Lonely Spaces

Autism’s most debilitating trait is its pernicious assault on relationships. And while those on the autism spectrum generally present such a wide array of unique characteristics, sadly, an inability to proactively create and nurture personal relationships is one disability most all affected by the condition share.

Years ago, not too long after my son was diagnosed, I was swimming laps at my fitness club’s pool when I noticed a lovely middle aged woman in the other lane with who I presumed was her 20-something son. The host of eccentricities the young man exhibited betrayed he was unique. As the two swam their laps together, he with full snorkel gear, I felt for the first time an overwhelming desire to ask those with experiences I was surely going to now live for insights I reckoned I’d require.

I sat against the wall and waited for her to pause her workout. Not mincing too many words, I asked directly if her son had autism. As pleasant as I expected her to be, she said yes, and answered my next query that “Tim” was 24 years old. After revealing my own recent experience of receiving a firm confirmation that my son, Luke, had “pervasive” autism, and our struggles to begin a rigorous therapy regime, I asked how she had handled things back in the day when the support and resources we now enjoyed didn’t exist. She acknowledged it was very difficult, but made clear Tim was high functioning, not to mention wonderfully determined in every way possible. In fact, listening to her generously relate their story, I was encouraged; he lived on his own, had a job in IT, and was fully independent in near every way. This was just what I needed to hear!

Grateful for her insights, and not wanting to become a pest, I asked her what I promised was a final question, one I assumed would be innocuous enough… what about Tim’s social life? Friends? I’ll never forget the way her cheerful disposition vanished, replaced by a sad frown. No, she said simply. What do you mean, I followed up, even as I regretted broaching the subject. “Tim doesn’t have any friends, she clarified.” Girls? No. Nothing? What about work colleagues? School friends? No. “He has me and his father,” she said with a resolved sadness, “it’s a very hard thing.” All of the encouragement previously on offer was gravely diminished as I processed the heartache of loneliness my boy appeared destined to suffer. It was a devastating moment.

I thought of that conversation the other day when I learned of a YouGov poll which found 22% of US Millennials (ages 23-38) claim to have no friends… zero, nada, zippo. If it’s hard to absorb such a stat, it should be, it seems preposterous. How near a quarter of young adults could walk the planet burning every bridge they cross and arrive at a place utterly alone is hard to accept. Is the world that cruel to so many, or are there that many willfully disconnected among us?

Either way, it’s data I’m not sure how to feel about. Should I find solace that the loneliness my son suffers is shared by many more than I imagined, people without the explanation his condition provides? Or should I be angered that, while he struggles against the unfair odds nature stacked against him, multitudes of others do nothing with their blessings and now seem to share his fate? Regardless of how jaundiced the viewpoint, nobody can pretend the specter of abject isolation of more than one-fifth of adults supposedly enjoying their prime bodes well for our national community’s future, either as a body politic or greater society.

Thriving democratic systems require engaged communities. It’s hard to see those emerging when so many can’t even make a few friends. Cause or symptom? Probably both. A cycle where one end reinforces and perpetuates the other. But where either leads seems worrisome. Authoritarians feed on alienation with messages crafted to exploit what loneliness emphasizes… resentment and longing. Of course solitude can encourage insight and reflection; yet and still it’s certain a decent slice of the 22 % find MAGA attractive; lone wolves harbor the grievance Trump generously provides. In fact, let’s be honest, our stochastic terrorist-in-chief has never been too wealthy in the friendships department, himself. His tweets have always seemed a cry for connection and relevance, two attributes we once thought the nominee we elected should possess in abundance.

Luke does his best with what God has given him, but at the end of the day, even after he practices with his hockey team or even goes on an outing with kids he’s known since he could walk, friends by any other name, my wife and I (mostly my wife) must facilitate all his interactions. When we are gone…. well….. that’s not something we ponder very often yet. But Luke and those touched by the epidemic he is part of offer only goodness and the best of intentions, What of his millennial counterparts?

At press time 19 are confirmed dead in El Paso, Texas, victims of another loner armed with military-grade weaponry and apparently seeped in such bitter resentment he posted an ugly screed before carrying out his murderous tantrum. When all the facts are known it’s doubtful many will challenge the conclusion it was only a matter of when. So here we sit, with millions literally friendless and a demagogue inciting their worst, which we got another taste of today. Twenty-first century alienation is more than capable of producing what 20th century alienation gave us, and now much closer to home. An old southern blues man, maybe Albert King or Muddy Waters, sang “everybody got to have somebody, or else all they got is the blues.” That’s surely true, but what the rest of the world receives from such a situation should concern all of us. BC