Borderline traits.

After a long leave of absense it seemed time to put something down here.
The emptyness of my English blog and the fact that I had a good idea for a piece of writing made that I am now sitting in front of my too old computer trying to convince it to do what I want it to do instead of giving in to the urge to throw it out of the window.

Anyway, back to the actual subject of my wonderfull idea.

I am not that good at taking criticism.
Or, well, actually, I'm horrible at it.

Somehow, I would assume that, knowing I am not that equipped at handling this, the guilt and shame and irritation of not being able to handle it, would subside a litle.
However, that does not seem to be the case.

Whenever someone gives me any kind of critique I act like a toddler who's candy has just been stolen by the very mean nanny. At the moment itself I can be all grown-up and listen, use I-words and nod my head and even manage to see things from the other's point of view. But the second the conversation is over I want to cower away in a corner and cry.

The whole world is against me, they hate me, they never see the good sides in me!
Nobody ever lets me do anything and nothing I do can I ever do right...
My whole mind is filled with the most depressing thought one could think of at that moment. As if all the sad feelings I haven't had until then will have to be conjured up and make it all so much worse.

But surely, the worst part of all this would be the irritation. The anger.
That somehow feeling sad and rotten about the criticism you've just got is not enough and I need to be irritated because I hate being so torn up about the just recieved critique..

Really, life as a cat would be so much simpler...