Things happen all the time. I get blamed for feeling a feeling I’m not feeling. I get blamed for thinking something I’m not thinking. People like to say they are open minded, but I get lumped into the same arena as sociopaths and abusers even though I am not thinking of anything like them. I can’t help but fixate to details of what people say. When they aren’t scientifically accurate or anywhere close to what I’ve said or thought, I deep dive into how it’s wrong.

Is that different than anyone else? No. People accused of doing anything, especially when they haven’t, default to explaining how the other person’s logic is flawed. When the person with the flaw logic attempts to minimize my logic and explanations, it’s a slap in the face. It basically tells me that they don’t believe me, and I’m wasting my time trying to explain anything. My biggest issue with it is that they are not accurate. How can I explain how they are inaccurate so we can find more common ground if I’m handicapped by not being allowed to explain myself?

There is a part of me that wishes I could turn off my logic, make myself dumber than fuck. There is a part of me that can’t fathom how I can be misunderstood. I do realize that my intellect and logic are rarely seen in today’s world. I wish we could all have intelligent conversations where we do not interrupt each other to preemptively destroy the other person’s perception before that person gets the opportunity to express how their thought processes came to this conclusion.

I’ve been sued enough, divorced enough, laughed at enough, criticized enough, humiliated enough to be paranoid when someone won’t listen to what I feel without interruption or validation. How can I process everything that has happened when I am constantly bombarded with everything. It’s no one’s fault. I have taken on more than I should. I always try to help people. I’m overly empathetic. There’s a part of me that just wants to die. There’s a part of me that wants to live to 237. Most of me struggles to understand how anyone can confuse what I’m saying.

It’s only then that I realize that I suck at communicating. I can’t even convey the simplest of concepts that I think everyone should understand. Do I deserve to be alone? Probably. Do I want to be alone? No.

I feel so stressed and empty, yet so loved and full. I know what I want, and I strive for it every day. I think I overachieve at trying for it. It turns people off. It makes people feel like they have less movement. I don’t know what the answer is, but I do know that I’m failing at it.

It’s hard to no get depressed. Time will tell what will happen. I might be the happiest man alive, or I could be the most depressed because I fucked it up. Either is possible.