Bionic Reading: The Gobshite Meter

Bare with me on this one.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realised I possess what I like to call The Gobshite Meter.

Now, maybe everyone has one of these lurking inside them, but mine? Mine is never wrong.
There’s definitely some science to it (being neurodivergent and all), but honestly, I’m kind of proud of how bang-on my Gobshite Meter is. I’m like a human lie detector for knobheads. I pick up on tone, body language, micro-expressions… you name it, even though people love to tell me I’m imagining it. Spoiler alert: I’m not.

But here’s the kicker.

Just because I have the Gobshite Meter doesn’t mean I use it properly. Oh no. I can clock a gobshite in two seconds flat and still convince myself I can “fix” them. Newsflash: I cannot. (Turns out gobshites don’t come with a returns policy.)

My life has been like a never-ending parade of gobshites, marching left, right and centre. My Meter goes off daily, like some kind of internal car alarm. Does it stop me trying to befriend or even date these people? Does it fuck. I’m forever too nice to the ones who don’t deserve it, and not nice enough to the ones who actually do.

Now you’re probably wondering: Does your Gobshite Meter work on yourself?

Again, does it fuck.

I can be the biggest gobshite going and not realise until a full day later, and for my fellow neurodivergent folks, you know that “day later” feeling makes you want to curl up into a ball and evaporate. Sadly, I never hear my own tone, so I come across as blunt. People closest to me sometimes think I’m a bit of a bitch but really, it’s just my messy, unique, slightly chaotic brain doing its thing.

So here’s my goal for the next few months:

Trust my gut. Trust that Gobshite Meter whenever the alarm starts blaring. Stop trying to fix people!

If you’re reading this and you suspect you have a good Gobshite Meter buried somewhere inside you, I highly recommend actually listening to it. Being too nice to people who don’t deserve it? Not our business.