Love hurts.

Tonight a dear friend of mine got irritated with me after I replied to something she said. She took me completely aback when she said "I was in a weird codependent mood again".

I went through a wide range of emotions rather quickly.

I was confused, hurt, irritated, and did I mention I was confused? She said I'd made a conversation we were having about me. I didn't think I had, and I still don't exactly see it, but I'm actually glad she said something to me.

It definitely made me think. After I cried, of course. (Did I mention they up and fell off?)

I looked up codependency. Everything I knew of it pertained someone interacting with a loved one who was addicted to drugs or alcohol. So I was surprised when I saw the definition had changed, and I saw myself in so many of the symptoms on the checklist.

I'm thinking that this fits the bill so much better than an autism diagnosis.

As much as it hurt to hear, I'm thankful my friend pointed it out to me. It makes sense. And I'll be calling this week to get things scheduled with a counselor of some sort. I'm actually looking forward to it.

I don't want to live like this anymore. It's exhausting.

What's wrong with me?

For the past couple of years, but especially the last several months, I've wondered, if I'm on the Autism spectrum. Back when I was a kid, I struggled with friendships. It seemed like I always did something wrong to push people away, but I never quite understood what happened that made the friendship die. It was just...over. But it wasn't just when I was a kid. I've been like this my entire life.

And while I can easily put myself in others' shoes and even physically feel what they are feeling, I struggle with figuring it out in someone's writing unless they actually spell it out. Which makes other parts of my life make a bit more sense. Like that fact that I love deep contrasts in color like black and white. Like the fact that I love absolutes. Like the fact that I've always loved rules. Like the fact that I've always loved math, because there's either a right answer or a wrong answer. Period. 

I like clarity. I need it, like I need air to breathe. 

And when I communicate, whether it is through writing or talking, I use more words than most to get my meaning across. I want to know that I'm understood, and I want desperately to understand others. So when others use passive aggressive ways to communicate it confuses me. I understand that they're irritated with me, and that I've done something wrong, but I have no clue as to what it is unless they've said it directly.

I think that it's me. And then I loathe who I am. And I have a really hard time figuring out how to fix things.

What's wrong with me?