Despite the pages of negativity I've just dumped on everyone who dares read this long-winded rant of mine, there is some positivity. Some hope and faith I'm managing to hold onto. 

Like I mentioned a handful of times before, I'm finding the material I'm learning in college (even in a five-credit Astronomy course), isn't actually hard for me to figure out and understand. Sure, it's quite tedious and my telescope (more specifically, the tripod my telescope came with) frustrates me to no end. But, in a surprisingly short amount of time, I am usually able to nail things down, even if my solutions, answers, questions, and thoughts baffle others (which they do often). But, that isn't a bad thing.

I've been told my ability to stump the professor with my questions, and figure out that climbing onto the roof of my truck, lying prone, and holding the telescope as I would hold a rifle to find the moon and stars easier and faster (instead of using that ridiculously finicky tripod), and think in pictures rather than words, and spend several hours of unbroken, zeroed-in study on the class's content at home, are all things professors look for in their students. Clearly, just based on my grades and the way the professors have been treating me, I am doing things very right (though, I'm not quite sure what specifically I am doing right, besides getting good grades and asking lots of tough questions my prof has to get the department chair to answer for me).

Yet, I am still suffering greatly. The people around me and the chaotic, crowded, noisy environment of college drain the literal life out of me, and I don't yet know how to cope with that or if there's a way to skirt around that. Perhaps, I'd survive college just fine if I had a real escape route I could take to get away from the world and recharge. I love my family. I feel so blessed to live where I do and how I do. But, I can't get away from people very easily, and I'm becoming exponentially more tired and more of a shell of who I was prior to college. 

When I'm down in my bedroom, there's always a chance that my mom will barge in to ask me to do something or beg me to accompany her someplace, or my brother's friends will come over and run around upstairs above me (which I can hear through my headphones in my room). When I'm upstairs raiding the fridge, feeding the dogs, or am otherwise trying to relax, I am always expected to be able to hold a conversation with everyone else no matter what. When I leave my house to go somewhere or take the dogs for a walk, there's always a talkative neighbor who is outside practically waiting to ambush me with small-talk. When I take my dogs for a walk, everyone thinks they're oh-so-adorable and must be showered with pets and cuddles. Hell, when I go for a hike alone, a ranger always materializes out of thin air when I least expect it, to ensure that I'm not trespassing on the private hiking trails (you'd think they'd recognize me by now, but there's almost always a different ranger or warden patrolling the trails). 

So, in short, I have no real place to go to truly get away from people, and I'm starting to go fucking crazy as a result!

How is this positive, you may ask? Well, worst case scenario, I burn out completely and drop out. But, my spirit won't be devastated, since I know what the problem is. The problems I'm faced with currently have absolutely nothing to do with my intelligence or ability to take care of myself. I can take care of myself perfectly fine (in fact, I flourish when left alone). Over the last several years or so, I have learned that I am not the fucking idiot I believed I was, and my performance in college further proves this. 

What I'm dealing with is much more of a neurological issue than anything else, with a hefty spoonful of anxiety to go along with it (which I also suspect is more of a neurological issue than a psychological one). Thankfully, I've read that there are ways to treat this neurological issue that don't involve forcing me to suppress my autistic traits or do anything else harmful. A large part of dealing with this problem is further learning about how my brain works, why it works that way, what specifically is going on that is making being around others (mostly strangers) so exhausting for me, and treating that specific issue. Perhaps, all I need to do is attend smaller classes, take a few courses online (that are taught by professors who know what they're doing, of course), and take my therapist's advice and meditate in secluded locations (such as on the roof of my Xterra parked on an isolated road in the valley).

Also, it might be good for me to just tune out a lot of my peers, and not force myself to coddle the students with 4.0's bitching about petty shit I couldn't care less about. Ok, people might think I'm a bit of an asshole for being the silent, scowling student in the corner, who offers no advice and is generally unapproachable. But, that's okay. I don't plan on going into a career that requires me to have perfect etiquette, or keeping lots of friends around anyway. 

A large part of that probably comes with being more assertive, and more confident. Indeed, I am definitely not a very confident person. I have a tendency to avoid conflict like covid and sacrifice my own mental and physical wellbeing for the sake of others. This isn't entirely a bad thing, but in some situations (like in a college class), it kind of is. I shouldn't be making myself sick to make other strangers more comfortable around me. Yet, right now, that's exactly what I am doing, and it's a habit I must break. I'm not yet sure how to do that, but I'm sure I'll figure that out soon enough.