Things you should know about me
Everybody is, to some degree, a psychological fuck-up, right? Here are some of my fuck-ups and advice on how you can help me, and minimise their impact on you.
Don't patronise me.
If you know better than I do, that will become obvious from what you say; and if it isn't, maybe you don't. There is never a need to treat me like a child who either doesn't know something that should be obvious or is too stupid to understand.
If you don't want to get me furious, don't patronise me. If you do want to get me furious, then you're not my friend and I probably don't spend very much time with you anyway, so knock yourself out.
If I goof up, cover for me, don't harp on about it
Are you the sort of person who likes to point out the deficiencies in others and the mistakes they make and harp on about them in a crude attempt to gain approval from your peers? Or are you a nice person, who feels embarrassed by people's mistakes and wants to disguise them?
It may be as simple as me repeating something somebody has just said because I wasn't listening properly, or being clumsy or forgetful, and yes, it's a cheap one-off laugh at my expense; but if you keep banging on about it it becomes exploitative. It reminds me so much of the kind of playground bullying I used to despise so much at school. Try to show a little more generosity. It doesn't hurt, and, who knows, you may get more of a buzz from that than you get from getting a gaggle of onlookers to giggle.
I can be anxious
I occasionally suffer from anxiety. It's no big deal, but if I start acting oddly or distracted, it may be because I'm having an attack. Anxiety (or panic attacks in its more severe form) can attack at almost any time and be triggered by almost anything. It's particularly disconcerting when I need to be concentrating and/or cannot easily escape, such as when driving, in the cinema, or holding a conversation, simply because the normal recourses (lying down, controlling breathing, finding distractions, taking a pill) are not available. Please be understanding.
I'm a hypochondriac
Aren't we all? Hypochondria, in the mild form that many of us have, is simply the tendency to think the worst about any new or unusual physical trait we are experiencing - a new ache, itch, discomfort - even state of mind.
Surveys show that hypochondriacs have a more realistic idea of the probabilities of them contracting certain illnesses or having certain conditions than 'normal' people. But the point is not the statistics, the point is the inability to apply those statistics rationally, no matter how rational a person you are. Persistent chest pain is a heart problem, persistent headache is a tumor. A lot of people get cancer, so why not you? Some people have to get it, and denial isn't going to help. This is especially true for a lot of chronic and terminal conditions for which the prognosis is far better the earlier it is caught - so better to be safe than sorry, and get checked out!
Of course, in many ways the health service might be better off if everyone were slightly hypochondriacal, because they may catch more diseases and conditions early. The real problem is not that I wind my doctor up. The problem is that it's terribly stressful thinking you might have some horrible illness. There have been times when I've been just about as convinced as I believe it's possible to be that I've got a terminal illness. I've looked into the future and thought "I can't plan to be around this time next year". It can be terrifying. It shouldn't be - everyone dies, and everyone should try to come to terms with it sooner or later. But my journey to that place isn't finished yet.
So, for the time being, you can help by not bringing up the subject of health if at all possible. Or, at least, telling only positive stories. And don't mind me if I seem distracted - it could be that I've got some health issue and I'm worrying about it rather too obsessively. I will learn to control it in time, don't worry.
So I went to Eton. Get over it.
Several things. Firstly, the fact that I went to Eton really isn't the most fascinating thing about me. It may be interesting to you but it really isn't to me, so get over it, and move on. Secondly, I'm actually in some sense ashamed that I went to Eton because it represents such an obscene level of over-privilege, and I'm not at all convinced that boarding school and single-sex education is a good thing. Now, it's not my fault of course, but that doesn't mean I want to sit there while you harp on about it. Thirdly, and related to that, going to public school and particularly Eton carries a stigma. It is mostly an unfair stigma and certainly so in my case, but that doesn't mean it doesn't affect how people treat me and act around me once they know about it. Consequently it is my right to choose when and how people should learn about it. It's an extreme example, but imagine if one of the first things you told people about a gay guy was that he was gay. Not only does it over-inflate the importance of something which the guy may not consider to be a defining characteristic, but it robs him of the opportunity to allow people to get a chance to know him before any default prejudices are dropped into place. So, if it comes up, I may mention it, but I want to choose the moment and the manner myself, thank you very much.
So you enjoyed school. Good for you. I didn't, so please shut up about it.
I was completely miserable at school for the nine years I was boarding. The number of happy memories can be counted on my fingers. I fantasise about going back in time to key moments of unhappiness and doing things differently; like the time some little shit stole my diary and read key, peculiarly embarrassing passages from it to the others in my year - I want to go back in time and beat the crap out of him. That sort of thing.
I remember, when I turned thirty, noting that now I'd been not at boarding school longer than I'd been at boarding school, and maybe now I'd be able to move on. Well, it's not like I break down in tears when I think about it or anything, but I still wince at the memories and probably always will.
I am not happy recalling my schooldays and not interested in joining in your game of reminiscing. Go and find someone else to talk to if you want to discuss the time your school beat my school at rowing, or the fun you had sneaking cigarettes or torturing teatchers. Get back to me when the conversation reaches your gap year.
I'm an atheist, and I'll tell you about it
I'm the kind of atheist who thinks it's important that not only should people talk openly about their non-belief, but that delusional beliefs should be challenged. If you don't want to be quizzed mercilessly about why the hell you think the motion of stars billions of miles away and thousands of years ago have an impact on our lives, or that some giant supervisor was happy to torture and kill himself so that he could circumvent his own already mightily bizarre rules of justice, or that sinfulness in this life is balanced out in some future one because, well, otherwise it wouldn't be fair, then don't bring it up. Stupidity and wishful thinking are never virtues and never deserving of quiet respect, no matter how important you think they are to your fragile psyche. Besides, I'm trying to help you!
Don't patronise me.
If you know better than I do, that will become obvious from what you say; and if it isn't, maybe you don't. There is never a need to treat me like a child who either doesn't know something that should be obvious or is too stupid to understand.
If you don't want to get me furious, don't patronise me. If you do want to get me furious, then you're not my friend and I probably don't spend very much time with you anyway, so knock yourself out.
If I goof up, cover for me, don't harp on about it
Are you the sort of person who likes to point out the deficiencies in others and the mistakes they make and harp on about them in a crude attempt to gain approval from your peers? Or are you a nice person, who feels embarrassed by people's mistakes and wants to disguise them?
It may be as simple as me repeating something somebody has just said because I wasn't listening properly, or being clumsy or forgetful, and yes, it's a cheap one-off laugh at my expense; but if you keep banging on about it it becomes exploitative. It reminds me so much of the kind of playground bullying I used to despise so much at school. Try to show a little more generosity. It doesn't hurt, and, who knows, you may get more of a buzz from that than you get from getting a gaggle of onlookers to giggle.
I can be anxious
I occasionally suffer from anxiety. It's no big deal, but if I start acting oddly or distracted, it may be because I'm having an attack. Anxiety (or panic attacks in its more severe form) can attack at almost any time and be triggered by almost anything. It's particularly disconcerting when I need to be concentrating and/or cannot easily escape, such as when driving, in the cinema, or holding a conversation, simply because the normal recourses (lying down, controlling breathing, finding distractions, taking a pill) are not available. Please be understanding.
I'm a hypochondriac
Aren't we all? Hypochondria, in the mild form that many of us have, is simply the tendency to think the worst about any new or unusual physical trait we are experiencing - a new ache, itch, discomfort - even state of mind.
Surveys show that hypochondriacs have a more realistic idea of the probabilities of them contracting certain illnesses or having certain conditions than 'normal' people. But the point is not the statistics, the point is the inability to apply those statistics rationally, no matter how rational a person you are. Persistent chest pain is a heart problem, persistent headache is a tumor. A lot of people get cancer, so why not you? Some people have to get it, and denial isn't going to help. This is especially true for a lot of chronic and terminal conditions for which the prognosis is far better the earlier it is caught - so better to be safe than sorry, and get checked out!
Of course, in many ways the health service might be better off if everyone were slightly hypochondriacal, because they may catch more diseases and conditions early. The real problem is not that I wind my doctor up. The problem is that it's terribly stressful thinking you might have some horrible illness. There have been times when I've been just about as convinced as I believe it's possible to be that I've got a terminal illness. I've looked into the future and thought "I can't plan to be around this time next year". It can be terrifying. It shouldn't be - everyone dies, and everyone should try to come to terms with it sooner or later. But my journey to that place isn't finished yet.
So, for the time being, you can help by not bringing up the subject of health if at all possible. Or, at least, telling only positive stories. And don't mind me if I seem distracted - it could be that I've got some health issue and I'm worrying about it rather too obsessively. I will learn to control it in time, don't worry.
So I went to Eton. Get over it.
Several things. Firstly, the fact that I went to Eton really isn't the most fascinating thing about me. It may be interesting to you but it really isn't to me, so get over it, and move on. Secondly, I'm actually in some sense ashamed that I went to Eton because it represents such an obscene level of over-privilege, and I'm not at all convinced that boarding school and single-sex education is a good thing. Now, it's not my fault of course, but that doesn't mean I want to sit there while you harp on about it. Thirdly, and related to that, going to public school and particularly Eton carries a stigma. It is mostly an unfair stigma and certainly so in my case, but that doesn't mean it doesn't affect how people treat me and act around me once they know about it. Consequently it is my right to choose when and how people should learn about it. It's an extreme example, but imagine if one of the first things you told people about a gay guy was that he was gay. Not only does it over-inflate the importance of something which the guy may not consider to be a defining characteristic, but it robs him of the opportunity to allow people to get a chance to know him before any default prejudices are dropped into place. So, if it comes up, I may mention it, but I want to choose the moment and the manner myself, thank you very much.
So you enjoyed school. Good for you. I didn't, so please shut up about it.
I was completely miserable at school for the nine years I was boarding. The number of happy memories can be counted on my fingers. I fantasise about going back in time to key moments of unhappiness and doing things differently; like the time some little shit stole my diary and read key, peculiarly embarrassing passages from it to the others in my year - I want to go back in time and beat the crap out of him. That sort of thing.
I remember, when I turned thirty, noting that now I'd been not at boarding school longer than I'd been at boarding school, and maybe now I'd be able to move on. Well, it's not like I break down in tears when I think about it or anything, but I still wince at the memories and probably always will.
I am not happy recalling my schooldays and not interested in joining in your game of reminiscing. Go and find someone else to talk to if you want to discuss the time your school beat my school at rowing, or the fun you had sneaking cigarettes or torturing teatchers. Get back to me when the conversation reaches your gap year.
I'm an atheist, and I'll tell you about it
I'm the kind of atheist who thinks it's important that not only should people talk openly about their non-belief, but that delusional beliefs should be challenged. If you don't want to be quizzed mercilessly about why the hell you think the motion of stars billions of miles away and thousands of years ago have an impact on our lives, or that some giant supervisor was happy to torture and kill himself so that he could circumvent his own already mightily bizarre rules of justice, or that sinfulness in this life is balanced out in some future one because, well, otherwise it wouldn't be fair, then don't bring it up. Stupidity and wishful thinking are never virtues and never deserving of quiet respect, no matter how important you think they are to your fragile psyche. Besides, I'm trying to help you!
posted by extabgrad at 10:05 AM
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