I can't maintain eye contact with others, either - not even friends and family. It unnerves me and makes me feel highly uncomfortable. When speaking with others, I'll make passing glances at them before looking away. After a while, I'll stop looking at them entirely, but continue speaking with them. I can't communicate with those who lock eyes on me the entire conversation. I can feel their eyes upon me and it drives me insane. It triggers my own mental health problems. Then again, I am very uncomfortable in any social situation. I have massive trust issues and will always be doubting the intentions of others unless they prove to me they are genuine. I also suffer from quite bad paranoia and struggle when in crowds - every passing glance my way, every laugh, every muffled chatter is a threat in my mind. Logically, I know this is nonsense, but logic can't convince me that it isn't real.
- People who assume I'm unscrupulous because I can't keep my eyes locked with theirs for the entirety of our conversation. I get that proper eye contact is natural to "normal" people when conversing, but in my experiences some of the most dishonest people around don't have that tell, and more often than not the people that do aren't. But perception is a hard thing to change, and that can really make life hell for a young man trying to find his way in a world that writes him off as a miscreant fool no matter how hard he tries to prove himself as anything but.
Wow! They really question your manhood because you don't like needles? Seems a bit harsh. I've had charity workers call my morality and ethics into question when I refuse to hand over money or bank details. It's only happened once or twice, though.
- When bloodmobile workers call my manhood into question when I tell them I can't stand being stuck with a needle and having the blood drained out. I've been beaten up, impaled myself on a rusty augur after a bad fall, and even got shot once and I'd take any of those again (well, beaten up I guess. The other two lead to hospitilization and thus more little needles, but barring that I'd still prefer them) over that tiny little lancet any day. Don't know why, but I just can't take the needle, I'm to aware of it in me, and then I pass out.
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