The purgatory between SzPD, AvPD, and misanthropy

If you share all those qualities, I don’t need to tell you it’s a unique kind of hell to find yourself within (with no one convenient subreddit to post to). It’s a prison partially self-constructed and where I have been growing older within much to my frustration and confusion. The walls are fashioned by intractable introversion, a predilection to flee anything socially ambiguous while also being deeply suspicious, surly and dull.

It’s a lonely place because who would want to visit such a prisoner, nevermind move in with them in their prison when they aren’t very interesting or appealing to begin with? I’ll tell you who: no one.

I’ve gone to lengths to fortify myself in my home against the outside world and can’t find any sort of a durable will to get out and live differently. I get fleeting dreams of being someone else but it’s no form of lasting motivation. I tell myself I want to find a partner until I think of what that entails for someone like me, and then I reason the thought away again until I forget and it comes back to haunt anew when I encounter someone pretty or sexy.

I spent my twenties and thirties roaming this inner wasteland projected outward and it is not charming or attractive in the least to anyone. But I can’t escape it any more than I can escape my wretched, grotesque appearance. It feels no more possible to change than trying to push a brick wall over because I deflate instantly in the odds that are stacked against me. The only reprieve then lies in fantasy, dreaming or drinking it away in reveries that will never come true. Or writing something like this to an obscure, diffuse internet audience who similarly will effect no change.

Times like now I envy the dead because I didn’t ask for this.