In case you don't remember, George Sodini is the name of the man who went to a gym, crashed a class, turned off the lights, took out some guns and riddled the place with bullets. Three women eventually died. After Sodini was done, he put a bullet in his head.
When authorities went through his things, they found a website and some writings detailing his anger with just about everybody. In particular, he was pissed off that he wasn't getting laid despite being what he felt was the perfect guy.
When I heard this, I thought, "Oh shit." And I read more about his published thoughts. This Sodini guy hated his father; I hate my father. Sodini was particularly angry at his mom; I hold nascent animosity towards my mom. He couldn't get fucked; I can't get fucked.
Worst of all is the profile described by a shrink about Sodini in this article:
"These guys are very narcissistically sensitive, meaning that the kind of insult or slight that you or I would just fluff off, these guys will ruminate and think about it and do that for long periods of time," [Dr. J. Reid] Meloy said.
Oh-oh. That describes me to a T. I actually think that I have a right to maintain a grudge against all those who insult me, but maybe that's his point. Do other people just let catty remarks and slights go in one ear and out the other? How do they do that? Am I really narcissistically sensitive? And if I am, does that point me down a path of loneliness, bitterness, allegations, misogyny and, finally, murder?
I hope not. But who wins when hope runs into logic?
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