Brush with death. in This is my life

When I was about eight years old I had a run in with a red wasp. It stung me roughly where my neck and shoulders meet. My parents were going to take me to a hospital in another town. Luckily my grandpa stoped them so that they took me to a closer hospital. The funny thing is that my grandpa hates everything about me and always has. And that’s literally the only thing he has ever done for me. That’s when I noticed something different. I had no idea what changed or what it meant at the time. My mom noticed that I always kept to myself. I never wanted to go over to friends houses. I never wanted to attend family gatherings. I preferred to stay by myself. Now let’s fast forward to the age of ten. That’s when my parents started to realize something wasn’t right. They took me to see a therapist. It was then that I was unofficially diagnosed with Avoidant and schizoid personality disorders. Basically this boiled down to me not caring to be around other people. And Instead preferring to live a fantasy world in my head. This was sometimes problematic since it could be difficult sometimes to know this is real and that was imagined. But by the age of thirteen I learned how to hide this from the rest of the world. I seem like a very friendly guy when you first meet me. And many make the mistake of thinking we have become friends. Now don’t confuse this with psychopathic, or sociopathic tendencies. I just want to be left alone. I don’t desire to hurt anyone. I can feel empathy. I just don’t have the ability to connect with people. I always feel out of place. Like I’m not supposed to be here. Like somehow my whole existence is a mistake. I’m going to stop here for now but I’ll try to post more soon. Believe me I’m just getting started