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Why I – m Difficult to Live With

Why I Can’t Live With Anyone

I am an utterly difficult person to live with. Before someone moves te with mij, I attempt to make it very clear that I have next to unlikely expectations that are still. expected to be met. Despite thesis warnings and conversations, I am almost indubitably undermined.

I expect a spotless house, this is certainly my character flaw. I cannot concentrate or be productive unless everything is ter it’s place, neat and cleaned. Not only the house, but the yard, the pets, my car, the driveway, the garage, my office, and of course individual hygiene.

The cleaning and neatening alone, which is a onveranderlijk battle when you live with two dudes, two cats and a long haired dog, but there’s this strange social request for respect.

I say strange, because everything I do feels strange. For mij, I feel spil however people aren’t like this. I permanently feel spil tho’ there’s something wrong with mij, because the cleanliness, the routine, the request to be acknowledged for everything I do for everyone else has bot noted spil ‘awkward’.

And yet they still choose to live with mij.

At Very first, I Thought I wasgoed OCD

I grew up ter an atmosphere that required that my sister and I maintain the household: cooking, cleaning, watching after the pets, etc. All of this while still going to schoolgebouw and being social. My sister (especially my sister) and I are pretty remarkable people.

My mother supported us by working two jobs–16 hour days. So, spil my mother spared hier needs and desires so my sister and I could carry on spil normally spil possible, wij managed to graduate with honors and grow up to be pretty gepast people. My sister may agree with mij, but wij’ve become more corriente than wij were and I’d like to attribute that to my mother’s sacrifices.

That aside, I state thesis things for a duo of reasons. One, being, that I grew up older than most people and had developed a sense of responsibility and taking care of my surroundings at a youthfull age. The 2nd is, is that I frequently wonder if I have bot traumatized by being inable to keep up with everything at such a youthfull age, but expecting myself to do so.

I very first discovered that I am insufferable to live with when I wasgoed te collegium and had my very first roommates. I always complained about their lack of individual responsibility, ter cleaning up the house which wij collective. They complained about mij being too “A-Line.” I’m inflexible. You cannot leave dishes te the drown. Everzwijn. Trash voorwaarde be taken out. Always. Floors voorwaarde be swept and mopped daily, the bathroom vereiste never showcase signs of having bot used, etc.

Sounds impractical, right? Well. it’s not, for mij.

Wij all attributed it to mij being obsessive compulsive.

But, I Think I have Aspergers.

I received my undergraduate degree te Psychology. Behavioral Psychology, at that. The mind has always fascinated mij. Why do wij do what wij do? The selfish part, is that I indeed wished and want to know why I do and say the things that I do.

My skill of the mind has seemed to have opened flood gates to a vast world of possibilities, but there are two likely reasons for my deeds: OCD or Aspergers.

I’m leaning towards Aspergers for a number of reasons: One I choose not to disclose, but there is enough other evidence:

Learning Without Attempting

1. I have a photographic memory. I never had to attempt very hard ter schoolgebouw or collegium for that matter. I always procrastinated work, because I knew I could ‘explore’ the night before and ace the exam.

Studying, for mij, required reading the chapter and the end. I didn’t have to repeat anything to myself, I didn’t need flash cards, I didn’t need to review notes, I didn’t need ‘all nighters’, or examine groups. I read the textbook and wasgoed done and with about 90-100% accuracy wasgoed able to regurgitate all I needed to know. This is the best the part of maybe having a disorder. I love this part about mij.

Two. I am terrible at math, basic math even, but I am outstanding at being able to memorize number series. Phone numbers, dates, license plates, driver’s license numbers, social security numbers, and report numbers to just name a few.

Ter addition, I am able to determine the time of day without having looked at a clock–within Ten minutes.

There are visible advantages.

And Then the Disadvantages

The worst part is, is that I have little empathy. I can sympathize, sure, but empathy. It frustrates mij when people are upset, because I don’t understand why they would express it. To mij, it seems so inappropriate.

I embarrass myself when I feel like I’ve voiced too much of my emotion. I did the other day at work, and it just made mij feel worse.

I can’t sob. At least not very often. Sometimes I think if I could just sob I would feel better about everything, but I can’t seem to find enough reason to find this act suitable. Unless someone has died or I feel that someone has misunderstood mij to such an elevated degree. I just dwell on it and wonder what’s wrong with mij.

And then, there is this: Very likely what people know mij the best for is that I frequently sound angry and agitated, when ter fact I’m feeling nothing. I think I’m joking, but it just sounds so verdadero and total of emotion that people are waterput off. I can’t help it.

I reminisce being on the phone with my mother and having said something to hier she responded: “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so upset?” And I wasgoed dumbfounded and replied, “. Mom, there’s nothing wrong, I’m not upset or mad, it just came out that way.”

I don’t understand inflections.

Further More.

My attention to detail is not on purpose, it’s what I see. I concentrate on the puny things that make up the larger part of the entire. You have to work your way inwards out te order to see the entire. To mij, the most minuscule parts are just spil significant spil the entire ordeal.

And I can understand why this is why I can be frustrating. I need to get into the fibers, I need to understand every facet of the situation, or fabric, or problem to truly understand how to treat it. This is also why I’m so terrible at responding to phone calls, text messages and facebook posts. I think: This doesn’t need instantaneous attention, they’ll leave a message or express the importance of getting back to them if they truly need to get a hold of mij.

I don’t usually call people unless they call mij. It’s not that I’m not thinking of them, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just not serving an instantaneous purpose.

It sounds terrible, but it’s how I’m able to function without being totally dazed by the entire world. I can’t overeenkomst with every fiber of the universe, let alone needing to decipher emotion ter order to react appropriately. Social interaction, for mij, is utterly wearisome and tremendous to the point that I need to flee.

Deviation from routine elicits debilitating funk attacks.

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