I had a conversation yesterday with the male version of myself. It was like talking to my dad or my brother, and quite a painful(ly funny) reflection. I don't know what the psychology of our personality is - if it is genetic, or the result of difficult circumstances coming out sideways. And if you have an opinion, I really don't want to hear it. I am pretty sure you have your own stuff to deal with anyhow and don't have time or energy to sort mine out too.
A friend refers to it as Chronic Humor Syndrome (CHS) but I think I am going to rename it SAD (Smart Arse Disease). I can't stop. The sarcasm presses against the inside of my chest like a nasty air bubble until I open my mouth and let it out. Afterwards, I mentally perform corporal mortification of my tongue until about 2 seconds later when next the bubble rises in my throat. I am, therefore, an unwilling victim of SAD.
I don't get it, but am thankful that my husband loves me, despite my flaws, and actually enjoys my sense of humor. I know my brother's wife adores him (or at least claims to), and his sense of humor. And I feel fairly certain that the man I was trading barbs with yesterday, in some sort of sick tennis match of wit, has a wife that is head over heels with him too.
In a very rare moment of personal introspection, I can see that I'm slowly tumbling toward becoming exactly like the father I didn't appreciate or understand.