🍄 ── Call us Key or Ethan. We are 19 y/o. Collectively, we are transmasc with spikes of femininity, biromantic, aroace. We use he/any/neo pronouns. Taken by @andy-in-space <3

🐾 ── Radq / Endo / Willo / Proship neutral. I have ASPD. You could not pay me enough to care. Don’t bring discourse to my blog, I don’t care and you will be blocked. No dni but I block freely.

🐛── Stop by @livee-loudly for vents, disabled talking, and much more

I saw this post earlier today and I thought I would care that I find - not just the post itself - but the comments sweet.

We - as people with aspd - don’t always benefit from getting better. To me, getting better feels more like learning how to mask. Smile when someone asks how your day is, say I’m sorry even when you’re not, don’t get angry at the little kids who keep stepping on your last nerve, things like that.

It’s learning to be polite. To tolerate things. To see emotions and feelings others have and help them cope, not just get annoyed because they’re inconvenient.

Sometimes, with aspd, I don’t feel human. I feel kind of disconnected from humanity. More like I’m some sort of creature pretending to be human than a human itself.

These people, our people we try for, are our ties to humanity. Sort of like a leash or a tether. It keeps us from feeling too separate.

They bring you back when you get too far from humanity.

For me, my girlfriend is my person. She’s my reason I try.

I think specifically, she is what keeps me human. I’m not saying I’m always the best. I’m still learning to mask. I’m still learning to care about others. Sometimes I snap and could not care less if I tried.

I think the thing about having my girlfriend is she always reminds me that I am someone. Not someone good, or someone bad, but a being. She gives me a reason to get better - and as I’ve told her many times, I don’t always want to get better - but I want to be good to her.

I don’t fully understand her emotions. I have a habit of asking her to explain them everytime she feels them. I don’t understand why she cries so much, or why some things I say hurt her.

The thing about being with her, though, is that I want to. I want to understand why she feels everything she does. I want to understand why she gets frustrated at something or why something makes her laugh.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully understand everything. I don’t think that’s possible, honestly, but I think I have a reason to try. A reason to atleast care.

So, no, I don’t fully understand your emotions. I don’t think I ever will.