I always spill the beans. I tell everyone too much. I have begun to embrace this problem of mine in the last few years, but it still kinda bothers me that I am unable to keep my mouth shut. It’s like I am always drunk. So when I actually am drunk, there is no stopping what will come out of my mouth. One glass of wine in, and I’ll tell you about all my mental hospital stays, my overdose in College, that time I had sex with a homeless albino guy with a lazy eye, or my stint as a Madame in Elementary school when I gathered together a group of busty girls in my grade and encouraged them to go behind the bushes and show their boobs to all the boys at the playground every day until I got busted by the principal and almost suspended.
My Parents tell a lot of stories, especially my Dad. But they are both very concerned with privacy when it comes to things they are insecure about. I think most people are that way. I just, for whatever reason, turned out different. I don’t reserve certain information for certain people. Well, I don’t generally open up to people I hate. But if a person, lets say a co-worker I hated gave me a half smile and an unenthusiastic “Good Morning”, I would probably suddenly believe that they love me and want to be my best friend, so I’d go up to them and say something like, “Good Morning to you too! Hey, did you know I was raped once? Did I ever tell you that? I don’t remember it very well, but my therapist brought it out of me during one session. Its no biggie though. It helped me to become a stronger person. My Dad and my Brothers really want me to press charges against the guy, but I don’t want to because I am afraid he will get loose from jail and kidnap me and ruin my life and hurt my children or slash my tires or something. Oh look at me going on and on, what about you? Were you ever raped? Oh shit. Sorry, I shouldn’t ask you that. But really, were you? Or maybe just like a date rape type of thing? You had a boyfriend that beat you didn’t you? That is why you are so quiet. You know, they have really good recovery centers around here for that type of thing. I could get you the number to one of them, because I know those people well because I have a non-profit organization I started. Oh, its nothing big. It is mainly just a charity. It is actually a complete and total failure, and I put blood, sweat and tears into it only to go broke and realize later that you need a rich uncle to donate a shit load of money to help you run the organization because 501 C3’s don’t make any money at first. But its okay. I’m thinking about doing stand up now, so we’ll see how that goes, but wait..really, were you raped?”
That girl will never say “Good Morning” to me again.
Obviously this is not what I would really say to someone, but it is really really similar to what I do say to people I barely know all the time.
I used to be really insecure about it. Especially when I was in High School and College and I would get really drunk and tell a guy I was interested in a bunch of horrible crap that made him lose interest in me. A common occurrence would be that a friend of mine would tell me that a guy had the hots for me, and I would feel confused because I never talked to that person. I never get that. I can’t have the hots for someone that I haven’t gotten to know at least a little. There are so many guys that when you look at them you think, OHMIGOD HE IS SO HOT, but then they open their mouth and you are like OHMIGOD HE IS SO STUPID. But anyways, a friend would tell me about some secret admirer I had and I would get all excited about seeing him at a party. And in one situation, I flirted with this guy and did really well with him until I got too drunk, then I started telling him how many blow jobs I have given in public restrooms. Then I told him about my fear of retarded people and how they tackle me where ever I go and how I think they should be parented the same way dogs are. Then I asked him if queefs make your dick feel good during sex? All of my friends were laughing their asses off, but I noticed he was beginning to inch a bit away from me with every word that left my lips and he lost that sparkle in his eye. You may be thinking, WHAT? Bullshit. A guy losing interest when you talk about blow jobs and sex!!? Yes, its true. Because he was not interested in just screwing me. His eyes decided that I would be his future wife. He was so sure of it as he was getting ready to go out that night, but then I shattered his cute little retarded dreams with my mouth. And I am happy that happened, obviously, because I needed to be with someone who could handle my stories and antics and find it endearing, no matter how vulgar it gets. But at the time, I didn’t know who my future Husband would be, (luckily he totally gets me and can handle it better than anyone I know) so I felt worried, depressed, and alienated. I just didn’t understand why I had to blurt stuff out. I tried several times to act like the opposite of myself, and not say personal cringe-worthy stuff, but when I did that all my friends and family would badger me so bad saying, “What is wrong with you, you are being weird.” So I’d give in and get back to normal.
The nice thing about getting older is that you start embracing all of the stuff that you hated about your personality your whole life. I am not always 100% pleased with my TMI problem, but it seems to really entertain people, and I like entertaining people so I doubt I will ever have it under control.