As I got older, I've become more and more painfully aware of how different I am from everyone else.

Now, I'm not saying this as in "I'm not like other girls, I'm special because I make myself that way UwU," I'm saying this as, "I've always been odd in behavior, speech patterns, mannerisms, etc. and I've always had difficulty in social settings and situations because of it."
I've always been bossy, attention-seeking, selfish, and completely daft when it comes to reading social cues and facial expressions unless they're exaggerated and simple.

When I was younger, I wasn't very aware of this fact. I could make "friends" fairly quickly, and I was actually quite the social butterfly. To me, everyone I came across was my friend, unless they were very outspoken about their dislike for me.

In fact, I wasn't even aware of my social difficulties until second grade.

For the first two weeks of second grade, my mother had decided to try her hand at homeschooling us, since she was expecting for us to have to move the next year. However, due to its difficulties, the fact we were in Georgia and would've had to send in grades and paperwork, and everything in between, she had us back in the public school system quickly.

For the first couple of months back at public school, I had a very difficult time.

The other students in the class didn't want me to be their friend. At all. I would try to play with them at recess, I would try to be friendly, but it just didn't work.

My teacher singled me out. She thought I didn't pay attention enough. She thought I had ADHD. She bugged my mom about putting me on adderall. My mom complied just to satiate her and attempt to help me, but the medication just turned me into a zombie. I don't even remember much of that class.
Luckily, my mom has me move classes and took me off that medication pretty quickly.

My other two second grade classes (we moved to Texas in the middle of the last semester of school) were much better, both with the teachers and socially.

However, the feeling of being singled out for being different returned in fourth grade, but I won't go into any of that because it's the ultimate cringe.

Between fourth grade and high school, I did decently well with social stuff. I think. Of course, there were times I didn't feel connected to my peers or accepted, but that's normal for that age, right?

I was friends with a group of people in middle school, but a lot of things prevented those friendships I had with them from continuing, and it kinda just started with me withdrawing myself from conversations and such because I began to feel too different. Then other things furthered that divide, which was outside of my control.
I only kept one of those friends to adulthood, and I can honestly say she's my best friend.

Then high school came around. I only made a total of four new friends during that time, two of which went to the one day a week school with me and my best friend.
But those three left after the school year was over, and I lost another middle school friend.

That year, 2016, was the year the feelings of being different and separate from others got to its absolute worse. It honestly hasn't lessened very much in intensity.

Firstly, my parents began to have marital problems. Whether or not that had any bearing on my ever increasing social anxiety, I don't know.

Secondly, my mom started having the family attend church, which we hadn't done so in years.
She had us get into the youth group there. That... that was absolute hell for me.
I tried talking to the people my age. I really tried. But whenever I contributed to any conversation, whether it was at Sunday breakfast or in Sunday school, I felt unwanted. Ignored. Alien. Rejected.
Sure, they weren't mean to me, but I didn't feel accepted.

This isn't limited to just my high school Sunday school class, but whenever I try to connect with most new people, it feels like their inside this nice, awesome dome. Well, it's only nice on the inside. The glass is frosted and I can barely see inside it, but I can see and hear people in there. Sometimes I can see their faces clearly enough.
They can hear me sometimes, too. Maybe even see me. But, since I'm not in the bubble and I can't ever be in it, no one really notices or cares that I'm out there. They might look at me from time to time in what? Disgust? Pity? But nothing happens.

This, of course, worsened. When I wasn't at my one day a week school, I was at home, babysitting and doing schoolwork. I cannot relate to the average teenager. While my friends and peers were out and about getting licenses and jobs and starting college, any social intelligence I had has completely crumbled, only to be used in full on the rare, special occasions I get to spend time with my offline friends.