Different

“Different” is the word that’s probably been used to describe me most times, throughout my life and once again I’m wondering in which parts of life I am “different”, in which “ill” and in which I am just like anyone else after all. I try not to think in strict categories (again) but especially with a personality disorder some things are so deeply rooted in my way of thinking and being that I have to learn telling quirks apart from symptoms.
Personality disorders are only diagnosed when you’re older than 18 so what made me different before that? I was just being me, wasn’t I?

I never got along well with other children but I usually got on well with grown-ups. I was scared very often but then again who wasn’t? I was bright and good at learning things but riding bikes has never been my strength. I have always liked clothes that weren’t fashionable as comfort is important to me. I could never stand smalltalk but that’s legitimate, right? To read and get to know new worlds has always seemed more interesting than parties but not everyone has to be a party person…?

I don’t know how different I really am – there are days where the people around me make me feel like I’m pretty weird and peculiar, on other days everything seems pretty harmless. And as much as I try to see that we’re all okay the way we are and that it’s good that people have different mentalities and as much as I want to live life in a pleasant way that doesn’t hurt anyone – I still note that I seem to be “different”. It’s quite difficult at times – why can’t I just be happy with the good things that are happening now because my past always gets to me? Why do people think I’m cynical when I just tell the truth? Why do even people who value me often make me feel as if I was a little…weird?
Is that the illness? My personality? The expectations of a society I don’t fulfill?

I have no idea; from my experience I have always been like that which is why I wonder what exactly I’m having treated away now. Am I like this or did I become like it and what is left of my as a person if I suddenly learn to love smalltalk and dress in clothes that are just uncomfortable (not that I intend doing so)? To what point can I be told that what I do and feel is “ill, disordered, different” and how far can and do I have to say “Hey! This is me, deal with it!”

By the way this is not supposed to be whiny and also not me begging for recognition, I just had to get my thoughts out as there have been a few situations these days where I just had this distinct feeling that my way of acting/speaking was once again different, whatever undifferent might be.

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