#hermit-pride

[hermit-pride]

Day: 29.

I've had a bit of a lightbulb moment lately. While I have a handful of acquaintances, I've never really experienced what I would call a "true" friendship. I often wonder if it’s worth diving into, especially considering the emotional ups and downs that come with it. In the past, I’ve tried to cultivate friendships, but honestly, the emotional return just didn’t justify the effort. It’s a bit like my struggles with plants—I seem to have a knack for killing them, too, probably for the very same reason. Nurturing relationships, whether with friends or flora, takes patience and care, and sometimes I find that tough to manage.

For many people, the desire to maintain friendships is incredibly rewarding, making that pursuit feel almost instinctual. However, when I crunch the numbers on my own social connections, I often find myself coming up short, time and again. It’s a puzzling conundrum that leaves me reflecting on what truly matters in relationships. And why would I need to sacrifice my alone time.

[hermit-pride]

Day: 20.

Question: "Do you guys (schizoids) build strong connections to other animals or objects?". ...yes...

It's any animal for me since early childhood. They have always been a source of comfort and security for me. They don't judge, betray, talk behind your back, cheat on you, try to hurt you or anything but love you back!

I had been feeding a stray Tom cat for at least two years. Every day he showed up at the front door for his dinner unless he was on a Tomcat adventure. I had tried tirelessly to get him to warm up to me. I know cats well enough to know that we had a close bond and he was happy to be mine and vice versa but he hated it when I touched him. But he would roll around on the ground in front of me, just out of reach, with a big grin on his feline mug.

Thanksgiving Eve I brought him a little extra to celebrate the holiday. But he just laid on the ground. He allowed me to pet and comfort him for a short time then crawled under the front of the car. His breathing was slightly rapid and labored. The next morning I found his lifeless body, unmoved with fire ants all over his face. I brushed the tiny bastards off him and gave him a dignified burial in our mini pet cemetery.

My feelings were mixed. I had finally achieved my goal of giving him a little physical love. Was he too weak to resist or did he come back home to die on my doorstep knowing that at any time soon his best friend, me, would be there to bid him farewell? I miss him so much.

Snowball came home to say his final goodbye. And I will never forget him

[hermit-pride]

Day: 28.

My journey in understanding my mental health continues. Approximately one year ago, I received a diagnosis of ADHD, accompanied by a report indicating the presence of multiple traits associated with Schizoid Personality Disorder (SzPD). Although I began the process of educating myself about these conditions, I initially did not pursue therapy because the practitioner was focused solely on ADHD treatment.

A couple of months later, after experiencing feelings of depression, I sought therapy specifically to address this issue. During our session, I shared my experiences, and upon reviewing my diagnostic report, the therapist noted, "You have reason to be depressed." He suggested that individuals diagnosed with SzPD may often be on the autism spectrum. Unfortunately, after missing a scheduled video therapy session, I felt unsupported and chose to discontinue communication with him.

I am now preparing for in-person therapy next month, where I will focus on addressing childhood trauma. This upcoming session has prompted considerable reflection on my circumstances: I have ADHD, exhibit multiple traits of SzPD, and may potentially be on the autism spectrum, yet my primary goal in therapy is to explore the possibility of complex PTSD (c-PTSD) related to my early life experiences.

My research suggests that many symptoms of these conditions overlap, which leads me to believe it may be more advantageous for me to concentrate on addressing the most disruptive symptoms that cause significant distress. As a nursing professional, I often employ a method of problem-solving that involves discussing both the problem and potential solutions. This approach is not rooted in doubt about the conclusions drawn but rather serves to validate the process of finding effective strategies for improvement.

In light of this reflection, I am seeking input on whether my approach is logical and sound, particularly given the absence of a definitive diagnosis and the course of action I am planning to take.

[hermit-pride]

Day: 19.

Solitude: an addiction?

Is the reason I relish solitude because I really don't enjoy much of anything else, at least not the same as others. Nonetheless, I find a number of things satisfying. For me, masturbating is a race to the I'mrelease since the lift, I believe, is intensified because of the way my ADHD brain handles certain chemicals. A sort of non-pharma "fix" so to speak that sorts my mood.

My anhedonia speaks to me in various unique and strange ways. I seek things that provoke satisfying thoughts where other people would only see the mundane. I am intrigued because the trees have a special glow during the period of time that photographers call the "golden hour". Or the intricate and most beautiful argyle pattern the diamond back proudly wears. The amazing industry of the seven varieties of ants that share my 2.4 acres. The crow. From the way they look, act, and interact in the community of other crows. If I could be another animal for a day, it would be a crow! I would learn their many secrets. But I would decline the road kill "entree'". And the many "weeds" that sport the most delicate and stunning wild flower blossoms, to name a few...

If not for my anhedonia, I might not reach for noticinging beauty and intrigue where others simply pass by without a thought. I have always been this way.

But my anhedonia has other surprises. In the last few years I have found that my reactions to negative situations have been turned upside down! For instance, when I hit my thumb with a hammer while trying to drive a nail I CHUCKLE. Yep, true. (I haven't yet psychoanalyzed that one yet). I suppose it's the same sort of humor as when Mo gets hit on the head with a large mallet

And, yes, when I'm alone I don't have to make anyone happy. That is one of the many prizes that solitude brings. So very liberating and restful 🤍💛.

[hermit-pride]

Day: 18.

Quote: (whoisthismahn)

"There’s a part of me that hates how well I can appear to be functioning, because I play the role so well that no one would ever think to question it. I want so badly to become better at connecting, but I’ve spent an entire lifetime trying to fake it till I make it, and all I get is farther and farther away from making it. Nothing comes close to bringing the comfort that solitude brings, and the older I get the worse it becomes. It took me 25 years to realize that most people actually get rewarded with feel-good feelings when they interact with other people or get things done during the day. I try my best, but deep down, every interaction I have is coated in terror.

Also, not saying this applies to your situation whatsoever, but I spent many years believing and talking to friends and therapists about what a happy, normal family I was fortunate to be apart of. My family was a very fun, hilarious family that seemingly got along well and spent a lot of time together. But the chaos and absence of any kind of emotional support was so normalized that I truly didn’t even think to question my upbringing for a long time. So much trauma was hidden in the emotional neglect, teasing, shame, fear, etc. I had to completely shut down all the emotions of my hypersensitive childhood self in order to fit in with my sarcastic family that never took anything seriously. My parents were always physically there for anything I needed, but I never truly felt connected to either of them, and I’ve only just begun to grieve that loss". End quote.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Response:

O. M. G.!! Your post is exactly my experience. My family took care of every need--except intimacy. And I never felt or learned how to respond to intimacy. An odd set of circumstances led to a family intervention that included my parents, six siblings and their spouses. My mother's next younger sister and her husband were the facilitators.

I asked my mother why I don't remember getting hugs and kisses from her. "That's because I didn't". I was and still am a sensitive child. At age six or seven I figured out that my two older brothers teased me unmercifully because they liked to get me wound up and crying. So I stopped crying (mostly) and they stopped teasing (mostly). When I was in the second grade I had a classmate named Arlene. She was spoiled rotten, whiny, and cried when she didn't get her way. She did or said something that triggered me and I slapped her across the face. I have always been gentle and never have even been in a fight. I could never understand why I slapped Arlene. But now I do since I have the benefit of beginning to understand my schizoid personality that has been "me" my whole life🤍💛.

[hermit-pride]

Day: 9. Another thought that has been running around my head is about the object relations theory. Basically, for me it means that people are literally, "out of site, out of mind". This might seem like a bad/sad thing and something that may make having lasting relationships not work. Not sad, and not so bad as it has always been this way for me. When I was a child and sent to camp every summer I was NEVER homesick and only thought of my parents if I was expecting a letter or package like other kids. When I was highschool age I was sent to a coed boarding school. I didn't miss or think of my family much. I certainly was never home sick. As an adult I've never been close to any of my six siblings or even my parents.

My mother passed away after a long sickness. They live(d) over 3000 miles away. I was not sad except when I think about what we missed in a normal mother/son relationship. But not sad really. More just wondering...

My wife is chronically ill. I've watched her life become less and less over the past four or five years. At this point she is recovering from long covid and after 5 months remains dependent on supplemental oxygen. She has become deconditioned and doesn't spend more than 20 minutes out of bed at a time because she hurts and has little energy. I have worked in the medical field most of my life and can say with authority that she may be or live more than 5-10 years more. I don't expect her health to improve much, barring a miracle. I expect to live 30 more years. She has been my life; my salvation. I would have never adjusted to my level of functioning without her patience and love.

The reason I explain this is because the problem that I have with object relations, a schizoid trait, may make her absence less painful. I certainly hope so 🤍💛.

[hermit-pride]

Day 4. Some days I'm just fine with being a schizoid hermit. Other days I wonder what it might be like to be like the "others" until I intellectualize how the "others" actually are, what they do, and how they think. Or should I say not think.

For example, I haven't sat down and watched a TV program in at least a decade. I could probably put up with the frequent interruptions by commercials but the commercials seem so full of stupidity. Do the advertisers actually believe that I would buy their product with the way that their product is presented. Actually, they do or they wouldn't pay millions for a Superbowl slot.

And the whole spectator sports thing? Paying out the ass to be able to "experience" the game rather than getting a much better view on your plasma TV at home. The crowds. OMG! Who can put up with that.

So many things I don't understand -- designer anything $$$.

"I say, beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes." – Henry David Thoreau

So I guess the SzPD blessing is not giving a fuck about such stupid, stupid, trivial shite. And when I stop to consider what living life like the others would be like, I count my blessings.

And don't get me started on politics. That is one spectator sport that's at least a little entertaining every four years or so🤍💛.

PS. This is meant to be a "Smart Journal" and somewhat therapeutic in nature. I invite you to add thoughtful comments and criticisms in reply.

[hermit-pride]

Day: 10. Not very certain about my sexual orientation or status, if you will. I have never had a strong libido with my schizoid traits playing a key role. Sex was always a physical only thing. I remember a one night stand that I had. It was wonderful, out in nature among giant trees. Couldn't be more perfect. But I couldn't wait to get her home and leave even though she invited me in for (thirds). But I was 22 and that was so many years ago.

My wife haven't been intimate in at least ten years. And the decade before that wasn't much better. Not for lack of eagerness on her part. But she is old school and feels that if a guy doesn't initiate it's because he doesn't want it.

I am repelled by intimacy. I have, however had sex with myself once or twice a week. Not imagining someone I know as a partner, just that surge forward to ring the bell and renew my dopamine levels. I do not have sexy dreams or fantasize about sex. I don't recall being sexually attracted to another in a very long time.

But I am attracted to females intellectually. Case in point, I belonged to a gymn for a while. I would ride the exercise bikes, and hope she would show up, and then hit the steam room and shower before going to work. Let's call her Pam.

The room that is set up for exercise bikes is glassed in and the lights were always off, unless a class was in progress. Pam would come in and do a few stretches on the mats then hop on her favorite bike. Always the second from the front in the left side if facing out. She would start slow, then increase her speed. She would never sprint. After she warmed up, she would stand up while not breaking her pedalling pace and let go of the handle bars. It was graceful and pure magic!

She would ride standing for a good while then settle back into the seat. It was a dance; a thing of utter beauty and she seemed unaware that she had an audience. The process would be repeated two more times. I was pedalling in the back of the same room and could mostly only see her silhouette.

I was only able to see the solo act seven or eight times. And then I never saw her again. She would towel off then leave. I wanted to see her face. But to do so would give everything away. I marveled at her beauty of movement. But never had any lust for her.

Also, I have worked for and with dozens of managers in my nursing career but none have been held in higher esteem than my current manager. Not even close. She is the nicest (can be firm when needed but has the uncanny ability to make you somehow feel good when she provides corrective criticism). She was voted nurse of the year 2022 at which time she was also divorcing her husband. She is raising two young children, mostly by herself, she manages an ER with over 100 staff not including physicians, residents and advance practice nurses. OBTW she is at this time completing her master's degree. My word, did I leave anything out?

She is also pretty but I don't think she knows it. She reminds me of a 5'8" version of Julie Dreyfus. When she asks you to do something, there is no question. It gets done.

So she is my professional "crush". She is destined for advancement. I will miss her and remember her fondly.

So, am I asexual even though I have solo sex with no real person in mind? Or is it something else? And as you might guess I may be aromantic as well. I enjoy reading about romance occasionally but think that it is for me, unattainable. I've tried to be romantic with my wife, compliment her, bring her flowers, rub her feet. But it all feels so contrived and doesn't last. I'm a shit husband. But on the other hand I take good care of all her needs and can't imagine life without her 🤍💛.