my reminiscing doesn't usually go well

 I was feeling bad I'd never put more work into painting. Then remembered I really just couldn't afford supplies.  I spent so much energy just maintaining a home for myself there wasn't anything left. I never had outside supports of the sort that could actually let me invest in art.  Not till about 15 years ago, and we're still always struggling. For me, art keeps having to be a practical activity with something use worthy out of the end. But I do suffer jealousy seeing artists get offered retreats and studio space and donations of materials. I just do. I am denied the milk of human kindness because they just plain dislike me. I'm the dislikeable one. And I can't help it.  I mean, how do you explain that your disability is being an asshole? It makes no sense. but they all sense it eventually and they just think I'm not trying.  I don't even understand, at what am I trying?  To copy other people?  I can't, I don't know how. I can't remember what you just did AND run my body at the same time, forcing it to copy your behaviour instead of the thoughts going on in my head.  I'm barely able to run this body's social interface.  The language I can do, it's a science, but the body language I don't even notice, the expression I trained in myself from books.   See, I was ostracized as soon as I began to talk.  First my family started to bully me and shove me aside. That's what ostracism is.  you get near, they do mean things, you withdraw.  Got to school and the same thing happened.  Even the adults.  Every now and then a kind adult would take pity on me but other than providing someone to talk to, they would tell me they had  no idea what to do about it. 

I'm really not over it. But it really didn't end. It has continued up to the present. Over and over, I try to interact with them, they get mean and I withdraw.  I've tried not withdrawing, and being in a space where they can't get properly mean, and they make a separate group and shift away from me, or simply stop talking, or gang up as a group to tell me exactly what I'm doing wrong, and which I still don't understand when they explain it in detail. I mean, I kind of understand.  And I've seen it in others. But I don't know how to stop. No idea how to do this shit. And because of it, I also don't get the benefits of community.  And that's the cruel part. The isolation I can handle, especially with how traumatic socializing has been for me. But the deprivation? It's worse than shooting me.

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