The Definition of Insanity

Realizations

August 13, 2020

Last night I wrote an entry about my response to a prompt contest. At the time, I considered it rather terrifying and I have no doubt that the hesitations will grow once I go back to my fathers house, though that’s neither here nor there.

I am happy I wrote the entry but I’m beginning to see a pattern with what I share. I’m writing shallow pieces, useless anecdotes, and entries that all revolve around sexuality. I’m trying to say it doesn’t matter what you feel while also making everything about what you feel.

It makes for rather poor reading, as well as being a pathetic line of reasoning. There are so many things I could be discussing because they could be changed. I’m just focusing on the one thing that can’t be changed. Therefore, I will only do that now if it’s absolutely necessary.

Another thing I noticed was that I was dodging certain topics. Things like actual emotions, fears, hopes, were not being shared. It’s scary to tell people, which is why I decided to ignore it all. Though I’m not sure if it was a conscious decision as it is something I’m just beginning to see.

A month or so ago I wrote a piece about how I hate being touched. It was short and didn’t really talk about the effects or causes. Truth be told, I don’t know why I hate touch, I just do. But I do know the effects of it.

My family gets upset when I move away from a hug, or jump when the contact is unexpected. It can be as simple as my brother putting his hand on my shoulder and I instinctively lean away. Or, it might be my grandmother standing a bit to close and I take a step back. I like my personal space. It’s comforting.

There isn’t a reason for any of it, it is just how I am. I wish they understood that. Actually, my older brother does, he just chooses to ignore it. It’s irritating because he’s autistic and doesn’t really like touch either, but he’ll randomly hug me. He’s high functioning and eighteen years old, so I’m not making an excuse for it anymore. I’m tired of making excuses for him.

My life is good. I’m lucky. I know it could be a lot worse, so there’s not much I would change. And my brother is 1000x times better then he used to be when we were little kids and preteens, so it’s okay, too. I just wanted to get my thoughts out.

¡Adíos! 🍪