if you think this is about you?
then it is.
well a vanishingly small infinitesimal part of it is.
that’s the culmination of years and years of my life and some stuff i want to discuss, get rid of, whatever that well, no one wants to hear about anymore.
i have, for a long time, been the kind of person that inspires things in people.
sometimes they imagine me to be someone they need me to be, other times i am their perfect love and still others i am an evil bitch. i like it better when i am what i am, a teacher, a guide, a woman and a flawed crystal just like the rest of us.
and you know, like anyone i am a pretty fucked up human being. i’m a narcissist and an asshole and an inconsiderate person who is so busy trying to get herself ahead that she steps on people on the way by. i make mistakes, i hurt people’s feelings, i dwell on things and tell the same story a hundred times and i’m overly sensitive to boot.
what i am most assuredly NOT is malicious.
i do not hurt people intentionally nor do i take joy in the pain of others.
i try not to say mean things although i confess that, again like many others, sometimes my family style teasing can cut a little close to the bone. it’s one of the hallmarks of a human who deflects with humour after all.
my sensitivity has increased to the point that i have difficulty watching the news. i have difficulty watch *fictional* forensic shows. i can barely handle whole categories of jokes.
and somehow through this has come a small series of people who communicate using weapons. who tell me that i’m negative or condescending or intentionally malicious or hurtful or poisonous and then expect me to apologise to them.
now i understand that i can hurt your feelings.
i understand that i can grievously wound you with no intention of doing so beyond my own hapless inability to be perfect at all times.
i understand that i can and will do things that will seem like the greatest of cruelties to anyone not living in my head.
what i cannot understand is how people who claim to care for me would assume such things of me without ever for an instant considering that just maybe i wasn’t actually trying to be a jerk.
that maybe i’m just not perfect after all.
i further don’t understand, and have never had successfully explained to me, how anyone could lob such words and more besides at me and then expect me to take them well, change my ways and beg for forgiveness.
don’t misunderstand, i hear every single one of the words and i try to learn from them… but that isn’t the point of this post.
when you hurt my feelings i don’t believe i craft insults the likes of which i would not hurl at my worst enemy. i don’t think that i plan revenge. i try desperately not to attack but i don’t succeed all that well when i’m wounded.
i try to just tell you how/why you’ve hurt me from my own perspective and wait for you to explain. i’m getting better at this but still have a tendency to hide and lick my wounds for a while before i deal with things. yes, this gets me in trouble.
i asked my most serious ex (tr) if he would have described me, at the height of my post car accident crazy or during our breakup [simultaneous], as intentionally hurtful and he said no. i am giving him this one. [when asked if i hurt him and said horrible things to him? i am certain he would say yes, but that wasn’t the question.]
i used to, when fighting with boyfriends, tell them what i thought they were thinking before they could tell me… one of the worst ways to fight imaginable. you see when told what you’re thinking by someone else, most especially when you are insulted in the telling, it’s almost impossible to stay rational and not get het up with rage.
i used to date a man who would say “if i say something and you can take it two ways? assume i meant it the nice one” and he’s RIGHT!
the moment that you start to assume that your friends are trying to hurt you, that your friends don’t have your back, that your friends don’t care about you? that moment?
that’s the moment that you make it impossible for them.
if you think i’m being mean to you on purpose i could tell you i’m going to be late for dinner and you could decide that i’m being late because i know that you’re starving and i want to hurt you and make you hungry and miserable… or you could assume i got held up at work and will be along as quick as i can.
we still get to dinner late but in the second scenario we might just still be friends by dessert.
i always wonder, when in receipt of such pleasantries, why whoever is telling me what a terrible person i am wants to be my friend at all.
and i still don’t know the answer.
well sometimes i do, obviously sometimes they don’t and they have to make sure i know it. they have to hurt me on the way out the door and tell me all sorts of “hard truths about myself for my own good” to make sure that i will never come back.
those ones hurt in a special kind of way that never entirely heals over.
but the other ones, the ones who want to be friends… why do they insist on treating their friends like enemies?