I Have To Stop Thinking I Am Normal

 I keep forgetting I am Aspie, socially inept and a basket case of anxiety whenever another human draws near. I daresay, an average being can tell that I am "off", different, a variant, quite alien in thinking and being, within engaging in conversation with me for, oh, 5 to 7 minutes. My quirks tend to leak out readily, whether they be the nervous shifting of body weight from foot to foot, my repetition of words, phrases, and entire paragraphs; lack of eye contact and generally having little comprehension of whatever it is that they are speaking to me about. I think I may have mentioned previously that I am a validated recluse and rarely leave the house and more rarely do I engage in human-to-human conversation except with the baristas at my coffee shop and my therapist for an hour or two a week. Seriously, that's pretty much my adventure into neurotypical world, scant and infrequent.

I am on social media to maintain a thin hold of everyday reality, the happenings, the new lingo and catchphrases, and for news of the world outside my home. I see these events, group events, outings, classes, that interest me greatly, so I sign-up or express interest or ask for more information or, dare I say, I even haphazardly commit to attending. Then, reality sets in like a cold, bitch slap to the face on a warm, sunny day. My biggest issue with group events, is that other people will be there. There will be interaction, either required, thought about or wistfully entertained. I will undoubtable have little clue as to what is going on and yet I would need to remember to not look stupid and ask any questions, at all. Heaven forbid, I would be required to complete a task or series of sentences for all to see or hear amidst my roiling anxiety and shaking, shattering disposition.

I did that again, today. I had expressed interest in an event that I would have loved to attend. Then I just emotionally melted within myself with, not cowardice but awareness. Awareness of my challenges. Awareness of past events that I have disastrously attended and the fallout of emotional exhaustion for days or weeks after. Shoot, I actually kindof committed to two events in the past two days. What was I thinking? 

I am not normal. I cannot do what others seamlessly engage in. It's wishes and torture to see happenings that appeal to me. I need to be smart and aware and, quite frankly, much more realistic about who I am and what I am capable of doing.

I like, no, I love my little world of One in which I am whole, complete, and perfect exactly as I am. This world only exists within my home that I inhabit solo with my little princess puppy and two dozen thriving and dying plants. You know, I got to be real. I need to stop looking at impossible dreams that present themselves like candy too high up on the shelf. 

Be real. Be me. Stay home. I'm good.

That's my great-great grandmother who looks beautiful and cold as ice and awesome. I've been doing genealogy again.