At roughly ~2AM CET; my father was stationed in Germany at the time, and I lived most of my life in EST, so it’s a little ambiguous. But the 23^rd is attached to every legal thing that confirms I am me, so the 23^rd it is. Those details would probably get people closer to my given name and where I live than revealing my age, or closer to family and church acquaintances finding out I am here before I am ready (if I am ever ready), but I will continue to be more paranoid about revealing my exact age. You all will know when I turn 30.

As for the embarrassing stuff I kinda promised in Feretta’s picarto chat: Was not expecting to still financially dependent upon my parents and living under their roof in my late twenties. To an extent I should be grateful. Not that I am dumb or developmentally delayed in any way, math was my strongest subject going into college (nearly a decade ago) after all, and tinkering with computers was my hobby; but my parents were told they could still be dressing me at this age. Eye contact was something I did not fully grasp until I was 12 or so, and still I was not completely ‘normal’ about it until my early twenties. I responded stiffly to hugs until my teens, not wanting to be embraced unless I felt deeply hurt. It was my sister who put it upon herself to make sure I got used to be hugged. Sadly I don’t remember this, but I was told one day I initiated a hug (with my sister) for the first time, and she ran to my parents with tears of joy. I was not speaking full sentences until I was five, and that was after speech therapy. I had great noise sensitivity as a toddler and would crawl on top of a table and cry loudly in response to vacuums and lawnmowers. Though I developed, well, odd taste in music since then that would seem to contradict that, I still have a little of that noise sensitivity to this day, as I am sure hearing screaming children and toddlers is more of an exercise of endurance for me more than most. I’ve avoided just naming what I have because it is so strongly stereotyped on teh innernets, and it covers such a wide spectrum. I don’t speak in monotone, in fact I’ve been told I have a rather pleasant affect. I am not overly socially oblivious or emotionally illiterate. I just come off as shy and sensitive to others who I have not told, which is basically what I am.

But that is not the main reason why I am still living with my parents, though it plays a big part. I could have stayed in the one college I started at. In fact that hope was why I did not move when my father was stationed in Fort Bragg again: so I could possibly finish school. By the time I decided to move back in with my parents I was probably ⅔^rds to ¾^ths done with the bachelorette in applied info-tech and my GPA was just around 3.0 despite failing a few classes over the years as of missing deliverables. In fact, had my parents not insisted the middle child among my brothers (for context: I am the eldest son among five sons and an older daughter, all born within 7 years) move back with them when dad got orders to move near DC around 2009, I would have never known I had the option.

I’ll continue some other time, but for now I’ll just say I had grown despondent and withdrawn at the time.