ngmi
お前はもう死んでいる。
- Dec 1, 2021
- 25
For my entire life, I have been incapable of talking about myself. It's been this way as far back as I can remember, since elementary school. I have no idea how to repair this lack.
"How was your day?" "What have you been up to?" "How's it going?"
These questions are overwhelming. Obviously by now I'm practiced enough at giving a reflexive "I'm fine" response, but anything beyond that feels burdensome. If it's related to my job, or asked in some kind of structured setting, then I can sometimes have an answer cached. But being asked in a context where there's a real improvised answer expected, I flounder and grasp for something, and it does not come to mind. When I do, sometimes, manage to finish an answer, I always see a disappointed look on the interlocutor's face. There was something their vague and general question was searching for, something a well-adjusted person would have, and I did not possess that thing.
Even more baffling is when I'm expected, as frequently happens in conversation, to spout personal anecdotes unprompted. At this point, you may feel tempted to reply with the stock advice "Just let the other person ramble about themself, most people love that." This advice may be applicable to someone the exact opposite of me, but it does not work when I try it. Even when I am careful to give the most engaging and polite follow-up questions possible, anyone I talk with for an extended time will get sick of this and want to hear about me. And at that point, I'll be left at a loss. Trying to pick out something pristinely anodyne, matched to both the topic at-hand and this particular person's unconfirmable preferences from the whirlwind of memories and thoughts in my brain is impossible. I have no idea how normies pull this feat off.
I nearly flunked out of school because of this problem, because there were classes that required personal introductions and assigned essays with autobiographical detail. It's cost me multiple jobs and literal hundreds of failed interviews. My social life is practically empty -- after the first brushed-off question, people will generally stop speaking to you unless forced to. And dating is obviously impossible, since the entire process of "dating" consists of such inquiries into one's life.
I'm posting about this here, of all places, because I am at my wit's end. This demon has robbed me of everything I care about, and I cannot imagine it leaving my life anytime soon. Therefore, it may as well be time for me to leave this life behind. I've been eyeing the exit sign for many years, now, the door is wide open, and I'm inching closer to it. I hope that whatever comes after this life doesn't have this useless mind of mine in it.
inb4
>If you can't talk about yourself then how did you write that post?
This post took me 2 hours to write. It's not even written well.
"How was your day?" "What have you been up to?" "How's it going?"
These questions are overwhelming. Obviously by now I'm practiced enough at giving a reflexive "I'm fine" response, but anything beyond that feels burdensome. If it's related to my job, or asked in some kind of structured setting, then I can sometimes have an answer cached. But being asked in a context where there's a real improvised answer expected, I flounder and grasp for something, and it does not come to mind. When I do, sometimes, manage to finish an answer, I always see a disappointed look on the interlocutor's face. There was something their vague and general question was searching for, something a well-adjusted person would have, and I did not possess that thing.
Even more baffling is when I'm expected, as frequently happens in conversation, to spout personal anecdotes unprompted. At this point, you may feel tempted to reply with the stock advice "Just let the other person ramble about themself, most people love that." This advice may be applicable to someone the exact opposite of me, but it does not work when I try it. Even when I am careful to give the most engaging and polite follow-up questions possible, anyone I talk with for an extended time will get sick of this and want to hear about me. And at that point, I'll be left at a loss. Trying to pick out something pristinely anodyne, matched to both the topic at-hand and this particular person's unconfirmable preferences from the whirlwind of memories and thoughts in my brain is impossible. I have no idea how normies pull this feat off.
I nearly flunked out of school because of this problem, because there were classes that required personal introductions and assigned essays with autobiographical detail. It's cost me multiple jobs and literal hundreds of failed interviews. My social life is practically empty -- after the first brushed-off question, people will generally stop speaking to you unless forced to. And dating is obviously impossible, since the entire process of "dating" consists of such inquiries into one's life.
I'm posting about this here, of all places, because I am at my wit's end. This demon has robbed me of everything I care about, and I cannot imagine it leaving my life anytime soon. Therefore, it may as well be time for me to leave this life behind. I've been eyeing the exit sign for many years, now, the door is wide open, and I'm inching closer to it. I hope that whatever comes after this life doesn't have this useless mind of mine in it.
inb4
>If you can't talk about yourself then how did you write that post?
This post took me 2 hours to write. It's not even written well.
Last edited:
