I talk to myself, to the point where it annoys me. I, like, split my awareness into the likeness of multiple people, and converse with them, though it's usually one on one with the mentality of my sister. It makes me wonder if I have some undiagnosed personality disorder, because there are other things I do that point to something of the sort. Oddly enough, I don't adopt the personalities of people who don't exist for the most part. Not unless I'm telling myself stories during my moments of "meditation" and I happen to have a role in it. Or, I just monologue. That's pretty common of my, too.
I also draw certain things when I'm alone versus having people around because I don't like my dad watching me. He likes to watch me. And I hate it, and he knows it. And no, I'm not drawing anything inappropriate; I just like to keep to myself, geez.
Lastly, I play the piano when I'm home alone. I just don't play when people are around anymore, mostly because my sister will laugh at me because of whats-his-face and songs associated with him. I recently tried to play while my sister was home--just to see if I could handle it. I kept messing up because my fingers were sweaty and kept slipping off the black keys, and I knew she was judging me the entirety of the song. Near the end, I cut myself off, threw my head onto the keyboard, shaking. I could hear her creeping down the stairs quietly and then walked up behind me and I like screamed at her without turning around. I left the room and curled into a ball on the family room floor and wept quietly. Er, yeah... as you can see, whats-his-face has really messed me up. And, since that's mostly all I play on the piano lately because someone moved all the sheet music and my staff paper, and it's the only thing I know by heart at this moment... she can really throw jabs at me for it. She often feigns ignorance in order for me to humiliate myself by explaining things to her despite already knowing. I am taking a break from arranging some things, and some other sheet music got misplaced...
Not that playing the piano and drawing are weird things to do alone, but the circumstances make it weird. Because of him.