So what if I’m an idiot?

I’m also a genius.

Been pondering the eternal question of how do I accept my own awesomeness lately.

As you patient readers know, it’s an issue that I have been struggling with my whole life.

From tge age of three I knew I was something special. Ever since the moment when I suddenly started reading the instructions for adults in Sesame Street magazine to my babysitterr Betty and it produces a really huge result.

But even back then, I didn’t really know what to do with this information.

if I has an ounce of natural ambition in my soul, it would have been obvious what to do : milk it for all it was worth,. Use it to get all the attention, affection, praise, and all other forms of ego food I could get from it. Use it to become a star,. at least locally.

Something. But I was born with a far more relaxed, easygoing, happy go lucky personality than that. So alll I did was go “This seems good. ” and that was about it.

It would never have occurred to me that this was something I was supposed to use to advance my personal station in life, or move ahead in some fashion, or use it to “get what I want” or “have things my way”.

I feel the prickly sweat oif anxiety forming on the back of my neckl just trying to imagine being that ambitious.

It seems like so much work. And so stressful!

So I just went on my merry way, not doing a thing with my gifts. Like I have said many times before. it is really hard to value something that comes very easily to you. I knew I was gifted but it didn’t really seem to mean much in concrete terms. So I didn’t think aboit it very much.

Then, when I went to school, it rapidly became the villain in my story of boredom and terror. I was bored most of the time in class because I was too smart for the work. I was terrigied out of class because my IQ made me stand out from the others and attracted their negative attention because I did not fit in.

Not even a little.

Teachers would occasionally try to get me into contests and such. But I was on another planet, as usual,  and didn’t relate to the challenge. so they could see that I was not really into it. So neither were they.

It really makes me wonder when I look back at my life and see all the times when I was in a very incoherent mental state and yet somehow made it through without anyone realizing what an outright lunatic I was.

It’s that “just keep going” thing again. Somehow, I always manage to keep going, and do just enough to show the world that I am okay (which is a lie) and that it’s okay for it to go away and leave me alone because I will be just fine (and I totally won’t).

I guess it was attention I was afraid of (and also craving). But the bad kind of attention, the kind where it feels like you are in trouble and people are panicking and you gerel exposed and out of place and want nothing more but to crawl back into your hole and hide from the world as the alkarms go off in your head.

And underneath it all is a terrible guilt at having caused such a fuss.

There is no room in this complex for me to have a legimiate problem that deserves attention. It’s possible, of course, but it’s hard to imagine anything short of the sort of thing that requires a trip to the hospital that would do it.

And this puts pressure on others because they are left to guess how you area really doing. They can’t rely on you to tell tghem when something is wrong. I would find that very stressful to deal with. Someone tyou love and care about who can’t tell you what the problem is and so you have to guess.

It’s a lot like having a pet, come to think of it.

Anyhowm my point is that I have never known what to do with my extraordinary gifts. I am not totally in the woods any more because, this late in life, I have finally developed some ambions, but they are really just dreams and dreams don’t get me anywhere.

Some say that I’m a dreamer. Well I’m not the only one. There’s lots of losers in the world. The Internet is full of us.

I’ve been trying to find and connect with my natural ambition level. Because it’s not like there’s nothing I want and I have no dreams.

And while I don’t have a lot of ambition, I do have plenty of greed. Green for all the things I have never had, like money, recognition, love, sex, and the respect of my peers. Greed that makes me want to reach out and grab the world and shake it till it tgives me everything I deserve, and whole lot more too.

But OI am scared. Scared of where that leads. It would take me pout of my comfort zone and force me to mix it up with the buig bad world and maybe even grow up.

At the very least, IU would have to finally go out and get hurt.

And worst of all… it would mean turning to face reality instead of of turning my back to it and ignoring it as much as possible.

And that scares the sheep dip out of me. I have spent so long hiding out in my bunkerf that the normalk light of day frightens me. I’m like one of those escaped POWs wgi wander out of the woods decades aftger escaping with no idea how the war turned out,

My war is on the inside, though. And it’s been raging for 40 years.

I wish someone would njust win already,

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.

 

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