In my blogging life, I am known as a lot of things. Snarky being the first thing most people say. Witty? Maybe… Would I say I’m witting? No. I’d say I’m rude and sarcastic, but people think it’s funny and some how akin to wit.
But as time has moved forward (as it’s bound to do), I have become increasingly isolated. Yes, it’s true that the initial isolation was not through choice, but due to my illness. And goodness knows that I found it lonely and hard to live that way.
I was used to lunch each week with my (then) best friend. We got manicures each month. I hopped on my blog and chatted away after working a 14 hour shift that was spent working hard and laughing a lot with co-wrokers. To suddenly be alone and isolated was hard.
I have always been a homebody. I have always preferred alone time to people. People exhaust me. I’m a true introvert, but many people would never guess because I come across as very friendly and outgoing. But the reality is that I would spend every second waiting for a moment alone.
But self imposed isolation is different. Choosing to be alone most of the time is not the same as having alone time forced on you. Let alone when stuck in bed in one bedroom of your house.
But as time moved on, I grew accustom to being alone. I grew to like the quiet in my house, the gentle breathing of my sleeping pups and the fact that I still keep my phone on silent all the time.
Then a funny thing happened.
After a while, I started WANTING to be alone. I wanted to ignore my email and text messages. I starting finding people not just exhausting, but insuffereable.
I have always considered myself a grumpy person. I have also always assumed that no one likes me in my life. Not in a negative way, but I’m sarcastic and moody and often overly honest in my life and I just assume people hate that. I’ve never really sought the approveal of others in life, so I have always just kept most of my relationships very superficial. Which is why I have very few people I consider true friends.
But as I have started being alone more, I have started wanting to be alone more. As I stopped regularly logging into Facebook, I have started to not want to log in at all.
I now understand why hermits stay hermits. I get why those who are alone, stay alone. Somewhere, down the line, a glitch in your social interaction happens. When you are no longer FORCED to “suffer fools,” you begin to lose your ability to suffer them with humility. Suddenly, my “who cares” attitude had given way to “who cares, you are all stupid, I hate humans.”
It’s fair to say that I always kind of hated people. Hell, half of my blog is based on the concept that I hate everyone. But at some point, it sort of stopped being a joke that edged on the verge of reality to just fucking reality.
I hate people.
I hate people the way some people hate eggplant (which I also hate).
I think the list of things I hate has officially out grown the list of things I have slightly warm feelings towards. And definitely things I outright like and enjoy.
So, I ask you my friends and readers of my snarky, mean, and otherwise grumpy blog: Where is the line?
At what point do you move from a lovable curmudgeon to just plain being a bitch? Because I’m pretty sure I crossed that line months ago.