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Okay, here’s a radical thought that has actually helped me overcome this attitude:
Who the fuck do you think you are to discard everyone else’s opinions like that?
Maybe give the people who love and support you a little more credit?
For me it was my therapist going “you think all those people are lying to you just to be polite?”
Why yes, I do think that, but when you put it that way it makes me feel stupid for thinking that.
I lie to people just to be polite. But I don’t lie to my friends. But what if they aren’t actually my friends and they talk to me just to be polite? But…
It’s a spiral that probably won’t end until I’m alone
For me it was realizing I’m “just” OK.
I’m not special in any way. Neither am I a particularly bad person nor am I a particularly good person. And being OK is honestly enough as there is no obligation to do good – you are only obligated to not do harm.
There’s a lot of room for me to be a better person but so is there to be a worse one.
The social variant of impostor syndrome
For me personally, I consider this a side effect of being raised by a fundamentalist Christian sect. Turns out you internalize it when a ton of authority figures in your life tell you that you’re fundamentally evil and deserve to burn in hell! (This had nothing to do with me personally, all congregants heard it)
Well, hell must be pretty great if all the cool people all the scientists and half the engineers go there. With all that free geothermal energy? I bet it’s a paradise by now.
For me it was the musicians. Wasn’t the key thing that broke me out of the Christian Guilt Cycle, but hearing “the best musicians go to Hell” was a nice, extra wedge.
Like, really, you think I wanna miss the greatest show that could ever be to go play a fucking harp on some cloud? Fuck that.
Well they have like… Maybe Bach? He’s pretty good. But about half the stuff attributed to him is actually by his wife, and she’s in hell, so…
“Listen," said Crowley desperately, “how many musicians do you think your side have got, eh? First grade, I mean.”
Aziraphale looked taken aback.
“Well, I should think-” he began.
“Two,” said Crowley. “Elgar and Liszt. That’s all. We’ve got the rest. Beethoven, Brahms, all the Bachs, Mozart, the lot. Can you imagine eternity with Elgar?”about half the stuff attributed to him is actually by his wife
sauce?
Some shit I heard like fifteen years ago, but apparently he wasn’t even being a dick? People just went through and found originals of stuff attributed to him,and its got her name on it; which isn’t strange, I guess she was also a pretty well known musician at the time.
The archive erased a bitch.
Literally me. “You just don’t actually know me. I’m really just true shit underneath!”
Don’t worry they don’t really think you’re nice they are just being polite.
Nah, most people saw right through that and turned tail.
You might not be nice, but then at least be kind.
