"Hold it together, even when you feel your world unraveling, because people
don’t really care about you. They’d rather see you fail and fall to the
wayside. Don’t give ‘em the satisfaction.”
I can’t tell you how many of those speeches I’d heard over the years;
from my Mom, my friends, mentors, teachers… And for the most part, I’m glad I
was taught this mentality; it kept me from excessively wearing my feelings on
my sleeve, and helped me to be strong, even when I didn’t feel like it. There have been a few times, however, when I
wanted people to leave me alone, let me feel what I felt, and allow me to
express it the way I wanted to. Not
often, but sometimes.
There are few
times when my biggest disagreements with those close to me centered around the
fact that they took issue with the way I handled something that had happened to
me. I never allowed myself to publicly
be an emotional, blubbering mess, but during the times when I felt weaker than
others, I wanted the freedom to let off some steam, complain, whine, cry, bitch
and blubber, at least privately. And
when those closest to me wouldn’t allow that, I was furious.
In all fairness, I think my friends and family refused to allow me to give way to the full tilt of my emotion, partly because
they didn’t want me to allow that momentary weakness to overtake me. They
didn’t want me to give in to those feelings and fall completely apart. They knew somehow that I had the capacity to
hit full-blown rock bottom if I gave in too much to those raw emotions. And
they were right. For me, an unchecked
worrisome thought, a moment of untamed anger, can send me on downward spiral
that could last days, weeks, months.
Tenacious and stubborn, for me, an unharnessed feeling can lend itself to
conspiracy theories, persecution complexes, internal tantrums, and days spent
in gloomy depression.
But, because I was conditioned to present a well-groomed
front, I have played a character who looked like me, talked like me, acted like
me, yet had everything together. The
person I presented was one who was calm, mature, even-tempered and
easygoing. I came to realize that I was
only acting a role – that inside, I hated people for their inconsistencies,
ineptitude, irresponsibility, selfishness and prejudices. Poised between
realism and pessimism, I have fought to maintain a positive view of both myself
and humankind, while secretly believing the worst about both. I had hoped that people wouldn’t disappoint
me and let me down; yet each new hurtful situation wrought an “I told you so,”
from deep in my heart.
Now, I am at a different stage in my life. I still loathe inconsistencies, ineptitude,
irresponsibility, selfishness, prejudice…only I am trying not to hate the people
attached to those loathsome qualities.
After all, it’s human nature, right? Only, to be human, and be subject
to humans, yet not hate humanity and human nature is probably nothing short of
miraculous. And I’ll be honest—I don’t
know how to do that yet. After all the rigors of young adulthood that I’ve
experienced thus far, my tolerance is low for people’s lackluster
behaviors. I haven’t the patience nor
energy to try to hold on to one-sided friendships or relationships. I’m past explaining myself. I’m over the lies. I’ve had it with the selfishness and broken
promises. Yet, here I am, with a lifetime still left to live—with human beings
who are sure to act in in these less than desirable ways.
Do I have reasons to dislike people? Yep. Plenty. Does that mean that I have a right to dislike
them? Maybe—depends on how you look at
it. Are these negative feelings serving
me or my body well? Absolutely not. So,
what am I gonna do? I have no idea. None.
For nearly the past 2 years, I have been battling a
mysterious condition that has interrupted my mobility, and has, at times, made
it difficult for me to walk. Symptoms
have mirrored that of MS, lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, and many other
conditions, but tests for these diseases were negative. For almost a year and a half, I have been
frustrated, confused, afraid, and angry.
Angry at my body for being elusive and uncooperative; angry at my
insurance company for not covering the tests I needed; angry at my job for not
paying me at times; angry at my supervisor
and co-workers for spreading my private health information amongst themselves;
angry at family and friends for abandoning me when I needed them most; angry at
my neighbors for constantly knocking on my door for one thing or another, when
it was hard for me to get out of bed; angry at my property manager for not
fixing the floor in the house we were renting—which caused me numerous
slips/near falls and more pain; angry at my doctors for sending me
back-and-forth between them because no one could find the problem; angry at associates who unfriended me on Facebook,
lied on me, bullied me, all because I couldn’t do “normal” things like go to
dinner with them (how much of a jerk do you have to be to kick someone when
they’re already down??); angry at people for being insensitive and asking dumb
questions when they saw me struggling to walk; angry at people who promised to
help in one way or another, but then changed their mind and didn’t tell me;
angry at people were supposedly friends, who never called, texted or messaged
to see how I was doing…..
I guess I could write pages of offenses, reasons and instances
where people didn’t respond to my need the way I hoped they would. So, does that make me a bitter, angry
bitch? God, I hope not. But, the best way to describe me right now
perhaps would be to say, “she’s nice, but she got an edge on her soul.” Do I like that description of myself? Nah,
not really. However, I don’t know how to
undo the frustration, the hurt, the anger and the pain—actual, physical,
wretched pain that I have felt and still sometimes feel. Pain that no one can see or feel, and that
very few seem to understand.
My brother and I talk quite a lot about life; we share our
observations through texts and phone calls each week. For example, I might text him and say “People
suck,” and he’ll text me back and say, “Yep.
Sure do.” And just like that,
we’ve summed up our collective opinion of human nature. Let’s face it: on some days, and depending on who you
encounter, how they act, and how you process their behavior—people do suck. We
are rude, selfish, inconsiderate, arrogant, prejudiced, and full of
hatred.
My current quandary is one for the ages: how do I live in this world, interact with
people, make connections and friendships with them, open myself up to exchange
with them, when I want to minimize my exposure to the human qualities that I
hate so much?? And if by chance I do
face heartbreak or disappointment, how do I keep from tossing the experience
into a pessimistic pile of inward “I told you so..”?
As long as you’re alive, it is possible to like, love, enjoy,
and yet be hurt by people. The key is to live a life full of positive possibility instead of
always inwardly expecting the worst from people. The last thing I want to be is a “negative
Nancy,” and I don’t feel that I am completely negative. Right now, I just think people leave much to
be desired, and I feel leery of approaching interaction with anyone new except
something for shallow – small talk, a compliment, a random act of kindness.
Just don’t need to depend on anyone who’s going to fail with flying colors, on
even the most basic of human courtesies.
Because when humans fail, we fail big time.
Now, I’m not saying I’m perfect. I don’t always do things
right, but there are certain things that I will not do. I will not take
advantage of someone; I’m not a user. I
won’t lie on or defraud anyone. I am not
a cheat or a cheater. I am not rude,
mean or a bully. I am a giver. I love to give to people, but mainly
strangers. I tried to be giving in
relationships, but people don’t seem to be able to reciprocate or not take
advantage.
I think that friendships are like implied contracts, as in
there are certain things that people, by virtue of being friends, should do,
like show concern; call or text you or at least respond when you call or text them;
listen when you need someone to talk to—they should reciprocate and show
themselves to be a friend, not just receive your friendship toward them. And by
“friend,” I don’t mean a casual associate, a friend on social media, or an
acquaintance you know little about. I mean someone you spend or have spent time
with, have shared experiences with.
People should not expect friendship from you if they are not willing to
extend friendship to you. For instance, if you can call me to talk about a
situation you are dealing with, but I can’t call you to share my worries and
woes, then we are not friends. I am your friend, but you are not my
friend. No time for those kind of
relationships anymore. Fresh out of effs
for those.
So, this is me, being real and saying that I’m filled to the
brim and have no more room for human disappointment. In the end, people will choose themselves,
their substance, or their sins over you, every time. This is me, being transparent to say that
I’ve been angry—pretty pissed off—for too long now, and it’s time to change.
Because it’s been killing me, literally, to fight to keep my anger toward a
bunch of worthless humans. I’ve been sad, hurt, livid, lonely, and now….
I can’t be any of those things anymore. The cost is too
dear.
This is me, hair on fire, waiting on the train. I lost my
cool, lost my patience, blew up in a ball of anger, all while standing here,
looking at you with a calm, straight face. I’m good at the game; I just don’t
wanna play no more.
The people whom I love, I love to life and forever beyond
it. The people who are on my “you ain’t
s&%t” list? Lifting a prayer to ask God to help me clear the list, cause
it’s way too long. I don’t want a list at all, but life and loss has added one
up for me. Sorry…apologies.
To the ones who do care, I know that you do, not because of
your words, but your actions. Through this trial and triumph, the thought of
you still drags a smile across my furrowed brow. To the ones who don’t: the feelings are now mutual, my guy.
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