Still A Stranger

With each passing hour, I get more protective of my time and, more precisely, how other people sometimes waste it. I do not like this from anyone but from dysfunctional family members it nearly turns me criminal. Time wasted dealing with the narcissistic, selfish meanderings of knee-jerk, neurotic control freaks is taking its toll in a way that, stopping short of jail time, will have me, at the very least, ignoring their existence for the rest of eternity.

I don’t really care what these emotional vampires do with their lives as long as it doesn’t involve the manipulation of other people, namely me or my loved ones. I will admit fully to being as much of a neurotic train wreck as the next person but I don’t believe my failings should be used as a weapon.  However, there are those in my surrounding family that do, and I can’t stomach it any longer. It’s been building for years and, as the calendar seemingly picks up speed, I get more repulsed by the same old tired game.

Besides my worthy character traits, I can be sullen, sarcastic and a general curmudgeon but if you ever catch me using any of that to twist you into a pretzel you have my permission to apply a swift kick across the head.

In an extreme way it reminds me of the feeling I have whenever I read about a combination homicide/suicide. Instead of the transgressor alleviating the world and themselves of an unmanageable existence, they need that one last desperate move of ultimate control that they were unable to exercise over themselves when they were alive, so they take innocents to hell with them.

That, in a much more passive form, is what some of my family members do. They can’t manage themselves so they apply management to others by clever means of manipulation. I call that ‘dicking’ with someone and, I don’t know about you but, I hate that with the passion of a thousand suns since it results in a simple interaction being mangled and distorted and that results in hours of wasted time fending them off.

I realize that the fictional character, Don Quixote, was relatively delusional but, that taken out of the equation, the pure act of fighting a windmill is an excellent analogy since it involves trying to smite the constant ‘spin’ and all of that flailing away expends tremendous amounts of energy that could be better utilized elsewhere.

So what is it with the desperate need to ‘dick’ with people…to turn some of life’s most benign negotiations into an act of domination?


What the hell is wrong with you?

Do you have any idea what a pox you are? Whatever people say to your face, believe me when I tell you that no one, except those with your same mental illness, like this and they wish you would go away and mind your own business.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.