Paranoid Empathy

     Paranoid Empathy, or Empathetic Paranoia, these two together make a very interesting mix in life.  I have been blessed (cursed) to be, developed into, been conditioned by my early childhood, or born as an extremely empathetic person.  I can read, and respond to, the emotions of others very, very well.  After talking to someone for only a few moments, I can generally tell what their overall mood and/or emotional state is at the time.  The blessing part of that is that I make a very good listener, I can respond to the persons real needs rather than what they are saying verbally, and am a more compassionate person because of it.  It also means that by its very nature, I am a very emotional person.  Here comes the curse, though.  I am a very emotional person. People don’t like being read too easily.  They are uncomfortable with it.  And they don’t get close on more than a completely friendship basis, because dating someone that can read you that easily must be truly scary.  So I got to be the geek in High School that was buddies with all the hot popular chicks (but not in public, that would ruin their rep), the one they told all the intimate desires about regarding OTHER people they wanted to date, but never once did I get a date in High School with a truly hot chick.  I got really tired of being everyone’s best buddies while they went out and fucked the shit out of a bunch of jock losers, then came to me to piss and moan and share their pain when the guys treated them like shit.

     Enter the Paranoia.  For whatever reasons, quirk of depressive state, too many drugs in one year in college, I ended up being somewhat paranoid.  Not that the world was out to get me conspiracy theory type of deal, but just that people were pissed off at me when they weren’t, ready to fire me, etc.  Couple this with the Beast, and the grip of the “I Don’t Give A Fuck About the Consequences” that often arrives with it, and now you’ve got a little problem.  Not too bad, though, so lets throw a little heavy empathy in the mix.  Now I know for SURE that someone’s pissed off because of the empathy, I think they’re pissed off at ME because of the paranoia, and if it’s a bad day, I don’t give a flying fuck at a rolling donut about it, and am just as likely to say something that WILL piss them off if they weren’t already.  Woo Hoo.  How’s that for a freaking rollercoaster, folks?  Did ya LIKE that ride?  NOT.

     People don’t like going out with someone that asks them what’s wrong every single time something is wrong.  Even if its not wrong, and they’re just a little off for the day, they don’t like someone picking up on that all of the time.  The gift turns to stone.  The Midas Touch.  I’m the understanding, sensitive, slightly emotional boyfriend that most girls think they want to have around, and when they finally get it – hell no, that wasn’t what I thought I was getting.  Whatever.  I think Empathetic Paranoid works the best.  Anyone else have a better LABEL?

 

Michael