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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
Hello! I'm a self-diagnosed social phobic. This condition is new to me, though I've always been "shy" in certain situations. I'm a freshman at a competitive, discussion-oriented liberal arts college, and the particular character of this school, although extremely beneficial to me in some respects, seems to have come together with certain aspects of my personality, brain chemistry, and behavior routine (undiagnosed ADHD & OCD, perfectionism, inferiority complex) in such a way as to just totally **** me up. I'm to the point where I can't even communicate normally with my roommate, who I generally like and respect. I'm only able/motivated to post here because I've had about eight cups of tea. So that's my introduction.

Anyway, if I don't kill myself, fail out of school, or die of starvation in the meantime, I plan to transfer to a ****ty state school so I can major in math and hopefully find an interesting career in some kind of science. Despite these plans, though, I guess I still have ambitions to become a fiction writer. When I was young, I would read constantly, though it was essentially a form of escape, and the books that I tended to read were accordingly escapist in nature. So, naturally, when I discovered video games and then the internet later, I transferred all of my attention to these, because of the easier gratification, and stopped reading books entirely (some depression may have played a part, I don't know, thought that seems like a poor excuse).

My ability to concentrate is starting to ebb, and this is turning into a tldr rant, so I'll get to the point. Because of this history, and how different it seems to me to be from that of the successful and popular figures I admire, I suppose I've felt unworthy of having intellectual ambitions. (But clearly I do have them.) I feel ignorant and culturally illiterate, though I'm trying to rectify that, and I tend to rationalize these ambitions in terms of practical aspirations (don't worry if this seems incoherent to you). I feel like even having these insecurities disqualifies me in some way. Whenever I read books anymore, I tend to zone in on little details like word choice and idiom, often to the detriment of my general comprehension. When I was first trying to get myself back into the habit of reading books, I underlined and looked up about two pages of words (though I understood the meanings in the context just fine) from a translation of Sophocles' Ajax. Now I know better not to do this too much...and writing this out has actually helped to purge myself of a lot of these anxieties, which now seem silly (it's probably just the caffeine). I was planning to say something totally different from this, but my brain's fried, so I'll just ask: can anyone relate to this?

P.S. I used "who" instead of "whom" in the first paragraph on purpose, in case anyone was thinking to correct me.
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