For those of you who don’t know, the term misanthropic describes someone who distrusts humankind and tries to avoid human society – depending on the source of reference. I recently learned this term and found it comforting.
I’m introverted, laconic, type C personality, number 4 according to the Enneagram diagram: these, labels, fall short when trying to self-identify with a view point about people.
I like people, I wish them nothing but the best, to be happy, healthy, and have literally risked my life for complete stranger (five years as a firefighter/EMT), so when I say I identify with being a misanthrope, I do not mean I hate humankind, hell, I’m human. But I have to admit, I feel a lot better, happier, when alone.
The more I take notice, intently observe my own species, people seem to be mutating into egotistic locusts obsessed with owning as many malarial goods as their credit card limit will allow, concerned more about their perceived order in the societal hierarchy than the wellbeing of others. I have seen people mob an unconscious person ejected from a car, taking photos, talking about the twisted metal heap she was thrown from as if were a masterful sculpture while the women lays in the medium, gasping.
I get it, if you don’t have medical training, and have never seen someone in that sort of mangled state, you would be reluctant to touch them. Medically, it could cause further harm. So yeah, I complexly understand the hesitation. But even wild dogs will lick a mortally wounded pack members paw for comfort. And it’s tiny incidents, less dramatic, that have accumulated and solidified my aversion.
In contrast, when having a one-on-one discussion with someone, most, if not all, are thoughtful, sensitive to those around them. There’s just something unappealing when people group together. I think most lose their individuality and mimic the loudest, over opinionated person in the group – who is likely the worst to emulate.
As a writer, being misanthropic is a benefit. Staying home to write is easier when you dislike being around strange masses. This is not the only template, or even the best, but extroverts who desire unintelligent conversation about advertisements spliced with TV shows, reading about how disgusted a friend is with a lemon, sesame seed muffin from Starbucks through a Facebook post, or become anxious without their phone within reach, are less likely to sit in seclusion for hours, typing.