Empathy

This is the sort of thing I hope to tell my son or daughter someday, if I make it to that point. Empathy is a problem for me. I can’t predict what effect my actions will have on people. I mean… I can, and do, try. I’m not a sociopath. I try and be nice to people. But in many cases I am just operating with no clue what anyone thinks of me. Maybe I’m an asshole. What truly disturbs me is that I would never know. I can sit here in my head and think I am an ok guy, but what have I ever truly done for anyone? A few things. But by and large? I’ve spent a bunch of my parents’s money and consumed a lot of food and electricity. That remains my overall contribution. I have had friends. I have been close to people. But… who knows, what they got out of being around me. Who knows what kind of judgments were going on. All I really want is not to be judged. I want to be able to talk to someone who is not thinking ‘what a stupid thought’ or who at least appreciates where I am coming from. I can try and do that, even if my empathy module is broken, and my theory of mind infantile. I am going to wake up tomorrow and build some houses for people. And you know what? I’ve been looking forward to that. It’s twice a month. That’s the only time I know I am contributing to something. It’s got to be that exaggerated. It’ll be fun.

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