In general, I’m a pretty happy person. On a scale of 1-10, I’d say I average somewhere around a 7-8 in my every day life.
Sometimes, though, I feel like there is something wrong with me.
Mostly it’s some vague niggling thing in the back of my mind that lives there quietly and doesn’t bother me. In a lot of ways, I just don’t seem to function like other people in the world, and that’s okay. I realised this long ago and slowly, but I do remember some pivotal moments where I made decisions that changed who I was in the world. We all do this of course, and we all think we are special snowflakes, right?
Occasionally though, this feeling peaks and I look at myself and feel like screaming, “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
The annoying thing is that for someone with what I think is a pretty healthy level of self awareness and introspection, I can’t put my finger on what it is or why and I have no clue how to fix it. An early symptom of it is that I lose the desire to write, even for myself. I can’t organise my thoughts, can’t hold firm to ideas, exercising that intellectual energy suddenly becomes all too hard.
You will see it in this post, written in this frame of mind. It veers from one vague thought to another and ends some 180 degrees from where it started. I’m not going to edit it. It probably illustrates what the wrongness feels like more clearly than the words.
I wonder sometimes if I have some kind of mild mental glitch: a touch of ‘something’. I have no idea what. Just something ‘not quite right’. I used to be worried that I was some kind of low level sociopath due to the way I was detached from most people, seemed to have no need for human connection, have such a weird disinterest in bonding, though I’ve looked it up enough times to double check and I don’t have the lack of empathy that seems to define it. I’m not sure if there is such a thing as a ‘neutral’ sociopath: Someone who doesn’t engage with other people like a normal person, but who doesn’t wish to harm anyone to further my own ends.
On the rare occasion when I actually make a connection with someone, I feel ‘normal’. Or what I imagine normal feels like. Perhaps ‘whatever is wrong with me’ is part of why the connections I do make are so all-consuming for me. They are so rare and precious that I value them beyond imagination and throw everything I have into them.
And these kinds of thoughts come to the surface when I’m feeling like I am now. A vague kind of worry and discomfort, a restless flightiness. I am not myself.
I don’t feel ‘depressed’ exactly, but I do feel adrift, restless, obsessive, unfocussed and everything is just so much trouble. I’ve read enough to know that that might be some kind of mild depression. The feeling doesn’t stop me functioning: I go to the gym, I do pilates, I interact with people normally, all that. But underneath it feels like I’m struggling.
I know something is wrong with me, and part of how that manifests is that it highlights ALL THE THINGS THAT ARE WRONG WITH ME. Like some dark creature that feeds on itself. I’ve been here before and I know it will pass. It’s just frustrating.
I still remember a long ago ex saying to me, “You always do what you want, but you’re never happy.” I’ve thought about that a lot over the years and it scares me to think that he might be right.
Sometimes I fear that I don’t know how to be happy.