There was a moment in my life when I became aware that I wasn't exactly human. I work as a surgeon, performing life saving surgeries on people. Unlike what a lot of doctors will tell you when you ask why they chose that job, that usually being something along the lines of "I want to help people" , I do it for the money. It's more secure than freelance jobs and overall an okay occupation. Patients with gruesome injuries and tragic stories of how they got them would enter the hospital daily. I've had patients die when I was trying to operate on them, but not once did I feel anything besides complete neutrality. For a while I convinced myself that I had just grown numb to the job, and that seemed like a rational excuse for my lack of emotion, but my delusions were soon cracked on November 18th. I began to operate on another patient, a little girl who's skull had been smashed. She was barely alive, and her injury was horrific. Her father was abuse and would beat her, but one day he punched her head too hard. When I was operating and when I heard the story of how it happened, I felt nothing. I knew the incident was objectively terrible but there was a complete lack of emotion in me. I didn't feel angry at the dad, I didn't feel sad for the girl, I felt nothing. It was at that moment I knew I was more of a robot than human. Some may say that I'm more of an insect than a robot, as insects still fear for their own life, but I do not. Even as a child I viewed life as utterly meaningless and pointless, and didn't really care about the thought of others- and myself dying. At funerals I didn't pay much attention, even if I knew the person well. It's not like I wanted to inflict harm on others, I just didn't care about them or myself. I had looked into psychopathy, but I never viewed myself as godly.
When I came to the realisation that I was abnormal, everything began to make sense. Humans are social animals, but yet I never had any desire to interact with anyone. Even when forced into social situations I was bored. All people do is talk about: a) the lives of people they know and what's happening to them, even though I have no clue who they are or care to find out, or b) they talk about things which happened in the past. How boring.
Even though everything had begun to make sense when I realised the truth about myself , at first I couldn't help but think there was something wrong with me, but I then made another discovery: reality is an illusion. A normal reality is made up of one's feelings and very subjective things, which aren't true or false. I'm completely numb, I feel nothing so I can't let my emotions warp how I view things. I see things as they are, when you're as emotional as others you don't see the truth. I'm not stuck in the illusion.
Believing in god and other forces is how these silly humans comfort themselves into believing there's meaning in everything. They're all living in their own delusions. But I know that whilst my views were more closer to the truth than others, I was still living a lie. I had to know the truth, the objective reality.
My senses were keeping me in the illusion. Everyone hears, sees, tastes, smells and feels everything differently. If I want to break free of this illusion I must nullify my senses. I have nerve damage and can't feel things through touch, but I still have other senses. I shoved nose plugs up my nostrils and ear plugs in my ears, and then wore a blindfold. My senses were gone. I broke the illusion, and upon my time in the truth I gained all knowledge. And what is the truth? A whole lot of nothingness...