I mean just to point out, what I wrote in this entry.
I feel like pointing out, that my world isn’t that bleak. This is one side of me, and perhaps also the reason for me not being a particularly serious person most of the time.
Someone once told me in RL, why I never became a standup comedian, and I told her, that I would never get up on stage like that. I did that when I was young, thinking I wanted to be an actor, and I just can’t anymore. I hate when attention is on me, yet I always seem to be in that position – just by me being me.
I fucking hate it, I hate that everyone knows who I am. And while it’s often pretty neutral, it’s most of the time like neutral-negative. Like they know who I am, but they also don’t want to get to know me, because I’m weird.
And you’re damn right I’m weird, I balance somewhere between two worlds, or so it feels. You know, I am what I am – I was molded by what molded me, which leads me to have a perhaps pretty crude outlook on people.
How can I explain? It’s like I said in that other entry, I don’t really care about people, unless they did something to make me care. Thing is I am actually a huge empath, and most of it is something I learned very early on. Namely, how to protect myself from disappointment, and heartache.
Okay I think I have to pull out an example. So there was this guy, K. He used to hang with the S.H.A.R.P.s that I did. He wasn’t exactly a part of the group of friends that I was, and surprisingly enough still am. Even if all of us are just regular adults now, but I still know these people.
We just kinds adopted K, he was a little older than us, and a little weird. But that was okay. And even after this small group fell apart, mostly because we grew up (also I should mention I was never a classic S.H.A.R.P, but I dated one). Well I stayed in touch with K, because we went to the same concerts and stuff. I mean anything else would be weird, but we weren’t close or nothing.
Now I said in that other entry I got this shit apartment where we lived a bunch of people. Well the dude who owned that house the apartment was in, sold it. And the apartments were to be upgraded, and I couldn’t afford the rent. So I ended up going back to being homeless, living in squats for a while. And then I got another apartment with my childhood BFF (and she still is my BFF btw), but that was madness, and she moved out after like six months. I don’t blame her man, I was way too chaotic and I don’t think I had a fucking sober moment back then.
It’s kinda funny, just have to throw this in there – I saw this documentary about Steve-O, and I somehow saw so much of myself in that, I mean my young self. Before I started to loathe attention, that is. I was very loud and attention demanding to be with, and when I learned at the age of roughly 14 to combine this with alcohol and amphetamines – the game was on! Now unlike Steve-O, I didn’t deal with the negativity well, and that is why I am where I am now. This weirdly stunted state where I can’t be me, but I can’t also not be me.
Anyways… As I was saying, I didn’t have a fucking sober moment from I was 15 til I got pregnant. And when I got pregnant I kicked all habits except smoking cigarettes, and you can say what you want. But in comparison to the habits I had, smokes is like nothing. And while this is a much longer story, it’s not the one I wanted to tell.
So the ultra short version is that I couldn’t stay at my perhaps-boyfriends place because of the dog I had. And so I went to sleep on this girl S, sofa. I lived there for like some months, and we (me and baby daddy) did manage to find a place to live, we actually bought a condo, before Ziggi was born. I did try and do some evening classes, but I only managed to see two of them through. But hey two classes, when you’re homeless and pregnant, that’s pretty good I’d say.
The reason I am saying this is because S, was very close with K, and her sister had dated him in forever. And even after this, S and K was very close friends. Now K got himself a new girlfriend E, she was from Sweden, and I adored her! And because K was reintroduced into my life in a different way, we started to do normal stuff as couples. Like me and D (baby daddy), and K and E, we would celebrate new years together, go to the movies, invite for dinners and all this shit.
I had never in a million fucking years not thought K was not my friend. I mean point one, I had known him since I was around 16, and we managed to redefine our relation and still be friends. In any other circumstance I’d be pretty damn sure we were friends, wouldn’t you?
Seriously, wouldn’t you think that someone like that was a buddy of yours?
Now K broke up with E, and shortly after me and D broke up too. I know that D and K remained friends, and I sorta just withdrew from it. Mostly because I couldn’t stomach D, and I didn’t want to put K in a strange situation.
Sadly I lost touch with E, and I still wonder what became of her. I really, really liked her. A very down to earth hippie kid.
–
Now I didn’t talk with K for many years, but I had a new boyfriend C (his actual initials are CP, but that kinda gives some weird mental images, but just so you know, because I know I mentioned him before in my blog.) And so C and I went to a gig down at a local music venue, and I met K after a very long time, I was really glad to see him, and we talked a little.
Later we sat on the ground down by the wardrobe, me, K, C and some others. I honestly can’t remember who. And I forget why, but I would reckon we talked about other gigs, or people we used to know or some shit… Point one I was super drunk, it’s more than 25 years ago, and I got so angry that all I really recall is what happened. But he said something along with how he used to tolerate me, but always found me absolutely insufferable and hated my guts.
I just reacted with slapping him, with a bottle. I fucking broke a bottle in his face, and left. I was livid, and C was trying to talk me down, but I wouldn’t, and we ended up fighting bad too.
I left and went and slept at another friend, (I lived in another part of the city at this point). The next day I went to C, and apologise because it wasn’t on him at all, I also explained why I had gotten so mad. He suggested we went by K who lived roughly around the corner from C, and I could apologise and also check up on, if he was okay or if he had needed stitches.
I had a couple of beers to man up, and then I bought some beers before we went to K’s place. I knew he was an alcoholic, and no I am not just saying that – I mean that was common knowledge, and also why E had left him. So I figured it would be a welcome olive branch.
The short story here is we went there, and I gave him a beer and we sat down, and I apologised for hitting him with a bottle, and was glad that he had not needed stitches. And he looked at me and said ‘well I meant it’ – or something along those lines.
Basically he just repeated how much he had always hated my company, and how he had tolerated my presence. How he never liked me, but never found the right moment to tell me to fuck off.
I was just floored, truly I was. I got up and said something like; ‘sorry I hit you, I shouldn’t have done that. Even if you are a massive fucking dickhead. keep the beers, and don’t fucking talk to me again.’ I do recall I said that, but I can’t recall if that was the wording, and I left.
I did meet him after, and I just pretended to not know him. But thing is, I can carry grudges for decades, and I never did speak to him again. I haven’t seen him in like 10 years, or more. And I don’t even know if he’s alive, nor do I care.
I told you this, just to make it clear, this is not the only time something similar have happened. But it’s the only time actual violence was involved, and also the only time I apologised for my reaction.
You have no idea how many times I have thought I had a good relation to someone, just to find out I absolutely didn’t. It was all in my fucking head, or something.
Not so long ago it happened again at work, I mean someone complained about me ‘oversharing’, and I don’t feel like I did. This was and is in general a very traumatic event for me. And so I won’t get into it’s details right now.
But just like two months ago, this chick who I feel is very awkward and annoying. She said that she was uncomfortable because I overshared. I asked her when the fuck I overshared, because I didn’t feel like I did. She seriously said ‘when we’re in groups’. I have no clue what that bitch is talking about, seriously. She is the one who made the rest of us listen to how angry she was, she wasn’t hired in a different position. And gave management shit for that. I didn’t call her out on that, even if I felt it was a bit much.
I would never in my fucking life share something like that.
And she topped this off with saying ‘I don’t mean when it’s just you and me, you know when we talk about fantasy books, that’s sorta something we have in common’.
Come again?
You bet we don’t have anything in fucking common anymore. And I just stopped talking to her, besides the courteous coworker crap like ‘good morning’ or just in general ‘there’s a chair here’ or something like that.
She can take that ‘in common’ and stick it.
So I like to give gifts, I made many socks and ponchos for my coworkers, blankets and other crap. And I also gave them books that was being thrown out from Ziggis job, or in this case. I gave her a copy of heart shaped tattoos, with a personal foreword.
But that is not gonna happen again. I did kinda like her, and I agree that I felt like fantasy and reading was something we had in common. But it doesn’t have to be… It makes me sad, it does. But truly, I know I do not overshare, because I don’t tell anyone anything about me.
I did make the huge mistake when I started that job, thinking that I could join in the talk with the others. And we had this ‘tell us about your life’ thing, where I foolishly did, because I had heard some of the others stories that sounded a little like mine. And this one coworker said “i didn’t know it was a competition’. And like that… *wham* all I am, is – I don’t know, a lie? like something I made up for attention?
That hurt so much you have no idea.
It still hurts, if I’m honest. And I am living with that stigma, of being that ‘oversharing’, or ‘r/badass’ chick.
All because I let my defense down a little, I mean these people don’t know half, and still it’s enough to make them “uncomfortable”. I don’t understand why the hell it makes them uncomfortable, it happened to me, not them.
I do not have a singular defense mechanism for this, I never tried this before. But I know it makes me sad.
I feel like I can’t share a singular thing from my life, whereas the others do all the time. So I don’t, and that is why that oversharing comment she made, got me all riled up. She don’t know shit about me, because I don’t tell.
I mean I have another coworker who is in my damn team, he didn’t know I had 4 kids. I never fucking talk about my life, not what came before, what is or what I hope will be.
I feel isolated, and unwanted. Not sure that is right, I mean I could have plenty coworkers that never even thought I’d feel like that. Because I don’t tell anyone.
And why don’t I tell anyone?
Because… okay it’s like this;
*I tried to open up a little, to let my coworkers know me, thinking it was a safe space to do so, since everyone else did it.
*Got told by management, I made people uncomfortable. And this is a work place, so this is a professional relation.
*I tried to tal work related things on our breaks then, thinking that was what they meant with professional relation.
*Got told by management, I made people frustrated because I talked work related shit on the breaks. It was a break, not a meeting.
*I just stopped talking all together, avoiding any and all social events at work.
*Got told by management, I made people worried because I didn’t invest in the work collective, and didn’t seem interested.
You tell me, what is a girl to do?
In the end I had to drop the neurodivergent card, and say ‘I can’t decode social standards, I find this very hard to navigate’. Which isn’t a like, but it isn’t the truth either. I have no fucking problem being social, but I don’t know how the hell to be social with these people. And the thing is, I am a great chameleon, I talked about masks before. And I know how to fucking blend in, and pretend I was always there. Just because I am terrified of people seeing the real me.
And yet even when I do, what the others do. It’s wrong, because I am the one doing it. That is the only conclusion I can come to. It is that I somehow managed to get the stigma of the office weirdo, and nothing I can do will change that. I mean people will leave the outdoor smoking area when I come, even if I don’t say anything and just browse my phone.
At no point do any of my coworkers ask me to come down for lunch, or if I want anything in the supermarket, or in general just come chat. I can be at the office for an entire day, not speaking to a soul. If I am at my desk, the girl I share office with, will find other places to be. When I text my team that I’m sick for instance, I don’t get a ‘get well soon’ text back, like the ones I send, or they send to each other.
And it’s fine.
Because it just has to be fine. I don’t exactly know what I did to deserve being the office lepper, but I am. And that is also why I’d never tell them anything, as I said in my earlier entry… why give them the ammunition needed?
You might argue if I just interacted, they’d get to know me. But you see, I’m pretty sure after four years, they are not interested in getting to know me. I mean I don’t think they hate me, or actively dislike me. I think it’s just one of those things, like the sky is blue, water is wet and I am not someone you want to be caught in any social interaction with.
When that girl told me I overshared, I remember I said something along with ‘just tell me to shut up or fuck off, it’s fine. I don’t mind… I’d rather that, than you bitching about it behind my damn back.’
What I didn’t say was ‘or bring it up after we’ve been working together for 4 years’. I don’t know why they can’t see they come off as slightly disingenuous.
But you see, I don’t care that I make someone uncomfortable. What care about is how it makes me feel when I’m ‘tolerated’. It is seriously the worst feeling on earth, to know people would rather you weren’t there, but they can’t either find a way to make you fuck off, like K. Or are in a situation where they have no say in who they work with.
Perhaps what is making them uncomfortable, is the fact that people like me belong on the other side of the table? like I’m some fucked up interloper.
Sometimes I tell myself, if they only knew how much determination and work it took for me to get here, surely they’d see that I absolutely earned my place next to them. But I could never tell them, because they don’t want to know.
It reminds me of this one time I was fired from a job, just because the other dude who did nightshift with me thought I was annoying as fuck. I mean, okay. But when I was fired, I remember the manager told me that everyone hated me, and she had in fact tried to protect me. But now she had to just let me go.
What?
And actually I was fired from my second job the day after, and some time later I found out that one of the people who worked there, had a nephew I think, who worked that other place.
I was not fired because I was bad at my job. I was fired because someone was annoyed with me. And why was he annoyed? Because he wanted his old-time regular nightshift partner back, but she applied for different shifts to dodge him. I know this because I worked with them both.
So I was very upset, and contacted the people on my facebook who was my coworkers at that time. And I asked them if they really hated me, why they hadn’t said something. And every single one of them said ‘what?’, or ‘I didn’t know you were fired’. Not only was it not true ‘everyone hated me’, but they had also never announced that I was fired. It felt like a back door arrangement to me, but I could never make anyone listen, because it sounds wild, and also I sound bitter.
Damn right I’m bitter, I was fired because some jerk didn’t get it his way.
I always said, I’m easy to speak to, but I am not easy to get to know.
I will talk about surface shit, which would go over super well, if only I had a singular coworker who shared my interest. But I don’t, and I don’t share theirs. This means we’re talking different languages to begin with. Tell me, why the fuck should I even try?
I don’t want to know them.
Which is kind of a lie, but I am not in a position where that is ever going to happen. So I do care, which is what makes me sad. I am tired of people always living up to my terrible expectations, and the one time I decide to go ‘i’m adult, surely it can’t be that bad’. It just made everything ten times worse.
Before you say ‘rosenthal effect’, let me stop you. Because I did fucking try, okay? I did try, but I lack the most important thing. Sincerity. I don’t mean it, it’s a role I play to please the people who have to put up with me. And I thought I was much better at it, than I apparently am. But I think the distance is caused by the fact they can’t really read me, because I’m all surface.
Because I can’t afford to be anything authentic, to be me. My life have taught me; that I as an individual is revolting to many, and unwanted by most. Ergo if I don’t want people to distance themselves, I have to find a way to pretend I’m one of them.
Apparently the older I get, the harder it gets to maintain. And mostly I do damage control, like screaming into the void here on my blog, just to let some steam out.
I do have some workspace rules, where the most important is; notice when others go for their break, so you can plan yours before or after theirs.
*don’t act surprised when people leave when you enter, always bring a book or your phone so you have something to do.
*don’t engage in ‘watercooler’ conversation on the other side of two sentences like ‘hi’ or ‘good morning’, unless it’s info.
*don’t ever get involved in smalltalk, this is also why you always bring a phone or book, because if you read, or focus on your phone, they will not address you. Nor will it look weird that you don’t engage in th conversation.
*don’t express any personal opinion, unless it’s strictly professional and work related. And don’t engage in any form of ‘relateable’ conversation, especially not if you know the answer. They don’t want to know.
*don’t stop in front of people’s offices, they do not wish a conversation. Unless it’s a practical question.
Everyone will be happier for it.
You know I see live videos on facebook, and on Insta – all saying #adhd #stopmasking #fuckyou. And that is nice and all, but they are always either kids, or famous people.
Most of us can’t just go ‘fuck it’ and let it go, and just be. We’d be out of a fucking job so fast your head would spin.
And so like my office rules, I have life rules too.
*Never trust anyone who gives you compliments, unless they are reacting to something specific you created.
*Never give anyone your real phone number, when you’re at a bar. They don’t want to know you when they are sober. And you don’t want to make it awkward.
*Anyone giving you romantic compliments, are lying. You are none of these things, and they think you’re easy prey with a low standard. Laugh at them, that makes them leave.
*Don’t stop and smalltalk, even if it’s old friends. It’s awkward, and unwanted.
*Don’t accept group invitations to anything, they don’t care if you show up, they are just being polite.
*Don’t tell anyone the truth when they ask about an ex. just smile and say ‘I don’t know what they’re up to these days’.
*If you must respond to any of the above; do so with a laugh or a cat joke. That makes them go away.
*They are not your friends.
DREAMS OF A LOST MOONCHILD 
Leave a reply to NördHrafn Cancel reply