Where wild minds come to rest
Sitting in a sandwich shop in Toronto, while eating my lunch, I noticed how tunnel visioned I really am. I was completely focused on my food, but time slipped by, as I was thinking (or day dreaming) of interesting things. All the noise, sunlight and chattery conversations faded as I went deeper into my mind. Suddenly, when finishing up my sandwich, I realized how very quiet, but also, "so very gone" I was while having my lunch. Usually, this happens at dinner time, and my family talks away, but they know that I'll eat, but "Won't Talk." At times when I don't hear a word they say, and they always assume I was somewhere else just now. Well, I guess they're right. Whether I eat or work, its all the same, I will lose track of my real present world. Even my private art teacher has made a remark that "I am deaf." When my art teacher told my dad this, well, he wasn't very pleased and he actually did bark at me....when I wasn't listening at the breakfast table. I lost my appetite, by the way. Of course, I can make a big list of people who detected my unexplained "listening problems," but I won't go further on the topic. Let's say—after they discovered it, I definitely didn't want to hang around with them again.
I do have this reserved nature about myself, which I don't totally hate. I do enjoy my solitude. In many intimate
situations, I have felt hesitant to express myself fully. I can send messages to other people that I don't wish to be around them—however, this is not true of me at all. I actually really miss these social engagements so bad, but my problem is,
I can be hopelessly introvert and interested more in my thoughts. I often wish to be more outgoing and sociable as anyone else, but I found it kind of difficult when I have Asperger Syndrome, and it gives off the wrong impressions to other people. They may think that my reluctant nature is all because of them. I often begin to panic in these regards and don't know what to do! I have found it hard to be well liked for so many years that it isn't funny. In the end, I feel very alienated.
Doing MDD, I was so caught up in this strange habit, that I was unable to make good judgements towards my external environmental surrounds. Between ages 6-30 I was unable to tell when somebody found me socially hostile or "cold" or weird or even "very stupid." When you rarely speak a word, everybody will think your so stupid! I was always struggling with social skills and anxiety, in fact, I didn't go to very many parties, because people would instantly point out that I'm just sitting there all quietly, looking all dumb and unfriendly. In fact, they'll keep asking if I'm OK. I can't even count how many times I got manipulated and bullied for rarely ever expressing myself, nor acting super outgoing.
Well, at the age of 30, I was so heart-broken because "nobody was around," I had only myself and it felt like the 'end of the world'. I believed it was forever. I was shocked at my actions in the past, especially never understanding or cluing in to what people were expecting of me, because of my ignorance due to excessive day dreaming. I foolishly expected so much from my future and was convinced good things will come. Meanwhile, in reality, everyone else found me deaf, stupid, selfish and spiteful. My mom discovered my maladaptive daydreaming and told me I deserved the outcomes and her disrespect towards me. My sister learned about it too, and she warned me how this will affect non-family members.
Looking back at my childhood and teens, I cringe with discomfort at my controversial belief system caused by MDD. I was jealous that many other young people, especially attractive types, could easily merge into a relationship starting a fairly young age. Whereas, I was unintimate with people for such a prolonged period of time, that even to this day, I am still never had a real relationship. As a result, for many years, I indulged in a fictional life that existed only in my head—a world where things work out all the time. I have had so many romantic fantasy relationships with imaginary guys and the situations felt so real.
As a result of MDD, my mom explained to me that 'I don't give a shit because I live in my head.' She's always lived outside her head, was always able to speak and interact and did have relationships with guys. I guess she knew what she was really doing—which I don't.