So then there's me...

OK, so, I don't quite get being human. It's not a matter of spirituality/beliefs (I don't have faith in anything other than, say, luck), nor extraterrestrials (though I'll use the term alien to describe myself in comparison to others. N yes, I can grasp that it's unhealthy to do so). Some backstory, for clarity: I'm 24; come from a toxic bloodline (I refuse to use the term family) of an alcoholic father(of which wanted nothing to do with me due to my lack of testosterone driven interests WHEN I WAS A TODDLER); a self centered mother who prostituted herself during said marriage, who physically struck me when I approached her near immigrant boyfriend n asked him to leave because it wasn't his home when I was about 5/6 years old (dude can't read English n barely speaks it TO THIS DAY, AND is roughly 30 years her senior, AND harasses, stalks, n verbally abuses her on a daily basis); a religious narcissistic grandmother who had legal guardianship until I was 18; 4 half siblings (older brother was in n out of prison throughout his existence; older sister takes after gma; younger brother that has stolen from me multiple times, even after building a considerable bond with him; younger sister who lives with father n his wife). I'm introverted but not bashful;i have no friends (I burn bridges due to being taken advantage of n used as a personal clown n therapist, with no reciprocation. Also, I just dropped the 1st friend I ever made in kindergarten last week, due to feeling disrespected by him whenever we chilled. I've explained it to him but he continued his ways. We were cool for almost 2 decades); I'm very self aware; I'm currently living, in a poverty stricken shack, with mother, grandmother, little brother, n his father (the illiterate 1). I spend my time working, playing handball, n pondering about life, n what could've been. I find movies n television dull n predictable. I prefer the entertainment of a rubix cube. I genuinely find it fun. I was also criticized as a child for not finding coloring or playing with toys riveting in school (though I didn't have toys to qualitize the joy, in my defense).I can recall requesting math problems to substitute aforementioned in-class activities. Also, I don't care for books. Doesn't interest me. Never read 1, actually.i preferred the intellectualism of comedians, honestly (personal favorites r Patrice O'neal, Maria Bamford, n George Carlin, to name a few). In addition, I dropped out of high school to pursue work to support my ungrateful household.
Get the gist? Hope so. Onto my point.
I don't understand, nor agree, with social norms. I feel disgusted when I c ppl conform for the sake of wanting acceptance. Y trade the substance of a personality n individualism for the waning effects of popularity? Because it's easier? Because of fear of rejection? Y not muster the ability to find out who u r n breach the confides of social comfort? Y do ppl idolize celebrities? (Mind u,I'm familiar with alpha males being the backbone of genetic advancement, n those hearding to their accomplishments for validity of leadership. I get it. But shouldn't we learn from modern "alphas" that make a mockery of their status to become, dare I say, better?) Y flock to those who r exorbitantly overpaid for their occupation (actors, athletes) n glamorized for being professional pretenders n pseudo gladiators? Also, y b so judgmental n coarse to the unfamiliar? (Granted, media portrayal is the basis of modern information distribution, but u can't form a logic opinion of things? Or at the very least mind ur business??). I don't get living vicariously through ppl (though I dabble in videogames when I can, but that's fantasy, n I don't model my behavior after characters). I get some want a sense of belonging, but do u have to completely negate the ability to become an individual? I'm dumbfounded when I try to wrap my head around these things, but I would really like some closure on the matter. I don't want to go to a therapist to discuss these things due to having severe trust issues, stemming from my father reluctantly agreeing to c me roughly once a month (the vivid image of me waiting by the window of a McDonald's for him to potentially cancel last minute haunts me). Idk, maybe I'm too wrapped up in finding an answer to an unsolvable riddle (aye, cliche!). Any help?