It's crossed my mind that it's possibly my own projection, and I know I bring a lot of the problems onto myself, mostly from being told often enough that I'm thinking into things too much. I'm usually caught off guard when an answer turns out to be simpler than it is, because my default thinking is assuming people go as needlessly far into depth on things as I do.
I usually recognize when I'm behaving mentally ill (which tends to usually exacerbate that), but when calm and collected they still look at me like "I don't even know what the hell I'm looking at".
What few people have seen me go through a breakdown tend to respond to it like it's contagious.
I actually had very supportive parents, but my genes came from them. More often than not I was stuck as the family psychiatrist, while they found me about as confusing as my peers. They usually handwaved it off as something common among artist types. Some of it might have even been denial, as they refused to believe I even had insomnia until I turned 18. While there may have been misunderstanding, there was no abuse at home. They always treated me like a peer as opposed to a pet.
Abuse elsewhere? I had some scrapes that messed with my head, but it didn't really change me much from who I was prior, just showed me who I could be.
Default thinking is just assuming people dissect people and read things like tells as much as I bother to. As I get to know them more however, they more often than not just coast and assume instead of analyze. I understand it more than I used to, but it used to be the single most baffling thing for me to try to understand.
"They" are majority of people. The ones who don't tend to give me that look usually have disorders themselves, and from that have a different place for which to relate to the topic at least generally.
My ex has seen the most from me, but a few others have seen me freak out at most once. Part of the attachment that had formed for her wasn't just from our history and nostalgia, but also that she witnessed me at my worst (just as I had for her), as a borderline type, and even amidst her own freak out happening empathetically she found the strength to try to comfort me through it. It was highly admirable. We both have our fair share of problems, but we always were there for eachother. We still talk and try to help eachother now, even though it'd make more sense for us to be bitter.
The things I'm talking about are mostly related to the past, so I really don't care too much about divulging.
Only real news of the night is that my ex-fiance is more and more showing her true colors as a progressively unstable selfish self-depreciating cheating harlot with no sense of direction, and a chronic case of self-victimizing to justify her behavior. Her only real improvement this time around being that she was willing to actually break up with me before fucking someone else this time.
It was a fun chat.