Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters

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There are times in my life when I forget, even for a brief moment, what a shithead I am. Fortunately the world exists and is not shy about reminding me.

I've been taking a screenwriting class online for the last couple of months. It seemed like something that would be smart to do, so I did it. Anyway part of this class involved chatting with the instructor, and since I'm a fucking idiot (This is the theme of the day, if you haven't caught on) I did so under the impression that being honest and open was the best policy, which it totally isn't. Yesterday was the last class, and..well...the center did not hold. It all broke down into a big dramatic THING with the instructor, a fairly successful woman in her mid-30's, telling me that I'd hurt her feelings so badly she was quitting teaching (I do not know how serious this was) and running through a long depressive list of the things I'd said.

I tried my best to patch the thing up, but I failed. So in the end we just gave up, let the bitterness win, and went our separate ways. And that's too bad. But it's not unusual. Not for me.

See I have this crazy idea in my head that honesty is usually the best policy, and that open dialogue creates opportunities for mutual improvement. I know this is not true, the entire world runs on convenient lies, but I can't dislodge it. So I say my piece, and it all ends in heartache.

The thing is, I'm not very good at judging other people's sensitivity, mostly because mine is set so low. People can say all sorts of nasty things to and about me and it doesn't do much damage. This is not because I have particularly high self-esteem, but rather because whatever nasty comment someone wants to make to me, I have already made it to myself. I'm an asshole, I'm a jerk, I'm unworthy and incapable of love, I'm a failure, I will die penniless and alone, yeah yeah yeah, tell me something I don't know. I generally assume that people don't like me (a fairly accurate assumption most of the time) and I've learned to live with that. It never occurs to me that telling someone that they're being condescending, when they are, could be hurtful. Apparently it is.

I don't know what to do about these heinous tendencies of mine. I am incapable of just keeping my trap shut when I have something to say, but I also don't get off on hurting people's feelings. Maybe I should find a nice mountaintop and learn to meditate.

Le sigh.

I think I'm going to call the feeling I have right now, the feeling you get when you try to tell someone something they should know but instead of learning they get depressed and angry and make you feel like a bully, a truth hangover. It fucking sucks. The only cure is Tom Waits, time, and venting. I guess I've managed 2 of the 3 now. The waiting is the hardest part.

P.S. This is why I should never be invited anywhere, and why I can't have nice things. In part.
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