You know those people who pride themselves on always “telling it like it is” with “no filter,” who hurt others for sport and then bash anyone who objects for being oversensitive and weak?
I hate those people.
I am one of those people.
I use raw, vicious truth to wound and then I beat up my victim for allowing me to beat her up. I despise myself for it and deservedly so, so I redouble my efforts.
I don’t lie; rather, I practice a cruel version of honesty in which I endlessly repeat the nastiest facts I can think of. When people try to intervene I inwardly sneer because I know that they are liars, telling my victim what they know she wants to hear. She won’t believe them, because she knows I always tell it like it is. No filter. No mercy.
* * *
Today I told Twitter that I am ugly and a few kind-hearted liars jumped in to say otherwise. Some of them have met me in person and actually know what I look like, more or less. I thanked them and I meant it, but I know better than to believe them. I have mirrors, you see, and an inner bully that won’t let me view myself in any but the harshest, most unflattering light. I know exactly how I look: Objectively, almost measurably ugly. Tell me I’m pretty – tell me I’m not hideous, even – and I know you’re either guessing or trying to deceive.
It helps to know I’ve somehow connected with people who are willing to try to trick me like that. It helps that they bother. But on days like today, when I’m trapped in my own head with an unrelenting critic bent on showing me just how defective I am, those people will never succeed. I know what I am, which is a big part of why some days I don’t leave the house. Nobody else should have to see me. The world gets uglier the moment I step out the door.
Other people would never tell me that, so I have to do the job myself. I have to protect everyone else – all those gentle bleeding hearts – from the beast that is me. Good thing the beast is weak and oversensitive, a perfect victim. She hates me, I hate her. We agree on everything.
* * *
I forced myself to go outside today, just for a while and very close to home. I didn’t run into any other people, although some might have seen me from their windows. I hope not. I looked repulsive. It was a relief to come back inside.