I may have given everyone here the wrong idea with my posts. My OP is melodramatic, but I've always found inappropriate melodrama to be funny.
It's somewhat about a girl, but not really. It's more about how I behave and feel towards her and about myself, now that I have put value on her existence and my interactions with her.
I'm not honest with people, I don't like people in general, but I fake it. It's sourced from a difficult childhood and the self defense mechanisms put in place at the time to survive the environment. A 14 year cycle of physical abuse, a cold/distant/volatile/affection-less parent and a crippling stutter. The stuttering is gone (don't ask me how) and being beat up is not something I worry about; but the hard wiring, the foundation created from that experience is ever present. I socialize, I date, I experience, but I never relate. I've never known someone who made me say "this person gets me" or vice versa.
If you saw me walking down the street or spoke to me in a casual-social setting, you wouldn't say I'm mopey or depressed. I wouldn't project that, I don't want you to know, I don't want to lay that on you, why would I?
I've been involuntarily institutionalized twice, no epiphanies were had. I've been on SSRI's, SNRI's, antipsychotics and anticonvulsants; again no light was shone onto mine eyes. I've been involved in one-on-one therapy, group therapy, group CBT, and a social anxiety group (forgot the acronym).
When I was in my early twenties, I had a crazy fucking idea. I thought the love of a good woman would straighten me out, wrong. It works the other way around, I drag them down into my hell. The pointless fights, the weird reactions to innocuous comments and man oh man the paranoia. Two awesome woman have told me they loved me and my immediate reaction was to convince them otherwise. How they got that close to me to begin with is a fucking mystery. But I knew the truth; they were into the idea, the concept of the guy I was displaying. It wasn't their fault, how could they know; but they learned quickly enough that I am not someone to be loved.
I am disciplined, focused and effective in the areas of my life that don't require intimacy, beyond that I'm fucked.
So the question I should have asked is, if you are fucked in the head and all the treatment and "help" that is supposed to lead you to some type of normalcy fails, what next? How does it get better? What else could I possibly try.
I'm going to ask this girl out, because I want to. She might say no; I'll be dejected, but relieved. She might say yes and it will last three months and end with mutual hatred and maybe a slap across my face; and she will never have actually known me.
To the people who are being critical of those shitting on me, don't be. It has no effect, there is not a person alive who is harder on me and more hateful of me than I am.
I could write more, but I don't know man.