yeah, i know. drowning feels a lot more painful. because of the panic attack.
by CorcyraIf you had the choice would you prefer to remain as you are, or instead be just like every other "neuro-typical" sap out there? Which would you choose and why?
Assuming you consider yourself abnormal of course.
For the past 6+ years I've spent most of my life absorbed in the internet, which has caused me even more problems relating to my peers. Because nobody in real life wants to hear about all my elaborate fantasies involving Thrill Kill and other internet users or all about the newest meme going around, or my countless trolling escapades. But I'm in the process of changing my character and interests in order to better deal with my local generation. I'm going to be considered "off-ish" no matter how I act, so I'm thinking if I can fit myself into that generic tree-hugging sarcastic libertarian hipster type persona, it will explain any oddities better. Also it never pays to be too nice and I'm thinking I can really get this whole social interaction relate to your peers thing down through forcing myself into pop culture and developing an I-don't-care-about-anything-but-I-care-enough-to-try-this-hard-which-is-ironically-cool-so-you-should-appreciate-my-depth-and-invite-me-to-all-the-parties-with-the-other-cool-kids attitude. And then I'm going to get a tattoo and have this elaborate emotional story behind it to appear deep and cool. Also I'm going to do dramatic coming out stories to people when I want to establish deep lasting connection. "I-I have something I've been hiding.... I-I-I don't usually tell anyone... tears start welling.... but I feel like I can trust you. I haven't even told my parents, but... I'm gay..." And then I start crying and they start crying and we hold each other and bond. And then they tell me... "It's okay. I understand. I'm bisexual." Then I'm going to start being overly self-critical in that really irritating way, like "I hate my hair. Do you think this knee is bigger than the other? You're not paying attention to me! Look at my fucking knees. Tell me, does that one look swollen? I'm so fucking ugly, look at me I'm fat! I'm so fat! I'll never be as thin as all the girls in those pretty black and white thinspo blogs. I can't stop until I see my bones. I want to look as dead as I feel on the inside. My soul is black and my demons are coming out. I need more mascara. Give me the mascara before I kill myself. Tell me I'm pretty or I'll cut off my fucking legs. TELL ME I'M PRETTY. Validate me or I'll keep writing shitty poetry and cutting off little chunks of my thighs everytime someone gives me a mean look. If you don't tell me which one of my knees looks the best, I'm going to bash my head into the wall a couple thousand times and then cry myself into a coma while listening to a combination of breakcore, generic top 40s hits, and shitty indie rock music I pretend no one's ever heard of all playing at once to really get that feeling of refined culture."
But really though, I am trying to fit in with my peers. It's working, but it needs to work in a way that isn't exhausting.