Reflections of a Sound — Silverchair & After the Disco -- Broken Bells

Just a quick update for those newbies just joining me here, as well as those who keep returning:

Whatever you think you might know, if you haven’t read every single post from beginning to end, you’ll never have the full story, never see the fullness of my growth as a human, and my potential to continue to grow, still. You see, I know things, learn things, hear things, file it all away. You should realize now that even all of those posts don't tell the full story, the ones that are there are the ones that I have chosen to still share. There are more, always more. Unpublished, reverted to draft, saved for later only to hang out for years and years. Corrections, curations, concise, and even-wordier versions of the same thing…what does it all mean!? It means, my dear readers, that you have access to information that I have selected to give, things that I have worked through, things that I am still working on—it really shouldn’t mean as much to you as it will ever mean to me. Want to know why? Because it’s for me. Unfortunately, for some of you, it was never about anything else but me, as selfish as it sounds. You’re welcome to keep coming back here and checking what little progress that I have made in life, and I guess what I really want other people to understand is that this will always only ever be a small part of me, about me. You think that I should, would, tell you everything? Ha! I’m telling you what I think might be helpful if you are on your own journey to finding your true self, of healing trauma, or even just learning to navigate life’s many challenges. 

The thing is, I don’t know that I ever even truly cared if anyone else can understand me, who I truly am, and what I’m trying to accomplish in my life. I thought that I did until I realized that it may not actually be possible to be fully understood as a person by another human being. My own age would lead me to believe that there is still progress to be made on all fronts, as I am old enough to know better but too old to give a shit what anyone else thinks about it. It turns out, a massive amount of steroids really just reveals my hidden anger and frustrations about silly things, but, when they finally taper to the end, I discovered that all my ranting was mostly just for fun and entertainment purposes. I really think that no one but my closest family members, the one I as born into and the one that I have created in life, actually truly know me, and even I am skeptical of that. Addison didn’t even realize that I had graduated college. Kiddo, I graduated college while I was pregnant with you! It’s just that I didn’t ever finish my Master’s degree. It hardly seems worth the effort it might take to do it now, as the return on that investment may never actually come to fruition. And all of that's ok. If I have shown my vulnerability to you, there's a reason for it--usually lack of food or sleep will push me into a moment in which it is rather difficult not to reveal my feelings. I would honestly rather not. You see, I spoke to some people who are nice at work yesterday and assured them that they don't have to go out of their way to try to talk to me or be nice to me. It's ok that I am unwanted. I can feel it, but I don't know that I can do anything about it yet. I suppose people are waiting for me to be mean to them, I guess? Were you mean to me? I am the mirror, I am the foil sometimes, people! It's what you don't understand about that that will eventually create the difficulty. If you treat me with kindness and politeness, you will not be surprised that I return the same. If you treat me with harshness and anger, it's what will be returned. Not every single time, as, you know, progress, but mostly that has been my function throughout time. I was once of the mind that one should be nice even if other people are not nice in return. I literally cannot do that all the time. I don't think that it is actually helpful, or healthy, to continue to take heaps of shit from people, and just keep letting it happen. Dad told me that his father had taught him, when he was young, that he could take a little shit but he didn't have to let anyone rub it in. I subscribe to another way entirely: Do no harm, take no shit. I also can't just let other people take a bunch of shit right in front of me and say nothing, do nothing. See, progress! I tell you, I had a person with whom I worked ask me about the letter to the editor that I wrote in high school--people are so silly to think that I wouldn't have changed or grown as a person since then--about not posting the Ten Commandments in our schools without offering equal space for the other religions to post theirs, and that perhaps the Golden Rule should be posted instead, as its likeness can be found in most major religions. What I said during that meeting, after chuckling, was that sometimes karma doesn't act fast enough for my satisfaction and that I'll not be letting anyone just shit all over me all the time anymore. The truth is, I can take a little shit but I ain't ever going to give you the opportunity to rub it in without getting some of it all over you as well. If you give me shit, and you get it right back, I think that's just fine. Maybe some day I will be able to look at you and say, ok, sure, heap it on. I don't think that day will ever actually come, though, because maybe I don't want it to! I think I related here that I had told my sister that I was sick of being nice to people--the part that I did't write, that I felt didn't even need to be said, was that I'm only sick of being nice to shitty human beings, especially when they can't be bothered to be kind to themselves or others. I can see you changing, making a little effort, and I will adjust my tactics to reflect those changes. I won't seek out to punish you for things that you have done to me that were unkind, I will just wait until it sorts itself out, like always. But I was mean to the lady who was shitty and unkind to me and I only feel a little bad about it. I don't know what her damage is, it hardly matters what the root cause of her suffering is, only that she has it and sometimes doesn't know what to do with it. That's okay, we all have been there, or will be there, at one point or another. I can forgive people and move forward and the default mode has always been polite. I don't know that I could outright be mean to someone who is actually showing me and other people kindness on a regular basis. If you're questioning my actions, perhaps I am also questioning yours and your motives. I always have. I probably always will. 

I will reiterate: you don't have to go out of your way to be friendly or nice to me, it's not necessary. Will I return that friendliness and kindness with the same vigor as I return the hatred and anger that I receive? Absofuckinlutely. It's just that, I don't want to worry that you're going to be friendly and kind to me, perhaps even befriend me, and then once you get to know me, attempt to use the things that you know about me against me, to hurt me, or try to hurt me, for reasons I will never understand. That's what has been done to me all my life. I realized, much too late, that most of the friends that I ever had were just not good people. The 'best friend' that I had my last year of high school? She wasn't really that great of a friend to me, it turned out, and when I moved back here and ran into her at the ex's house she said, "You know I didn't fuck him, right?" I think she went on to say that she wouldn't have done that to me or something like that. "You can have him, I don't want him," was my response. I was polite and nice to her when I saw her that day, as she had been to me. But she isn't my friend. Hell, she probably never really was my friend. I will never know, really, if any of them were. I don't know that it matters now. 

Playfulness comes when you are comfortable in your environment and you have healed your trauma. I can be playful, I can do things that I enjoy in a playful manner, and even make the occasional attempt at a joke, although not always successfully. I can also just be plain weird. That's okay, too. I know I have said some off-the-cuff shit to some people just to kinda gage their responses and their reactions. It's not ever planned, it just comes out of my mouth without my thinking, if I don't stop it. Oh fucking well. I have tried really hard to not talk to people as much, whether or not that's good remains to be seen. What I do know for sure is that when people say some off-the-cuff shit to me and I find it weird, I can't seem to completely control my facial expressions in response to it. One day someone told me, unprompted, that her kid was a psycho. And then went on to say that they were four years old. I tried to say as little as possible to this person, because, who the fuck says that about their own child, and to a stranger? I don't want to know the person that says that about their own child. I also heard a woman go on and on about birds the other day, before smiling and tuning out the conversation completely to concentrate on my work and try not to make more mistakes. I'm sorry about all your illnesses, guys, I'm sorry about your negative experiences with nature. I'm sorry that you think that my reactions to assholes is me being intentionally mean. It's a reaction. Ain't none of that shit that's going on in anyone else's life any of my fucking business. Not because I don't care about you as a human being, but because that's your life, and I'm definitely not playing a part in it. I am an extra on the set. I'm here merely for the appearance of many people in the background. That's it. Sometimes I am the mirror, the foil. Sometimes I am the lesson. Mostly, I am just learning my own lesson. 

I don't know that I will ever be comfortable around new people. I don't trust people. I want to be able to do these things, and I think that, eventually, it may work out that I can, but I don't expect it to happen any time soon, and neither should you. All of the things that have happened in my life, I have learned from them--and what I have learned, really, is how truly cruel people can be to one another. It's not a lesson that is easily forgotten. I don't want your pity and I don't want to keep bashing all the dead horses that are lying around on this blog, but something has to give. I worked on, in therapy, as a goal, to be able to be touched by other people and not recoil at the thought of it. My ex husband knows this. I think he sought to use this information against me. What he doesn't know, though, is that I told him that I didn't like to be touched but  the part I didn't say to him was that I didn't want to be touched by him. I don't know why I bothered to spare that motherfucker's feelings when he never would do that for me and my own feelings. Oh well. My knee-jerk reaction to him touching me at the waist with both his hands, unexpectedly, to 'keep me from falling,' when, during the holidays, we had bustled into the utility room behind our kid, only for him to turn around and come back as I was on his heels, was to say, "don't fucking touch me!" I had been working on it in therapy. And it tumbled out of my mouth automatically and I was so happy that it did, because that was the small goal. He got so angry and upset, even after I told him that I didn't really want anyone to fucking touch me, that I didn't particularly like it, and that it wasn't just him, that he just left abruptly at Christmas--of course, this was after we had separated and he was there because my sister was concerned he might lose power and freeze to death because of the winter storm. But, what I had said about not wanting to be touched was a kind of a lie, one of those little white ones that are 'okay' to tell people so their feelings don't get hurt, as it was explained to me when I was a small child who was trying so hard to understand the difference between a little white lie and all the other lies. The truth is that I just didn't want him to fucking touch me. I wanted for people, especially those who actually care about me, to be able to touch me without me absolutely hating it. I wanted to be able to be hugged by another human being and not be just waiting for them to let go because it just made me uncomfortable. I wanted to be able to return the hug. I did it successfully not too long ago. The day that I hugged someone who had just recently met me, someone who was trying to be nice to me, and was able to return the hug without feeling uncomfortable about it--I considered that day a success for me. I had done the thing that I had set a small goal to be able to do! Yay! (mock my words and small joys all you like, it only makes me more glad to be able to spread joy when I can) And, even though that person had seemed like, at least to me, at the time, to be attempting to be friendly and get to know me, I withheld the things that I once might have shared about myself, like I have learned to do to protect myself from those who seek to harm me with that information. I learned that from someone who abused me. Don't share anything with an abuser that might be used later to hurt you--it's just too bad that you never really know what that is until someone attempts to use it against you. I have not yet unlearned the things that I made a habit of doing to protect me. I have yet to learn to trust people that I don't know, and even those that I do know, I am still skeptical as to their motivations at times. Maybe that will change. Maybe people will show me that there is a reason for that to change. I don't know, yet, though, that that's the case. 

You see, the jury is still out, they are weighing all the things that you've said and done all your days and are trying to decide if you are a friend or a foe. I seek to have neither at the moment. All one has ever given me is the other. Friend turned to foe, foe turned to friend. It's impossible to see things in the rainbow spectrum of colors when, especially at first glance, everything seems so black and white. What you don't know is that I bought the books that teach people--trained professionals--to deal with people like me. When I cracked the cover of that first book, I learned something about myself that they were never going to outright tell me, as it is not their strategy to divulge all the information that they have and the way that it is laid out to them, even if it would help someone like me. What I learned that day was that, yes, I can be described as seeing things only in black and white sometimes, but I can choose to try to be another way as well. It just takes effort. And a lot of practice. I'm still not great at seeing the full spectrum of colors of every situation, I usually only see in black and white dichotomies when I am struggling, ill, or even just at the first, initial, glance. It sometimes takes effort on my part to be able to see the things as a color on the spectrum of all possible things. Not everything is black and white, even though it would seem like it might make things simpler if they were. The truth is that people aren't all good or all bad. They and their actions lie along the colorful spectrum of all things as well, and to think otherwise is a fallacy. I know this already, of course, I am just relating it to you here and now, as it seems that, for this moment in time, I seek for those who think they know me to understand me better, even if they can never truly know me. That's what I am feeling in this moment. Just try to keep in mind that moments and feelings change and are ever-fleeting, at least for me. I don't know about everyone else's, but mine are different from moment to moment, day to day, week to week. Always changing, always. One therapist described adapting to the changes in my emotions throughout the day, throughout a week, a month, et cetera, as riding the waves. I have been riding these waves for a long time now. Sometimes the waters are flat and would make a sailor sad, other times the waves are choppy, stirred up by gusty winds. The point is that they never stop fluctuating. That is just the way of things. It may not be that way for other people, I can't pretend to know what everyone goes through all the time, but if it feels anything like what I have been through during my life here, then I know for sure that I can, and do, empathize. 

I'm not sure what the point of all this is, really, this time. A lot of people have said a lot of weird shit to me, as I certainly have to them, over the years, and I just can't be bothered to try and figure out why anymore. If you seek to harm me, then so be it. I will continue to set boundaries where I think it's necessary. I will continue to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all when things seem to get difficult, or weird, for no reason that is easily apparent to me. I thought, for a while, that if I just kept pouring out all the good I had to give in the world, that it would just keep coming back to me. Now I struggle to understand why all everyone seems to want to do is try to virtue-signal their way into one another's good graces. I am confused by everyone's lack of accountability--even if it is only to themselves. Why can't other people police their own behavior as they seem to do others so easily? I seek to understand other people but I never really have, and I guess maybe I never really will. I think maybe that has to be okay, too. I don't understand you! You certainly may never understand me, and I gave up on being understood ages ago. As a small child I gave up on understanding why I am so different from others and why so many other people view me, how I am, how I didn't choose to be, as some sort of threat or affront to them personally. I just know that it happens, it continues to happen, it will probably always happen. I gotta let that shit go too. It's going to take effort to make progress there.

I don't know that it was the right choice, but I chose to show some vulnerability to the people who have been kind to me, to let them know that I was struggling to feel comfortable in that place. I don't know if it was alright for me to have done so. I feel like I showed them how they might be able to hurt me. I guess, if they choose to, they will try to hurt me even if I don't want them to, even if I don't do anything that warrants ill will. I was not very nice to the lady who smacked me on the shoulder when we worked next to each other earlier in the week. I told her that I thought I liked it better when she wasn't speaking to me. I was not very kind at all when she kept giving back the things I was making for repairs--repairs that I am fairly certain wouldn't have been necessary if she hadn't been actively tearing the shit up. I had laughed it off because it was ridiculous and just thought that laughter was a much better response than to get angry about it. I don't know that that was alright on my part, but it's what happened and I only feel a little bad about it, and only because I think that she probably isn't an awful person but, rather, someone who doesn't quite fit in either. Maybe she has had similar difficulties in adjusting to the challenges in life as I have had in my own? When she had smacked my shoulder, she may have been attempting to include me in playfulness that I don't feel safe or comfortable enough to participate in. I have seen and heard other people aggravate each other playfully at work and I don't feel safe to let my guard down anywhere except when I am all by myself or with people who are very close to me already. Even then, when people who are close to me are around, there's still a little bit of me that is guarded. A little bit of me that holds back on what I truly feel and think, always. I don't know that I will ever be comfortable enough with anyone to let my guard down fully, ever. I don't know that I ever really have. I don't know that I can. That's probably something else that I should work on, but I don't know that I can fix that at all and I don't know that I should. 

So, do with this information what you will. Just try not to understand me without first attempting to fully understand yourself. 

When I woke up this morning, the sound of birds chirping greeted me and I decided to come here and work on the things that I have struggled with recently. I know that I haven't done everything perfectly in this life and that we all have our own struggles in doing right and being kind and I try to keep that in mind when I can--is that something that you can work on as well? Is it possible for you to forgive? Am I capable of forgiving others and letting things go? I guess there's always more work to be done because I would definitely like to find out if I am capable of letting things go, of really forgiving people for being shitty. Shouldn't I continue to attempt it anyway???

Brightest Morning Star — Britney Spears & The Truth — Foster the People

It must be so confusing for you. That’s alright, I don’t mind if you don’t understand, never understand. 

Want to know a secret?

I am aware, I just don’t care anymore. Perhaps you should try it, it’s quite pleasant. After enough of everyone’s bullshit, I guess you just get bored of the same old things happening and it’s no longer surprising at all when people are just …themselves, even when they are predictable, poorly mannered, or even downright just shitty people. Turns out, there’s a lot more of those than we would all like to believe. Otherwise we all wouldn’t be in this mess. There wouldn’t be endless wars, daily conflicts, or masses of people in our world hungry and homeless.

That’s what all of this really boils down to, isn’t it, is whether or not you’re willing to just sit by and let things happen? The reality of each of our own little universes is such that each of our lives, our livelihoods, our hopes, dreams, and goals are completely shaped, and I dare say somewhat determined, by the fact that our society has determined that the best used of each of our limited time here is being “productive” in a society by working every day in the capitalist system. It’s unfortunate that the system itself is most certainly the biggest part of the problem.

The subject of war came up while I was enjoying my time at my second job—which is ‘None of Your Business’—and I couldn’t help but to think that the problems of the world are just about the same whether or not you are viewing it at a macro level or a micro level—it all kinda boils down to: what you allow will continue. Very little at the micro level is controllable, really, like I have said many times before, the only thing that you can really control is your reaction to any given moment in time. How do you react when there is conflict, created or not, is often the measure that shows how much you are actually capable of controlling. And it’s always—and only—your own actions and reactions. 

Of course, we all have to decide which of the things we are willing to do for a productive job, where we want to live, where we want to spend our, however small, amount of leisure time, what we drive or how we transport  ourselves to those places. All of those things are, somewhat, within our ability to choose and decide for ourselves, within the framework of the society in which we live. Some might say we actually have very few choices, and, depending on how you look at the world, some others might just say that we don’t have any at all, that everything is pre-determined.

I choose to live my own life with the realization that what I can control about my own little world is how I choose to view it, how I choose to act, and how I choose to react. As it turns out, all the assholes in the world may not actually be capable of changing. Otherwise, why would we be having another war, building a bunch of data centers (that take our fresh water ruin those supplies), and continuing to have increasing numbers of hungry and homeless people in our world? I had hoped, for the future of humanity, that all the advances in technology, and our abilities to adopt and adapt them, would help to ease, if not entirely eliminate, the problems we have in housing and feeding the world’s population.

After a lot of observation, I guess what I have determined is the same thing that our boys from Twenty One Pilots have concluded: 

“Maybe this is you

Maybe you don’t fix and you like it like this”

I haven’t given up hope that people, and the world as a whole, can change for the better. I have just given up on ever expecting anything more from people who don’t seem capable or interested in changing anything for the better when they might actually be able to do so. For all those who decide, when they rise each day, to be a better version of themselves than they were yesterday, I applaud your efforts. For the rest of you, I have just given up any hope that you’ll ever actually change. And that’s okay. I can’t do anything about the rest of yall, all I can do is mind my own fucking business and continue to show up for myself every day, honor the commitments that I have made, and try to be a better version of myself with each step forward. 

I have had the unfortunate habit, over the course of my entire life, of questioning why other people don’t seem capable of change or growth. I have finally determined that a new habit should take its place. I will continue to set boundaries and enforce them, but I am working on creating this new habit where I just automatically take the first reaction that I have and go with it, because it’s always been right. It’s only in the questioning of that first reaction that has ever been the problem—and The Truth is that, even if you don’t understand, may never be capable of understanding, I still know exactly what I knew from the beginning—the knee-jerk reaction is the one that I will hold on to now, just stop questioning it. “What the hell does that mean!?!?” you might be asking—well, as it turns out, all of this was never about anything but my own growth as a human. And here’s a secret I can finally share, lean in really close so I can just whisper it into your ear: I know a lot of things, but I can only change myself.

What can you do?

Men Amongst Mountains -- The Revivalists & Leave It Alone -- Broken Bells

I have only ever tried to use what little power, agency, or advantage that I might have in the world with good intentions, for the good of the world, as a whole. You know what they say about the road to hell being paved with good intentions. It never occurred to me to switch teams and go full evil-villain. I think there are already too many of those in this world, so it's best to just go ahead and bat clean-up for this side, even if it always kinda feels like we might not win every battle. I have tried my best, but sometimes, that's just not good enough. Instead, I've just stopped trying at all. This stuff, all the drama around the people who suck--for whatever reasons, whether they're actually valid or not--is just not a necessary use of my time and energy. Today I prayed for people that I know dislike like me--the feeling is mutual, but I prayed anyhow, that they would all be alright and somehow learn whatever lesson was necessary for them to move on with their lives. What they don't understand, though, is that I've been pissing people off by just being myself for a very long time. What I have learned is that sometimes it is really just ignorance and not always malice, in most situations. Not with a narcissist, though. Narcissists like to socially sabotage others by spreading rumors, withholding information, gaslighting, and even attempting to humiliate others in a public setting. The thing about these types of people, though, is that they can't ever get enough. Never enough attention and never enough self-esteem to go around for the narcissists. That's okay, they're probably somewhat ignorant as well. What they don't understand is that they could change for the better, if they put in some effort. 

I think that I only truly regret saying something mean to one person, her name is Jennifer. If you're out there, this is for you: in the fifth or sixth grade I said something really unkind about the t-shirt that you were wearing that day. It was actually a really cool shirt and I should have told you so! I let my own hurt feelings allow me to hurt someone who very likely didn't deserve my wrath! I went home later, and lamented, to Mom, of course, about the whole situation and she was the one who made me think, you know, maybe I shouldn't have said that. The person on the receiving end, although they hadn't been super nice to me, was in the unfortunate position of being on the receiving end of a hateful remark from me--and for what? I honestly can't remember what exactly happened surrounding the event, just that my words had hurt the other person and I knew it and I couldn't take it back. The feeling has never left me, ever. I still feel bad about it to this day. So, Jennifer, if you're out there and you remember this: I'm sorry. I think about it a lot and try my best to avoid ever having that feeling again. Of all of the mean shit that I have said and done in my life, that's the one that I truly regret. 

Now, if you're sitting there and are like, "whaaaaa??? what about that time you were mean to *me*?!?!?!" Well, bud, I hate to break it to you, but, it mostly likely was one of three things: completely unintentional, I don't remember being mean, or I don't feel the least bit bad about it. Could go either way, I guess. You decide!

If you, on the other hand, have been watching all this go down and are just waiting for the next update: I'm still a bitch. I just got up, looked in the mirror, checked to see, and yep, still a bitch. It's not likely to get better either. I think that everyone around me underestimates my ability to be a raging bitch while also being a decent human being. You could try it, as well, if you're so inclined. It's a paradox, much like myself, and I could keep teaching you new words but I don't want to anymore. 

What I want to do, really, is be left the fuck alone. And, if you can't do that, I will continue to help you out with that by at least minding my own fucking business, like Ms. Steckler always says, "Worry 'bout ya own self."

You're still here, reading, so I am going to assume that you are minding my business too. Ok, great. Let's clear the air again:

You get to wake up every glorious morning and decide how your day will go. Will you look up at the blue sky, hear the birds chirp, and be grateful for this life? Or will you get angry and upset that your life might not be going how you want it to? Will you take that hurt and pain and use it against others? Or will you decide that being a better person than you were the day before isn't actually that difficult a choice to make? You can decide, at each moment of your life, how you choose to view things--is it a blessing or a curse? 

So, the conclusion that I have come to is that I am very blessed. I am blessed with a wonderful family and a wonderful life. I have the things that I need to survive. I am also blessed that I get to be challenged each day by people who always surprise me, and a few who don't surprise me at all! What a blessing it is to be able to have a life at all and to be able to live it to the fullest! 

What will you decide each morning when you wake?

Can't Stop the Sun -- Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers & Circus -- Britney Spears

I once had to tell a seventy-year-old employee that she couldn't yell at the clients. You'd think she would have known better. When she started to yell at me in the same tone of voice I just stopped her and said, "Look, I know that you can control the volume, tenor, and tone of your voice, so just take a second and bring it down several notches, because if you were speaking to the clients like you're addressing me now, then I can see why I got the calls and emails that I received today." It was when I was delivering formal discipline that she told me that she didn't think that I liked her too much. I didn't reply to that statement, because it was--and still is irrelevant. I continued to read the letter of reprimand that I had been instructed to write and deliver by my superiors. I hadn't ever been in that situation before but I like to think that I handled it like a professional. 

So, today, after I had had some food at lunch time and was in a much better physical condition--and also because they have finally given me one more round of medicine to help stop the ongoing reaction from the allergy shots--all I could do was laugh at how ridiculous the whole situation had become--how did you end up like this? What the fuck happened to you? Did your Mother not teach you better? I'm sure mine saw you for what you are and didn't even bother trying to get you to change. As I just laughed and laughed, I hoped that wherever Mom's spirit is, that she could feel just how much I appreciate the things that she taught me while she was here. I am so thankful for her and grateful for this life! I couldn't help but truly feel that part of Mom's spirit was with me today, even if she's already been reincarnated.

For anyone who may be wondering--I'm not going to be letting other people shit all over me and my happy existence any longer. You can try. But know this: if you fuck around, you'll soon find out that I will come here as much as I want and write all about it and your shitty behaviors. And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it. Want to know why? Because it's not illegal to tell people how shitty you are if it's the truth! Want to know how I know that? Communication 411, Communication Law, which was maybe my favorite class in all of my time studying in college. Isn't it wonderful to know that I can only report that you're being a shitty person because you actually are being a terrible shit!?!? I don't know how you feel but I am reveling. REVELING! (also so so glad that you can read!)

Which brings me to my next point: I feel really good when I call people out for being shitty humans to their faces. It's pretty fucking amazing, really. I have never had a huge problem with confrontation. Most people do I guess. Whatever, man, get over it! Get out there and start calling out these awful people in public to their faces for their behavior! That’s the free speech zone!! (Work and school are definitely not free speech zones, FYI)

I even went to the trouble to do it quite recently. Our little town was in the local news because a high school Spanish teacher was fired from his job for having a relationship with a student. There's a lot more to it, as it wasn't his first offense with the same type of behavior. Unfortunately, I have a child around the same age as the people who are involved in this fiasco--the fifty-something-year-old guy who likes to fuck teenagers has a teenage daughter the same age as the kid he was messing around with--gross! Can't you look at an 18-year-old child and recognize that they're still children? I know I can because I've got some kids myself. 

The week that it came out in the newspaper, we were at the doctor's office and the girls behind the reception desk were talking about the situation. I was minding my own business for a minute, playing endless word games on my phone, when I became aware of what they were talking about. I didn't think anything about it, really, except that it was unprofessional, until one said to the other about the guy and the child he was "having an affair with" as it had been phrased, that the whole situation was gross and "they should just kill them both." And then I stopped being able to concentrate on the game in my hands. That crossed a line. Should I say something? The kid in question was, in a roundabout way, a friend of their dad's side of the family, the ex and the family of this kid are friends, this poor kid in question had been suffering--I knew, because she was being ostracized by her once-friends. This is a child! was all I could think. Something told me to just keep my fucking mouth shut for a minute because something was coming. I didn't know what but after that comment, things had gotten really quiet, like the other girl involved in the conversation was reluctant to even continue after what the other had said. 

A few minutes later, my own child appeared in the doorway, ready to go, and around the same time as she was coming though, the girl that had made the comment about killing both of them came out sobbing and telling the other girl that she just got fired. (Good!) She kept crying and repeating it as she gathered her things. She was about to come out the same door that my kid had emerged from when she was--I assume--stopped by the boss and sent out the back door. Me and my kid made our escape and were in the car driving away from the girl in the lot still crying in her car before I explained, in much detail, what had happened. My kid had told me, and now I can't recall whether it was before or after this happened--but it hardly matters now--anyway, she proceeded to tell me the Wife of said kid-diddling Spanish teacher had caught the girl--the one who was in the very unfortunate position of being groomed by this man--at McDonald's before school one morning that week, I think, or maybe the previous one, and blocked her car in the parking lot so she couldn't just leave, and then, in front of her own young children, proceeded to cuss this child out about "having an affair" with her husband. BITCH, WHAT? Also, just for--reasons--we are going to call this bitch Leather Shoe Face, as she had been previously dubbed. And also because everyone knows who I am talking about--and if you don't, you're not missing much, I'll just tell you. Leather Shoe Face is having a really shitty time, I can empathize with that--family tragedy on top of a sex scandal is not easy on anyone. BUT the dude cannot abide. I couldn't abide. I didn't want to just sit by and do nothing, say nothing. 

So I waited for the perfect opportunity to present itself. It happened one morning after we had both dropped off kids in the car rider line and were on the return trip, sans children, when it just so happened that I was at the stop light and she pulled right up beside me. So I rolled my window down and started saying, hell I can't even remember my exact words but it was something like, I heard you caught a child at McDonald's the other morning and blocked her in and cussed her out? Leather Shoe Face's response still puzzles me to this day. She said to me, "That's not true, I don't cuss!" Bitch, maybe you should cuss out your dirtbag of a husband! I said something like, and every other word was fuck or fucking or some such similar derivative--cause we ALL KNOW that I have no qualms about cussing. None. Anyway I proceed to tell her that she was wrong to do that to a child. That's a child, I insisted. "Did you know she was sleeping with my husband?" I remember what I said, emphatically, to that, "Everyone knows!"  I can't clearly recall if she had said something else, it hardly mattered. "Maybe it wouldn't be a problem if your husband wasn't touching and fucking kids!" People behind us were honking, the light had changed, but I will never forget the look on her Leather Shoe face. She was so mad at me! Rolling up her window and being really mad. I drove away and I felt like I had successfully done a task that I hadn't even been sure that I would be able to complete. The stars aligned for that shit. 

I am not sorry for speaking out. I guess my only regret in that whole situation was making the mistake of relating what had happened that morning to the manager here of the apartments. Turns out she's probably Leather Shoe Face's best buddy and now she doesn't like me at all, I think. That's not my problem, though, because I don't care if you like me or not. What I do care about is the fact that when I put my rent check in the box on the 1st, it still hasn't been deposited over a week later and all the residents got really weird letters detailing strange scenarios regarding the complexities of the lease we all signed. At the top of the list was about paying rent on time and what constituted late, and what the late fees would be when it was late. I read the whole letter, down to the request to have someone--a resident--apply for a position helping them out cleaning apartments, grounds, et cetera, for 25 hours a month for $200 dollars that 'wouldn't affect your rent." I think at least six of the units are open now. When she told me last month that my rent would go up because my kid had turned 18, I just said, if we can't afford it we'll just move. It's fine. There was some 'mistake' on her part because the kid is still in school. Apparently they can't increase the rent that substantially until after she graduates. Ok, I'm sure it was a mistake. I ended up calling to find out if we would incur late fees if the rent was turned in on time but not deposited on time? The message that I received while I had no service said that we should not incur late fees. I have photographs of the check with the date, taken right before placing it in the envelope and taking it to the box, as has been a habit of mine since Steven and I lived together. I have evidence of the day and time that the mission was accomplished. But what about their end? The message said that for whatever reason the payment couldn't be deposited from here so it was sent to a corporate/regional office for deposit or some shit. All I know is that it's still hanging out there in limbo and I am still waiting and wondering if this is a ploy on this woman's part to just get us evicted/kicked out of here? If they want me to leave, all they have to do is just ask. I'm already packing my shit up to move again anyway, as soon as possible, because who wants to deal with this kind of shit? This woman called other tenants 'useless' in conversation with me, called the maintenance guy 'pretty but not too smart,' and bemoaned having to deal with the various tenants and their rather unfortunate circumstances. If she's saying this kind of shit to me, what's she saying about me? First of all, I don't care to know, and secondly it's probably not good--if her prior behavior is any indication. Oh fucking well--if all it takes is me defending a child to bring about this kind of reaction from other people I MUST BE DOING SOMETHING RIGHT! 

If you're out there reading this and just getting really mad at me--that's okay! Be mad! Stay mad! I don't care, just stop being a shitty fucking human being. And if you really can't or won't bother with trying not to be shitty, well, all I have to say to that is: YOU FUCKING SUCK AND I DON'T WANT TO ASSOCIATE WITH YOU! Someone I respect a lot told me that I would be better off tolerating the person who was unkind to me and she was right. I am better off tolerating you all. I've just been doing it for over 41 years at this point and I guess what I'm really feeling is DISAPPOINTED IN ALL OF YOU SHITTY PEOPLE IN THE WORLD! I can tolerate you but can you handle it when I call your bitch-asses out to your faces? Hell no, you can't! Every time I do it you either look shocked, angry, or pretend that I didn't say anything at all. Like the Post Office Bitch. Her name is Lindsay. She told me when I first moved back here and was (briefly) working at the Shell station--that's a whole other story on how you can incense people without even fucking anyone in the process, but that will have to come later--anyway this bitch came in to buy something, I don't even remember what or what else was said but she said to me, "I thought you would have done something more with your life." Bitch for about twenty fucking years I didn't think about you at all! Do you know what I expected out of your life? NOTHING! Want to know why? Because I don't care what job you have as long as you're happy and healthy! Does that matter to you--my health and happiness??? APPARENTLY NOT! Because if it truly did, you'd be proud of me for showing up every day to continue to participate in this life. There was a time that I was fighting--literally--tooth and nail, just to WANT TO CONTINUE TO LIVE! And I came back from that! All of you people out there with weirdly high expectations of me and my life, here's a message just for you:

FUCK OFF! Take those expectations of me, and of everyone else, and throw that shit down on the ground.  Stop projecting what you think someone else's life ought to be onto others! How dare you act as if you didn't have every opportunity to do whatever you wanted in this wonderful life and you chose to work the same job since high school and never leave our home town! FFFFFUUUUCCCCCKKKK YOU! And furthermore, not that I owe anyone any sort of explanation, but for the record, just to set things straight and get it out of me, here's the deal: I have only ever wanted to do this--writing--as an occupation. At every turn in my life, I have let other people tell me what they thought I ought to be doing with my life and for some fucked up reason I listened!?!? I WAS AN IDIOT, I GUESS (Mom, you were right). I wasn't strong enough before to do all this by myself, to come to these conclusions, to decide what I really wanted in life and go for it. I didn't want to be a doctor, or surgeon specifically, because the thought of making a mistake that could cost someone else their own life was devastating to me! I don't want to hurt or kill anyone just by making an error! I didn't want to be an astronaut because the thought of going into outer space was very unappealing to me after reading Hawking and Sagan at 9 and 10 years old. I have only ever wanted to communicate my message to the world and learn as many languages as possible along the way so that I could do it! That's what I have felt my purpose in this life has been since I came screaming into it! I have known this. And I have never made much money at this. It doesn't feel right to me just yet to try to profit from my one true gift. So there it is. That's my truth. My purpose here was decided before anyone else had the chance to weigh in--and it never changed. It just became the thing that I do in the time that I have when I'm not working for money just to make it in our society. It doesn't necessarily matter to me what the job is, as long as I am not hurting others by performing it and I'm not miserable while I'm there. I think I have finally found a place that offers both things and an opportunity for me to not be so exhausted afterward that I can do all these other things that I seek to do--writing, skateboarding, spending time with family, traveling, and enjoying this world while it's still possible. 

I guess I said all this to say: I wanted to tell this bitch to her face, for years, that I don't like her--and I DID. That was the beginning of all of this for me, of growing strong enough to face shitty people and be prepared to call them on it. It happened at the grocery store, I was leaving the check out and this bitch was lingering near the customer service area, staring openly at me until I saw her, looked into her eyes, and she started to turn, to flee! So I mustered my voice and said as loudly as I could without shouting, "I don't like you, you know!" I have a feeling that she had an inkling that I didn't like her--why else would she turn away and not greet me as a cheerful friend? Why does this bitch ask after me and my siblings to my Dad? Here's something else I would like to say to you but I'm not sure the opportunity will present itself: Stop asking about me, any of us, as if you are our friend. You're not. I don't like you, and I am pretty sure all my siblings could give two shits about you, especially after I have told them how you spoke to me. We used to like, hang out, me, you and Jennifer sun-tanning in your front yard? Was I so awful a person to you that you should seek me out to put me down? 

The only other conclusion that I can come to is this: you were always better friends with the guy who is my ex-husband than you were to me. And you must have come to some sort of conclusion about me using information from him. So let's all clear the air on this shit right now:

I know that he had people at Cracker Barrel fuck with me when I worked there. That was the beginning of the stalking and harassment. We had just split up and 'our' friend Danette worked there and he was sure that she could help me get on there. So I went. Then people started stealing my things, putting napkins in my coffee cup in the break room, letting the air out of my tires in the parking lot. I should have known better that to think that this man ever cared about me. After all, didn't he verbally, emotionally, financially, sexually, and, eventually, physically abuse me while being a raging alcoholic? Yup, he sure did. And you know what!?! I think it was Gisele Pelicot and her strength and perseverance that inspired me to not be ashamed of this shit anymore. So here goes. I have been gathering evidence for years now of all the people that this man has had stalking and harassing me. It never ends. It may not end after he drinks himself to death, but, I can only hope and wait for the day when he finally decides that it wasn't me that ruined his life, it was him! I think he married me because he thought that it was his ticket to whatever property or money (ha!) that I may ever inherit. I was his get-outta-jail free card and he just can't stand it that I didn't want to be with him anymore. It might have worked out if he had just grown the fuck up like I eventually did. But, alas, I could take no more of his shit, told him I didn't want to be married to him anymore and then, rather stupidly, had a fling with an old boyfriend just so I could tell him that it was truly over--because he had always said that that would be the only way he would ever let me go. Well, buddy, I got news for you, too. You're gonna have to move on with your life. Stop having your merry band of meth head friends, relatives, and people you 'know' stalk and harass me! This is a polite request. I don't really expect it to work, but good luck finding all the evidence that I have of all of this shit. Because if something bad, something suspicious, ever happens to me, it won't matter. We will all know who did it. 

I had a date with one of the seven dwarves--I didn't realize, until later, that it was Dopey, the former meth head who knew my ex. The dots connected. Suddenly the mix up with my meal made sense. The former dude that I had fucked briefly--those dots connected long ago, too, buddy and I gotta say: you're not very creative, smart, or good at keeping your fucking mouth shut. Good luck trying to get at me some more, I welcome the challenges. I can't wait to see what weirdo crack head approaches me next to be like, "Omg I bet you don't remember me, do you?" Buddy, I remember nearly everything in startling clarity, and I just don't care to know you anymore. It's just that I had tried turning a leaf and being polite and nice to people while I'm out--at the encouragement of my sister. Bless that woman, she's stronger than I ever thought about being--but I can't do it anymore. I told her as much as she doubled over with laughter, "Look, I really tried being nice to people but IM SICK OF IT! SICK OF IT!" I had been deep in the uncomfortable throes of an allergic reaction for weeks on end. It had helped turn the leaf back over to the other side; being a bitch was all I wanted to do--especially to those people who had chosen to be weirdly shitty to me, sometimes without even knowing me. All I have to say to all those participating in this situation: 

1) You suck, and I hope you know that. If you don't, you'd better start understanding it, it will make things make more sense for you if you realize that there are consequences to your actions. Karma might catch up with you when you least expect it. Or I might see you out and tell you that you suck myself. 

2) Bring it, bitch, because I'm just waiting. I'm ready now. Just don't dish it out if you can't take it.

3) Life has a way of dealing you the hand that you deserve, so try to consider that, at every point in your life. 

4) If you think that I'm going to just sit and take endless shit from a bunch of assholes without saying anything about it, I can assure you that you're wrong. 

I think that's it for now. Apparently, the assholes can read, and I hope that they use this skill to comprehend what I've said here. 

FIN.

Cruel to Be Kind -- Spacehog

Okay, guise, bear with me while I purposely regress for a moment in time, just because the path is not always straight, sometimes it curves and loops back on itself so that you can see the same lesson coming that you thought you had once faced and learned. Well, here it is: I can be a fucking bitch and I am owning it, fully, now. It's not that I have been hiding it, I have just been trying to be a kinder, more polite person, especially to people who don't know me. Well, after a few weeks of struggling with allergy shots, reactions, steroids, and all the associated bullshit, I GIVE THE FUCK UP! You want me to do something unkind? Make me. Be yourself so that I can tell you, to your face, that you suck, in public, where we all have freedom of speech. 

When I was leaving the doctor's office today, who did I see? It was Paula! That fucking cunt can't seem to get enough of me pretending she doesn't even exist at work, now she has to show up for some more! Only, this time, I was too busy to bother to yell, "You suck!" as I drove away, but I thought about it for a split second before deciding that it wasn't worth my time or energy.

And, truly, none of these fucking assholes are worth my time or the energy I would expend in seeking them out to tell them to their faces that they suck. They probably already know that, they're just afraid to admit it to themselves, let alone anyone else. And that's just gonna have to be ok. 

So, I'm just gonna lean into it from now on, be even more myself. I am not ashamed of who I am, the bitch that I can be, the kind person I know that I can also, equally, be, all that matters is that I am satisfied with who I am. The only opinion about me that matters is my own. The rest of you fucking assholes in the world can just fuck right off. Or not. Whatever. 

If me being like this is enough to incense a few feeble-minded bitches, then who am I to argue. Be a cunt, own that shit, but don't act surprised when I tell you that I think you suck and that I don't like your behavior! 

Also, ex-dudes out there in the world, fuck you, too! Don't send me any friend requests, because you're not my fucking friends! My only regret in this world is that a boy that I had a very weird relationship with didn't get the meanest version of me--Nicholas, buddy, if you're out there, I just gotta say this: You suck and I laughed and laughed and laughed when I heard that you finally received some consequences to your own actions. I'm sorry that you were too stupid to understand that what I "did" to you (by 'talking to you too much') was the very thing that you were doing to others! It came full circle, bud, and guess what!? My only regret is that I wasn't mean enough. And, while I'm on a roll, I want you to take a look around at everything that happens, and wonder, won't you, are these the consequences of my own decisions? You just might be surprised by the answer, assuming you're clever enough to figure it out!

Thanks for coming to my BethSquawk.

Your Song -- Ellie Goulding

"Looks like one just left the nest," Steven seemed to sum it up pretty perfectly. I had just gotten home Sunday evening, was pulling my shoes off. I had told him that I felt...something strange. I had big, new feelings that I'd never had before. We had just seen them off that evening, or was it afternoon? I had been up so long, running running running...It was all worth it, though, to see their beautiful faces as they each came up the aisle. Married.  

It seemed like only yesterday the kid was dyeing Easter eggs with her siblings at the table on the back porch. Monster eggs with silly googly eyes and bright colors. What a whirlwind of a weekend! What an amazing life we all have! And what a gift to be able to share it with one another in such happy times!

I might come back here occasionally to beat the hell out of a dead fucking horse, so to say, but what I truly live for is the here and now. I want to experience each moment of the remainder of my life fully. Be present fully, especially when these huge life events seem to be coming faster and faster as I go along. 

I remember what it was like as a child and thinking that time seemed to just drag by so slowly, especially when you were waiting for something you were excited about, as children often do. I also remember people telling me to enjoy it while I could. I wish I had listened, understood, and done a better job of being present all these years. I can't change the past, but I can be present for now and in the future. 

I have a feeling that this isn't the last time that I will experience some new feelings and I am happy to say that I am excited to see what else life brings. There will be many more gatherings of family in the future, many more times that I will be able to look around at the room and see everyone happy and loved. 

I don't know that I will ever have another moment where I am scrambling around the kitchen, cooking for a crowd, and then look up to see my Dad, my guy, and the ex-husband chilling at the same table. I even came out of the kitchen and over to the table to witness it up close. It was true and, though I had been too busy to notice at first, they seemed to be having a decent time. 

Sometimes life really does surprise you when you least expect it.