FERAL_FRENZY
Legionnaire <3
- Apr 18, 2024
- 76
(I don't really know if this post counts as a vent, but I'm gonna tag it as one regardless. It doesn't COMPLETELY sound like a sob story so that should count for something I guess.)
Growing up, I've realized that I've always been a selfish person at heart. More or less. In all my 18 years on this planet, I can only think of two separate occasions where I was completely selfless in my thinking. But as for the rest of my childhood days, I can't recall ever doing good deeds without expecting something in return. Hell, even in the present day, I still treat my relationships with this transactional mindset. This even extends to how much I'm able to empathize with my peers. Whenever I'm comforting someone, I feel like I'm doing it with the intention of getting things "back to normal" so I won't have to deal with the discomfort of sitting in someone else's negative emotions. And after I've successfully cheered them up, I don't particularly care for their newfound happiness; rather, I focus on the fact that they're far more likely to be content with going along with whatever activity I've got planned for us next. In short, you feel like shit > I cheer you up > You fall back into our usual routine.
Even when interacting with people I'm fond of, this pattern of thinking still persists. Hearing about their problems makes me feel something similar to empathy. (I say "similar" because it's still somewhat self-serving. I believe this is as close to the feeling as I can get.) I always envision what it'd be like to be in their place and how their misfortune would make ME feel. By then, I can put on a performance of compassion and understanding, even though the other person's unaware that I'm essentially treating the interaction as if I were talking to my clone, an extension of myself.
What people DO pick up on, is how robotic my attempts at consolation can come across. I've even had a friend jokingly compare it to speaking with someone who works in customer service. Deadpan, as if I'm rehearsing a script, which I guess I technically am. I'm just telling them what they wanna hear. No matter how hard I try, I'm never truly able to see others as individuals. You MUST be attached to me in some way in order for me to give a damn about you.
My family believes that this is all the result of "childhood trauma." That I've always been a total saint, capable of feeling compassion for even the most misfortunate of people. I HATE that idea with a burning passion. It's like they can't stand the idea of one of their own being fundamentally fucked since birth, so they'd rather convince themselves that some tragic event must've "changed" me for the worse. It's pathetic, and I take every opportunity I can to rub it in their faces. Knocks them down a peg, y'know? 10/10 would recommend.
All jokes aside, I'll admit that this does bother me from time to time. Or rather, my LACK of guilt bothers me because I believe my train of thought doesn't align with my perception of how one should "typically" react to others' misfortune. (Basically, feeling guilty about NOT feeling guilty.) I KNOW I shouldn't think this way, but I'm in too deep to be bothered. So, I flip-flop between feeling like the scum of the earth and not giving a shit and going about my day. It's just the norm at this point.
Growing up, I've realized that I've always been a selfish person at heart. More or less. In all my 18 years on this planet, I can only think of two separate occasions where I was completely selfless in my thinking. But as for the rest of my childhood days, I can't recall ever doing good deeds without expecting something in return. Hell, even in the present day, I still treat my relationships with this transactional mindset. This even extends to how much I'm able to empathize with my peers. Whenever I'm comforting someone, I feel like I'm doing it with the intention of getting things "back to normal" so I won't have to deal with the discomfort of sitting in someone else's negative emotions. And after I've successfully cheered them up, I don't particularly care for their newfound happiness; rather, I focus on the fact that they're far more likely to be content with going along with whatever activity I've got planned for us next. In short, you feel like shit > I cheer you up > You fall back into our usual routine.
Even when interacting with people I'm fond of, this pattern of thinking still persists. Hearing about their problems makes me feel something similar to empathy. (I say "similar" because it's still somewhat self-serving. I believe this is as close to the feeling as I can get.) I always envision what it'd be like to be in their place and how their misfortune would make ME feel. By then, I can put on a performance of compassion and understanding, even though the other person's unaware that I'm essentially treating the interaction as if I were talking to my clone, an extension of myself.
What people DO pick up on, is how robotic my attempts at consolation can come across. I've even had a friend jokingly compare it to speaking with someone who works in customer service. Deadpan, as if I'm rehearsing a script, which I guess I technically am. I'm just telling them what they wanna hear. No matter how hard I try, I'm never truly able to see others as individuals. You MUST be attached to me in some way in order for me to give a damn about you.
My family believes that this is all the result of "childhood trauma." That I've always been a total saint, capable of feeling compassion for even the most misfortunate of people. I HATE that idea with a burning passion. It's like they can't stand the idea of one of their own being fundamentally fucked since birth, so they'd rather convince themselves that some tragic event must've "changed" me for the worse. It's pathetic, and I take every opportunity I can to rub it in their faces. Knocks them down a peg, y'know? 10/10 would recommend.
All jokes aside, I'll admit that this does bother me from time to time. Or rather, my LACK of guilt bothers me because I believe my train of thought doesn't align with my perception of how one should "typically" react to others' misfortune. (Basically, feeling guilty about NOT feeling guilty.) I KNOW I shouldn't think this way, but I'm in too deep to be bothered. So, I flip-flop between feeling like the scum of the earth and not giving a shit and going about my day. It's just the norm at this point.
