Tag Archives: my stuff

Super sensitive

Since I’ve accepted myself as abnormal (or perhaps I am the normal one and they are all strange!) I have become a lot more sensitive to criticism. Overly sensitive perhaps?

I have always had an abundance of background paranoia caused by years of actually being the one they talked about, and this is spreading.  It’s infecting my guilt, making me question what I did to deserve such treatment.

In my world, there is no such thing as the bitchiness of others. If I am in receipt of a sour remark, this is because I have already earnt it. Bought and paid for, as you might say.

I volunteered my services recently, and perhaps the fault lies in the way they were reluctantly volunteered. Or by my precious fuck ups. Either way, I was told this person would pay someone else. As an aside, I said they could pay me, knowing that I would never charge this person. Especially not for what they wanted done, as it’s a small job and one I can teach them in minutes. I would have hoped they realised this.

They didn’t.

A response appeared with an emphasis on the negation of any charge, worded in a manner which, in the toneless world of the Internet, felt pointed and jagged.

Now I sit lost and chastising myself for even thinking anyone would want me to help. Thoughts are battering themselves against my skull and I’m doubting myself, the things I worked for and my family.

There are no such things as bitchy comments in my world.

All fault lies here.