How to be a Human…
I’ve thought a lot about what it means to be human.
I’ve recently had the following revelation: I can never be a “normal human” because of my brain’s formatting. There are other humans who have a similar brain build, but I don’t know how to find common ground with them. I don’t know how to find them and talk to them about how their lives have been. I don’t know how to ask them for help in understanding my life or learning how to cope without falling into despair and depression.
I have no help navigating the world, and I’ve never had help because I don’t know how to ask and I don’t want pity. Life is no different now that I know there is a scientifically measurable reason for the chasm I’ve always felt between myself and other humans – I just have a “real” reason to feel like an Other. That reality causes me to feel discombobulated. I get stuck on the questions, “What’s the point?” and, “What am I accomplishing?” and, “Why am I here?”… I feel like I am constantly banging my head against a brick wall; there are no answers.
I don’t know how to reconcile this – it doesn’t even matter at all that I “really have autism” because people still act the same toward me. Except, now I feel intense sorrow each time one of my social deficits surfaces, because I realize that I don’t know what to do and will never be able to innately know what to do.
Ignoring people used to work fine because it was normal for me to be exorcised from a group. But, now it stings because there’s an extra layer of exclusion that I know about. I now know I can never, ever cross that barrier. I already knew that in a vague sense, but now I know that in a very poignant way – my brain will never change, thus I will never be able to assimilate entirely.
I am not sure why that bothers me, because I don’t actually feel the need to assimilate. I just want to feel acceptable and be able to travel through life without always feeling like people will attack me for being different. How do I recognize myself as acceptable even though I can’t “fit in”?
I have absolutely no idea. I don’t know how to think of myself as an acceptable human specimen.
There are some people who I’ve met in life who have been kind to me. But I don’t know how to have a friendship. Is it really all about meeting people a few times a week to chat in superficial terms and sip drinks? Is it really about having meaningless debates for no reason other than to gauge each other’s level of zealotry and, thus, adjust one’s attitudes while in mutual presence to avoid offending the other party?
It feels so hollow. I can’t make it make sense to me. Every conversation I have with people is confusing – how am I supposed to keep this kind of thing up for an extended length of time? I don’t really like “meeting up” or “going out”. I don’t even like talking. I’d rather just watch and listen.
It’s peculiar – I know that silence isn’t always acceptable during a social outing, but I have no idea what to talk about, so I end up talking about whatever comes into my head. And, it feels so strange to me because I don’t really want to talk about whatever is in my head, but I know I’m “supposed” to talk about something. I don’t really feel like talking most of the time, though, I just know other people become very uncomfortable when there is silence.
I envy people who have good friends. I envy their friendships, because I have never had an easy-going friendship. I have no idea what it is like to have a dependable and supportive friend. I have had close-ish friends in my life, but I still did not trust them completely. And, those instincts not to trust them were spot-on because those people eventually got tired of me and moved on.
I feel like I am just marking time. I see time passing. It passes so very slowly for me. I feel and see each second as it passes, and I am very much aware that I can’t escape this second. Every second is an infinity. Sometimes, I don’t think I can make it through an entire day. I get overwhelmed when I become so hyper-focused on time passing, because I feel trapped by this human construct of linear time.
I see the future that I want, but I have to go through this mundane and very slow present before I can get where I want to go. The only way I survive without completely losing my mind is that I see that I am heading in the right direction, and I can calm myself down by reminding myself that I can’t just skip ahead to “the good part” because it takes time for these events to unfold in the proper order for success. I already know what is going to happen, but I’m impatient because this intervening time seems so pointless.
I look at people around me – I see they’ve worked at the same job for forty years, had the same schedule and same life that entire time. And, I can’t comprehend that. I can’t understand why so many people choose to exist in that way. Is it because there’s nothing else to do? Are they just doing it because they expect to and have always expected to? Are they happy? Do they think about their lives from an external aspect?
It’s strange to me to consider that there are probably people who do not take any critical look at their lives. They just do what they do and that’s it. I cannot understand it. I get so confused, because I can’t figure out how it’s supposed to work. I think that’s why I can’t imagine living very long – because every day is so excruciatingly long already that living 60 more years seems like imprisonment.
I’m not physically in a penitentiary, so that’s something to be thankful for. At least I have some modicum of freedom. Yet, I am physically imprisoned in this body and this body’s responsibilities. I can’t get out unless I am asleep. But, I am not allowed to sleep for very long, because I have to follow the rules and get up “on time” and catch my bus “on time” and can’t take more than 20 minutes to hike to work from the bus stop, then must work a predefined amount of hours and minutes exactly so that I can have enough time to hike back to the bus stop and catch the proper bus home, and then be able to do all the necessary tasks at home before I go to sleep at a certain time so that I can get up “on time”… infinitely?
Time just drags on and on for me.
I try to fill the empty moments with knowledge: I want to learn as much as I can because my brain is always working away at problems… But, I don’t feel like it’s enough. How am I bored right now, when I have 73 things going on in my head? It’s irritating to me. I want to shut off my brain so I don’t have to think about anything at all.
But, then, I already know that if I shut off my brain and thoughts, I will also shut off my emotions and ability to be present in the moment. I will become an automaton – going through the motions and just getting from one day to the next. But, isn’t that what I’m doing now, anyway? The only difference is that I’m acutely aware of time as it passes and I am processing stimuli at a higher rate because of the details I notice.
I want to tell people about these things I think and discover and consider, but nobody has time to talk about the oddities of life. It is a waste of time. There’s no tangible proof to postulating or feeling wonder or awe or amazement or laughing at bizarrity. Socially, it is a WASTE of TIME that could be “better spent” on earning money. I am not so sure that most people do recognize the bizarre quality of the human existence. Are they humans being? Honestly, I feel like I am just being human. Are there other people who feel like this – like there is something or somewhere else we might be?
I feel disconnected from other humans. I don’t know how to connect to the people in my world in a meaningful, reciprocal way.
I don’t feel like a “real person”.
I had this thought the other day, and I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t see myself. I mean, I saw this body I am in… but it just looked like the body I am in. I recognize that human is “me”… but… is it?
I feel like I’m not this body. I have a hard time picturing my face unless I go look in a mirror. Heck, half the time I don’t even recognize my name. I don’t realize people are talking directly to me until they tap me on the shoulder or raise their voice. One phenomena is that other people can’t remember this body’s name either – I often have people I’ve been acquainted with for years call me by a completely different name – and mean it. People are surprised when they do this, becoming flustered and confused and having no idea why they’d instinctively call me by another name? I know why – because I don’t fit this body and her story. And, I think on some level, other people recognize this, even if they can’t or won’t comprehend the surreal nature of what they are perceiving.
The question is, then, do other people recognize this in themselves?
Who are we, these human beings who are being human?
Where did we come from? What are we doing NOW? Where will we go?
I cannot say, and I cannot entirely comprehend these things.
One thing I do know – the one thing that has lasted my entire existence here is that the only way I feel calm and content is when I am helping other people to be who they are. I don’t know how that works, and am not exactly sure what I mean by that statement.
But, for some reason, I feel “right” when I am explaining the bizarre nature of the world to other people. And I know that most of the time they aren’t even listening, but I still feel the need to speak about those things that are clear to me but which others may not or cannot see.
I still feel the need to reach out to other humans being human and help them through their time here. I want to help everyone in the ways that I can because I feel love for all the people stuck here, just like me. We’re all the same because we’re all being human since we can be nothing other than humans just being.
How to be a Human? Just Be.