Rant to Try and Feel Better

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I don?t even know why I?m writing this. Especially now. Maybe sharing a journal entry can be a form of some narrative therapy that could be good for me.

Decided a few days ago to not ?walk the line? at my university graduation. Doing so, would just be another chance for something else to go wrong. Don?t want to deal with my bullies, I thought that crap was supposed to end in high school ? finding out that it continues on, only to take another form.

I?m tired of it. Always pretending that I want to be super-social, when I?m not naturally wired that way. Trying to enjoy other ?small talk? topics of conversation when maybe I just want to play a word game or be alone. Just a couple of minutes ago, I got a text message and did not even respond to it because it would be pointless chit-chat or them expecting me to be a doormat at 11:00pm at night.

Everyone thinks I?m stuck on myself when nothing could be further from the truth. Just one other HUGE misconception about me that makes me feel so removed and ostracized by others. If I don?t try hard enough, people get worried?assume that I?m depressed and don?t care. If I try what seems ?too? hard than people think that I just want attention or are so fragile within their own ego that they project that my successes make them look or feel bad about themselves. It?s weird.

And the same goes for just being my f?ing self. If I say or do what I want to do?people hate me, and nobody wants to be friends. But, if I say what they ?want to hear? people think that I?m some freaking Pollyanna Perfect doll and that gets on their nerves. It is striking, the dichotomy. And to be quite frank, it makes me sick.

More importantly, the guy that I like is taken?with no end in sight to that. Truth is, I do actually want him to be happy, whether it is with someone else or me. Besides, I think he needs someone stronger than himself, and I?m barely struggling to keep my own head above water. I fear that trying to carry his lifeless body to shore would only be dead weight that might ?drag me under the current? with him. That is too big of a risk for both me and him. I gave up on that a few weeks ago. Just checked out from the idea of an ?us.? We are two separate persons anyhow that each need to work on our own self. The thing is, I do still want to be with him, but know it would not be practical. It was nice being around someone that seemed so familiar. Being with him was like looking into a mirror. I suppose that it should be of no surprise that he also has autism. His presence was the only one that made me feel somewhat normal.

Yeah. Even though I?m a psych major, I rarely try to self-diagnose myself. However, for the last several months, I?ve finally determined exactly how and why I?m different. No, I don?t mean a good, unique or special snowflake different. I mean annoyingly different to others. I have autism.

It explains so much now. The way I hate the way my tags in my shirts all drive me crazy. The way I absolutely hate to hear the sound of a crying baby, which as a woman, makes me feel even more inferior than I already do. The way when I walk into a room and I hear all these loud voices melding together into one huge conversation and that it gets so loud that I cannot even hear my own self think and I feel like having a complete meltdown. The way I dislike having to force myself to look into someone else?s eyes simply because of some long-standing social convention that makes it supposedly rude if I do not gaze directly at them. The way I feel so mad because of being misunderstood or always having to explain myself. The way over the years I've been obsessed with certain topics, now known as "special interests." The way I still can?t stand certain drinks or foods because they taste/seem too strong in flavor. The way video games and computers make more sense to me than people do. The way I always manage to piss everyone off without even trying.

I apologize for the long rant (aka dissertation). For anybody who made it to the end of this ? thank you for taking the time to read it. It felt pretty good to get it out on paper.

I read all of it, but I'm an awful at speaking when I'm tired.

As for the last paragraph, welcome to the club. I also personally dislike self-diagnosis (obviously since you're a psych major you can diagnose yourself), which is why I'm going to go to a psychiatrist to confirm what I already know. For some reason having that little piece of paper saying that this is not a dream, that all these things that describe my life are real and this is why I've had all these odd issues my whole life will make a difference. I can't logically say why.

I understand the ranting, I do it and have had people comment that it's an aspie trait. Oh, and I actually have holes in some of my shirts where I've ripped the tags out in anger, then put the shirt back on. I'm sort of dark (guess you could say goth, but I hate labels) in my dress, so I don't care about holes in my clothes.

Thank you for the reply IAmTheCatalyst.

Lately, I have felt like collapsing inside of myself - it's not been fun. Me and another person have been walking outside in nature 3-4 days a week and that has only alleviated my intense feelings some, so am trying to push myself to write more as a healthy way of venting out my frustration and other emotions. The biggest thing that am finding it helps with is less with working through those issues and more with sorting out my thoughts and processing for better solutions.

I was in school in the 90s in a rural area. Where we were at, we only had the preps, jocks, geeks, etc. Goth hadn't come on the scene. But it is ironic that you mention that word. In high school I wrote a mix of poetry, however it was mostly sad depressing pieces with stanzas about unrequited love or deep anguish. Had suicidal ideations, but no idea (at that particular time, as a teen) what to do with that. Also, I loved the color black and was pretty eccentric. Years later, when goth came on the scene...I joked with my sister that I was "goth" before goth was even a thing, haha. She agreed with that.

Yeah, I know that feeling. It's probably why I got into art and music at a young age.

My aunt would always yell at me "Don't you have enough black things!? Get something with a different color!" haha. I also like dark red and purple. I only have one white shirt, but I never wear it.