For years I have been curious about whether or not I was either Schizoid or AvPD (Avoidant Personality Disorder), and of course I haven’t been to a therapist, but … I can post more after work.
I intended to explain earlier why I think that I have an undiagnosed PD, and why I started a thread about it. I have heard terms like “schizoid” being used carelessly to describe someone who is too busy to have much of a social life or who is just more introverted than his friends might be, and I don’t want anyone to assume that this is my understanding of the word.
Shortly after I turned twelve I stopped interacting with people beyond the necessary minimum. Before that, I had been a quiet person who spent a lot of time alone but also loved having friends; I was a people-pleaser, and occasionally disobeyed parents rather than disappoint friends (one reason why I lean more toward AvPD rather than Schizoid - I’m pretty sure a Schizoid typically wouldn’t be so concerned about what peers thought of him). My family and I moved out of state when I was 11, and for a long time I was encouraged to “not get too attached” because we didn’t know when we might move again; this triggered anger and a refusal to go through the work of making friends that I’d just have to leave again.
I went through one semester of 6th grade in a public school (homeschooled otherwise). I was angry every day and often asked to go to the restroom just to get away from people. At recess I sat alone and watched other kids play. I was popular, in a wierd way, because nothing seemed to hurt me; I wasn’t afraid of bugs, I had a very high pain tolerance, and I could eat anything within reason (paper Q-tips, erasers, elmer’s glue, food that fell on the floor.) One afternoon the teacher read aloud the saddest part of a sad story, and all the girls sobbed except for me…I was laughing, because I’d never seen that much sentimentality in one place before (it was a wonderful day for me, a very happy memory; the boys cheered for me and the girls were repelled by my evil-ness.
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So much for that…I did fine with the schoolwork, but became so frustrated with all the people, all day long, and the every-dailyness of it, that I finally told my parents I was going to start picking fights (with older kids, not with my peers who tended to be littler than me) just to get expelled; that felt like the only way to deal with the problem. My parents made the decision to start homeschooling again (don’t know if that was the right choice, but they worried something worse might happen).
Any acquaintances made before I decided to stop talking, eventually gave up trying to be friends, and I made no new friends. Whenever I had to go to someone’s house, I found a corner to ocupy and said mostly nothing. Wherever we went to church, anyone who knew my family knew that I didn’t socialize, and they left me alone.
One pastor who paid a visit to our house asked my parents if I had lost my speech in an accident, or was I born that way? (I demonstrated my amazing powers of speech for him, to his astonishment, and every Sunday after that he made me have a conversation with him after the service.
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It was only in the last few years that I realized I might not be “ok” and that I should behave differently, not just for the sake of getting or keeping a job, but because I wanted to be more mature. I’ve always had difficulty feeling loved/loving, and for years I had thought it meant that I was not “really saved” (because I was told that real Christians love). No matter how I prayed or tried to love, it didn’t happen. When I tried to “behave” after I realized that being wierd was not necessarily a good thing, it seemed hopeless. I found out about PD and joined online forums, but very few of the users claimed to be Christian. Some said it was a very rare thing.
I’m just curious to see what might be “normal” spiritual expectations for other Catholics who have difficulty connecting to people and God.
). When I do fail, its getting easier to accept that its just gonna happen, so I’m better able to move on and try again. Glad that you have good goals to focus on!
After my friend’s revelation, I told my mother I wanted to see a therapist. I’ll be honest, the first few visits were excruciating. But, once I felt like my therapist was ‘safe’ things went smoothly.
