There’s an episode from the show “House” where he has to find a way to solve a sick autistic kid. The kid can’t talk and they have to rely on his parents, who have quit their careers to take care of him and have scheduled every minute of his life. They cure the kid and everything is hunky dory. The part of the episode that I like the most is where House is talking about how he doesn’t feel sorry for this kid. He envies him. The first time I saw the episode I didn’t think much of it. I just thought this is just House being introspective and playing devils advocate. He’s also used to being different so he kind of likes it. But the point that he’s trying to make isn’t the being different part. It’s how different he is from the rest of general society.

Working different forms of customer service jobs and low-level maintenance jobs I’ve come across a lot of strange people. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that my high school locker ended up being sandwiched around all the special needs kids. But looking back on what House said I really get it now. If you’re a healthy and generally normal person society expects things from you. They expect you to work and fit in with society. They expect you to behave and contribute by paying your taxes and having a stable job. You’re not allowed to act out of the ordinary. There’s a spot in society where you’re supposed to fit. If you’re any kind of special needs nobody really expects anything from you. In fact we allow those with special needs to get away with more because they are “not normal.” For example if a mentally handicapped person came into a store and started rearranging things and generally causing a mess nobody will scold them for it. They might try to guide them away from the area or get them to leave as quick as they can, but nobody will scold them for it. In fact they’re usually nicer than usual and will pick up after them.

Now selfishly who wouldn’t want to be treated that way? I would love to be able to do whatever I want and have people adapt to me. I would love to have people in my life who feel responsible to look after me and care for me. I am jealous of that as well. I understand that truly those with special needs want to be as normal as the general population. I wish if I could explain one thing to them is that they shouldn’t be. Being accepted as different is amazing.

I’m also jealous of how naive they are about things in the world. I wish I didn’t have such curiosity to solve everything. I wish I was still naive to things. I wish I could go back and still believe in mythical things. I wish Santa Claus really did watch over people and reward those who are good-natured people. That would be awesome. What an incentive to be a good person. I wish the “American Dream” of continuing to work hard and it’ll all pay off was true. I wish that love did conquer everything and that when people spoke you could take them at their words and believe it was honest and true. But we all can’t believe in everything.

I generally know my strengths and I’m aware of my weaknesses. I do my best to improve myself every day that I can. I like to surround myself by people who are good or even great at things I might know nothing about. I’m only artistic in thought and words. I can spin a clever story or tall tale, but I can’t draw or color to save my life. I enjoy being around people who can create things out of nothing. I like to be around people who are better at things than I am. I like to learn from them. I want to be a better fisherman. I want to understand cars and mechanical things. I want to improve on working with tools. I  wish someone could teach me how to play piano or the harmonica. I would like to improve on a lot of things and I always strive to learn more.

But there are times when I think the more and more I try to improve on the things I’m not great at maybe I’m losing parts of myself that make me special. I’m not always sure what that is. Maybe I’m trying to fit more into society instead of trying to stick out and be different. I like being different. I like being thought of as a myth sometimes. I like when people are not always sure if my stories or true or not. It’s a dilemma I’m always facing. To be more normal and have what everyone else has or to be different and see the things others won’t? Maybe because nobody has ever told that I’m great at anything I’m not quite sure what makes me special. Then I get jealous of other people’s special because at least they know what it is.