Published on 12, July, 2020
Like many (most?) autistic people I feel very disconnected from other people. I’ve often said I feel like an invisible ghost walking among the living.
But sitting in the dark in my house with the blinds closed, wondering if there is a real world outside or if I’m trapped in a bubble, has reminded me of a thought that I seriously toyed with in my darkest period, in my late teens.
Solipsism.
The idea that my mind is the only thing that exists. That other people aren’t real. A bit, I suppose, like I’m the only real player character trapped in a game full of NPCs and that’s why I can’t connect with anyone - they’re not real.
Ironically, of late, I’ve considered that it’s me who’s an NPC.
Have any of you ever felt this way?
Yes. I felt like this. I am glad to read your post. In fact I wondered had I actually written it. I’m 58 years of age but have never recovered from what felt like a breakdown at 14 when that solipsism hit me. It was so scary: I had been a happy child, presuming that everything was as real as my senses told me. Then came the ‘realisation’ as a teenager - in one horrifying moment - that it was all a dream(?) or ….? I’m not sure what the word is but it was convincingly terrifying. I was spontaneously ultimately infinitely isolated as if in spiritual suffocation. I’ve never found my way back, but I have learned about the condition through the years. Dissociation as protection is one way of looking at it. Recently ASD and it’s isolating difficulties with a theory of mind: I don’t read people and as a result their reality seems diminished to me. OCD: the more I tried to answer the suggestion in my mind the stronger the solipsism became. I have to admit I’m powerless over the solipsism; only a power greater than me can restore me to sanity. I can’t restore myself to presolipsistic state: therefore it has to be something more powerful than me and I have to define what the characteristics of that would be for me and ask it for help. Mortality helps: the increasing conviction of my being mortal allows solipsism to dissolve in that reality. Strange how death is a friend in that regard. Basically I am grateful that I am powerless over Hope, real hope, real goodness which lies outside my understanding or conception.