You know that feeling of when you are in a group of people and someone is telling a story. You drift away from the conversation, and they must tell a joke because everyone is laughing but you. That feeling? I feel like that all the time. My name is Kathy, and my situation feels like one of the most unusual ones ever. I certainly haven’t heard of anyone else having it. So, here’s the situation, I don’t feel.
I’m not talking about I’m so confident in myself that no one can say anything to hurt me. I’m saying that there’s nothing to hurt. I’m just blunted emotionally. I’ve never known how to be anything else. My mother loves to brag about how I was such a good baby; I didn’t fuss, I didn’t cry, I wasn’t a fussy eater, nothing. I only realise now that it was because even as a baby, I didn’t feel. I didn’t have a favourite toy, I didn’t have an imaginary friend, you might think that is sad, but I don’t feel sad.
It’s not like I’m a robot or something, I do enjoy certain things. I guess you would say I enjoy them; I don’t know what joy really is. I know, this sounds like something a stoner might say sitting around a campfire, but I’m just as confused about it as you are.
I remember when I was a kid that all the other kids would get so excited for their birthdays or Christmas. I understood why they were excited, but I didn’t feel like that. This is where I learned how to pretend. I have watched enough TV to realise how my parents wanted me to act when they gave me a present. I knew I was supposed to want all my school friends over for a sleepover. I never enjoyed it. It was a lot of work to pretend to have crushes on boys or to “can’t even” over something or the other.
The only real bonus to be this way is that I’m really good at school. Studying and schoolwork makes sense to me. It is the stuff that needs to be done. It’s another reason my parents overlook me being a little different because I do well in school, and I always have all my chores done. Another thing that needs to be done. I never even have to be asked.
Now comes the real test. I have a boyfriend now. Not that I really like this guy or anything, he’s nice enough, but I don’t know what love is. They are just words. He says them to me all the time like it’s going to make me melt into a sappy puddle, but he could be saying something about hairy feet, and it would mean the same to me.
I don’t really know what to do about it all. Everyone is always asking me to tell them “what’s wrong” because I don’t smile. It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I forget that I should every once in a while.
I’ve only shared my true self with one other person before. They got really scared because they said I sounded like a serial killer. They don’t have emotions either, or so they said, and it was that desire that made them kill. I don’t think I’m a serial killer. I’m not driven to murder; I’m not driven to anything, and that’s the problem. Plus, they were the ones that knew everything about serial killers…so who’s really the weird one?
The closest thing to happiness I feel is content. I’m content in my life, the way I am and the way I feel, or don’t feel. I eat when I’m hungry; I sleep when I’m tired, I get my schoolwork and housework done. I’m polite and never talk too much. I’m content. So why do other people treat me like I’m a science experiment that’s broken free?
Do you think there is something wrong with me? Should I talk to my parents about this or should I just keep on surviving and being content? It’s not shame or anything that’s making me share this with you all. Honestly, it’s because I saw some of these online before and it seemed like something to do.
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