So, for those who haven’t figured it out yet, I am full of myself.
Yeah, yeah, I know, being full of yourself is supposed to be a bad thing. In my case, I’m not thinking that’s the case.
You see, like many folks in a situation of the same sort as myself, I’ve had to fight pretty damned hard to get full of myself, as for a large chunk of my life I was full of other people.
And being full of other people can suck — you run around spending all your time and energy o trying to be what they want you to be, trying to do what they want you to do, trying to say what they want you to say, to sound the way they sound, to act the way they act, and so forth.
It starts out small, and there is usually a desperately sought reward, and then it just grows from there, until it engulfs you so deeply, so thoroughly, that it takes something rather enormous to shock you out of it, to make you do something about it.
Some folks have a lower tolerance for this being full of other people. THey may only get a tenth full, and then say “fuck this.”
And that’s important to note, because this can start *early*. Like, before most people have functional memories early. And when I say that, I should point out that most people don’t remember much before about 5.
But for folks like me, it just kept piling up and piling up and compressing more until it was pretty solidly in place and that takes a significant shake up to start dumping all of it.
It also leaves you deeply unsettled, this not being full of yourself. It affects pretty much everything you do, and while it isn’t always entirely bad, it certainly isn’t mostly for the better.
Once the shake up happens and you start to do something about, one of the things you have to do is empty yourself of one thing while filling your self up with another.
Pretty much at the same time. And if you don’t think that sounds very hard, I have a real world experiment for you to try.
Get a used milk jug. Fill it with water. Put some color in that water.
Now, try to fill the jug with clear water at the same time you empty the color water out.
Go ahead, I’ll still be here.
It can be done, but it takes a lot of thought, a lot of patience, and hell of a lot of time unless you decide to just break the container. You know, like by cutting a hole out of it in the bottom. But then you have to fix that hole. Fixing holes in people is not even close to as easy as fixing a hole in a milk jug.
So it isn’t a good idea to cut a hole in yourself. Besides, anyone with a complicated love life that hasn’t got anything to do with transness can tell you that it gets done enough to anyone as it is.
Now, when someone goes to a lot of work, when someone spends a lot of time and energy and effort on doing something, they usually have at least some pride in what they accomplish. Usually.
And when it comes to this thing, a thing where you have to take a good, hard, honest look at yourself, and see all your faults and flaws, your weaknesses and insecurities, as well as all your strengths and skills, your blessings and benefits, and then work on all of them, take all of them develop them out, cast aside things which can hurt you and make peace with some things that simply won’t ever go away because you still and always have to pick your battles, you can be fairly expected to be full of yourself.
So when people say to me that I am full of myself, I sorta smile wryly, because in the end, it is true — and I went to a lot of trouble to get that way.
I’ve always been arrogant and outspoken, but I wasn’t always arrogant and outspoken in the way I am now, the way I am here.
My arrogance is such because I am not going to be quiet and I am not going to back down just because someone doesn’t like what I have to say. And especially not when people call me an arrogant fucker, because, well, that’s like the stupidest fucking thing ever to say to an arrogant fucker when you really stop to think about it.
And, being a pedantic little cuss, I do really stop to think about it. A lot. Often. Like I stop to think about everything that catches my mind’s eye. Which, on any given day, is a crapload of stuff, only about 10% of which actually has anything to do with transness.
That wasn’t always the case. For a long time, about 80-% of it was about transness and all the things that surround it. That’s part of why one of my favorite detractors labeled me the Oz of Transgender, lol.
I really like that title. There are so many different levels of humor in it. I am well aware that it was meant as an insult, but, hey, you know, being said to be full of myself is also meant to be an insult.
Now, this isn’t rewriting reality, by any stretch of the imagination. This is simply really sitting down for a few moments and giving some more tha typical thought to an idea — the idea that is expressed by the phrase “full of yourself”.
It is used to indicate an egocentric outlook, a focus on self and person, a lack of interest in other people and other things, an inordinate amount of hubris.
Now, being full of myself in a literal sense like I described above, that doesn’t quite work very well. Yes, I have an ego. Everyone does. IT sorta comes along with a brain and sense of self, and it has this bad habit of whispering at you all the time in order to make itself ore than it is. Whichis why I note that mine is galactic in size.
My ego has managed to get so large, that it no longer has any substance — it is as vaporous and insubstantial as the air around us, yet it is also strong and not really all that subject to the concerns of things that exist on a scale so small in relation to it that it isn’t concerned. My ego might be troubled by a deity.
Might. And even then, its questionable.
SO if my ego is that huge and all that, what the hell does my ego care about some infinitesimally insignificant thing trying to tell it about itself?
My ego is egocentric. I’m not. Indeed, if there was ever evidence of such, it would be the fact that I spent so much time being involved in something other than myself that I sorta forgot to take care of myself in the process.
Ok, not sorta. Nor would forget really apply — it was more like a complete absence of attention and distraction.
And that’s part of the fascinating thing that happens when people go after each other on the internet and start trying to describe aspects of that person’s life offline.
And with me, and my willingness to get into those flamewars (wtf am I doing when I do that? I know better…), for some reason, people do that all the time.
This is what it means to be accused of eating babies. Of being the sor tof person who actively plans and carries out the murder of human beings in a sequential fashion. Of being the sort who does nothing at all.
And all of that is stuff that is said about me regularly — yet most folks who read what I talk about know I am really usually involved in some act of resistance to oppression in all its forms, in some effort to stop people from being assholes to trans people.
In real, practical, pragmatic ways that involve a hell of a lot more nuance and subtlety that one is going to have to deal with online, where subtlety and nuance are pretty much tossed out the window.
It is also something one is going to forget when you go after me just because of this blog. I’ll grant that prior to May of 2011 this blog was a pretty big part of my life. These days, and since that time, it isn’t — it is a place where I spend time when time is available to me, and that means it maybe has about 4 hours a week, unless its a really good week for thoughts. THen it might climb to about 8.
That’s less than 10% of my time. And this blog is, after all, titled Dyssonance, and that’s me, and so it is going to be expected, when it comes right down to it, that the blog is going to tend to revolve and circle around me as a person.
So yeah, I am full of myself. And while there might be a few things I don’t like about myself, theyaren’t as important or as visible and critical as the things that I do like about myself.
And there are a lot of things I do like about myself. After all, I have the pleasure of having taken the time to fill myself up with those things.
And that’s why I am so full of myself…