On the subject of selfishness
I am a selfish person. That I know for sure. How do I know this? Because I have been told so many times. What makes me worthy of this title, however, is much more of a mystery to me. Particularly in the last couple of years, I've pondered and experimented and debated what exactly it is that others see in me that I cannot, but to no avail.
The most recent occurrence would be the night I severed my ties with the girls I shared a study with at sixth form. The argument flared up rather violently from an exasperated criticism on my part to the ringleader screaming that I was 'so selfish', or that people hated me because I was 'so selfish'. While I am not upset by her words (which I'm sure that she 'didn't mean', and got said in the 'heat of the moment', heh heh...), they have stuck with me.
What is it that makes me 'so selfish'?
A simple answer hangs over me; the ringleader who made this accusation was far too uninteresting to get attention by any other means than having a good regular publicly staged cry. If she has problems, I offer my sympathy, however crying people make me extremely uncomfortable, and I don't know how to comfort them. So it seems most logical to leave them to more delicate hands. Quite possibly, this girl felt my lack of attention was a selfish act, purely because she was so appalled to not be offered the attention she craved. Or, more likely, it is a selfish act to not comfort someone in a time of need because it puts one in a position of discomfort.
This is a social setback of mine; I refuse to take initiative with people, even good friends, and will not talk to them 'first' unless urgency calls for it.
There are two obvious reasons for this. Firstly, most of the people I meet in my life do not like me. I'm not for everyone. Therefore, I feel it would be unfair to force my company or attention on people who don't want it. I much prefer people to come to me, because people will only do this if they want to know me. Secondly, I used to be very attentive to those I wished to be my 'friends'. This trait was quickly quashed by negative reinforcement - my friendliness was construed as lesbian advances. Again, a title I have been given by many, though I cannot fathom what makes others think this. I guess at that age, anyone who doesn't have a boyfriend is thought to be lesbian... Admittedly, I've never had a proper boyfriend in all my life, though all my sexual enthusiasm has always been directed towards men (particularly the fictional variety). I guess people see what they want to... Anyway, I digress. At the end of the day, I have to construct a very strong bond of understanding with someone before forcing my company on them. Does this lack of attention make me selfish? It could possibly appear to be, to those who don't understand the aforementioned. I would seem to be the kind of person who never thought of others, who never asked after them or wondered how they were getting on in their journey through life. Maybe I appear to not feel for the situations of my peers. Of course I do! When in a group, my first priority is to ensure my actions don't upset the others- or at least I try to make this the case. I do have feelings, but I keep them locked away most of the time so they don't get hurt. Even if one does care about what is happening or being said, it's best to convince one's self that they don't.
This is what I can fathom. But I cannot think what other commitments one has to make to a social circle to avoid the S brand. I remember birthdays, but very rarely post a greeting on Facebook. The reason for this is because nowadays, the frape is to change the birthday. Id much rather be a bad friend who ignored a birthday alert than a bad friend who didn't even know that so-and-so's birthday wasn't for another half a year. Again, because I'm so widely disliked, there's far too much for me to fuck up - my mistakes stick around much more than those of someone who is widely loved.
Then come the accusations of the hurt parents - 'you don't do anything to help us', ' you take everything we do for granted, you are ungrateful'.
Yes, I don't do enough to earn my keep at home and deserve the immense financial support I get from my parents. That will change (an experiment to see how the attitudes of my family change when I do contribute). However, I am by no means ungrateful. In fact, I've told my parents explicitly many times how grateful I truly am for their support. I've told them how I plan to repay them in gifts and gestures when I get my degrees and can actually afford to, but this kind of talk grates with my dad. He just tells me to shut up and 'stop kissing ass', or whatever. So, I drop the subject of how grateful I am for a while. Then, I'm ungrateful because I never say I am. -facepalm-
They have accused me of never thanking them for the money or the things they do for me. Again, if I thank my dad too much for a lift in the car, he says I 'don't have to thank him every time he puts on the handbrake'. And so many text messages where my mother has told me she's transferred money to my bank account merit a thanks all in capitals with many exclamations. I thank her in person when I come home. Maybe there are some things I take for granted.
So the main concern with my family is that I don't earn my keep. As far as I'm concerned, there's only one way to solve that - do more helpful shit.
My philosophy on the subject of selfishness is simple: most people have the means to look after themselves, and to do whatever they can to make their life a happy, enjoyable one. Such as me sitting down to play DMO, with my cat on my lap.
Today, and a few days before it, have been different. I got up, had some tea, watched a bit of Sailor Moon, then took Wallis out for a particularly long walk. Then I got started on Father's dinner. I let the chickens out of their run to wander round the garden, and gave them some lettuce. I swept the crap on the floor into organised piles of crap to be hoovered tomorrow with the rest of the house. Then when Father came home, I finished his dinner. Then when I was sure I'd earned my keep for the day, I sat down to play DMO, feeling like I'd earned it. But no sooner did I obtain a remotely playable frame rate (I call this the startup hour, where my computer crashes many times before I can do anything fun), then my brother got home, asking to use the bandwidth to play his Xbox. I obliged because, hey, I'm only here for another 13 days before I escape back to Exeter! However, the whole experience left me feeling miserable. I'd devoted my whole day to making life better for the rest of the family, and as soon as I was free to do as I pleased, what I pleased, at that time, would be disruptive to a family member.
So was it worth it? Did the feeling of doing something good for others outweigh the hurt of these good deeds causing good things for myself to be impossible? A decidedly selfish version of me would say no, I'd much rather have a pleasurable day rather than do things no one notices, but I don't want to be selfish. If it means even one job less for Mother and Father to do, and one less reason for William to bite my head off whenever we are in the same room, then it is worth doing. Father may still complain about the things I do fuck up, and Mother may somehow find another task to miss Corrie for, no matter how much she wants to watch it, and William may just like to bully his younger sibling, but at least I can be sure I deserve to be living here. Plus, rather selfishly, it makes me feel good to have helped.
I digress once more. Ultimately, I find myself wondering whether, in the outside world, people perform selfless acts as currency to receive another? Or to shield themselves from the accusations I've left myself vulnerable to. I for one do selfless things when I'm in a position to, and when someone needs it. And much of the time, it just doesn't occur to me that people need help - I assume that everyone does as I do, making their own lives easy and happy. I guess it's not a good way to think. Maybe I should assume that there is always something I can do? Another experiment to try, I guess.
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