Chapter 11, "Dating and Friendship in Europe."

My name is Matthias. I'm from Malta. I am 33 years old. One of the things I've struggled with the most in my adult life and in transitioning to adulthood is making friends.

I went to live and study abroad in Ireland for a course of studies specifically designed for people with epilepsy. It's the only one of its kind in Europe. At first, I was doing an engineering program. But I switched to IT because they told me I couldn't do it with my epilepsy.

The school aspect itself was fine. But on the whole, maintaining social relationships, friendships, and romantic relationships was a big problem, especially when I was down and my bipolar disorder would play a big influence.

I'll give an example. I met a group of French international students. One time, they invited me through the window to join them at a house party. I didn't understand why, but we hit it off. Later on, I saw them all going to someone else's house for a different house party. I took offense because I thought I wasn't invited.

So I literally just followed them. I showed up at their doorstep, saying, why didn't you invite me. I was crying. I was angry. And they said, no, we like you. It's just it was a short-notice-planned house party. And we didn't have the opportunity to invite you. After that, those bridges became burnt. And they didn't speak to me again.

I used to become very paranoid about what other people would think or say about me. I was terrified about every single word that came out of my mouth and whether it might be interpreted as rude. I understand that everyone has their bad days. But when someone I knew would snap at me or be distant, I would misinterpret that and jump to conclusions that they didn't like me or that I must have done something to them.

So then I would become resentful and wouldn't go speak to them again. Other times, I would randomly snap and go off on them, based on my faulty perception of reality. It was fairly irrational and not something I'm particularly proud of. I still feel embarrassed about it.

Being among groups of people was difficult, especially being in an environment where there were people from so many different cultures and countries. People interpret or misinterpret compliments and casual conversations very differently. Even in Europe, where we have two countries right beside each other, France and Germany, their social interactions are very different. So imagine being in an environment where there's people from no less than 20 different countries. That's what it was like. And that was a challenge.

I had a tendency to pick up heavy conversational topics like politics and religion. And many of those around me just weren't interested in that. Part of me would realize that they were uninterested or annoyed. But I just kept going. And I couldn't stop myself talking.

Sometimes, even now, I get those days where I just talk, talk, talk. I can be a chatterbox and presume that the other person is interested in the same topics I am. I'm not a small-talk guy. Again, I had those topics that I wanted to talk about, and I just did it. Eventually, I learned to pick up small talk and how to do it. But I don't like it.

Story of a girl. The worst social mishap by far was my second year in Ireland. I had just turned 19. And there was a girl I really fancied. I didn't have the guts to tell her verbally. So I wrote her a Romeo-style letter and posted it to her door. I don't know if I was too straightforward in the letter, but it completely freaked her out. And I was told to keep my distance.

I tried to talk to her in person, other instances, and we fell out severely. She threw a beer on top of me and slapped me in the face hard. Her and her group of friends turned to relentless emotional and verbal abuse for months. It was terrible.

There was a brief brush later one time in a pub. I threw some beer at her feet. The Irish take their alcohol seriously. And apparently, that counted as assault, or so I was told.

There was another instance where we were living in the same complex. And she punched me twice in the side of the head. I didn't hit her back. But later on, when I was drunk, I went to her door and started kicking and screaming and swearing. I wrote another letter for her, which was much more aggressive than the original Romeo-style letter. I left it with the receptionist for her. It's another moment I'm not proud of.

Shortly after I left the letter, I got a call from the disciplinary committee of the college. She filed a complaint that I was harassing her. They told me that I should take a year break, which was a polite way of them saying that I was suspended for a year. A little after that, the doorbell rang, and I panicked. It was the landlord and two cops telling me I was being forcefully evicted and charged with verbal abuse.

It was a very scary process going through all this 19. I had never had any problems with law enforcement before. So it was a whole new thing for me. I actually rang up the sergeant and was very emotional. Fortunately, he was a bit sympathetic. He said, I know it's difficult being a foreigner living on your own.

The legal process still had to play out. When the case went to court, my defense attorney just told the judge, he has mental health problems, and he's back in Malta now. So the case was thrown out. And that's the end of that one.

I learned a lot of lessons from that whole experience, one of them being that it is really important to think things through before you do them. Also, if you don't understand something, particularly if it is in relation to someone else, ask for clarification so that way, you are not assuming things or that the other person is against you.

Advice for others. After that incident, I went back to Malta. Fast-forward some time later, and I did the ADAS test. From the age of 15, I had seen neurologists, speech therapists, you name it. And then one day, the truth came out, and I got the results saying that I have Asperger's syndrome. That was a shock to me, but it was also a relief.

For all those years, I was coming and going to one counselor and psychotherapist to another because of depression. To have a conclusion, that changed my life. I understood why I had so much trouble in social situations and controlling some of my emotions. It gave me a road map as far as how to figure out social skills. I know what to avoid during social interactions. But I also know how to be myself.

I'm not too fussed with what other people think or say about me. I am comfortable in my own skin because I know who I am. And I am realistic with myself. I am me, and that's what matters.

That would be my primary advice to other people. No matter your experiences or how bad you feel, you have no idea how limitless the possibilities are when you stop giving a toss about what other people think or say about you, even if you didn't have ASD. My difficulty with social interactions is not an excuse. It's a reason. It's not something I can control instantaneously. It's who I am, and I love myself for it.

You cannot be friends with everyone. And you're not going to be liked by everyone. I went to extraordinary lengths to bend over backwards so that I could be liked by people just for the sake of being accepted. And that was a mistake. Few words are sometimes better than many. I know it's a cliche, but don't change who you are. Be yourself. Getting that diagnosis gave me the road map for self-acceptance. And it's something I practice every day.