When I Could Embrace Who I Am

I have been diagnosed with clinical depression and schizoid personality disorder.  A person with schizoid personality disorder avoids social activities and has limited emotional expressions.  And yes, I generally do not like social gatherings of more than four or five people.  In small gatherings, everyone tends to stay together in one group.  I can handle that.  In large gatherings, I can handle it if everyone is involved in the same activity - story-telling or singing, for examples.  But if people are interacting in small groups, I am out of place.  Everyone else forms into a little group, and I am not in a group.  I can "hang out" with a group, eavesdropping, but I am not part of the group.  I can't really follow the conversation.  I get jokes, but other conversations I tend to take literally.  So I don't get it when someone is joking around.  And the noise - different conversations going on at once - is disturbing to me.
Recently, I've been reading about people who are on the Autism Spectrum.  And I realized that many of their comments were true for me as well, although I had never put them into words.  There are things that I find distressful:  loud noises, bright lights, crowds, ceiling fans, scratchy or ill-fitting clothing, wrinkled sheets, bad hair days.  I can't sleep if my sheets or pjs are wrinkled up underneath me.  Feeling the wind from a ceiling fan for too long will give me a headache, as will bright sunshine. I prefer clothes made from cotton.  Other fabrics, especially synthetics, are irritating to me.  By the end of the day, I can't wait to change my clothes.
I need time to decompress after stressful experiences.  Even things I enjoy can leave me craving solitude and quiet.  For example, I have never been able to come home and go straight to bed.  I have to spend time in solitude and let things wash away from me until I feel calm.  Sometimes I have to walk away in the middle of things I am enjoying because they also contain stressors for me.
No, I haven't been diagnosed; nor have I sought out a diagnosis.  It is enough for me to know that I can let go of the struggle trying to be someone I am not.  I don't need to be "fixed."  This is who I am, and I can embrace myself as I am.
So, my friends and family, know that I really do appreciate your invitations to join you, and I do want to be with you.  But also know that being with other people, especially in large groups, comes with a price for me.  Sometimes I can pay the price, but sometimes I cannot.  Imagine that I have a reservoir for interacting with my environment, which includes other people.  That reservoir can be filled up or drained down by what sensory inputs I experience each day.  If I don't show up, it's not because I don't care or don't want to see the people who are there.  It's because my reservoir has been exhausted.  Please do not take it personally.  
And large, loud, crowded events, no thank you.