There MUST Be a Cure for This

I have a serious illness: Sarcastic Foot in the Mouth disease.

It seems that most people naturally have what is called a “stopper” in their brains.  This physical component stops words and/or sentences from coming out that could be taken the wrong way. It also allows a person to think things through carefully before they say something they might be embarrassed about later.  It also reminds them that not everyone appreciates OR understands sarcasm.

Unfortunately, I was born without a “stopper” in it.  This genetic deformity affects 1% of the population, making it rare and deadly.  A baby develops it during the 2nd trimester when the mother overdoses on TV comedies or is around second-hand teenage sarcasm.

When I was little, my parents tried everything to cure my disease. They would say things like “think before you speak,” and “remember to not say things that could be hurtful.”  I would carefully process these directions; but, the next day, I would inevitably say something followed by turning red, apologizing profusely, and thinking about it incessantly all night long.

I believe it has gotten better now that I am an adult.  I usually only say things 2-5 times a week that cause horrible discomfort in the evening.

The big problem is, I often don’t recognize the problem.  I process things this way “wow, this could turn into a serious conversation unless I say [whatever pops into my head] immediately.” With most of my friends, they laugh at my silliness and we can all move on.  There are some people, though, that look at me like I am the craziest person on the planet and think thoughts like, “who says that?”

Me.  That’s who.

Some examples include, well-placed miscarriage jokes/sarcasm: “The next time I get pregnant, I will be taking bets on how long it lasts,” or, when asked if we will be having more children, “Oh sure I’ll get pregnant! It’s much easier to have more kids when I know I won’t actually be having more kids;” telling people how I beat my children into submission by saying things like “if you scream at me one more time, I will smother you with kisses;” finally, I push my atheism on people by reminding them they don’t need religion because I AM perfect; thus, if they emulate MY behaviours, they will be good in the next life.

See?  I’m a goner.

I have talked with numerous doctors.  They say there are only two options for cases like mine: immediately start taking an anti-sarcasm pill or go through intense electric shock therapy to re-wire my brain to THINK before it speaks.

As both of these will require a great deal of sacrifice on my part, I think I will forego both options and relegate myself to a life full of sarcasm and a mouth consistently occupied by a foot.

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5 Comments

Filed under mental illness

5 responses to “There MUST Be a Cure for This

  1. No way? You don’t have a filter? That’s shocking! 🙂

    It’s what we love about you!

  2. Ugh! I hear you! I have had this problem all my life, saying very uncomfortable things to get out of conversations, or sarcastic things to defend or make my point. Good news is, I’ve found I have less and less of a need to say crazy stuff the more comfortable I am with just being me. (Also, my counsellor told me that it is very normal to joke about things that cause pain in your life that you may not be ready to fully acknowledge yet. For example, I used to joke all the time about being bisexual (“If I hadn’t been so sheltered as a kid I would have grown up to be the goth bisexual”) Once I actually started being OK with that part of myself I didn’t need to joke about it anymore. Not sure if I’m making sense, but I just thought I throw that out there, as I’ve gotten more OK with me, I’ve been losing this tendancy. (with the exception of being around people who treat me like I’m not OK, still working on that.)

  3. Looks like we got our own One Percent Club….I am so bad that Husband uses the term “dog on hind leg moment” to describe situations where one has said something one truly, truly should not have.

    e.g. when the Executive Vice President In Charge Of My Career visits and I respond to an incredibly relevant comment with a mortifying amount of aplomb, “the safest way to break up a dog fight is to grab both animals by their hind legs.”

    Yes, that happened.

  4. Janae

    I’ve got the same problem! I never think before I speak, this has also gotten me into many a messy place with ward members, family just to name a few. But those that love me tolerate me and my lack of tack. I inherited it from my dad, so truly it’s not my fault! Hope all continues well with family and work, don’t worry it’s a constant juggling act unfortunately I have few moments of feeling like I’m in control but such is life-I think it would be the same if I stayed at home. Just remember to never take anything to seriously especially religion! Love ya!