I'm A Hypocrite

When people tell me their problems - which they always do, even strangers - it's a burden. Sometimes. When they can tell me calmly and without being overly dramatic, I can take it easily.

YES:
I missed my sculpting lesson because my dad had to work and I couldn't go. What if I fall behind? What if I lose my edge and become worse and worse? What if this affects my future? I'm worried.

NO:
My dad had to work and couldn't take me to my sculpting lesson. He doesn't care about me! I hate him and I hate everyone! I'll never be good enough! No one cares what I want! I might as well kill myself!

The overly dramatic types make me sick. Not as in I'm disgusted by them, but as in physically sick. They stress me out and make me tense, and their negativity makes me feel negative. And then comes my depression. And, lately, anxiety. (I'm just a bundle of fucked up shit, aren't I? No, that was rhetorical. Stop nodding.)

In my group sessions, I was told as an empath (and INFJ), people will open up to me because I'm easy to talk to. It's just how I feel. I put people at ease and make them feel like they can tell me anything. And I actually listen. They see that. I give good advice. They feel that. So I find myself attracting all kinds of people. (Lucky me.) Substitute teachers would talk to me about their kids or divorces or what have you during lunch or recess or break. Strangers would gravitate toward me and open up about their whole lives. Even my own father once confessed to me that he was so stressed about the future that he thought about killing himself. (Great parenting, that. But I never expected much from him.) Even my own mother told me things that I really could have gone my whole life without knowing, things that were negative and have been a burden on my life ever since. Things that I carry with me to this day.

So in my group sessions, I was told to stop taking the negative as much as possible. This was triggering my stress, anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts. I was told that to minimize it, I would have to discuss with my friends and family the impact it was having on me and ask them to find other outlets for their problems and negativity. I told my friends in the kindest possible manner to fuck off with their problems and ranting, and just pair up with each other. (Because I'm sweet like that, giving them solutions.)

I tried to make them understand what I lived by my whole life:

1. You're not a special snowflake; everyone has problems.
2. Have something negative to say? Keep your mouth SHUT, even if it's about yourself. Negativity begets negativity. What you put out is what you get back.
3. If it's a burden on you, then it's a burden on others. Say nothing. Better to suffer alone than force others to suffer with you.

So now we come to the hypocrisy of it all. I had an anxiety attack this morning, which made me a bit vulnerable, so I spouted a problem that's been on my mind to a dear friend. She says it doesn't bother her and that she feels like it's her purpose in life to be there for people and help ease their burden.

I think to myself, "This girl is not an empath. She's not an INFJ. I'm really shitty at this, then, because she's better than me."

I can't even take it when people simply say "I'm having a bad day." (YOU'RE having a bad day!? So is Syria! Think about THAT!)

Once upon a time, I felt like that too. I felt my purpose was helping others and protecting them, standing up for what was right even when no one else was, listening to anyone who had something to say... But here I am, a fucked up meatbag, and this person is consoling me? On top of that, I - who's sworn never to burden others (and hasn't 98% of the time through my life), who tells others to talk to someone else - I am blathering my problems and burdening someone else!? Even if she says she doesn't mind, I'm a hypocrite for talking to her about my problems. I just turned around and threw my issues in someone else's lap. How is that right? It isn't. And even though I don't think she'd ever use it against me, I've been very wrong before. That's how I started hating people in the first place. One too many wounds. And I've put myself in the position to be stabbed again.

What is wrong with me!?

But... I'll admit, it was nice having someone to talk to for once. Even if it was wrong to burden them and put out negativity. Even if now they can take that little white flag of surrender and impale me with it.

Personal: The Friendship Myth, A Cynical Rant

No one gave me a guide on how to realize when people just weren't worth it and I needed to let them go. I was always taught to shut my mouth and suffer in silence, treat them the way I wanted to be treated even if they didn't follow that same rule. I was always taught to suck it up and deal with my problems on my own, but always listen to others and try to help. These double standards were ingrained in my brain, etched into the very core of my being.

Recently, I've been learning to undo this damage (yes, damage) and start taking care of myself, my emotional needs. Apparently, for clinically depressed suicide risks, it's bad to surround yourself with negative people. Common sense should've told me this, but part of me is still stuck on that "help people, keep to yourself, treat them how you want to be treated" stuff.

Tangent: You know, in life this isn't a practical school of thought. We're taught the golden rule when we're young and we're pretty much supposed to let it rule our life. Even several religions say to treat your enemies with kindness and not retaliate. Where's that good, Old Testament eye-for-an-eye philosophy? I'm here to tell you what I'm just now learning: YOU DON'T HAVE TO TAKE SHIT FROM ANYONE. If they're negative all the time, overly sensitive to the point where you're afraid to say anything, if they make mountains out of molehills and take things out of context, if they twist your words, are constantly passive aggressive and then deny it, are insensitive but accuse you of not caring when all you do is care, if they make your shared hobbies feel like obligations and chores, if they act spoiled and throw tantrums when they don't get their way, and/or are basically soul-sucking hypocrites... Ditch them. Did that really need to be said? When it's put like that, it's so clear to see, yet we can never see it when it's actually happening. But here it is again: YOU DESERVE A POSITIVE ENVIRONMENT. YOU DESERVE TO BE HAPPY. YOU DESERVE TO HAVE FRIENDS THAT THINK ABOUT MORE THAN JUST THEMSELVES. YOU DON'T NEED THE DRAMA. We can't pick our family, but we can sure as hell pick our friends. Why should we settle? Why should we suffer?

Back on topic... I've been at risk of suicide for a while. The last attempt was Christmas which, oddly enough, had nothing to do with the holiday. That was just how the timing worked. My friends know this. One in particular doesn't seem to give a shit about me, or anyone but herself for that matter. She makes everything about her and she always accuses others of the same things she's guilty of doing - whether or not the accusations against us are true.

Example. We share a hobby. I'm trying not to spend too much time around her because she's negative and that puts me in a bad place. I have legitimate medical instructions in writing to distance myself from negative people and situations (among other things) to help lessen my depression and lower my risk of suicide (as well as lower my stress levels because they are quite literally off the charts - seriously, there were charts). Again, she knows this. Still, she pesters me to take part in this hobby - though it is dull for me now, stressful, she's too emotionally invested in it, and it puts me in a bad place. I tell her this, that I don't want to and I'm not interested. Maybe some other time. But then she gets passive aggressive. She says things like "Lol I should just go fucking die. Cheers." No, I mean it. Those were her exact words today, all because I just asked for a little understanding and didn't want to play some dumb ass game that hasn't held my interest for about a year now.

After saying that I'll be more than happy to just chat with her because she says she's been feeling lonely and isolated, then still receiving passive aggressive comments...

Me: Look, I just don't like [it] anymore. I'll get to it when I get to it. It would just be nice if you could understand that.
Other Friend: It's not about [that specific game] for her. She just wants to [play] with you. It doesn't matter which [game].
Me: (Feeling like they just don't get it and like they're going to start dragging me into negativity and gang up on me...) I'm gonna go.
Other Friend: Oki. (With heart emoticons.)
Her: Lol I should just go fucking die. Cheers.

I mean, who the hell does that!? After knowing I'm struggling daily with not offing myself, and knowing that it's just me not wanting to play this game because she's bored and lonely (and she pesters me about it every time I'm online for any decent length of time), she get's like that. Then they proceed to discuss behind my back ways in which she and I were wrong. Normally, I'd encourage this - gain perspective from an outside party. I do it. But HOW WAS I WRONG HERE? Seriously, tell me if you see it.

You see, friendship is a myth. Everyone says it's full of love and understanding, acceptance and building each other up, support... But it's not. People lie. People manipulate. People are self-centered and take advantage of you if given the opportunity. They don't care what you're going through if it doesn't effect them directly.

I'm sure some of you are saying: "That's not true! My friends care about me! I care about them!" Yes, well just wait. If you genuinely care, then it's more than likely they don't. For every person who genuinely gives a shit about people, often at the expense of their own happiness and well-being, there are three people pretending to feel the same and are ready to turn on their friends at a moment's notice.

Am I bitter? Yes. Cynical? Obviously. But am I wrong?

No.

Personal: The Male Half of the Parental Coupling

Daddy issues - if you don't have them, you can name five people off the top of your head who do. I'm one of the countless people inflicted with these issues, but not in the need-to-bed-people way. On the contrary, he has done emotional damage that leaves me not wanting to pursue anything other than a passing nod with people. Just hearing his name gives me a burst of adrenaline poisoned with anger.

My mother bore these seeds of hatred and planted them in my heart, and for a long time growing up, I hated her too. Who was she to turn me against my own father? But as I grew, I saw for myself what kind of man he was. I came to realize that she was not tearing him down to me to turn me against him, but simply refusing to conceal the truth.

And I cannot fault her for honesty, child though I was at the time.

The man (to use the term very loosely) has been in and out of my life whenever it was convenient for him, the resulting wake of his appearances bringing anger and stress like a dark plague. If you, dear reader, believe I'm being too dramatic... You haven't met the man. Spend one hour with him in without leaving the room and you'll want to vomit and/or kick him down a flight of stairs too. Here, I could recite his many, many faults and atrocities. Instead, I will get right to the reason for this...

I always knew my father was a heartless and manipulative bastard who never wanted me, but he recently made another appearance in my life. The king of poor timing, he's failed yet another marriage (to a woman that I actually came to like and appreciate, even if she was a bit of an idiot) and he's moved back to town. My fiance (of whom my father knows nothing about by my own design) and I have been trying to purchase a permanent residence there. Our families assure us that they will help keep my father out of our lives and that it will be easy enough to avoid him.

No. It will be very difficult indeed. He first reached out to my older brother, a man who had much more hatred for our father than I, than even my mother. I expected at best for my brother to ignore him. Imagine my astonishment when my father then reaches out to me and I find out from the both of them that not only has my brother returned contact, he's exchanged numbers and might even be seeing him for Christmas! So after a long consideration, I realize that this might be a good opportunity to do as I always wanted: let go of my hatred and move on.

But such is the curse of social media... You learn things about people you know that, without it, you would have never discovered otherwise. I have since learned that my father is a blatant xenophobe of the worst kind. I won't spiral into it, but upon seeing this I have to wonder what this says about my own brother. It's no longer a matter of personal injustice, but the very principle of my core beliefs. I cannot and will not ever be associated with anyone who shares the same world views that he does. It's left me with more questions than answers. Why, knowing this, would my brother let him into his life? Why has he not spoken up against the things our father has said and done, both personally and otherwise? Will I have to let go of yet another family member to uphold what I believe in?

Thanks a million for coming back into my life, male half of my chromosomes. And thanks for carrying on the tradition of failing me and my minimal expectations. You're a big fucking help.

Abandonment Issues

Abandonment issues. I have them. It's not surprising. A large number of people do. They come in varying degrees with their own fun bundle of effects and spin off neuroses. It's not shocking that my parents are divorced and my dad is a verbally abusive drunk. He never spent much time with me at all. He always preferred my older brother, and even then that's not saying much. He wasn't the parent type and enjoyed sleeping around under the mask that the Navy provided. He'd sleep around when he was out to sea and he'd stay on the ship and pretend to work when he came back to port. He was never around, so I shouldn't have cared when he left.

In theory.

But he did leave, and I did care. I withdrew even more than my introverted self normally did. I internalized and made myself very sick. My brother became angry and lashed out, my mother grew bitter and depressed, and I was left to solve it on my own. I reasoned that everything bad that happened - the attitudes of my brother and mother, the coldness and hatred of my grandparents, the physical and emotional pain I felt, and the poverty - stemmed from his leaving. The more I observed and felt, the more I was assured of this.

As I grew older, people came into my life and left - usually after drenching me in hateful words, leaving me in a low and dark place. Every time someone left me, they did so in a dramatic and cruel way. It didn't help that when I was alone, I internalized and brooded over things. It didn't help that I distrusted people and mostly hated them, nor that wearing masks of who they expected me to be was exhausting. I hated people, and I hated them leaving me behind.

Now, I am alone again for the first time in... years. My fiance has a new job that's mostly travel. The house is empty and too quiet. It started again.

First, the gloom. The thick cloud settled over me and held me down. I spent most of Sunday in bed, asleep. Then came the stress. I'm not very domestic (I loathe it) and only clean/organize when I'm stressed. I scrubbed the bathroom in detail with a small brush, getting every single nook and cranny. Just like clockwork, the shaking followed. I'm jittery and my hands are shaking terribly. It makes it hard to write or do a lot of other things. I know what is to follow: more depression, eventually cleaning the entire house obsessively, bathing obsessively, sleeping a lot, refusing to eat, and then not sleeping at all.

I'll have to learn to cope. For the next two years, I'm on my own. I'll only see him for one weekend every two months. I've accepted that I can't make friends in person; my misanthropy keeps that from happening. I plan on getting another job - one outside of my home with a boss and with coworkers that I see in person; most physical labor is out of the question due to my broken body from a very reckless youth. I wonder if having a job that makes me interact with people will keep me busy or will make things worse.

I guess we'll see.

Clearing Negativity: A Lesson from M

My last two posts were full of anger and sadness, and I think it's time to clear out that negativity. I removed those posts because spreading my anger and grief helps no one, not even me. It only makes the world that much darker. I've changed them to drafts and they'll stay there as a reminder to me. This post will be uplifting (sort of). I have a wise friend, M. He's always tried to help me. The following section is an interview/conversation we had for the purpose of this post (and for my sake, too).

M: When we care about some one and they do something to hurt us, it cuts deeply. The more we care about the person, the more it effects us. We can brew a lot of negativity this way, and that negativity is unhealthy. It can make us physically ill and disrupt our daily lives. We need to clear the air.

Me: It's hard because I'm still so angry right now.

M: You need to explore those feelings in order to let go of them. State them simply and honestly. Be very clear and direct.

Me: She says I always make her the bad guy. But I feel like that she always says that to make me feel guilty for being angry. I feel that she says things with the intent of inflicting pain. Maybe she's being honest. Whether or not she means what she says, she succeeds in making me feel angry, hated, and depressed. I understand that she is upset. I feel that most of it is her own doing. I have seen it with others. She works things up in her mind during the silence and the pauses and - instead of using the time to calm down and think objectively - she allows her anger to fester, posting things where she knows the other will see them and then deleting them when she's sure they have. This keeps them from calming down and moving on. With the exception of today, I haven't done that. But today, I just had to get it off my chest.

M: Let's think of it from her view - or try to. From all the messages you took a screenshot of for me, I can see the exact point where she starts to get touchy. You didn't pick up on the defensive cues, but they were there. Clearly something else has been bugging her that you didn't take into consideration.

Me: There is a guy. But I don't think that gives her the right to be such a jerk.

M: No, and it went on. She seems to have mistaken the pause where you were typing out an explanation of what she asked, for you being annoyed. This clearly put her in defense mode. Then when the accidental message was sent, that's where the conflict started. She probably felt attacked and like you were losing patience. She then leaped to the attack, which upset you and you lost your temper.

Me: I just feel so sick of always having to pick up on every little cue just so that she won't jump to conclusions. Sometimes accidents happen like that. Sometimes things slip through the cracks and she takes it the wrong way. I'm just tired of her immediately jumping on me and beating me down, then acting like it's my fault that she misunderstood.

M: Have you told her this?

Me: Many, many, many times.

M: Then there is nothing you can do but let it go. Take a deep breath. Imagine this conflict as a stone cube. Tear away a chunk of your anger. Inhale. Ball up the chunk of anger. Exhale. Inhale and let it go on the exhale. Imagine it floating up into the sky and disappearing from view beyond the atmosphere. Let's move on to the next.

Me: She keeps posting things everywhere I go. In my feed, on other site statuses. She keeps saying how I'm inconsiderate, a bad friend, how I don't care about her emotions. This not only stabs me deep because of how tirelessly I work to act like normal people, to pretend to feel the same emotions but also because she knows what I am. But she doesn't care. She doesn't care in the sense that she always thinks of how a situation effects her and how she feels. I doubt she's thinking of my point of view and what I might be going through. She just goes through her life doing and saying what she wants, and when there's a conflict, she throws a huge tantrum. She only apologizes when she feels like it, and never means it. And when she apologizes, I've noticed (but ignored) that she'll slip passive aggressive things in there to make me feel bad - one last jab. Like "I'm sorry that I'm horrible. I'll work harder on concealing my emotions and pretending that I'm okay even when I'm not." That's not an apology. That's a slap in the face. But I let it go because for some reason, I just want to be friends again.

M: You're feeling resentment because you feel she's being passive aggressive and that she seeks to "accidentally" hurt you while seeming to vent. Then when she apologizes, she doesn't mean it and seeks to keep throwing barbs at you while vowing to close herself off in some sort of silent punishment to both you and her.

Me: Exactly.

M: Her possible side of this is that she just wants the fight to be over too, but she's still upset.

Me: Then she should just say that. She could just say that she wants to let things go back to normal while we heal. That we should speak again and try to repair the damage, rather than all these negative and thinly veiled attempts at making me hurt.

M: It's possible that she's human, like everyone. She makes mistakes and when she's hurt she seeks to hurt back. If she feels she's not getting anything from you - negative or otherwise (you do keep distance when you're mad), she could be seeking to provoke some reaction to feel like you still care one way or the other.

Me: It still sucks.

M: Consider that your distance could be hurting her. Take a deep breath and hold it. Think of this frustration and lack of communication. Exhale. Take half of that cube and ball it up. Ball up your resentment. Pack it up tightly and coil your body inward. Pull it tight until you feel you can't make yourself any more compact. Take a deep breath in through your nose, hold it and count to five. Now, slowly exhale through your mouth as you allow your body to loosen and expand, imagining the ball floating upward and disappearing as the first. And now the last.

Me: She keeps saying that she gives up. That she's done. That I win. I don't think there's winning in an argument. Everyone is hurt and everyone loses. There is no winning. But what hurts most - more than anything that's happened - is that she gives up. It's only been five hours. I've been trying to calm down and she gave me less than five hours before she was ready to write our whole friendship off and everything we've been through over her thinking that message was meant for her. It wasn't even a negative message! To anyone! She just took it that way, snapped at me, I snapped back, and then that was apparently all it took to destroy a relationship. I felt like she was my sister and this is how it ends? She's done? Just like that? She wouldn't even give me twenty-four hours to get my head on straight. Not even a day.

M: As you've said, silence makes it worse for her. Where you're not communicating, it's snowballing. It's possible that five hours of silence from you made this problem colossal and that's what destroyed it. Not the pebble, but a great boulder.

Me: So we're not friends anymore?

M: If she's made up her mind, there's nothing you can do. If she throws away a friendship over a misunderstanding and lack of communication while you calm down, perhaps she didn't value it as much as you did. Perhaps while you saw her as a sister, she saw you as less than that. To you, this relationship was strong. But if she can give it up, to her it didn't matter. If it's one-sided, then it wasn't healthy. Give it a bit more time. If she wants to talk, she will. If she doesn't, you have your answer.

Me: What do I do with the last piece?

M: Smash it. Find a pillow and swing away until you can't anymore. You have to sometimes just punch the pain out. Guys punch each other. (I'm not condoning violence. That's just what guys do. They beat each other up and then they're friends again.) You punch a pillow. And remember to breathe. What will happen, will happen.

Death and Depression Part 5: To Hell and Back - Redemption

It has been eight days. As I have my whole life, I struggle to balance the two halves of my whole. Having seen life through the eyes of my darkest side, I can no longer doubt that my psych profile was right - at least in part. Yes, I am a highly functioning sociopath - but that's not all of me. I affectionately call myself a freak hybrid. One half of me has a complete disregard for human life, a cruel attitude, easily manipulating and mocking others just for fun, smiling while wishing for everyone to burn... But another side of me tempers it, keeping the peace. It shows understanding (even if I don't feel the same), impartiality, a desire for honesty and loyalty, a craving for acceptance and affection, and even the occasional love for others.

Sometimes it does get too dark. I fed the corrupt side of me and it grew stronger; there's no changing that. The two halves of me constantly fight for control. I can see the truth behind both of them. Yes, humans are inherently evil. But like me, they can choose to keep it in check.

It's cliche to quote from Harry Potter, I know. But those books have had a profound effect on me. It's far more than it seems. It is - among many other layers - a struggle between the dark and the light in all of us...

"... [T]he world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That's who we really are." 

(Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix film, 2007)

Lately, I find myself flipping back through the pages, searching for the lines that remind me...

“It is our choices... that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” 
- J.K. Rowling  (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)

I have the ability to be cruel. I have the ability to do the unthinkable. But I choose not to.

It's a long way back from Hell, and the road is full of unseen pitfalls that test me. But I will stick to the morals that have gotten me this far. I can only hope that with time, I'll find a way to finally beat this, to be human again. You may say "you're still human," but having lived through those last 30+ days, I can honestly say, "No. I'm not." I may be a human physically, but under the flesh, I still have a long way to go to get back to humanity. It won't be easy, but I have to believe I'll make it.

“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.”
- J.K. Rowling  (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire)

“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.”
- J.K. Rowling  (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/44-magical-j-k-rowling-quotes/#sthash.yIjBJEPn.dpuf

“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.”
- J.K. Rowling  (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/44-magical-j-k-rowling-quotes/#sthash.yIjBJEPn.dpuf

“Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.”
- J.K. Rowling  (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) - See more at: http://quotesnsmiles.com/quotes/44-magical-j-k-rowling-quotes/#sthash.yIjBJEPn.dpuf

Death and Depression Part 2: Build. Destroy. Repeat.

It was the week after my grand-uncle's funeral when I got a message from a close friend that his cousin (who for privacy reasons, we will call J) passed away in a car crash and that our other friend (K) was in critical condition; they weren't sure he was going to make it.

I just watched myself sink to the floor and sit there for the longest time, as if detached from my body. I stared at me, staring at the wall, and wondered when the pain would stop so I could get up again. I came back to myself after a couple of hours. I made myself go through the motions, but there was something off about my routine.

I washed my face for an hour, I painstakingly made the prefect cup of tea and poured it down the sink without tasting it. I opened the fridge to look for a meal and stared at the contents for over twenty minutes. I wanted the company of people, but I now live in a bit of a remote area, so I turned to Facebook to contact my friends.

But as soon as they messaged me, I wanted to get away. I couldn't stand being alone, but I couldn't stomach company. I grew increasingly agitated with everyone and everything, withdrawing into myself and picking fights just to feel something that could - for a moment - overshadow my agony. I started questioning myself and my life... Did I have a right to be here? Did I have a right to sit here, eat, sleep, and breathe while people I loved were dying? Did I have a right to be upset when others were having to cope with the loss of their fathers, their children? Who was I to sit here and think about my pain?

And then I questioned who I was. If I could feel this pain, was I really an HFS like my psych profile said? If not, what was I? What was wrong with me, if not that?

The agitation grew. The walls I built up to keep me from - well, everything - broke. I lost part of my sanity, I lost part of my identity, and all of my reason. I would sit for hours and rebuild myself, only to have one stray thought that crumbled them me into dust. Within a week, K passed away, rejoining J. I longed to go with them; I was destroyed. I tried to remember that we are energy and by physical laws, energy cannot be created nor destroyed; I was rebuilt. The cycle continued. Tragedy struck again.

An underclassman that I went to high school with, that I had classes with and befriended, died. It was all over Facebook, the newspaper, the whole damn town. My emotions were all over the place, unreasonable and confusing. At times I would feel blissfully numb, then I would feel angry and confused, then the crushing anguish all over again.

I lashed out at anyone and everyone only to apologize and fall to pieces immediately. I didn't think I cared about my classmate so much, and in truth I probably didn't; it was simply latching onto the residual loss and hopelessness, magnifying it tenfold. In my entire life of caring about almost nothing, I suddenly cared about everything.

The days blurred together and I no longer cared to control it. I simply embraced it. I did whatever came naturally and didn't attempt to regret it. I decided that if it happened, it happened. I wasn't going to add to the blackness by feeling sorry for hurting other people.

The cycle ended. I remained destroyed.

The Temper of an INFJ

I have a temper problem. Shocker, right? Short tempers - or strong, consuming tempers - are common among INFJs. I've heard it described as an extreme rage triggered by a major issue or built up over time on a lot of issues. Most of the time I can be a level headed person, but it took me a long time to keep it in check. (Before you ask, yes sociopaths have tempers. Often, they're portrayed as emotionless robots. As proven in previous posts through various authorities on the subject, this stereotype has no foundation and many psychologists and sociopaths are confused as to its origins.)

Tonight/early this morning was a big tipping point for me. I've been under a lot of pressure and stress - more than usual - and someone insulted me (to someone I consider a friend) in the worst way possible. To me, at least. Then, he started again on an issue he just won't let go despite many pleas to do so - including past ones from the friend whose life he's meddling in. Now, I'll admit I've never liked him. I realize at this time why: I knew guys like him. They were abusive to my friends (acquaintances in high school that I called friends out of expectation) - and a couple of them to me. Physically and emotionally. It set off some red flags with me. So, you can guess what happened next: The classic INFJ rage.

In that moment, I hated him more than I've hated all but one in my entire life - and that's really saying something. I wished him great harm. I imagined him suffering in many ways, especially in those ways he was inflicting upon those very few I care for.

And then I had a moment of clarity: why should he get to make me feel like this? Who is he to make me feel this bad? I control me - all of me. I control my emotions, not this arrogant prick. And that's when I did something that I've rarely done before. I asked for advice. What I received really helped.

I was told to take deep breaths and get out of myself for a while. Call upon my objective side and look at this problem from a neutral perspective. Look at this one problem, and then examine the world at large; see how small and insignificant this moment is. Then I was told to make a choice; go back into myself and decide if I wanted to let this one insignificant moment ruin my night and piss me off, or get a grip on the bigger picture and choose to let it go.

I chose to let it go.

I put on some nostalgic music, poured myself a drink, and reminded myself that I'm striving to be a good person and not allow myself to fall into stereotypes about what I am.

Fuck him. I'm not going to let him matter to me anymore.

My relaxing, nostalgic music: