So, You're a Psychopath

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A brief dialogue about what happens after someone sets a time-bomb in motion in your head.

Submitted: March 20, 2019

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Submitted: March 20, 2019

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Here I am, writing in my bed at three in the morning after I laid in my bed for five hours trying to sleep because I keep thinking about this thing that is eating me up inside. No, not eating, destroying me from the inside out. 

After a fairly fun night, to say the least, someone who had [once upon a time] had the potential of being a love interest asked why I kept saying, “Because of one of my issues,” or things along that line. Granted, perhaps I should have bit my tongue instead of saying what I meant. Dodge the question, if you will. However, when you want to talk to someone in the hopes of them [potentially] becoming a love interest you must be open with them. Right? Right. 

So, I told him.

I told him that the reason that I kept saying that the sentence that I was, was because of a long list of mental disorders. A very, long list. I won’t say them here because I’m sparing you from even more reading than you should have to do. However, because of three on that list he proceeded to say,

“Wait, let’s go back to that.” Followed by, “So, you’re a psychopath.”

Pause. First of all, you can bet that that idea of him [potentially] becoming a love interest jumped off a cliff life my sanity had at the age of eleven. Second, I have to wonder where in what world he is from where he thinks that calling someone a psychopath then shortly after hanging up makes anything okay? Because, after explaining another few points on the list I mentioned earlier, he should be smart enough to realize that something like that is now, not only, going to be stuck in my head for days and even months but make me sit there and decide not to open up to someone. All because he decided to utter the sentence with his New York accent that says, “So, you’re a psychopath.” 

Funny, how one person you [plan] to never talk to again can drill a hole so deep that they’re going to be there whether you like it or not.  No, not funny, it’s terrifying if I have to be truthful. 

And you see, I have someone in my life who has known me for about two years now. Even they are trying to get it out of my head, clear it out so that I can function without staring into my cup of coffee wanting to cry.So far, it’s not worked. However, I know that it will take [time] to be okay again. Stupidly. Yeah, I’m beating myself up over that I’m letting this get to me. I’m beating myself up over even agreeing to spend any sort of time with him knowing how judgemental and, frankly, rather careless he is with his words. Red Flags left and right. I’m beating myself up because, I can’t help to think that maybe, just maybe, I really am a psychopath. 

And maybe, just maybe, he’s right. . . ?

As I sit here and write this all out in an [desperate] attempt to clear my head, I can't help but wonder if he will ever even realize that he said it to me? Or, if he will ever realize how much those four [dissmal] words really set in motion a time-bomb in my head that might eventually lead to a relapse of, what I viewed, as a large improvement in my mental state?  Probably not.  Hell, if he even ends up reading this it will be [a miracle] interesting to hear his thoughts.  More realistically, I most likely will not be hearing his thoughts again. Ever again. Especially, when your mental state is as fragile as mine, in my rather short life I've learned that you can't be around people that are going to say things like that because it will just keep setting you back instead of helping you propel forward.

I guess you could say that if he happens to be reading this in his big, accountant office, he can view it as a goodbye? Yes. Let's go with that. His four-word sentence said over a phone call has lead to a goodbye.

Perhaps I shouldn't be writing about him after spending all of less than 24 hours getting to know him but, as I've learned when in doubt write it out, especially if you can't get something out of your head.

Now, I'm going to go back and attempt to sleep. After all, I guess that'd be the only sane, not-psychopath thing to do, right? 

Still, I can't help but to wonder. . . "So, I'm a psychopath. . .?"


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