THE CONFESSIONS OF AN AUSTISTIC NARCISSIST HYPOCHONDRIAC
Maybe I can’t do it. Maybe I am an idiot.
I remember reading an article about people’s tendency to overinflate their ability and value. It was written in a psychology journal, but I read it so long ago I can’t remember the exact statistic I am now trying to recall. I just remember that the study was conducted by the Ivy league. It was Harvard or Cornell, or some other pompous institution. (Is Cornell an Ivy league school? Should Ivy be capitalized?)
I am not smart enough to attend an Ivy league school. I am too smart to attend an Ivy league school. I wouldn’t want the debt or the institution, the blanch conformity.
Sometimes, I wonder if I am Autistic. There wasn’t a spectrum when I was growing up. There has got to be a reason for my abnormality. I truly believe I have the ability to make ten-million dollars with a rubber chicken. I must be out of my mind. I must be a statistic of some kind. Maybe I am a narcissist?
Cornell is an Ivy League school. “Ivy” should be capitalized and so should “League.” I didn’t go to college to learn that. I Googled it. It is highly unlikely I am a narcissist. Narcissism is rare and my gender pronoun is not “he.”
I kind of want to be a narcissist now…
Being a woman narcissist would allow me the opportunity to pursue sex for physical enjoyment without needing or wanting to fall in love with the dick. My lack of empathy would allow me to pursue my life with no fucks given. I would crave attention which would be a huge win for me. It would allow me to free myself from hermit hell. I would come out of my shell and I would believe in myself despite any naysayers. Narcissism would be my super power.
I need to go to the doctor to get a diagnosis that will allow me to have a deficit advantage. Autism would be an advantage. People love autistic people. They are special. I want to be special so I can be the best narcissist ever. Autism would be my likeable super power. Narcissism would be my villainous super power.
I do not understand human behavior and I am not empathetic to assholes and fuckups. Does that make me Autistic? I struggle with weird ticks. I blurt out random things… “I don’t want to die.” “I love you.” “Help” “Stop.” “Can I ask you a question?”
The tick is a new thing for me. It began three or four years back. It happens daily now. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night to blurt these phrases out. “I don’t want to die,” is the most prevalent.
And then there is the fucking chest pain. The chest pain began almost a year ago and it is relentless. I suspect it is an asthma symptom exasperated by smoking too much marijuana. I’ve been to the doctor, or a doctor practitioner. She told me my heart is fine so it must just be acid reflux.
Today, I have given myself the diagnosis of a hypochondriac autistic narcissist with ADHD and possibly lung cancer? I’ve had asthma my entire life and chest pain has never been a symptom. There has to be something else going on with my lungs. If I were an intelligent women I would stop smoking weed to see if that fixes the problem. I read that the lungs do not have many (if any?) pain receptors so the chest pain I am experiencing isn’t likely lung pain. The pain and pressure is not imagined though. It is a real and persistent problem.
I do not have the resources (time, money) to go from doctor to doctor to try to find a diagnosis that will explain the reasons why I am the way I am. Seeking that sort of help seems counter intuitive. Life is precious. Time is precious.
I do not want to spend my time exploring mental and physical illness. I want to spend my time living a healthy lifestyle. I want to spend my time enjoying the time I have left.
If I am sick… I would rather not know. Ignorance is bliss.
