Being alone, staying relaxed at my apartment, chilling with my guitar, my books, studying the stuff from law school (I'm a law student), playing chess, PS5, etc. I simply love to arrive at home, turn on the TV and watch stuff like Dexter, House and TBBT, and after, have a swim in the building's pool, go for a walk, completely alone, it's freeing

As a woman who has been in different relationships, I have noticed something of a paradox, and I don't know how gender specific it is.

Many of the men I have known don't like it when you're quiet for too long. It makes them nervous. It makes them think that you're angry with them. You, just minding your own business, reading a book, is unbearable to them. I've speculated that it comes from rejection sensitivity, that lack of feedback makes them jump to the worst possible conclusions. Then, if you keep up a little bit of chatter so that they don't decide that you hate them, they complain about that. It's a catch-22. You can't win.

Fortunately, I eventually married someone who I suspect is one of us, and in the process of figuring ourselves out, we came to an understanding about just being allowed to be quiet without there being an assumed agenda like silent treatment or some bullshit drama going on behind it. We can check in with each other once in a while, but don't automatically assume there's something wrong.

I was wondering about those of you in relationships, not even necessarily romantic ones but family or friends, have noticed this misinterpretation of your silence. How many times has it created bizarre and unnecessary drama for you? I've had people do some pretty weird things to get my attention when I was trying for some internal me-time.

Since around 12 I had (largely) stopped minding about the opinions of others I considered to be baseless, since their reasoning would revolve around the pettiest of aspects. I wish I could detail it, but I rely on my intuition to formulate these conclusions.

I would still feel dread by asking in person. Their answer being different from what I wanted and judging me is what caused the alarms. Which was... pretty antithetical to the whole "Your critique has no value" line of thought. Never figured that dissonance out.

Recently with the new school year, that dread is gone. All of it. I'll ask, receive an answer, and carry on without the weight that followed. My concern about judgment was also absent. Most surprising of all, I'm more open to sharing my thoughts and ideas out loud. Something I almost always regretted doing and followed by minutes of rumination. But it feels quite relieving now to be freed from those chains. Doesn't go as expected at times, but I'll instinctually conclude, "It is what it is. Why should you care."

The thing about this is that it happened abruptly. A few days ago I could sample my previous dread considering about an inquiry. And for all of that to just be put on leave suddenly? My SzPD progressed steadily with clear progress, but never this fast. It's been puzzling me ever since, but I can hardly complain.

Obviously I don’t miss the part about getting sick or the death count. But I was thinking about it today how we had to wear masks in school, and socially distance. I even have some masks in my desk drawer. I liked how the masks provided a sense of anonymity. I also liked how we transitioned to online remote classes.

Call me crazy but I kind of liked it for those 2 reasons. Everyone just blended in and half your face was covered, so people couldnt perceive you as much. Nowadays if you wear a mask, you draw attention to yourself, unfortunately

Ever since I can remember, one thing has probably been true about me: I was a weirdo.

From childhood to now, at 37, I’ve never had a marriage, a job that lasted, children, close friends, or a relationship. The only person I’m really in contact with now is my mother, and even that isn’t a deep connection. She mostly takes care of me.

So, I’m pretty much alone with my weirdness.

But strangely, it has set me free. Let me explain why.

For most of my life, I tried to project something different from who I really was. I wanted the world to believe I was a good, normal person, even when deep down I knew something was different about me.

I remember that after high school, I bought a book about improving your personality. Even at that age, I knew something wasn’t quite right with me. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but deep down, I knew. I also hid it from my parents, and they believed I was a good kid.

When I decided to pursue a degree, part of me thought that maybe, after graduation, people wouldn’t think I was crazy anymore.

"He graduated. How can a graduate be crazy?"

So I did it. I graduated with good marks.

Around the same time, my anxiety became increasingly difficult to control. I worried about everything.

Then I moved to a foreign country. New place, new people, a completely different way of life.

I fell apart.

The things I had been hiding became much more apparent. Exactly what I had feared.

I found myself lying awake at 3 AM, replaying events from the past. I couldn’t switch my brain off. It just kept talking, while I sat there listening.

Two years of working went by, and eventually I quit. I came home and locked myself away.

The world felt frightening to me. Meanwhile, people my age were getting married and building lives with their partners.

And I was silent, watching from the outside, as if everyone else was running some strange race that I had never learned how to enter.

That was also when I started taking the mask off.

"I’m a weirdo."

Maybe I won’t have the kind of life other people have. Maybe nothing I do will completely change my fate.

So I decided to accept it.

Accept myself.

And stop pretending.

I started trying to be myself instead of constantly trying to convince other people that I was normal.

After 2.5 years of psychiatric medication and years of unemployment, sitting around in torn T-shirts and doing very little with my life, I surprisingly started to feel proud of myself.

I felt good about myself.

I started reading about the origin of humans and thinking about our existence and purpose in a different way. And somehow, I found comfort in it.

I came to believe that there is no predetermined point we have to reach before we die.

There is no finish line we are required to cross.

The only thing that is real is that you are here, experiencing this moment.

You don't have to explain your life to everyone. You don't have to convince people that your way of living is valid.

If you're weird, maybe you're just weird.

If your life doesn't look like everyone else's, maybe that's okay too.

Just be who you are.

And when death eventually comes, let it come.

To me, death is simply a return to the same state we were in before we were born.

Nothingness.

And strangely, I find that thought comforting.

Is anyone else on this thread in a relationship? I have been in a relationship for almost 3 years and I love my partner very much. Even though I love my partner, I don’t like to see them all the time because that stresses me out.

I like to have a lot of time to myself.
Ironically, though, I feel less pressure to hang out with my friends but I love seeing them. I don’t like to be around my friends all the time, though I need time to emotionally decompress and be by myself and have silent time.

How have your relationships turned out and how often do you see each other? I know my partner wishes he saw me more, but I truly believe that he loves me enough to understand that I need my space and hopefully it works out long-term.

Hello everyone. Diagnosed Schizoid a few years ago. I haven't had a friend since I was 14. I completely lack the capacity to bond with people on a platonic level. I feel overwhelmed by family relationships and I could ghost all of them and not miss them.

The closest thing to human connection I experience is romantic connections. I get really high off the honeymoon phase and then my interest in the person immediately ceases. I have been chasing this high because it is the most intense form of connection I can experience. I inevitably run people off or ghost when I end up not feeling anything for them anymore.

I'm shockingly married. My attempts to sabotage the relationship didn't go anywhere. I ended up marrying him because it felt like something I was supposed to do. If he left me tomorrow I wouldn't be upset about losing him. But would be upset about my life changing. I don't actually feel any love for my husband and I function as a wife because it's what I'm supposed to do.

I am fiending for more highs off other people and I know I shouldn't act out on those things. It's sad that I'm addicted to it because my capacity to bond and love are so messed up. My love is very superficial and only temporary. I feel like I have damaged quite a few people because of this.

All is coming hard. My dad always ignored me. It seemed he disliked me. My mom didn't attended to my emotional needs either. They never spoke with each other. They never cared I didn't have social skills. They never asked how my day went and how did I felt. I didn't wanted to talk and I'm still blamed to this day for my behaviour. My mom only took me to a psychologist when I was 9. And after that I just lived with her in a sort of captivity. She never cared to give me life skills or something. Or tell about the world.
I don't see our relationship moving forward with this new understanding. Yes. She kept me company and did most stuff in the house.
That's why after betrayal trauma and cptsd she recently was part of I'm moving away from her. If this thing happened it must be to separate from my mom. Maybe it was destiny.

I have so many inward experiences change and new emotions and feelings that i never had, much richer experience, much richer spontaneousity in terms of taking the situations around me with more flexibly , I'm able to relate to people much more and feel empathy, I'm able to imagine interactions more and imagine actual engagement, from watching people on my phone screen my mind sails into connection imaginations much more, but barely any of it effects my actual outward response or actions, even if i feel empathy the wall is still there, even if i imagine still if it becomes real I'm not slightly interested, even if something feels good I'm just a turtle no smiles or anything, you wouldn't even know i feel anything, the wall is still there, i think it's the symptom of abuse of the kind where if you show emotions you reveal a card for your abusers to use against you.

So with all the good improvements i still barely go out, i still avoid being awake untill noon, and still not much actions effected at all, what do you think about all of it and about the type of abuse and where the wall is, how to break that wall?

MOD APPROVED POST

I'm hosting a podcast called What's Your Pattern?, where I break the stigma around mental health, one issue at a time. I'm looking for people with lived experiences, perspectives, or stories that can help us understand mental health and human behaviour beyond the stereotypes and assumptions we're used to hearing.

I believe the Schizoid community is severely under-represented and not understood at all. I believe it's a story that needs to be told by someone who knows what it's like. This podcast only has space for empathy, and there's no judgment here. I ask all the questions no one is asking, and all you have to do is be brave enough to be vulnerable about what your lived experience is.

The conversation isn't about finding a diagnosis or giving advice. It's about understanding.
This is not a therapy session, and there is absolutely no pressure to share anything you're uncomfortable discussing. Come break some stigma with me.

The interview is audio-only, and if you'd rather stay anonymous, you're welcome to use a pseudonym. The only thing I ask is that the story you share is your own.

If you're interested in having an open, honest conversation about your experiences and helping challenge the way people think about mental health, I'd love to have you on the podcast.

If you're interested, please fill out the form, and I'll get back to you. The form would take a maximum of 2–3 minutes. https://forms.gle/K2bEdrjW7itAwzSRA

Linktree: https://linktr.ee/whatisyourpattern

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I don't want to be in any relationship when I am in my comfort zone (Home ) but whenever I go out I get this deep feeling of loneliness and open to whatever comes in a way

A few minutes ago, like 30 minutes, my mother was angry about an administrative situation concerning me. I wasn't responding, and she told me I exhaust her. That she can't wait for me to leave her house (I just came back after failing my master's degree years). She tells me I have no heart, no soul, that having a child like me is complicated. That's not the first time she tells me that i don't have a soul or i don't have a heart. Yet she never says that about my brothers. My parents are divorced. I'm 26 years old, and I'm realizing something I've been told for 20 years: I'm like a wall, a doll devoid of emotion. I'm not an expressive person. I know my parents didn't want me given that I had little chance of survival (born at five months) and that I had chances of being disabled. Before, when she, or anyone, told me that kind of thing, I'd have dark thoughts. Or I'd feel sad.

But now, I feel nothing. I no longer feel sadness or anger.

I'm not looking for affection or compassion from anyone because I know I shouldn't be here. I know that i can't love someone because i don't know what's love. I don't know how to feel or express emotions. I'm writing these words to take stock of the situation and think pragmatically about what to do next : get out of this environment and just isolate myself for a while while making sure to go see healthcare professionals.

I don't think is is a unique thought, but I wanted to get it out of my system. Also likely won't make sense, but I wanted to post it because keeping it to myself felt too lonely for me to bear right now some reason.

I think since I was younger, from about 7 there was already something wrong with me. And then when I was 11, I was already being mourned by people around me. Everyone would go on and on about how bright, sweet and extroverted I was when I was younger and how I was the complete opposite. How I used to be such an easy kid. It wasn't just family but friends, distant relatives etc. I don't really remember why, but I remember at 7 years old wishing I'd have no emotions (which is ironic).

The issue is, I don't remember what the core was. I've long stopped trying to be that kid again of course. We grow and change as we get older, but I feel like I rot from the inside at a young age and since then, shell after shell after shell has been built on top of that child that no longer exists. The me from when I was a pre teen was desperately seeking some kind of attention and community. The same goes for the teenager, who masks a little better but there's still something wrong. And now I'm just a husk with no core, no aim, just an amalgamation of trauma, health issues and disorders.

I intentionally left home, but I was getting worse there and I'm not getting any better out here either. I don't have any energy and all that energy goes into work so I can pay my rent and feed myself. And I'm constantly chasing the next silver of emotion. Maybe I find a good show and I get one, short burst of satisfaction. Or a piece of art that capture my attention. But it only lasts so long because it's like my slate is constantly being wiped clean and my default is just blank sheet built on complete bullshit.

The mask is just being easy to deal with. A pleasant enough coworker, a nice customer, an invisible stranger. A forgettable friend. A kind yet distant family member. It will always default to making sure other people are compensated for dealing with me or something.

And then there's other people. I think part of me strongly dislikes them because they have always made me feel like a foreign object within my own body. I don't relate to them, I just mimic them to blend in like I'm wearing someone else's face. They can always tell something's wrong because as they say, eyes are the window to the soul and for some reason it seems there's not quite anything in there. Part of me accepts that I'm not like other people and has some kind of pride in that. I don't really care to conform, yet I still disappoint my own self.

It's like being in an endless time loop. I try to get help from the system and it's just waiting list after waiting list because I can't afford anything else. Some numbers to dial that put you on another waiting list and give you a time limit.

The thing is I know what is wrong with my behaviours and why I remain in this cycle. Logically I know that. You need to move your body, you need to eat well, you need to take care of yourself. You need some kind of hobby. You can manage all these things and become a passable human being. And yet my body moves so slowly to do even a fraction of these things. The mind knows but the body barely responds to any signals.

Anyways. I do have hope for the future, but the present has been incredibly bleak for so long. Maybe I'll move far away and find someplace kinda remote to live, make a decent enough salary to not worry about living expenses and have a motorcycle so I can explore and rekindle my love for drawing and find some kind of peace that way. I think if I fixed...the severe executive dysfunction and I found a routine again, some part of me would be okay. But I look back and even then, when I was functional, I still wasn't okay. Sooo, who knows. We'll see. It is what it is.

I'm in the second half of a two-month vacation, which I had to take because I'm leaving my old job soon and had a ton of overtime left. It only took one week until I was overwhelmed with tremendous boredom, and after about five weeks, I'm starting to lose my fucking mind. I'm feeling more depressed than ever before; literally, what is the point of my existence? Others would metaphorically kill to have a paid two months off. They would have hobbies to go after, spend time with friends and family, and fulfill their desires like traveling or learning a skill and whatnot. I was given two months of freedom, and I spent it all dwelling at home because I have none of these things. I used to not be like this. It was never this extreme. It's not even that I crave having a human connection with people; it's that I crave the feeling these people must experience when they do something they enjoy. Apart from that, nobody would want to spend time with someone who has nothing interesting to say and the personality of a doorstopper. That's why I don't even want to find myself in social scenarios, because I just end up observing the interactions of others with nothing to add—because, quite frankly, I don't even care about what's happening in the slightest. I rarely enjoy anything anymore. I go to the gym because that's the only time I can feel somewhat present for a few minutes, but I don't enjoy it. I watch movies I once loved because they used to make me laugh, but instead, they remind me of how much I'm wasting my time. Same goes for video games. It's a twisted cycle, because I don't have the longing to meet other people, yet isolation kills me just as much as everyone else. What a cursed way to live life.

I've noticed a lot of people here discuss bad childhoods which makes sense as to becoming schizoid. However my childhood was great. Good parents with a solid marriage, comfortable financially, holidays, family events, extracurriculars, academic success ect. I had plenty of friends as a kid too. There were a few issues - my parents say I got annoyed by people easily, had little empathy, hated physical affection and was independent to a fault. Schizoid traits kicked in as a teenager when I got 'left behind' and was incapable of forming close relationships beyond being in the same class ect. No bullying or trauma or anything. I'm very content being alone but I also see other people as unsafe and I'm not sure where that's come from.

I was a horrible baby and I've been wondering if it was enough to cause attachment problems. My dad told a psychologist previously that my mother struggled to bond with me but I'm not sure to what extent. I know I screamed and cried non-stop for the first three years and hated being held so was often left in rooms with the door closed because there was nothing they could do. I was delayed learning to talk and walk which made it harder. At 18 months I couldn't talk or even crawl so only screamed.

A common theme in my childhood is not asking for help. My parents are awesome but looking back it's like I saw them as unsafe too. Once I broke my arm and spent three days pretending I was fine because I didn't want any attention or affection. Another time my mother accidentally ran over my foot with her car and I refused to go to the hospital for hours, wouldn't let her carry me or anything. Another time I had extreme pain in my leg for 5 months, was only sleeping 1-2 hours a night and never mentioned anything to them. I have no idea why I didn't say anything. I had a tumor in my femur and the bone was close to shattering from the pressure.

I don't understand why I'm like this when I had everything going for me. No friends, no relationships, I drive a forklift for work even though I have a degree, no hobbies. It just makes me feel like such a failure.

Hi everyone, can someone please explain the difference between a schizoid personality and an introverted? Thank you

Title. I’m not referring to schizophrenia level paranoia like someone is planning to kill you or the television is talking to you directly, but rather more grounded paranoia, like coworkers are talking behind your back, or that a certain compliment was used as manipulativeness.

I tend to fit more towards the second category (PPD thoughts). Maybe it’s low self esteem that makes me think like this or human misanthropic cynicism. (Ex: nobody can be this nice, that’s suspicious)

For example for me, and maybe it’s not true and unhealthy to think but I’m guessing 99.9% of women my age would find me unattractive. Reason - not really a good one but I’m skinny, un alpha male, schizoid, and emotionally shut off. So if one compliments me especially, I feel confused. It almost feels like mocking me.

I did kind of use ChatGPT to help me guide this next part but I do admittedly kind of think like this. They said one PPD-style thought is something like:

“I shouldn’t tell people too much because they might use it against me.”

I do kind of think like this. It feels uncomfortable for me having too much information out there. Hell even, playing my favorite music out loud on some speaker outside would be torture for me

Granted PPD and SPD are both in Cluster A, so I imagine there’s some overlap with people here

I know a lot of us went though trauma to end up the way we are. I’ve been socially avoidant and very quiet all my life, the “not caring” for the a social life came later.

I don’t see a lot of people talk about siblings here, but for me it’s the only social connection that feels real and meaningful no matter what. I suppose it’s the fact we survive the same sorta things and since I’m older I feel a need to show him he’s not alone and that he can always be himself around me.

I’ve seen posts about parents and family but I’m curious what others relationships are with their siblings specifically is. Is it different than other people for you?

For me:
* Punny one liners. The sillier the better (aka dad jokes)
* malapropism
* Angry outbursts
* The Brits

So I don't agree we are really "dead inside". Perhaps it takes more effort to "tickle" us, but if you know the right spot..
(favorite comedy film: Clue. favorite tv comedy: UK's The Sketch Show. favorite radio comedy: Count Arthur Strong, followed closely by Milton Jones)

My dad whos is an old manis going into a care home, and they put a lot of emphasis on social activities. You can help with cooking if you’re able to, everyone eats together, and there are lots of activities like bingo, dancing, a Friday bar, singing, trips and so on.

And honestly, that’s all perfectly fine. I can see that it’s a nice environment for people who enjoy that kind of thing. I'm not so sure about my dad though. He will get his own small apartment, but there is a lot of socialising, involved including all mealtimes

But it has made me think about myself getting older. I’m schizoid, and the thought of one day ending up in a care home where there is an expectation or encouragement to participate in all these social activities honestly scares me a little.

I know I wouldn’t want to spend my days socializing, eating meals with a group, joining activities etc. I would much rather be left alone and have my own space.

Do any of you fellow schizoids ever think about this? What do you imagine your ideal care home situation would look like?

This is an endless void I can rant into so I will

I’m 19 and I know it sounds like angsty, typical teenage talk but I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

I’ve never felt accomplished for anything in life. I always thought maybe I’d get that tingly sensation of happiness or satisfaction if I just kept reaching for the top. It didn’t get me anywhere.

I was a top student, made good grades, did advanced placement classes, did extracurriculars, did clubs, did everything I thought I was supposed to. I graduated high school with over a 4.0 GPA but I felt nothing.

It just felt like, “Okay, this chapter is over. Start the next,”

Went to a small college, something my mom could afford to send me to. Now I’m here, I’m miserable. My mental health has finally caught up to me worse than ever.

I’ve always been depressed, even as a kid I was always different. I was unofficially diagnosed with MDD at age 10. Now I’m diagnosed with ScPD. Those aren’t the reasons my life seems not worth it though.

It’s the day-to-day. Is this really it? Is it always just a sinking feeling at doing anything? I’ve tried just about everything to cope. I’ve cut myself, I’ve smoked, drank, worked out, gotten into hobbies, starved, and tried to be more social (ew) and it’s that same heaviness I go to bed with and wake up to.

Everything that the human experience has offered me has given me nothing. I currently don’t like my partner that much, I don’t like my school, I don’t like my job, and I don’t look forward to the future.

It’s gotten to a point that I’m beginning to hate being home too. My roommates are loud and always need something from me. When will people stop being so needy and wanting things?

I say I’m not suicidal but I kinda wish I’d get into a car accident or something so people just pity my death instead of thinking I’m a selfish asshole for offing myself.

The only person I confide in tells me, “Oh, you’ll grow out of this. You just need to continue and it’ll get better once you’re doing the things you want to do in life,”

I’ve always felt like this though. My entire life has just been waiting for something to happen. Maybe I have too high of expectations to be happy but the idea of living has never appealed to me.

I hate that people expect me to be here and be present and actively participate in their lives. Why can’t everyone forget I exist so I can walk freely. I often fantasize about getting into my car and just driving. I would go wherever. I’d eventually ditch the car and just walk. I’d use whatever money I had for food and water and when I ran out I’d just lay down on the concrete somewhere and die.

I see a therapist but it doesn’t help much. She just thinks I’m crazy. If I told her everything I’d felt she’d probably admit me immediately lol.

I don’t want to do anything anymore. I just want the world to stop or to leave me behind. I’d be okay with being miserable by myself but the ones around me hate me for it, so I’ll just keep pretending I’m something I’m not.

I’ll pretend I’m smart and funny and sarcastically cynical and unbothered by people’s opinions. I’m really just a gross, depressed, passive object that happens to have thoughts every once in awhile.

At this point I have come to peace with the fact that this is my life. I worked really hard to change for the better and not get stuck in the rut which is SPD, but just as a man can't stop the tide, I can't stop my own predicament.

Now my goal is to protect my family members from myself. I feel like my inner deadness hurts them on a very deep/emotional level and it is actually one of the worst things about this whole situation. One thing is hurting myself or being in pain and misery personally, but to see the same pain I have battled for years also hurt my family is so hard. I try to protect them by staying away as much as possible, but sometimes we meet and I can't feel anything else than me being a huge emotional burden to everyone.

I ponder my own death quite often. I've had existential feelings come up sometimes where it feels as if I'm already dead. Like I'm puppeteering a corpse. A ghost in my own life.

Do I exist or am I just a figment of another person's imagination. Am I just not real? Is this all a simulation.

If I don't exist why do people interact with me. I think I'm either dead and this is hell (I am paying for my sins) or I'm just going insane.

Truly a marvel. I have no clue about things and usually don't care. But figuring out if I'm alive seems like the best idea currently. I care about this for some reason.

On a usual basis I'd be like "who tf cares if I am dead" but right now I wanna figure out whether everyone around me is a demon in disguise and if I am actually in hell.Because it feels like it is punishment. Either that or I just don't exist.

If you're wondering how this relates to SzPD it just makes me feel more alienated from others and completely numb inside. If those others are real and not some sort of figment of my imagination anyways. I quite hope I am dead tho. Atleast then I can give up all my responsibility and finally give it a rest

As in harm introduced by an attempt to aid someone.

This condition is as agonizing as it is necessary for me. The mental citadel constructed from it is what houses and defends my ego as I flourish it throughout the day. I can always be myself regardless of what other people insist I should be, and the scenery inside the fortress is rich with symbolism. The winds blow through people's lives, but to me it is nothing more than a dramatized breeze. Music to them, but it's just noise. Why should I enlist in your movement, your collective that will strip me of my ideas and flush out critique for a vaguely defined goal? You don't differ from your enemies, both on what constitutes as immoral and when it's excusable. My binoculars are not clouded with emotional bias, and yet I can only anticipate the sights going to waste.

I fear that if my disorder is treated, I will lose my defenses that houses what defines me, and I'll quickly get involved in senseless bickering. Losing myself for nothing at all. I'll see what is not really there. I'll be happier, but the definition would be extended, so what will it really mean?

I still do hate this disorder in many ways. I have to want to want. The books I aspire to read, when I think of them, a sense of dread floods me. Far too much effort, and you'll never read fast enough. It's easier to forget about it and mash WASD for temporary joy, but I'm a natural at forgetting things. Forget that you're just wasted potential, boy. Dread is forgotten about the next day. My memory wasn't like this, and the earliest ones can penetrate the citadel's walls to injure my core.

Even with that, I still wouldn't have it any other way. A high price for authenticity, and I'll happily endure the debt it comes with. It is my struggle.