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Testing Your Personality

We test our personality all the time.

Even when we’re asleep…?

Okay, maybe not all the time. Then again, maybe sleep is a personality test.

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sleep test - close to home

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Sleep is definitely a personality test when we think about it, talk about it, fight it, worry about not getting enough of it or too much of it… compare our sleep with the sleep of others.

And if you sleep with someone else… that’s definitely a test! Sometimes it’s an endurance test.

There was a study – you know those things where people in lab coats use other people as guinea pigs to prove or disprove a theory – which claimed that sleeping with someone else increases our stress levels and has the potential to ruin a good relationship. Why It Might Be Healthier To Sleep Alone. It concluded that our intimate relationships would benefit from separate bedrooms… but then other people would judge us, our relationship, if we did that and that would stress us out, might even cause us sleepless nights.

“Oh… you and your significant other sleep in separate bedrooms…” they say without needing to say anymore than that for it to be a personality test which we’re afraid we may have failed.

If your sleeping partner snores, steals the covers, is a restless sleeper, takes up more than their share of the bed, is surfing the internet or reading or doing anything really which might disturb the quality of your sleep…

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My parents slept in separate beds, in separate bedrooms, sometimes even in separate houses in separate countries. My mother still found my father’s sleeping habits annoying and used her annoyance as a personality gauge. She was superior to him because she woke up at the crack of dawn while he usually slept late. In her personality test, he failed so that she could succeed. Yet he was more productive than she was in many ways, ways from which she benefited more so than the benefits she received from being an early bird.

She was a very angry early bird… perhaps if she’d slept late…?

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Miserable together, miserable alone… which one allows us to live longer, so we can stretch the misery out?

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Our personality is tested all the time, 24/7, by ourselves, by others, by society, the media, relationships, life, your pets… you name it, it’s testing.

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Doghouse diaries

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Sometimes we’re aware of the test, we’re on our guard, wanting to put our best face forward and hide our worst face, get the best grade we possibly can because that is what we’re trained to do, to pass tests even if passing them is not in our best interest but is in the best interest of someone else.

Sometimes we’re not aware of the test, but there is still a part of us who is observing, an examiner in a lab coat jotting down notes in a notebook, judging us from within… although we often project our internal judgments onto others and then confront them, test them because we test ourselves but find it hard to confront ourselves.

Evasive tactics ensue… another personality test begins and never really ends.

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The moment we make an identity statement, an ‘I am…’ claim… the test begins.

Are we really who we say we are? Can we prove it? Does our walk match our talk?

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“I am empathic…” we may say… then fail miserably at being empathic by not understanding any other point of view, thought or emotion, but our own yet still we cling to our identity statement and back it up with proof in the form of words…

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empathy

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And maybe it’s a good thing not to be empathic all the time, being too empathic may be too much of something… but we’re hard taskmasters, perfectionists, idealists, bitchy lab coat wearers pressuring ourselves to prove something empirically because our grant depends upon it… grey areas are black holes… especially when we’re testing ourselves.

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You’d think that with all the personality tests which we put ourselves through, which others, relationships and life puts us through, on a daily basis that we’d avoid things such as online personality tests.

But we flock to them, make them trendy and popular, make classification, labeling, judgment, something to pursue willingly, voluntarily… why?

Most of us will agree that labeling, classification, judgment is more often negative than it is positive – unless it always favours us and tells us how awesome we are, we’re going to dislike it. Yet we still like to label, classify, and judge others… we just don’t like it when others do it to us… unless it is complimentary.

Perhaps we like personality tests because we want to get to know ourselves better, improve our relationship with ourselves.

Let’s assume that’s our reason…

Do we get to know ourselves better by receiving our results from an online personality test. Results which claim to tell us, personally and individually, who we are…?

Or do we get to know ourselves better while taking the test before we find out the results?

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INTP checks

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For me personally and individually… it’s the latter, because I rarely manage to last the course of the test. And that in and of itself tells me more about myself than the results ever would or could.

When I do make it to the end of an online personality test, I’m usually not interested anymore in the results… they also tend to disappoint. Such a build up for… such a let down.

I went through all of that… through all of the repetitive questions asking the same thing in different ways with limited options as answers over and over again to find out… what exactly…? That I wasted precious time, life time, on something which told me either what I already knew or something I can’t relate to because it is too generic.

My reaction to the results… that is far more informative than the results themselves. But only if I’m paying attention to that aspect of test taking.

Your reactions… are very informative, that’s how you get to know yourself!

Those reactions are also how you get to know others, because others sometimes test you… for your reactions.

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I used to be an online personality test taker… until my curiosity was satisfied. My enthusiasm waned and I moved on… to asking myself (yet again… am I listening to myself now or do I need to test myself some more…?) – Why am I expecting someone else to tell me who I am? Shouldn’t that be something I know already… or at least something that only I can figure out for myself by getting to know myself, by asking myself questions?

After all… no one else is as interested in us as we are in ourselves… this often pisses us off… other people tend to fail our – please be as focused on me as I am on myself test. But do we pass that test or fail it?

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Just you...?

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The last online personality test which I took – Personal Intelligence – stirred my curiosity for such things again. But the test crashed when I pressed the ‘give me my results’ button. I guess it didn’t like my results, didn’t have any results for me, or was afraid of how I would react as it may have been aware of my increasingly argumentative stance about the questions… not so much the questions as the optional answers which were limiting, didn’t include what I would have actually answered if it gave me an option to give my actual input…

Or perhaps it was just a software problem… nothing to do with me at all…?

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Frantz Fanon

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Tests… are always a work in progress (just as we are)… and rely on the test creator (a person just like us) to… really know their shit and want to know the shit of others (ruh roh!). If all they are is a lad coat examiner out to prove their theory (for personal reasons… maybe inner child still fighting outer parent who has now been internalised reasons), certain things are going to get left out (what they don’t want) as those things may disprove their theory (bad thing!) and cost them the grant which they worked their bollocks off to get.

Or something like that…

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My enthusiasm for personality tests waned most quickly when I found that the test makers usually didn’t share their own results (you want to judge me… but keep yourself hidden – why?)… but surely the test makers results are pertinent to the test and to my results…?!

Don’t we all make assumptions, judgments, etc, about others based on ourselves, on our version of… how things need to be for us to come out on top and not be buried under someone else’s ‘coming out on top’ ?

Or something like that…

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Gandhi idealI’m exhausted and buried just by reading this… that exhaustion makes me want to embrace the negative.

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Or something like that. Why is ‘or something like that’ never an option in the answer section on personality tests? The closest I can get to that is ‘Sometimes’ on those tests which allow you to answer between ‘Always’ and ‘Never’.

Something like that… That’s my most overused answer for pretty much everything, yet I can always never give that answer on tests.

Things are always never black or white, they just sometimes seem like they are, or could be, but they rarely are because… humans are complex and so much more complex than the word ‘complex’.

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When taking an online personality test… if you’re doing it to get to know yourself better, find out who you are… pay attention to the conversation inside of you as you read the questions and peruse the optional answers, especially if you have to compromise your personal and individual answer to fit the test and its generalised and impersonal answers.

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Remember… you’re the best test creator for your own personality and the results you come up with… that’s you, that is!

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life sermon

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We can also ‘cheat’ on an online personality test, once we recognise its pattern, where it is leading us with its questions and limited optional answers, once we know the limits of its results and how to get them, the one we want rather than the one which we don’t want.

We can also ‘cheat’ on the tests which other people give us offline (or online) once we know them and what they want and don’t want from us. We may fail once or twice, but the third time is the charm. Next time this particular person asks us how we are… we’ll know not to tell them how we actually are. “I’m fine,” we’ll say, “how are you?” and we’ll listen with feigned interest, feigned enough for them to believe because they need to believe it… We’re all fakers in our personality test results… a bit, if we need to be to pass a test which we think we need to pass for some reason… a reason which may relate to passing one of our own personal and individual tests.

If we think we’re empathic… faking it may prove that to us.

Or something like that…

We can also cheat on the personality tests which we give ourselves… but we know we’re cheating… and why… we just sometimes don’t want to know shit about ourselves.

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Being human… or something like that.

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Or something like that… what is that something for you?

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Genie... ?my result on the Which Mythical Creature is Hidden Inside You? test… result is subject to me just clicking on an answer.

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There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.

William Shakespeare, Hamlet
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Between the Sun and the Moon

CreepyPram

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Between the Sun and the Moon

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Between silhouette and shadow

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Between father and mother

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Between child and adult

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Between past and future

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Between here and there

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Between us and them

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Between him and her

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Between hero and villain

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Between Beauty and the Beast

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Between left and right

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Between right and wrong

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Between good and bad

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Between black and white

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Between sound and silence

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Between love and hate

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Between heart and mind

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Between sane and insane

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Between order and disorder

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Between war and peace

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Between life and death

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Between rich and poor

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Between more and less

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Between everything and nothing

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Between…

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Many extremes

To be

In between

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In the between…

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Between worlds

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Between realities

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That’s where I have always been.

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Seen and unseen.

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BPD - Rebecca ColemanBPD Awareness – Rebecca Coleman

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Please Don’t Kill My Shoes!

Shoo

“Don’t kill my shoes! Please don’t kill my shoes!”

Those were the words I shouted at the salesman in the shoe shop who had just informed me that my shoes…

the ones which I had been wearing,

which had been on my feet when I walked into the store,

and which I’d only taken off momentarily to try on a new pair,

a pair which I had yet to decide to buy,

…had been taken away to be incinerated.

I was shouting because I was in distress,

my feet were in distress,

because they couldn’t find their home,

they’d only left their home for a few seconds,

distracted by a possible new home,

but just because they were distracted by a possible new home did not mean that they did not appreciate the home which they had.

Yet someone else had made a presumption,

a presumptuous presumption,

and ordered the killing of my shoes.

The culprit was not this salesman,

this salesman had only been following orders,

orders which had come from his manager,

orders which his manager had given for reasons with which he was about to be confronted.

But first I had to save my shoes,

I was not allowed to do this myself,

for safety reasons,

for reasons of a sign which claimed no customers were allowed beyond this point.

I was not an official customer since I had not bought anything yet,

I was a potential customer,

and if the manager had his way,

then I would be obliged to live up to that potential,

as surely if I no longer had shoes I would be forced to buy a new pair.

He really didn’t know me.

When I had first walked into this shop, the manger had sized me up, he had judged me based on the shoes which I was wearing which were tatty and old. He saw in me, in my feet, in my shoes, a sure sale. Obviously I was in a desperate state and people who are in a desperate state are desperate enough to part with money to buy themselves out of their desperate state.

Desperation is a pheromone which attracts predators.

He zeroed in on me like a spider to a fly caught in its web, the vibrations of my struggle thrilled his avarice.

He peppered my ears with an aggressive spiel designed to knock my shoes off,

sweep me off my feet and into a brand new pair of shoes.

However,

he made one very crucial mistake.

He really didn’t know me.

He criticised my shoes,

he tore them apart with his tongue,

and my feet were burned by the acid in his saliva.

I grabbed his tongue and cut it off.

“Do not try to convince me to buy new shoes, you can’t convince me to buy new shoes!”

His tongue wriggled in my fingers.

“I am very stubborn and nothing you can say or do will sway me to buy new shoes unless I choose to do so,

so please back off and leave me to browse, I will let you know when my browsing turns into buying.”

I waited for his tongue to stop wriggling, to stay still, then I returned it to him and turned my back on him.

Behind my back he plotted and planned,

and came up with a ploy to show me,

to show me that he could indeed convince me to buy a new pair of shoes.

He really didn’t know me.

While the salesman rushed away to save my shoes from incineration,

to unfollow the orders he had followed,

I turned with bare-footed defiance towards the manager,

who was smirking smugly at the results of his actions thus far,

licking his lips in anticipation of a win and a sure sale.

“If you think that I won’t walk out of this store in my bare feet, you, Sir, would be wrong.”

He doubted this very much.

“I actually had every intention of buying a new pair of shoes in this shop, which is why I came in here.

When I told you that you could not convince me to buy a pair of shoes, I meant it. I had already convinced myself that that was exactly what I was going to do.

You,

however,

have managed to convince me not to buy a pair of new shoes!”

And then I woke up.

“You might be poor, your shoes might be broken, but your mind is a palace.” ― Frank McCourt

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