Ways in which I am weird

When ‘weird’ is defined by ‘not adhering to what most people would consider normal’. Then again, who said that they knew what normal is? And it does turn into ‘list of idiosyncrasies’ later on, which is not quite the same, I guess. 

  • I am an introvert.
  • I am depressed.
  • I am asexual.
  • I am bisexual. Bi-romantic would be a better word, given the previous point.
  • I still sleep with a stuffed bear.
  • I try to journal by hand on wobbly trains.
  • I have a lot of stress, apparently.
  • I live at home.
  • I talk to cats who don’t even live here (as in, cats I meet on the streets. Not imaginary cats.)
  • My boyfriend is 22 years older than I am.
  • I have a deep aversion to talking about myself.
  • I think faster than I can talk or write. When talking, this can lead to me changing what I am saying two or three times before I reach the end of the sentence.
  • I worry about my gender-identity.
  • I worry I have chronic illnesses (like T2 diabetes), despite showing no symptoms of being anything other than healthy. -Ish.
  • I don’t know if I have the energy to have friends.
  • I talk to inanimate objects.
  • I believe things come to life when you’re not looking.
  • Inanimate objects have feelings and maybe souls.
  • I am afraid of things that go ‘Bump’ in the night.
  • I have people living in my head. Well, one extra person.
  • I don’t like being touched. As in, at all. Exceptions exist, of course, but on the whole, don’t touch me. Or pull my hair when you’re complimenting me on my reading that morning. (WTF, lady at church?)
  • I hate being in large crowds.
  • I have no to low self-esteem. (Team Dean for life, yo!)
  • Everything can be related back to pop culture. Everything.
  • I destroy shoes. (They don’t seem to last beyond six months before breaking down.)
  • I have this total need to record things. (Like this list. And the weather. And keeping a diary. And where I parked my bike. Because I am afraid that I will forget where I left it in the parking [this has happened to me.] and I will have to keep wandering the aisles looking for it until the end of time [it’s open 24/7] or until they kick me out for being a nuisance. Or I meltdown because of the frustration.)
  • I don’t handle frustration well.
  • I have no spatial awareness (as in, where I am in relation to other physical objects. Hence, I keep walking into things the entire damn time. Including the coffee-table, which has been in the same place for at least the past 10 years, and yet I seem to keep forgetting where it is.)
  • I get obsessed easily, but it never lasts long.
  • I am somewhat obsessed with the spider living outside our kitchen window.
  • Seeing the moon makes me happy.
  • Being out in traffic makes me nervous.
  • I am doing bullet-journalling wrong. You’re not supposed to do ‘normal’ journalling with it, right? Ah, fuck it. It’s meant to be flexible.

9 thoughts on “Ways in which I am weird

    1. I phrased it a bit poorly, I admit. It’s not that I don’t have any friends (you and Richard would be very surprised at that, I’d imagine ;)). It’s more that I wonder if I have the energy for more.

        1. This is also true. And something that came up during therapy. Still, it’s hard to not think there’s something wrong with you if you don’t want a large group of friends.

        1. I’ve watched up to Season 5 (out of 11 or something. I’ve lost count.) It’s not bad. And I am totally a Dean-girl.

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