The Male Psyche: Trying To Not Be a Dick

This entry is part 3 of 21 in the series: Bert's Eye View

So, after some serious introspection, I’m beginning to figure out a few things about myself that I need to work on.

I have a tendency to avoid dealing with things that are bothering me. I let things build and build until I lose it and turn into a total dick, triggered finally by a trivial event, and I then blow up. It’s like a pressure cooker where the lid blows off.

Now, I’m not speaking for all men here, but I get the feeling this is a frequent trait of the male gender and here is why … Men are raised and somewhat pre-wired not to show too much emotion. It’s not like we can just go in a room and have a good cry–which I’m sure is a great pressure-release valve. Personally, I’m just not wired that way. The only way I am comfortable having a cry is in private. Death does that to me. Nothing else.

Most women have the ability to let things go a bit before the explosion occurs. Some cry, some vent, some don’t, and do not cross a woman who does not cry. You are in for a world of hurt. A major verbal ass-whuppin’ is coming. Count on it.

I’m just not that rational. I can behave like a total asshole. But, to my credit, I only expose this endearing trait to the people I’m closest to. They are strong, and subconsciously, I know they won’t put up with a minute of my shit. This is my way of intellectually duking it out. Thus far, I haven’t lost a friend permanently. But, I have really pissed some people off. Eventually, they will remember good times and that I am a loyal friend. I think they tell themselves that I am an asshole, but I’m their asshole. I need to work on this.

Maybe more time at the gym on the weights? A lot more sex would help for sure, but realistically, I know that I’m not a real treat to be around. I just can’t be bothered with the whole peacock mating ritual thing. I’m becoming more introverted as I get older. Big crowds creep me out. I tend to be a bit jaded. A definite handicap. Maybe take up boxing again, but that shit hurts. Maybe work on becoming more of a romantic, but I think that for now at least, that ship has sailed.

My personal issue is my unknown future. Midlife crisis (if I were going to live past 100, which is not going to happen unless cloning is perfected). I am at a juncture in my life where I need to know what my next thing is going to be. I’m at a bit of a disadvantage because if what I do is not what a lot of people would consider a little bit crazy, I know I’ll get bored, and it won’t last. I could probably be diagnosed with some bullshit designer condition like ADD or ADHD. If I am not seriously stimulated, it ain’t happening.

I have options and irons in the fire. But, they all have a definite element of risk (or everybody would be doing it).

I was told by a very wise friend that I need to analyze what is really bothering me before I react.

Well, in closing, it’s important to keep it together. I don’t care how old you are, never stop looking at yourself and allow your ego to make changes. And, really, try not to be a dick …

 
Photo Credit: Misha Sokolnikov via Compfight cc








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Bert Woodson

Bert Woodson currently lives on Florida’s Gulf Coast in Cortez, with his Rhodesian Ridgeback, Colt, and Colt’s kitty Woof. (Yes, he named him.)

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