I really prefer being able to identify the person screwing up as a person not me
New personal rule: Don't try to talk about anything with anyone except close friends while unmedicated, because apparently, a comment I made this morning before I took my meds was really thoroughly upsetting to the person I was addressing.
This... is not a fun feeling.
And the thing is, I can place where I went wrong - because normally I don't have this problem. I communicate clearly enough that it doesn't happen, that I'm capable of conveying what I mean without leaving openings for my words to be so easily misinterpreted. (And looking over what I wrote, I see where, to someone who doesn't know me, it seems the way they took it.)
So where I went wrong was in responding to something when I hadn't taken my medication yet.
Believe me, resisting the urge to say, I'm sorry, I have a disability that caused me to do this wrong thing, please let me try again... was hard. Accepting that this person has asked me to get out of their space and respecting that rather than answering, trying to justify myself... was hard. (I sent a private apology, and didn't try to justify myself in that, I hope. I accept that I communicated badly, because, clearly, my intentions did not match up to the effect of my words.)
Because a disability is not a free pass. My mistake, I think, was one of managing my disability; I'm still adjusting to what it means, to controlling the interplay of my problems that affect the functioning of my mind.
I'm trying to tell myself that sometimes we make mistakes, that mistakes are something to learn from - that's what my psychologist says, and I'm working on learning that it's okay for me to be imperfect.
But that's hard when my mistakes hurt people. And while I want disability to be an excuse, I don't feel comfortable claiming it as one.
Net result of all this: I hate myself and I want to die, basically. Because clearly, fucking up like this means I don't deserve to live, right? (I'm actually not exaggerating, here. Suicidal impulses have not been rare for me in the last couple of weeks.) I am persuading myself to sit and work on my essay and not over-react.
People make mistakes. I am human, I make mistakes, and sometimes I will say things that will be taken the wrong way, and sometimes that will upset people, and if they don't want to let me explain what I meant, then that is their right and choice. It doesn't make me a bad person.
Perhaps if I tell myself that often enough I'll even believe it.
(Note: Not linking, in part, because what I said, and what they said in reply, is not the issue. It's not about whether what I said can be interpreted in a way that doesn't make me look like an asshole; the interpretation that I am an asshole is a valid reading of what I said, and I have no-one but myself to blame for that. This is just a reflection on how recognising that fact still really fucking sucks, how this is a clear sign that today I mismanaged my disabilities, how I was wrong.)
This... is not a fun feeling.
And the thing is, I can place where I went wrong - because normally I don't have this problem. I communicate clearly enough that it doesn't happen, that I'm capable of conveying what I mean without leaving openings for my words to be so easily misinterpreted. (And looking over what I wrote, I see where, to someone who doesn't know me, it seems the way they took it.)
So where I went wrong was in responding to something when I hadn't taken my medication yet.
Believe me, resisting the urge to say, I'm sorry, I have a disability that caused me to do this wrong thing, please let me try again... was hard. Accepting that this person has asked me to get out of their space and respecting that rather than answering, trying to justify myself... was hard. (I sent a private apology, and didn't try to justify myself in that, I hope. I accept that I communicated badly, because, clearly, my intentions did not match up to the effect of my words.)
Because a disability is not a free pass. My mistake, I think, was one of managing my disability; I'm still adjusting to what it means, to controlling the interplay of my problems that affect the functioning of my mind.
I'm trying to tell myself that sometimes we make mistakes, that mistakes are something to learn from - that's what my psychologist says, and I'm working on learning that it's okay for me to be imperfect.
But that's hard when my mistakes hurt people. And while I want disability to be an excuse, I don't feel comfortable claiming it as one.
Net result of all this: I hate myself and I want to die, basically. Because clearly, fucking up like this means I don't deserve to live, right? (I'm actually not exaggerating, here. Suicidal impulses have not been rare for me in the last couple of weeks.) I am persuading myself to sit and work on my essay and not over-react.
People make mistakes. I am human, I make mistakes, and sometimes I will say things that will be taken the wrong way, and sometimes that will upset people, and if they don't want to let me explain what I meant, then that is their right and choice. It doesn't make me a bad person.
Perhaps if I tell myself that often enough I'll even believe it.
(Note: Not linking, in part, because what I said, and what they said in reply, is not the issue. It's not about whether what I said can be interpreted in a way that doesn't make me look like an asshole; the interpretation that I am an asshole is a valid reading of what I said, and I have no-one but myself to blame for that. This is just a reflection on how recognising that fact still really fucking sucks, how this is a clear sign that today I mismanaged my disabilities, how I was wrong.)
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Freaking scary. It's made me really paranoid about who I speak to and on what subjects, which makes me sad because as you may have notice I really like talking :/
Anyway, if I deserve to live (and I think we can agree I do) then so do you :P Think of all the people who screw up and don't apologise when it's pointed out to them who don't have illness as an excuse. We're better than them! (And they deserve to live too)
The responsibilities of people with cognitive difficulties is something I've been pondering recently. Because we do deserve to have a chance to talk and engage, but we also have to be mindful of our effect on other people. I think it should be possible to create some sort of compromise.
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On the other hand, they can't do that if they don't know, for one thing, and for another... I kind of expect a sort of prejudice about it. Like, if I set up a standard disclaimer that I have cognitive problems, and if something comes across offensively I probably didn't mean it, so please say what bothers you and ask me to clarify before you get angry... I fear people will perceive that as me wanting a free pass on being able to say problematic things.
I really don't know how to deal with this.
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I think I should take on your approach, really. (Which would include, you know, actually loading more icons on DWth than my Tendou icon, since it looks like I'm not just using this as a ficjournal after all - it's my safe journal, for troll avoidance, as well.)
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Which I have not brought up with the person in question, because it's not a line of discussion I can see going anywhere fruitful, but it's irksome indeed. I will cop to being criticised where it's justified, but the discussion wasn't about race, I made no mention of anything even vaguely related to race... So that part, I don't accept.
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Because something I took a long time to get my head around but now find oddly comforting which may or may not be relevant:
From a stranger's POV I am indistinguishable from a clever troll saying the same words. So if they think the worst of me it's not an insult to me, Sophie, the complex 3D individual who deserves the benefit of the doubt because of all the awesome things I have done and said, it's an insult to some random stranger on the internet of whom they know very little. And I've seen enough people start off sounding very much like me then go on to turn out to be racist/sexist etc trolls/idiots etc that I have a moderate amount of sympathy for people thinking the worst of this random stranger "sqbr".
The archetypical example of this was once when I made some remark about the differences in how racism works in Australia and America and someone replied with "Racism exists on a global level *insert link*". I got very offended because, hello, I never said it didn't! My very premise assumed that Australia is racist! But then I noticed that EVERY OTHER TIME I saw a white person talk about "the differences in how racism works in Australia and America" their eventual conclusion was "..and so Australia is not as racist as America", often with the subtext that we're not really racist at all.
Every. Single. Time.
And so I now understand that if that single remark was all you knew about me, it WAS fair to assume I was probably trying to deny that racism exists in Australia, even though that's not what I said or what I believe. (Of course this does mean I've been putting off talking about the subject until I feel I can express it just right)
Unfortunately once someone has interpreted your words that way it's hard to change their mind without sounding defensive, I usually make an apology for the perceived sentiments then make a dignified retreat to try and figure out how to avoid the situation in future.
Anyway, whether or not that's what happened it's never pleasant to have people think the worst of you, so I can see how that would make the whole thing nastier for you.