You Make Me Hate Myself

84.This post is part of our advanced negativity studies curriculum. If you are not pursuing your Ph.D (Philosophy of Hateful Dystopia) in The RUNS (Risible Ultion Negativity Studies) this post may still be taken as an elective.

Perhaps it was 15 years ago, maybe more. This was back when I was still somebody and working at a real job. This was before the Decade of Despair (TM), mind you. I was doing my thing and listening to some music by Type O Negative, a band so good they even have the word “negative” in their name.

At the right moment during one of their songs Peter Steele screams out an enthusiastic, “You make me hate myself.”

My mates at work burst out laughing the first time they heard this lyrical eloquence. But if you think about it, it really is deep.

There is a lot of meaning packed in those five little words. True lyricists are artists that are, somehow, able to communicate a lot of ideas via very few words. In this case, though, how correct are those words? Let’s take a look.

The phrase starts with the word “you.” I have learned from my psychoanalyst that I’m supposed to avoid so-called “you statements.” By using the word “you” I am attempting to blame someone else for my own thoughts, feelings and behaviors. So that’s red flag number one.

The first three words, “you make me,” transfer a lot of power to that other person. They basically say that they will decide how I feel. Not me. And leaving something that important up to someone else, someone who is probably a raging, selfish asshole, is probably not the best of ideas. Why would we ever sign up for that? “Here. Take it. You are in charge of my feelings. Oh shit.”

Lastly we conclude with “hate myself.” That seems like something that only we can decide. If we blame someone else for that, even I must admit, we’re probably on the wrong track.

Me: You are offensive and rude. You make me feel angry.

Them: That’s your fault.

Ah. Here we have a devout proponent of the concept of the belief that you choose how you feel. What a nice little universe of circular justification they have invented for themselves. Since the feelings in others are solely caused by themselves, their own behavior, by definition, must be completely irrelevant. Therefore they are free to act in any way that they want since they are never the cause of your feelings. You are.

Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.
— Dalai Lama XIV

You are exactly where you want to be.

Are you happy? You chose that.

Are you sad? You chose that.

As I tried to explain to someone the other day, embracing this sort of personal responsibility for one’s own feelings can be rather … challenging. (Understatement.) Scenarios easily pop into my mind.

Day 1: Hey there, ugly fuck face!
Day 2: Hey there, ugly fuck face!
Day 3: Hey there, ugly fuck face!

Day 42: Hey there, ugly fuck face!
Response: I’ll fucking kill you!

I think of it a little like a bank. If someone makes one too many deposits, there just might be a balance that comes due. Is that immature? A failing in myself? Does that mean I’m giving someone else power over how I feel? Perhaps. But at some point they have to be responsible for at least part of their own douchebaggery, too.

Me: Hello, stranger. Welcome to my home. It is normally customary to knock before entering someone’s home, but oh well. This is what it is. You are here now. How can I help you?


Me: Well now. I see you have shot my family all dead. What an interesting turn of events. This must be one of those so-called “outside events” that may occur that I perceive to be “unpleasant.” What an interesting challenge. As an advanced life form, however, I know that I am the only one responsible for my own feelings. To become upset in a situation like this would only give you my power. So my mood remains unaffected. It is a beautiful day. I am genuinely happy.

Me: Would you like to join me for a spot of tea?

What the?

Okay, so yeah. I understand the concept. But I feel like a bit of moderation is needed here. Perhaps the truth, like in many things, lies somewhere between the two extremes?

What say you? Share your feelings in the comment section below.

3 responses

  1. Passive…meet aggressive. I hate this kind of crap. Makes me want to become a Republican and go buy a gun.

    Now see what you’ve gone a done? Man, I hate myself. This is all your fault!!!


  2. And you made me make a typo in my previous comment. Now I hate myself more and yet…still want to be your monkey slave. Does that make me a bad person?

    I trust you to be honest with me…just not gentle.

    (Too much? Nah…)


    1. I had to study your comment for eight minutes before I finally found the typo. You’re good. Wasn’t it also the Dalai Lama who said, “Happiness is a warm gun.” So I don’t think you can go wrong with your plan.

      Monkey slave? Good, good. You make me want to be a better man.

      Oops. Wait one. There are those dreaded words again. “You make me.” That sort of power transference renders the whole statement invalid. So much for being a better man. You almost tricked me, there! Ha!

      And I always try to bring the honesty. As for being gentle, did you not see how I described myself as Bambi the other day? 🙂


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