Alienation

Chapter 1

Human being

I don’t think I’m eccentric… too predictable for that. I don’t think I’m normal either… too many intrusive thoughts. I just don’t fit in, not in a way that makes me interesting, just in a way that makes even the outsiders not want to be around me. It’s not self-pity, not self-loathing, just an observation. Too normal for the weirdos, too weird for the normal ones. It’s always been like this.

That was me, the strange kid in school who sat alone in the corner, always wearing big headphones in the halls… not retarded enough for special ed but just enough for a hefty 504 and an autism diagnosis at 6… so on.

It made making friends nearly impossible. I can hold a conversation, but not eye contact… because even thinking about meeting someone’s eyes makes my skin crawl. So I’m seen as cold, closed off, unapproachable. I laugh easily, maybe too easily. My humor bends to fit the moment, but that just makes me seem like I’m trying too hard, too eager, too nice.

I don’t get it. I don’t think I’m meant to.

People are supposed to have lives—friends, family, a job, a purpose. A rhythm. A place. But me? I exist on the fringes, tucked away in isolation, surviving on disability and social security checks. Days blur together, time moves without me.

Am I truly a person?

I know I’m human. Biologically, genetically, scientifically, I check all the boxes. But am I really living? Or am I just… a sentient creature that never quite became what it was supposed to be? A species of one, stuck between existence and being.