Today started off great. I woke up late, drank a Mountain Dew, and headed off to Hobby Lobby to buy some paint for a crafty project. After I got some puppy lovin' at a local shelter, I started to head home. After pausing too long (I guess) at an intersection, the car behind me laid on his horn and flipped me off. As he passed me, I looked at his car so I could give him a dirty look or, I don't know, stick my tongue out or something equally as badass. But instead of seeing a person, I saw an open window, with something big and white flying out of it. This guy went out of his way to pass me, honk his horn, roll down his window, and throw something at my car as he passed. Whatever it was hit my driver's side window with a loud THUNK!, and I saw the guy's hand flipping me the bird yet again.
You guys, I pulled over to the side of the road and cried. And then cried some more. I could probably cry right now, in fact, just thinking about it. It wasn't that this little...incident...scared me, though I guess it did a little. It was that I took it personally. I took that guy's finger and flying object straight to heart. I thought to myself, But I'm a nice person! Why did he do that to me?! I'm nice!!! And, seeing his Tennessee plate, thought, Iowans are nice! Doesn't he know that?! I thought Southern guys were supposed to be gentlemen! I was personally hurt by what had happened. After I got home and chilled out by way of a shower and an episode of Teen Mom, I wondered why I had bothered to feel so terrible about something that, really, had nothing at all to do with me.
After some thought, I realized I do this a lot. Things that other people might see as benign, random situations for whatever reason tend to hurt my feelings, which are apparently as delicate as a goddamn butterfly wing. Here are some examples.
When I get honked at while driving, I see it as a personal slight. Not as a friendly reminder ("Hey! The light's green!") or as just something people do when they're impatient, but as, Oh. I am a terrible driver, and this person hates me.
Sometimes my husband will yawn when I'm telling him something. OR he will yawn when we're watching a movie of my choice. I usually take this personally, because how dare he be tired, right? "You don't yawn when we're watching Avengers, Jared! Why are you yawning only when we watch He's Just Not That Into You, Jared?!"
My mom will sometimes suggest, "Well, maybe you could start going to the gym?" as a response to my asking how to relieve stress, how to make my illness better, how to have more confidence, etc. Though I know that this is a completely well-intended suggestion, I always question her. "Why do you say that? Do I look fat to you? Do I look like I've gained weight?" Sigh. Poor Mom.
When dogs don't give me kisses. When cats don't purr when I pet them. Seriously. I have a problem. One time, I got bit by a dog, and I was upset not because it hurt, but because (as I cried to my husband later) he was supposed to be my friend!
My sister and I have tastes that are very similar - she likes to say that I copy her - and we like a lot of the same movies, music, etc. So when she dislikes something that I really like (the show Modern Family, pit bulls, Joaquin Phoenix's movie Her), I'm like, oh...well, my taste must suck.
When someone texts me back, "K." Enough said.
When a waiter or customer service person doesn't smile back at me during a transaction. This is the most hypocritical thing ever, because I have worked in customer service for a long time, and I know how taxing it can be to constantly smile (especially when you have the bitch face/bitchy resting face like I do). Or if I go into The Buckle, if a salesperson doesn't ask if they can help me, I always question my outfit choice.
Kids have never really liked me. Besides my niece Audrey, though, I've never really been around kids or, to be honest, been much of a fan of them. However, now that I'm working for a school district, I am around kids of all ages much more often, and I've gotten a lot less awkward around them. So when I get blown off by a too-cool kid, I am all sad face inside. On the flip side, though, when a kid really takes to me and wants me to be his partner in PE or her helper during class, I'm like score! I'm cool!
I don't like it when people don't like me. Who would've thought, right? But I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE HATE ME! When it comes to not caring what other people think, I talk a big game, but really I always am thinking, Please just don't dislike me, okay?! The few times I dropped classes in college, I was afraid to make eye contact with my former professors in the halls because I worried they were mad. When I leave a job, I automatically assume that my former coworkers think badly of me - I didn't go into Younkers for like two years after I quit, for God's sake! Pam Beesly from The Office said it best, really: "I even hate that Al-Qaeda hates me. I think if they got to know me...they wouldn't hate me."
Wow, that was just one big list of crazy, all unloaded out there for everyone to see. The petty worries and anxieties of an extremely sensitive twenty-something. Is it completely insane to take this kind of crap to heart? Does anyone else do this??
(This list made me forget about the object-throwing douchebag, anyway. So that's something!)