r/Schizotypal

I've sme weird case of paranoia. It's gotten to the point I've to always check my locks b4 bed incase sme kidnapper or murderer walks in. Also cnt look in the mirror in case it's 2 way and am always worried my phone cameras watch me. Also feel like someone's following me or watching me at all time. I also don't think freely and limit my thoughts incase ppl cn read minds through physical contact or whatever. (all of these are not to the extreme)

I'm still a teen in highschool(if tht helps)

Wht do you guys think?

I am so tired. I hate all of the "why are you crying? It's going to be okay, it's not a death sentence", "you will get better after therapy", "you will learn compensatory strategies", "it's been two years since diagnosis, you should have coped already", "you will be okay" - I KNOW. I am aware! But you said yourself - it's not fully curable. I can't become like everyone else entirely. How can i get over the fact, that my whole life i will have to compensate and exert three times more effort than people without any disorders or anything like that! Things they can do without thinking - i have to catch myself before i act on my usual impulse and tell my loud mind to shut up and compensate. I have no doubt I'll get better at some point of my life. But that doesn't change the fact that this PD with me FOREVER. Why can't no one just understand what i mean? I am only 18, it feels so shitty knowing, that i will be different forever. I honestly don't want to seek anything optimistic in this. I just want to be understood and accepted.

My thoughts stick together like glue. They have no meaning or purpose. Today is the same as all other days. I see the world from your point of view.

i look down at. myself and see nothing but a man made of depression. I have no redeeming qualities.

I just wish people saw me for who i was. rather then who i pretend to be. No that's not right either. None of it os right anymore and i should just stpp being so dissonant and confused.

My world is held together by sticks and stones. It feels distant. Like you're looking through a hole in the ground. The loneliness is beautiful and quiet but intoxicatingly loud and all consuming. Put on a gas mask and run from the slowly all consuming voids in your life.

Please don't hurt me anymore.

Schizophrenics live less long than the general population. I am not here for a long time, but I will be here for a good time.

I am madly in love with life, in spite of its relentless brutality.

Today I am 32 years old. I estimate I will be around for another 18 years before my organs give out.

I read that schizophrenia shortens a life with 25 years; the shortening is caused by shitty living: too many pizzas, beers, and cigarettes.

Those three things happen to be among my favorites. Perhaps it is a self-fulfilling prophecy, but I don’t think I can take this living very long.

Time is tearing me a new one. Life is extremely intense; even at cozy Italian restaurants I can feel my unruly nerves.

I love well-cooked food. I was put on this planet to indulge on various delicacies. I am simply here to appreciate fine cooking. I love hanging out at restaurants.

I have been blessed with the ability to appreciate, to indulge. I take visiting restaurants seriously.

I never go to the fancy places — my economy does not allow it. I target mid-tier Italian, Spanish, Chinese, and Japanese joints. I usually order beer and coffee with my succulent meal. On my deathbed I will know I experienced good cooking, that I occasionally managed to get my unruly nerves under control, and got peace from my mental anguish.

I knew it was going to happen, she was old... She died peacefully in front of my eyes, after cuddling with me, after I scratched behind her ears as she loved it. She was just a tiny mouse, but a part of me died with her. I raised her since she was just a baby, every single day spent with her. I want to believe she had a good life, she knew I loved her.

I can't show how much this affected me to anybody. It's like I have to protect this memory of her, to hide it deep inside my heart, so no one has access to it, but me. I can't trust other people to see how much she meant to me, because it would make me too vulnerable.

I feel so empty inside now.

Sometimes I cannot speak. Sometimes a conversation is impossible because I stop speaking because I do not have the words to speak. Sometimes I can hold a conversation easily & make it enjoyable. Sometimes I mix languages together because I cannot articulate my thoughts properly - the words escape me. Other times I am articulate in multiple languages - the words do not escape me.

Sometimes I explain myself so little that no one understands what I am saying and misinterpret my words. Other times I explain myself so thoroughly that they cut me off before I finish my point.

Sometimes I say A but people understand B. No one seems to understand what I am saying yet they believe they do.

I hate questions I have to answer, or situations where I am required to speak.

I wish I didn't have to speak ever again.

fin.

As if it is a collective force and it is trying to resist the awareness of truth by traits such as authoritarianism, collectivism, materialism etc. A spiritual warfare as they say. Do you feel like you're life is a hero's journey? What’s something incredibly obvious that most people seem completely zombified about?

Someone I’m close to insulted the way i speak. Also called it “formal” (in a way that felt like it was in bad faith). I feel fucking terrible about it!

I don’t know how to make things better. Does anyone have advice on what to do? I’m seriously really upset because I felt like I wasn’t getting judged for my speech but apparently I was this whole time.

Do I change my words completely maybe and try to be ”normal“? Or do I just try to like tone done the “formality” that is apparent in my speech? I don’t know exactly what is and isn’t but I could try.

Hello. I'm a woman in my twenties. My problem is that I think too much. I need to study, but a particular thought keeps surfacing and I can't concentrate. I've been cycling through the same theme for a very long time and I can't escape it. It doesn't make sense to me either — I should just be able to think about something else, but I can't. I've tried creating things I love, building happy memories with people I care about, hoping to crowd out these thoughts, but that doesn't work either. I'm terrified that I'll never break free from them. Let me explain what this is all about.

It started when I was around five years old. Something deeply shocking happened. I was in a space that no one else could see — there was a kind of transparent wall between my inner world and the outer world where other people lived. I couldn't get out. Inside that inner world, I was experiencing something deeply wrong. It wasn't something visible, but something was constantly pressing down on me, suffocating me, tormenting me. The pain was real. I cried for hours every day.

People would ask what was wrong, but because of that invisible barrier, I couldn't speak. Sometimes words wouldn't come out at all. I was generally a child who could talk, but looking back, I may have had selective mutism. I wanted so badly to reach the outside world but couldn't, and I couldn't speak either — I felt helpless and terrified.

That memory affected me for a long time. Even in high school, I'd suddenly be reminded of it and tears would fall in the middle of class. Now the memory has faded and I feel more detached from it. The transparent barrier was most intense when I was five or six, and I could still sense its presence to some degree in elementary school. There was also a persistent feeling that something was wrong with the world.

One memory I recall vividly: as a child in elementary school, I prayed to God through tears, begging to be made blind. Looking at things in front of me was too frightening. I don't know exactly why, but something felt visually wrong, and I felt crushed by some enormous presence. I tried to separate my mind from my body — I wanted to escape the pain I felt in my body.

I believed I had an illness unknown to the world. I kept it hidden because I thought people would laugh at me or think I was strange. The goal that kept me going was to stay alive long enough to figure out what this illness was.

My teenage years were mostly spent sleeping. I slept through classes, breaks, and at home. One of my teachers thought there must be trouble at home. I kept myself in a constant state of mental fog and drowsiness — it felt like the only way to survive.

And then I became an adult. I thought it was finally time to get serious about uncovering this illness. I was certain it wasn't something unique to me alone. I believed there was a biological universality and pattern to all things, and that belief gave me great comfort and hope — if I could find a name for it, I could find a community of people who'd had the same experience, hear how they'd lived, and get help. I thought I'd find emotional solace in knowing I wasn't alone.

So I threw myself into what I called my "find my illness" project. But no matter how hard I looked, I couldn't find anyone I could say with confidence had experienced exactly what I had. Something always felt slightly off. I grew exhausted and lost hope. This was around the time I was twenty-two.

My university years brought their own difficulties. I enrolled in an art school and made friends — people I'd smile at in the hallways, eat meals with, visit cafés with. But communal life was hard for me. It wasn't that I disliked my friends, but the act of socializing, saying hello, holding conversations — all of it felt unbearable. I wanted to move through university completely alone; that felt like freedom to me. Part of why I eventually changed my major was that desire for solitude. After that, I went to school without speaking to anyone.

Though I wasn't entirely alone — a high school friend had come to the same university. During my first year, I thought we'd grown closer than anyone. But she apparently didn't feel the same way. One day she suddenly got angry. She said she found it so frustrating that she couldn't have a real conversation with me, and demanded to know what was wrong. That terrified me. I was afraid she'd sensed the "mysterious illness" I'd been hiding. I thought that if I told her, she'd see me as broken, and I couldn't bear to have my inadequacy exposed. I ended up cutting off all contact with everyone I knew, and for the following five years, I had almost no personal conversations with anyone.

During those five years, I unraveled. I began to think that if I couldn't identify this illness, I should just die. Death felt like the only exit. Cutting people off was partly driven by that thinking.

During university, my symptoms were mostly visual. When something felt visually wrong, I could barely endure it. Even going to a café or restaurant with family felt impossible to tolerate; sitting in a lecture hall was the same. Talking to people, working, dating — these all require keeping your eyes open, and I didn't believe I was capable of that.

Anger and isolation pushed me toward increasingly extreme thoughts. I became consumed by the idea of harming people, making the news, and using that to expose my illness to the world. I was frightened by the thought myself, but I felt cornered — as if there was no other way.

Later, when I lay down, I'd feel as though someone was coming to kill me. I had fears that my brother was trying to kill me, that friends would show up at my door to hurt me. Rationally, I knew there was no reason for this, but it felt real and terrifying.

Eventually I thought: no one would believe me anyway. So my mind shifted — I'd build a proper life, a career, relationships, and then act. Once I'd decided that, I felt strangely calm. But my body had changed.

Around that time I started going to a study academy, and I couldn't sit still in the classroom. I wanted to bolt — it felt like being inside a horror film, unbearable. It felt as if I'd been dropped into a wrong version of the world.

After starting risperidone, the world became peaceful. Though I was extremely drowsy. At that point I was genuinely worried I was losing my mind — I suspected early psychosis. So I opened up fully to my doctor about my past and all these strange thoughts.

My doctor said: the symptoms could appear in schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, severe depression, personality disorders, or PTSD, but it's difficult to assign a specific diagnosis — I was straddling the line between illness and normalcy. Antipsychotics were essential, I was told. For example, aripiprazole at a minimum of 20–30mg. So I took antipsychotics.

After moving, I went to a new clinic. The new doctor saw me as having depression with trauma, and said antipsychotics were unnecessary. I've been off them for about a year now and haven't noticed anything dramatically wrong. I lost confidence in that clinic and moved again. The next doctor looked at me and immediately diagnosed me with schizotypal personality disorder. That was a confusing and hard diagnosis to accept. I switched clinics again. My current doctor simply says he doesn't know. He says he can't get a read on me and finds it hard to help.

In my third year of university, after being told I may have had autistic tendencies as a child (by a doctor, though not as a formal opinion), I sought out a prominent child psychiatrist. I received an Asperger's diagnosis.

I have doubts about that diagnosis. I wonder if it's because I selectively shared things that sounded like Asperger's traits during the session. All the doctors I've seen since have said they don't think it's Asperger's. That said, the doctor who gave the diagnosis is a well-known specialist in child psychiatry who did additional study on autism, so I can't dismiss it entirely.

I don't have the typical features of Asperger's. I don't have rigid routines, I'm not fixated on specific topics, I'm not inflexible. I'm adaptable, I enjoy new environments, I have empathy, I love fiction and music, and I love having friends. As a young child, I had trouble eating many foods and often vomited, I walked on tiptoes, bounced around, spun in circles, and shook my hands side to side — people would ask why I was dancing. But that was when I was little. Now, I have a very strong desire for closeness with others.

And yet, for nearly ten years, I haven't been able to make a single new friend. I've had almost no real conversations with people. I've been more alone than most people could imagine. I've never really had a proper conversation with someone of the opposite sex, and I've had little interest in pursuing one.

At various part-time jobs, I was either let go quickly or got in trouble when working in groups, so I'd quit. The only kind of work I could manage was something solitary, like scanning barcodes. I've always lacked social skills. Since my teens, I've felt I could only handle repetitive, simple, unchanging kinds of work.

I want to connect with people but can't quite manage it. Even when someone likes me and approaches me, I lose interest quickly. I can like them and still feel bored when we're together. It makes life feel bleak. I wonder if I lack something fundamental in my humanity. I think of myself as a warm, caring person — but the act of socializing itself is simply overwhelming.

Honestly, I've suspected schizoid personality disorder before. Schizotypal — never. I've never felt like I was particularly odd or strange.

If I had to point to things: until I was twenty, I genuinely believed in psychic powers and practiced trying to develop them. I once thought a fake documentary about werewolves was real news. It's true I had a weaker grip on reality than my peers. I was also shocked to learn much later that most people worry about studies, careers, and romance — those had always felt like empty conversational topics to me, nothing more.

When I asked an AI, it said my biggest issue was likely dissociation and depersonalization. That also felt right to me. A doctor who had seen me the longest once said it wasn't dissociation, but I thought even psychiatrists can miss dissociation.

The biggest problem, above all else, is that these thoughts surface constantly, endlessly. Like a film playing on a loop all day. I want to stop thinking about it, but I keep returning to it against my will. Even when something else briefly catches my interest, I always end up back here.

I still don't know: does the illness I spent so long searching for actually exist? Is all of this just my imagination? A distinctive way of thinking? Or a genuine symptom of something? I still don't have an answer.

Since my current doctor said he can't help me, I've concluded it's unlikely that medication can erase or correct these thoughts. It felt like he was essentially telling me to find someone else.

The nearest clinic has two psychiatrists. Since I also wanted to explore ADHD treatment, my appointment seems to have been scheduled with the child psychiatrist there. My appointment is next week. It's a general hospital, so I'm hoping for slightly more thorough care than a private clinic.

I'm also wondering whether I should book an appointment at a university hospital with psychiatrists who specialize in schizophrenia, OCD, or dissociation and trauma. But that might be excessive. My situation isn't urgent — I don't have active psychotic symptoms like delusions or hallucinations.

That's where things stand for me.

What do you think my problem is? I'm not necessarily looking for a diagnosis, but I'm curious what impressions you get, and what this sounds closest to. I'm open to any thoughts at all. I've seen many doctors and every single one has told me something different.

Hi everyone,

I recently saw my psychiatrist, who diagnosed me again with schizotypal personality disorder and borderline personality disorder. I was originally diagnosed in 2021, and then in late 2025, doctors at the hospital said I had schizophrenia instead. My psychiatrist feels it fits me better and that I experience psychosis from personality disorder related reasons and not like schizophrenia. I am currently medicated and doing really well! I have a job that i absolutely love and find extremely fulfilling, and I am doing my hobbies again after like being put on better medication.

I am having a bit of a hard time accepting my diagnosis, mostly because a lot of information on schizotypal personality disorder says that we don't really experience psychosis and I for sure do. I also feel weird about it because I am extremely extroverted! I have a job where I interact a lot with a lot of people and I love talking to people and getting to know them. I'm the type of guy who will strike up conversations with strangers easily and I don't really experience social anxiety. I used to have social anxiety when I was younger but as I have gotten older it's been a lot better. I am extremely comfortable interacting with all sorts of people and I really like being around people. For a while I was severely isolated because I live out in the middle of nowhere and didn't see my friends regularly because I moved to a different town with my dad, and my dad often worked long hours and so I spent a lot of time alone and it made me really unwell. I also make friends extremely easily and get along with people really well. I like genuinely like people.

Is anyone else like this where they don't have the social difficulties but the other aspects of this disorder like being eccentric and odd? I often talk to myself and I dress very colourful and out of the norm for guys my age, and I have a lot of like the unusual experiences and thoughts and there are times when I am genuinely in psychosis. I also struggled with paranoia before I was put on my current medication and I have a lot of unusual fears such as an evil parallel dimension from a comic book is merging with our dimension and I am very afraid of creatures such as a the rake off and on like when I'm unwell I can't even leave my house because I am so afraid of the rake but now that I'm medicated I'm not afraid of the rake. The psychiatrist who originally diagnosed me told me that i am "an exceptionally different young man" and that being different isn't always a bad thing but there are times when I genuinely struggle with this disorder.

I'm mostly making this post to see if there is anyone here who has similar experiences to me because often time I feel like I don't have this disorder due to my extroverted nature and like actual psychosis and it makes me feel really scared and bad about myself because I don't know why I am the way I am.

If you read this far, thanks for reading! I am curious to know other's experiences!

The geese are angry

I met a sociable cat

It allowed me to pet it

Its fur was soft and orange

I'm sitting in the rain

Watching the raindrops as they land on the screen of my phone where they look like tiny rainbows

I am afraid the water will ruin my phone

The water makes writing bothersome

I'm profoundly anxious, nothing new there

My thoughts are very loud, they bounce off the walls

When I'm alone in my apartment the silence is maddening

Writing is a difficult process

But it helps me stay somewhat sane

The thoughts are loud and paranoid

I cringe at things I never did in the past

I fear I am not in control

I am tied to a horrific rollercoaster that loops endlessly

I feel the vertigo

My hands shake and my head spins

My butt is wet

My coat is heavy from the water

Will my phone survive?

I cannot afford a new one

The stakes are very high, as you can probably tell

The children are out for a walk

They are being yelled at by pedagogues

They seem indifferent, the children

They are living inside their vivid imaginations

Everything is in perfect order

Except my nerves, they constantly vibrate at an unpleasant frequency

I wish I could feel the peace

The universe is quietly humming

As I move through time and space anxiously

I never went to war

I have never broken a bone

I have never been beaten

I feel like I'm exhausting my surroundings

They are profoundly beautiful, my surroundings

I think there is endless compassion

That is an absurd idea, but it feels true

I have not been lobotomized

That would be the simple solution

I'm getting visions of despair

But they have no relation to my peaceful surroundings

I am stuck inside my head

I am tied to an evil rollercoaster

But I still manage to catch a glimpse of the beauty that my surroundings contain

A frisky goose hisses at my presence

I am indifferent to its hostility and wrath

Its long neck makes it snakelike

The closest thing to a reptile I have seen in the wild

They're so weird that they're making me cringe. The worst part is that they're extremely complex and when I dream I must literally fly around with a camera continuously just to take it all in.

Hey! I’ve been on aripiprazole (currently 10mg) for a while now, and just around six months ago started an education, that i now have to drop out of. I think it’s due to my meds… so I wanted to hear if anyone else had this experience on this specific drug. I just cant be motivated about anything, i cant find interest in anything and cant give a f*** about anything no matter how much i want to or try. This has been an issue before but not like this, i always got back on track and could always find something to be passionate about. I cant laugh, i cant be happy, but i’m not getting depressed either.. i’m just in a meh feeling all the time and i’m scared i’ll never get an education.. my doctor isnt much help and isn’t looking for alternatives..

Edit: my diagnosis is around a year old so pretty new and i havent tried any other medications except for before my diagnosis i was on adhd meds which went well. But now with schizotypal they dont want me using that at all

Just thought I'd share this since it's kind of funny and I think a lot of people are misguided nowadays, especially with the current looksmaxx thing . Obsession with appearance, presentation, status etc. All a red herring for the most part. Those things only matter insofar as they reflect your personality and overall way of being.

So I'm 6'2 and was always considered conventionally attractive. I really don't mean to be obnoxious, in fact I barely pay any attention to my appearance at all, this is just what I've been told many times by people who recently met me. Have very, very oddly prominent eyebrows and blue eyes, thin, broad shoulders. A lot of people used to tell me I should model and things like that. Got a couple girlfriends when I was a teenager and those relationships went fine and ran their course. Truly. I never was broken up with and have been very fortunate in regards to these, they all ended for reasons to do with things outside the relationship.

At brief points in time throughout college I'd have a fling or two but not that much.

The problem is that I have always been socially awkward. Extremely, cripplingly socially awkward. Once people get to know me they tend to think I'm alright, but this always makes the most wildly varying impressions on people the first few times they meet me, and almost no one gets past that. I have no idea how I could dislodge this inherent strangeness. Sometimes they think I'm super cool and don't care about anything and are a bit intimidated by me, other times they think I'm all shy and flustered due to nervousness (which can be true but is not often the case), or that I don't like them, or am bored. None of this is true. My mind just wanders all the time, feel extremely detached although I care deeply about the few people I'm close to.

I think the single worst possible combination for interacting with people you don't know, *especially* women, is autism/social ineptitude and depression. And I probably have some degree of both, but horrendously high levels of depression. So there's the combination of poor understanding, interpretation of how people feel, tendency to drift into subjects no one cares about or drop the subject of a conversation. With the sluggish pace and over-cynical mood of depression. My looks and my personality are extremely incongruent. I look kind of like some 90's musician but have the personality of a 70 year old alcoholic. (no issues with substances by the way)

Was raised almost entirely isolated, no siblings, father was an erratic military vet whom I sometimes got along with, but usually avoided due to how jarring his behavior was. Shrieking in the middle of the night, publicly berating me at random etc. Parents mostly hated each other. No hobbies, friends, anything. Best friend spiraled away due to heroin addiction, first girlfriend went insane during college (a while after we had split, but I still considered her a friend) and was in and out of mental hospitals. During covid two people in my family offed themselves. And most of this time I just read books. Day in day out.

I think the isolation at a young age is the thing that's most unusual for people to experience, and this sense of strangeness is impossible to shake. Anyways, back to the main topic. Women: their number one strength, I think, is being so good at living in the present. And I've always been bad at that, totally scatterbrained/dreamer type.

Almost every interaction with them goes so hilariously badly it's hard not to laugh after a while. Especially now that I'm recovering from a 1.5 year long illness and what few social skills I had have atrophied. They always seem a bit nervous to speak to me, or excited, at the start. And then there are waves of surprise, worry, and disgust or fear that inevitably light across their faces the instant I try to talk to them for more than 20 seconds at a time. I think being aloof freaks people out more than being openly hostile. It gets to the point where I'll generally avoid talking to them if I can help it, since it takes immense effort to mask and never gets very far anyways, or I'll intentionally be poorly dressed/groomed to avoid getting noticed. If I'm dressed up, and get noticeably more attention because of it, it just leads to more people getting let down. Which I try to avoid doing just because it seems easier going unnoticed.

Part of it might be some kind of "uncanny valley" thing, where the fact they previously considered some level of attraction to me makes them especially repulsed. The odd thing is a very small minority find me really funny but generally I get treated like a leper. And I guess this should bother me but I'm in my mid 20s now and rarely knew anything else. The best relationship I had the girl essentially chased me down, like "you're my boyfriend now, what are we doing today?" and I just kind of went along with it until we caught feelings for each other. Only time I really felt happy btw. But even then her friends had similar, wildly varying reactions. A couple of them kind of made moves on me (I declined) but it was still more common to see this sense of confusion and alarm.

Schizotypal? Maybe?

Ok now who actually does go for me, the 1% of women are usually:

-Late 30's/early 40's single women, sometimes divorced housewives and the like, who don't care about personality so much, they just want someone they can be physical with and not have to worry about anything else.

-Artsy, bisexual girls who are attracted to androgyny. I notice this type, when they date men, go for tall, thin guys with expressive looking eyes. And since I fall into this uncommon niche for them, they seem somewhat forgiving of my strangeness. Sometimes. Often they react the same way as most. A lot of them are emotionally unstable also; it's a little hard to help them, but sometimes it feels like you did alright, and that they're better off for you having known them.

I wouldn't even call it eccentricity either, as a person I'm as boring as they come. Although I can riff about some interesting topics depending on the person and I go to a lot of concerts. If I actually get into a relationship with someone it tends to go quite well, but the initial impression is so wildly off-color that 99% want nothing to do with me. After a while I've just accepted it.

450mg Wellbutrin has helped a lot with getting through daily life, depression symptoms wiped me out for a couple years and I thought it could be permanent, and I'm relieved to see this is not the case anymore. But for everyone on the outside looking in, I don't think they can tell, which seems a bit of a waste. I can never, ever get through to them.

I'm 21 and i've never had a long term relationship. Weirdly enough, I'm not super keen on them. I've had maybe.... 3 boyfriends. They've all been either strangely distant/unstable or extremely extreme and intense. but all short lived. I don't want to get married i dont' really want to date even. I like being single. But sometimes i wish i could experience dating someone for a few years. just living and growing with someone and seeing how that goes, idk. imagine that. I've never even had a close friend for that long. idk man... idk.

so I've been on my mental health journey for a long time. I've always sort of suspected I may have schizoypal personality disorder. I'm seeing a psychiatrist and therapist currently to talk about things, I really don't want to say I have this without professional advice.

anyways I was talking about my suspicion with my friend, and they said if I really had it, I wouldn't know. I think they meant I wouldn't be aware of it until a professional told me. maybe akin to someone who doesn't know they're hallucinating until someone else tells them something isn't really there?

did anyone suspect they may have spd and ended up being right about it? it feels silly to assume someone (everyone?) with spd doesn't have the ability to be aware of it until a professional brings it up

if you suspected you had it and were right, what made you suspect it?

oh im so sowwy for leaving a comment while dissociating 🥺 yes you caught me im just a widdle bot 🥺 im just a widdle bot look at my botty bot bot post and comment history 🥺 I look like such an inhuman widdle bot 🥺🥺🥺 im sooooo sowey for being weird btw do u hate me. do you hate me for being a weird little inhuman freak.

god I miss being called a freak instead of being accused of being a bot.

Do you all have any experience with this drug? Open to hearing any experience negative or positive

In some way, I am entirely offputting to everyone around me. I can't understand why, I'm not ugly (I don't think), I don't smell (I don't think), and I'm not totally social inept (I don't think).

So why does it seem that everyone avoids me like the plague? It doesn't matter if I try to start conversation or not. Often times, I try, get a glance in my direction and am promptly ignored by both genders. This doesn't help my feelings of not being human whatsoever. Is it really that obvious?

If anyone else has amy insights, do tell