Tuesday, July 9, 2019

Human frailty, human error and mutual feelings

That’s just like me. Just my style—to be able to artfully make others think that I’m all together, when I’m really falling apart inside.  I was raised with pride; not arrogance, but “put-your-best-foot-forward, never-let-em-see-you-sweat” pride. The kind of mentality that says, “don’t allow people to see your weaknesses."

"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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