Grumpy and the other six

“You’re just grumpy.”

I’ve always been described as grumpy but depression hasn’t made this any less apparent. If anything, it’s gotten worse. I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not exactly happy-go-lucky. If I were to count, there are way, way more things that I hate than I like.

I don’t like things most people tend to like. I hate parties, concerts and clubs. When people are letting their hair down and playing games for example, I have zero problem ruining the mood. It’s not like I’m rude about it but if I don’t want to do something, no amount of social pressure will persuade me to do otherwise.

“Oh go on, you might enjoy it!” a person trying to get me to try climbing, cold water swimming or a bungee jump says.

No I won’t.

It’s difficult to examine yourself this way, to me that’s the only way to be. Other people have told me plenty of times that I’m grumpy so I’ll believe them. I’m most definitely not a people person. Some people seem to have a spring in their step, sun on their face and little birds chirping around them wherever they go.

As pleasant as these people are, they exhaust me in the first ten minutes. In my case, the birds have been replaced by a pack of vultures. I don’t consider grumpiness a negative trait. I believe in balance, and it would be boring if everyone were the same. That’s why I always ignore suggestions to get me ‘out of my shell.’ There is no shell. It’s just how I am.

That’s partially why I became a journalist, I think. I’ve always been a bit of an observer in life. I prefer watching from the sidelines rather than being at the centre of attention. I also have to take everything I see and hear with a pinch of salt. My personality provides that naturally.

It’s funny in a way because I share a lot of my private thoughts, experiences and emotions with a group of total strangers right now but I’ve always found writing different. It comes from a place of solitude where I’ve had time to formulate my thoughts. Talking to others face to face takes away a part of my sense of security.

It seems to be less acceptable for a woman to be grumpy. Mr Darcy has everyone’s knickers dropping hundreds of years later but had he been a woman, I bet she would’ve been branded a miserable bitch and died a spinster.

It’s also that teen fiction idea of a manic pixie girl who needs to be saved from herself. Guys tend to think that I’m grumpy because I haven’t met the right man or that I’m so deeply unhappy, and their mere presence is going to fix me. They belittle what I consider to be a natural characteristic and don’t take me seriously.

I don’t know what’s up with it, do they think that I’m just playing or exaggerating because I have such a bad self esteem. Fuck knows. In any case, I try to be honest, saying that I don’t like many things but they never believe at first.

‘Oh come on, I’m sure you’re not that bad!’

Once they realise that I actually am, the contact ceases quickly. In reality, there’s nothing to fix. I’m naturally attracted to grumpy people. Befriending them is more of an effort but it always feels like you’ve been given something precious. I also feel privileged. This person doesn’t like many things but they like me.

I wonder why so many people are keen to change me. Why can’t I just be as I am?

Because the world isn’t for the grumpy. Society encourages you to be personable, pleasant at least on the surface and to participate. Socialise. Network. Meet with people you don’t know and talk about things like the weather and the property ladder.

I really should be better at it because how else am I going to find readers for this blog for example, but that just isn’t me. I don’t mind a nice conversation but there tends to be so much meaningless and empty pleasantry in it. I’ve gotten worse since I got ill. I almost died. I feel that given a second chance in life I just don’t have time for useless conversation. I just can’t do it.

Grumpy people tend to get patronised, as if I was a stroppy teenager with an attitude problem. I just think too much time is spent in useless chitchat talking about things that don’t really matter, so I tend to avoid it.

Other people consider my grumpiness more of a problem than I do. Just look at hedgehogs. They curl into a spiky ball when they’re uncomfortable with something but look at their gorgeous little pink feet. It’s all about balance.

Me reading this post:


  1. So ….. are you saying that you are not actually depressed but reacting perfectly normally to the world? Because this is how I feel (about myself). I can’t stand parties either – that sort of manufactured happiness terrifies me.

    I do have moments of happiness (not entire days, or anything like that) and it is during these times (and even more so after them) that I recognise happiness as a temporarily delusional state.

    Have a good look around you. What the fuck is there to be happy about?

    Happy people annoy the crap out of me. It’s not an annoyance borne of jealousy. I just think they are lazy. They haven’t been paying attention.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I don’t mind being grumpy – it’s who the hell I am, and if someone can’t cope with it, that’s their malfunction. Not everyone in this life is looking to be running around, topless, screaming “Whee”. Some of us just want to be left the hell alone.

    Once again – superbly written!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Ah Ida. Please don’t ever change. Hmm actually that isn’t worded right. By all means the Depression can get lost and leave you be. But I hope the grumpiness remains.

    There’s a whole world full of people pleasers out there. You just be you and without fail people will find your words and relate to them. Like I did. You’re honest and relatable what’s not to like about that?

    The part about if Mr Darcy had been a woman set me off laughing. So true. I think I’m going to have to screenshot that for low days.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Hahaha, no problem at all. Actually you’re not the first person to say that after reading it. No fear, I’ll still be a grumpy motherfucker if I can declare myself depression-free one day.

      That’s what I’m hoping to do, that people still find my words relatable or amusing even if they wouldn’t react to things exactly the same way I do. I just think true contentment in life comes from being comfortable in your own skin. Being accepting of yourself, grumpiness and all.

      If someone writes a version of Pride and Prejudice where Mr Darcy is a gloomy woman who still doesn’t get ostracised, I’ll read it!

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Well there is always Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. No joke it’s a book. I haven’t read it. Maybe I should.

    Thanks for reassuring me. Although somehow I don’t see you as grumpy. When you wrote about how you almost died so trivial things no longer matter… To me THAT feels like a better description than grumpy.

    Like when people call my husband grumpy and arrogant and I shrug and say nah he just doesn’t care what you think. It does feel special to be a person whose opinion matters.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I haven’t read that either! Maybe we should agree that we’re both going to read it at the same time and tell what we thought?

      Thank you for that! Yeah, I can see what you mean. It’s just difficult to find a one descriptive word for that, grumpy is a bit of an umbrella term isn’t it? Maybe I should start saying stoic.

      Your husband sounds great!

      Thank you for reading xx

      Liked by 1 person

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