Discourse On The Disliking Of Me

Have you ever thought about why people don’t like you?  Believe it or not, everybody doesn’t like everybody.  And everybody has at least a couple folks who do not like them.  Yes.  Even you!  There really are people right now on this planet who do not like you.  Get over it.  

But the question is why?  Do you know why?  Do you know enough about yourself to be able to verbalize it?  Are you able to see yourself for exactly who you are and say, “Yeah, I get it," or are you truly clueless as to why anyone would dislike you?

I totally and absolutely get it.  And I don’t even have to spend any time thinking about it.  I actually know more about why someone doesn’t like me than I do who doesn’t like me.  I am sure that a lot of people don’t.  Like me, that is.  I am sure there are people who can tolerate me only in small doses.  I am sure there are people who are flatly apathetic, and really don’t care one way or another.  But it’s not those people I am talking about.  Apathy is fucking boring.  

So why in this god forsaken world would anyone in their right mind NOT like me?  I know, right!  But, 'tis true.  I have always had a kind of polarizing personality.     

Polarizing is just a euphemism for annoying.  Yes.  I am annoying.  AS FUCK.  Like, AS FUCK.  I am loud and obnoxious.  I am overbearing and tend to take over a conversation if it is with someone who cannot or will not push back.  I have actually been working on that, though.  But even my process of “working on it” is obnoxious.  How?  Because, in my mind, in order to “work on it,” it requires me to identify what I call….. ahem…. weak individuals.  Yep, that’s what my inner voice calls them.  It says to me, “Aimee, this is a weak individual.  You must soften your tone because they will easily be pushed, which means they will think you are overbearing, immediately discount your thoughts and opinions, and run far, far away from you.”  Weak individuals.  Truly.  I am fucking insufferable.   In my defense, there are a handful of people I try not to treat this way because I love them and know that they deserve the best of me.  Everyone else?  Fucking spineless fucks. 

The truth is, most are not weak individuals.  They just simply don’t want to get into it with me.  And I can certainly relate to that.  Because there are plenty of folks out there who I have zero desire to get into it with.  And if you frequently feel like you do most of the talking when the two of us are having a conversation, you are one of them.  Or, you are so much smarter than me that I have no idea what to say.  If you are the former, sorry.  Or not?  If you are the latter, then keep talking.  Because although I am not saying anything, I am probably fascinated. 

I am also a bit cold.  I can count on one hand the number of people who can cry in front of me and not send me running for the nearest door.  Or piranha-infested lake.  It sucks.  Because people are conditioned to believe that crying is a way to elicit emotional support from someone.  It is a kind of psychological manipulation, one that is uniquely human.  It is not a bad thing, certainly not.  All of our behavior is manipulation, whether we are manipulating ourselves, the world, or other people. But there are some of us who either have trouble reading emotions, or we do actually read them correctly but are not able to respond ideally.  I.e., when someone cries in front of me and is clearly seeking emotional support, I do not provide said support.  Instead, I run the other way and say something stupid like, “Yeah… that’s a shame.  Okay, well, I have to go take a bath in maggots now.  Bye!”

As an illustration, I give you this- http://www.darwinproject.ac.uk/emotions.  Pretty simple, you think? You look at the photographs and guess the emotion.  Duh, right.  Well, I suck at it.  I got most of them wrong.  Dead fucking serious.  I either got them completely wrong, or very, very muted.  For example, if the most common response to a photograph was "terror," my answer was "concerned."  There was a photograph illustrating "grief and despair."  I answered "contrary."  CONTRARY? Why the fuck would I have thought of that word??  I don't know.  The photograph of "agony, torture, fright" I answered with "stressed."  So.  Yeah.  There ya go.  Take this as a fair warning if you ever seek my emotional support.  Unless you hand me a signed purchase order, I will have no idea how you are feeling or what you want from me. 

Let's see.  Why else would someone not like me?  I am a know-it-all.  A smart-ass.  I have a filthy mouth.  FILTHY.  With little respect for personal boundaries.  I am pert near unshockable and find anything but the most extreme of any situation incredibly boring.  And if I get bored with a conversation, I have been known to just walk away.  So, if you ever feel like I kind of just left you standing at the altar, it's because you bored me.  It is usually not that dramatic or in-your-face.  I find a semi-acceptable break in your speech pattern and suddenly have other things to do, like immediately.  It's only noticeable in retrospect, when you are lying in bed at night and think to yourself, "Holy shit.  She's a bitch!"  

That's another reason why someone might not like me.  I am, indeed, a bitch. 

I have a really horrible habit of playing devil's advocate.  I can and will argue with you for the fun of it, even if I believe the words coming out of my mouth are bullshit.  Even if I agree with you, I will argue the opposing point of view.  Sometimes, I do it for the sheer fun of it.  Other times, it really is what I believe is a legitimate conversational technique, but people misread it.  Most of the time, when I am trying to explain the opposing view, people think I agree with that view.  But that is not necessarily true, and it frustrates me.  Most people are so passionate about their opinions that they think anything and everything opposing that opinion is utterly ridiculous and unexplainable, obviously the product of pure stupidity.  So, when I try to explain that it actually stems from some kind of factual place, well, people get their fucking panties in a bunch.   Of course, I will also do it for fun, if I am bored enough or hate you enough.  

Here are some other reasons people may not like me.   I think I am better than everyone.  And I hate people who think they are better than everyone.  I can spot a pretentious motherfucker a mile away and I will either take them down verbally or I will spend the next several weeks deconstructing them in my head.  Most of the entire Beatles catalog is fucking pretentious and drives me bonkers.  Self-indulgent knuckleheads.  People who love engaging in political banter are pretentious numbskulls, too.  They love it because it makes them feel smart and purposeful.  But it really just makes them look like a pretentious jackhole.  Let me give you a piece of advice.  When you talk, no one is listening to you.  They are scanning the room for the closest exit.  And if you actually find someone who will play along with your yakking monkeyshit, they are just as useless as you are, so.... yeah... have fun with that.  

Obviously, people probably dislike me because I am mean.  I have always been mean.  Sometimes even cruel.  I have apologized once or twice to certain people.  There are still other people to whom I would love to apologize but haven't found the right words.  And there are still other people who can suck my dick while they're waiting on that apology.  If you like me anyway, it is because you get it.  Or, you have just been putting up with my bullshit for so long that it just slides right off you.  Or, because you know how to call me out and shut me up.  And for all of you people who get it, put up with me anyway, or shut me up- I love you.  And to those of you who have never seen that side of me- Give it time, you will.  Everybody's gotta pay to play. 

Of course, I am absolutely positive there will be some of you who will read this and hate me because you think I have somehow written this whole self-disparaging diatribe while, at the same time, making myself sound like a badass.  And.  You're exactly right.   

There is also that little annoying habit I have of talking about myself.   But why else do bloggers blog? 

Now, I am sure you must be wondering, if I am such a horrible person, how can someone have been married to me for 18 years, and how the hell are my children not sociopaths?  

Very, very good question. 

You assume, of course, that Sarge actually exists and is not simply a Psycho-style alternate personality that I have gone to enormous lengths to perpetuate. 

And you assume, of course, that my children are not sociopaths.  

Muuuuhaaaaahahahahahaha!!!!