Histrionic Personality Disorder:the neighbours from Hell

I usually take a taxi to the hospital-public transport is still not a viable alternative, even after 82 weeks. Yesterday's driver was English, so we could actually speak and understand each other (sometimes I get someone who doesn't speak the language, so the ride is very silent!!). When the driver is a talkative one (and, happily, many are, so the time passes more quickly), we spend the 45 minutes putting the world to rights. Oh, if we only ran this country, it would be so different!!!!! LOL!!!

Yesterday, my driver was telling me about his noisy neighbour from Hell (or, neighbor, depending on where you are when you are reading this). He has someone who spends half the night playing something that passes for music (maybe to him), and no matter how many times everyone complains, he refuses to turn his stereo down. My upstairs neighbour hammers, drills, moves furniture, and generally is a pain in the backside-he does this at 3am. Same problem: I ask him to have some consideration, but he is a moron. This is the reason I will never live in a place with people upstairs again. Not unless guns become legal.

So, while I was waiting to have my blood drawn (full blood count. They keep taking my blood and then wondering why I am anemic. Well, for God's sake: it's because they keep taking my blood. Isn't that a no-brainer!!!), I got to thinking about neighbours. We all have them-and some of the stories I've heard are much worse than mine, so I should be grateful. I'm not-but I suppose I should be!!

I read about something called Histrionic Personality Disorder. No, I don't have it (hypochondria has never been one of my personality traits), but it occurred to me while I was reading this that I know people who fit the bill perfectly: Carol and Rachel, the two people I mentioned in a previous post.

Now: this disorder is characteristic of drama queens, people who are so self-obsessed that all they can think about or talk about is "me, me, me" and "my past/history/victimhood". They act like they think they are the world's best at everything, that they know everything about everything, and whatever you say or do, they trump you in every way. After awhile (usually a very SHORT while), you just want to give them a good beating, so you have to walk (sometimes run) as far as you can-in the opposite direction.

Carol was the first person I met when I moved into this property last year. She lives just across the road. She is profoundly deaf, so she shouts. Very disconcerting!! And very embarrassing, too, because she had cancer surgery five years ago and is incontinent after the chemotherapy. She told me this within five minutes of meeting me. So-I didn't know anyone in this area, and I went out for a coffee a few times. Eeek!! She needs the loo very often, and she will just stand up in the middle of a pub or a cafe and shout to the staff that she needs to use the loo because she is incontinent due to cancer treatment. Imagine: I wanted to run and hide. Discreet? Carol? Not in the slightest.

I could go on and on-because for several months her antics were mildly entertaining. It was all about her, and her history of child abuse, and her history of dyslexia, and childhood poverty-and, oh, yes, by the way, she was a lesbian for 25 years but is now-as she puts it-neutral. She also goes off in public when she sees something in a shop that she doesn't like. She goes off at anyone and everyone, and at top volume. And when she asked whether I still wanted to be with a man, I realized that something was definitely up somewhere. Was she grooming me for something? Good grief, what a nauseating idea!! I said yes, I like men, and I am not gay and have never been gay. Since then her attitude changed-and I decided to be very, very busy.

Rachel, too, seems to fit the histrionic profile, but not nearly as much or as perfectly as Carol. Rachel has this awful nervous laugh, and will not talk about anything but her work (she is a hospice nurse), her cats, and how she has felt since becoming a Christian. And Rachel says the most appalling things-really nasty things-with a laugh, and by looking away. Well, it is hard to tell when she is looking at you, because one eye points one way, and the other eye points the other way. Really!

I wonder how I attract these mad people!! If I go the New Age route, or the psychobabble route, I'll be told that my energy attracts these people-or that something in me resonates with something in them-or some such crap. Who knows? Whatever.

I now stay as far away from them as I can. The last time I saw Carol, she told me that she watches me from her window and has noticed that  I am walking better. Scary, or what? A stalker. Yuck.

I'm pondering what the common traits are, if we have any. So that has been a valuable experience for me-one that I never want to repeat!!

I am walking better-and it took me 82 weeks to get this far. If I see either of them coming my way, I will see how well I can sprint-in the opposite direction!!

The most interesting thing about the Carol and Rachel story (which I have greatly abbreviated for this post) is the fact that my curiosity is beginning to return. So, perhaps, I am on the mend, however slowly. I find human behavour endlessly fascinating-I always have enjoyed observing, and listening, and trying to figure out what makes people tick, and why they do the things they do. My curiosity disappeared 18 months ago- as did my powers of observation - and they are beginning to resurface. That's a good thing.

Normal people in my life, please!!!