Posts tagged ‘misanthropy’

Me, myself and everybody else

The title of this blog, and the tagline which goes with it, is no accident. Originating from the Greek words misos (“hatred”) and anthrōpos, (“man, human being”), misanthrophy is defined as a hatred, dislike, or distrust of humankind – an attitude which sums me up very well.

Obviously this is a generalisation as it is, objectively, impossible to hate people I have never had the displeasure of interacting with. It is also not to say that I hate everyone I have ever met.

As unbelieveable as it might sound there are people out there I count as friends – though God knows why they put up with me. I do not however suffer fools. There is no gladly about it – if you give me cause to think that you are a fool (and the barrier is not a high one) then you can expect me to treat you with contempt. The more of an idiot I rate you, the greater the level of contempt you will receive. No one is spared… regardless of whether they are faceless organisations, politicians, people I only deal with occassionally, colleagues, former friends, or family – even if I do just about manage to pull my punches when dealing with the latter.

That does not however tell the whole story, as a recent tweet of mine makes clear:

I’ve realised I have two problems in life: myself and everyone else. This is, on reflection, a bit of a problem. #wellandtrulyscrewed

Yes, that’s right. In addition to my severe dislike of my own species, I am not a fan of myself.

Like Arnold Rimmer I am plagued by a sub-consciousness which apparently hates me and is known to play back the worst episodes of my life whenever it fancies – usually when things seem to be looking up. When it isn’t doing that, it is want to worry over some issues like a dog given a bone and will repeatedly come back to them long after they should have been put to bed. My internal critic is a hyperactive bastard who simply won’t shut up.

To make matters worse, it isn’t even consistent. Like a barometer my mood – and thus my tolerance level – varies. Sometimes I can be almost normal, other times (such as now) I am almost impossible to deal with to the extent that, when I realise, I hate myself even more and I find myself breaking down in tears at my own inadequacies.

Thus I am caught on the horns of a dilemma: if I withdraw from the world, I have to put up with my own self-loathing yet if I hide from that I have to put up with humanity.

There is, of course, a third altenative but whilst I have, to date, written three notes I have yet to summon up the courage and/or stupidity to actually follow through.

Of the three less than welcoming options, the most attractive one appears to be becoming a recluse. Having survived 33 years of myself so far I can at least take comfort from the thought that I am getting closer to the downhill stretch whilst it reduces the amount of stupidity generated by our species on a hourly basis I have to put up with.

Sadly my circumstances don’t make that possible at the present time.