Hey, If I’ve been a Dick to You

Hey, If I’ve been a Dick to You … I’m truly sorry.

I’m not going to use my Social Anxiety as an excuse for being awkward. Or, my occasional drunkenness as so-called self-medication to overcome my Social Anxiety and Depression among other psychoemotional ailments to defend whatever shitty behavior I might have been perceived as having in front of you.

Nor am I going to somehow blame my occasionally life-stopping Tinnitus or, my self-consciousness about my physical disabilities like teen onset arthritis and plaque psoriasis.

When I’m a trying to be a dick, it’s likely intentional and you’ll know it’s intentional to you. There will be no mistaking I’m taking you down based on you, specifically, as an individual human being. I’ll target your flaws and idiosyncrasies as best I can as they are unique to you and you’ll understand it is you and your actions, deeds and whatnot that I’m upset, frustrated or otherwise in response to.

I’m not saying I’m proud of being a dick. But, I at least like to think I recognize I’m specifically being a dick to you. And attended to my affliction of the human condition and personal failures managing such focused, albeit inappropriate emotions, in short order.

Trust me it wasn’t based on some shallow stereotypes of who someone else might perceive you to be or anything bullshit like that. I was most likely targeting you because of who you and I are together — acquantences, schoolmates, coworkes, friends, family etc.

It’s more likely something in my own shortcoming as a human being being manifested because of the terms of whatever that relationship is. We all make mistakes. I’m prone to them essentially no more, or no less, than anyone else is.

So when I make you feel uncomfortable, more likely than not it is because I’m already uncomfortable myself. Chances are, you didn’t mean make me feel uncomfortable intentionally, if you were even the reason for my discomfort at all. But, for whatever actions I took — maybe I was overtly distant to the point of appearing to patently ignore you — or maybe I was disproportionately engaged where it felt like I was encroaching on your sociopersonal space — I’m sorry for making you feel out-of-sort.

For whatever it’s worth, and probably not much if you’re squeamish enough, you likely experienced from your perspective something similar to what I felt from mine and left with the same WTF kind of opinion as I did. Not only that, but, you’re not alone, I’ve experienced encounters with family, friends, schoolmates, coworkers and social acquaintances that make my skin utterly crawl for as long as I can remember.

And, for as long as I can remember, any kind of weird social encounter that went awry was always positioned as being my fault. No matter what kinds of fucked up stuff people around me might do or say, because I an introvert, there was a propensity to blame me for the weirdness because socially extroverts are given the default behavior status no matter how overwhelming and oppressive they might be. Just being me being “shy” was, and in a lot of cases still is, the blame for everyone elses inability to act like decent humans to me.

Worse than that, if I were to attempt to fake being an extrovert and force myself into social situations my self-conscious critique would make the whole thing even more weird and awkward than it already was. So, while I occasionally come across as a pretty outgoing individual who can carry on sometimes any conversation about anything, what you’re seeing is a poorly constructed facade that takes a tremendous amount of effort and energy to to a shitty job at putting up in the first place. And when that facade crumbles my fake extrovert personality gives way to my true introverted self and really, really weirds people out. I can’t even begin to tell you some of the shitty things other people have done while I’m recoiling in social fear to my true introvertedness.

It might seem like I can converse and debate till I’m blue in the face, but the reality is just that, I am blue in the face from exhaustion about a minute into almost any interaction. I literally would almost rather be anywhere else than dealing with the awkwardness I feel in dealing with you. Don’t believe me, ask my wife. I still suffer from social anxiety with her even now like a decade into our friendship, so you can only image the weirdness of our first few dates. She’s an angel for having tolerated me, to be sure.

Look, I get it. I suck at human interaction sometimes. I make myself uncomfortable talking to myself. I can only image what I might inadvertently do to someone else without the deep insights into me that I have when I’m insulting myslef unintentionally.

So, if I made you uncomfortable for whatever reason, I’m saying I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to take your job, or get you into bed, or undermine your intellect, or get you fired, or make you feel like less of a human being.

Unless, that is, of course, I told you you were a fucking idiot. If I said that out loud, well, I probably meant it. You probably are a fucking idiot. Can’t do much about that now. I’d say, you should look up Dunning-Kruger as an explanation to why you deserved it, but chances are, if you suffer from Dunning-Kruger you won’t have the werewithall to comprehend it in the first place.

But, if I didn’t specifically point out your inherently flaw in the human condition I wasn’t actually intending to make you feel awkward in the first place.

I know that’s not much consulation in the grander scheme of things. My actions alone aren’t probably what ails you but rather the culmination of a lifetime of shitbaggery happening around you in which my piss poor social skills contributed to your negativity.

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About thedoormouse

I am I. That’s all that i am. my little mousehole in cyberspace of fiction, recipes, sacrasm, op-ed on music, sports, and other notations both grand and tiny: https://thedmouse.wordpress.com/about-thedmouse/
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