If only people would let me run their lives, the world might be a better place. Or, maybe, MY WORLD would be easier. How come people come to me and ask my opinion and for my advice, I give it to them freely and then they do what their idiot best friend told them (whom by example would not be my first impulse to go ask) to do and then and then and then they run to me and ask me to clean up the mess they just made! court issues. paperwork issues, lover issues, marriage issues, car issues, yada yada yada you name it they put it at my doorstep and go, can you can you? please?
I ran in to it again today. And I just nod when the other party comes to my door step and goes, I don’t know if I can trust you, by agreeing to give so and so their paycheck and not making them come to the office to pick it up, it makes it seem like you’re more invested in them….
HUMMM…. let’s see, I am the manager. They did send written documentation they wanted me to deliver it…. hum, last I checked I did it right and just like you’ve had me do in the past. This one just hurt more for you because you feel like you’re losing your best friend.
Hummmm… don’t trust me? personal issue I suppose. I’ve lived the past year in your employ as one of the best you have, I stepped to the plate and took care of your business while you were away, I have the key to your establishment, I process payroll, I issues checks, I process your deposit…. And you don’t trust me. That’s a damn shame. I’m sorry to hear that for you.
I know I haven’t done anything wrong. Grow up and be professional please. I didn’t have a hissy and I didn’t take the bait. You want someone to argue with. I’m not that person. I have better self respect for myself than to do that where I work. Again, I am sorry for you.
Another instance…why tell me and let me into your world and show me what an ass the man is you’re dating and then tell me how abusive your relationship is. and then tell me that you’re engaged. And then tell me nope, you woke up and went and did it. AND THAT SAME NIGHT — you slept with his best friend while he was passed out in the bed with you guys…AGH!!! And now months later, your contemplating about moving out of state with the BF.
I love you. But I think what you did was wrong. I know it was. I don’t think you’re the type of person I should be friends with because it makes part of my world black and gray and I feel sooooo lonely and sad for you. I think you need to be a better person and that you need to love yourself so that you’ll stop doing self destructive things. But, I can’t fix your life for you. I can only tell you of my struggles and why I made changes in my own life and what values I hold dear to me. I can give you advice. I can show you the path or the way to go about doing something. But I cannot break the news to your hubby that you’re going to leave him and that it’s for his best friend, the man he calls brother. Don’t ask that of me. You’re an adult. You made these decisions. You need to make the changes.
So, looking inward. What will I do to move forward and not feel like this? Will I set boundaries and tell people not to tell me certain things because it makes me look at them differently? IF I did that, I’d feel wrong. Because I don’t think it’s right to close myself off from people that are so crippled emotionally that they actually scream silently at me for help.
Maybe it’s because of the fact that I lived as a ghost in my own home while growing up. I was invisible. I had parents that had basic rules. I had parents that worked alot. I had a sibling who was wrapped in his own world. I had so much but at the same time I had nothing. No one person I could turn to tell about my struggles. About my desire to just rip my own head off. About feeling like I was jumping out of my skin. I should have been into drugs and alcohol and sex. I wasn’t. I was alone. I was terrified. I was suicidal. I was a control freak. I couldn’t let anyone in long enough to get to know me. They couldn’t get close enough because I was afraid that the rage I felt inside would make them look at me with disgust.
I still feel that rage. I still feel the overwhelming urge to throw things. To kill things. To hurt things. All because I am a mess inside. But, I won’t throw things. I won’t kill things. I won’t hurt things. As angry as I am, I am more of a control freak and won’t allow myself to act upon these things. I once was on medication. I once did therapy. Did it for several years, several times a week. And it was worth it. I got to where I’m not on medication any more and I’m not in therapy anymore. By the way, I did that all on my own, the decision for therapy and to medicate. I then started getting to the point to where I could cut back the medication. Then no medication at all. Then only a couple times a week. Then only once a week. Then only twice a month and then down to once a month and then no therapy at all. Although, I gave myself other forms of therapy. Art: painting, pottery, poetry, writing. Dancing and music…listening to it and losing myself in it.
This is what I know. That’s where I’ve been. I carry it with me everyday and every moment I breath, least I forget and set myself back. Least I forget and destroy everything I’ve worked for. A life. A love. A family. A soul. There is no me without all the things I have done and been and have now become. There is no me without my love, my family and my soul… no life.
