Happy New Year!!! Right. OK, let's be honest every year hundreds of thousands of thousands of us make "New Year's Resolutions"--things we think we want to do or not do in the next year, changes that we think we want to make to our lives, or just little nothings that sound good to us. I suppose there are always things we'd like to change. Of course, I'm pretty thankful usually for the things I can't change too. Everything happens for a reason, although frankly I'm not sure what those reasons are more often than not. So, generally I'm not a big fan of the new year's resolutions. I think if you really want to change anything you'll do it regardless of the time of year. Of course, if you read last year's new year's blog, I might be sounding like a broken record, EXCEPT this year I've decided to make something. I'm not calling them resolutions, more of promises to myself--since if I give my word, it's as good as gold. So, I'm giving my word to myself that I'm going to do some things for myself.
1. I'm going to quit being a "pack rat". Not completely, but the recent move has made me realize not just how much "stuff" I have but how much stuff I really don't need.
2. That promise has nothing to do with shoes or purses. A girl can never have too many cute shoes or purses.
3. I'm going to distance myself from difficult people. I know so much easier said than done, but I'm not talking about eliminating them from my life. I'm talking about just putting some distance, either real or metaphoric, between them and me. I have a couple of difficult friends. I love them all the same, but I just don't want to have their issues upsetting my apple cart. If they need me, I'll still be around. I just won't be hanging out with them regularly.
4. I'm going to the beach. I've been putting off a trip for a few years now for the most ridiculous reason. It's so ridiculous I'm not going to tell you why. I'm just going to the beach. Tropical, with rum runners, sun and fun.
5. I'm going to fall in love again. It's really easy to love, but being in love is something that makes us feel alive. The best part about being in love is that it connects us with our inner youth. It reminds us that we are still kids at heart. I think this is a good goal for anyone, whether married or with someone or single. If you're married and you don't think that you're in love anymore--figure out how to get back to it. If you're dating someone and it's not that fluttery butterfly feeling and it's not someone that you would forgive almost every transgression, then it's time to either cut that person loose or find it with that person. If you're single, then it's time to have that feeling again. I look back and I've only loved unconditionally once. If I'm honest, my ex did the one thing I would never forgive. Yet, I know that for one person I would've even forgiven that. Yep, I'm going to fall in love again.
6. I'm going to make at least one new great friend this year. Why not? I've made at least one good friend almost every year of my life. I've got some good friends that should be upgraded. I'm thinking that only one is probably a low goal. Maybe I'll make two or three great friends this year.
7. I'll not beat myself up over the things that other people do. The new job is definitely driving that message home. Sometimes the things that people do, they do it to themselves. I've always tried to help people find the right path. It's not really my responsibility and I get that. I'm not going to stop helping people because some people can't see the forest through the tree they have their noses crammed into. But I'm going to quit self depreciating because they don't want to do the right thing, they won't do the right thing or they simply choose to not do the right thing. Each of us creates our own crosses to bear. I don't have to help them bear crosses of their own makings.
Alrighty then. I was going to shoot for 10, but apparently I'm shooting for 7. I'll let you know how it goes next December.
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Monday, December 23, 2013
A reason for the season...
A couple of years ago, at a Christmas party that was like a Secret Santa party--only you knew who had pulled your name, the gift I received was a large coffee/soup cup. On the outside of the cup, it said "Cup of Courage". I found it a tad ironic at the time. I was under attack by part of the group that was part of that Christmas party. I had bucked the system of theft and had confronted the guilty. It had not gone well for me. The majority of the group, while upset to find out it was going on, was unwilling to confront the situation--even with someone willing to step up. I understood what the gift meant, but I think at this time of the year many people need to remember what Courage is. Courage is not doing what everyone else does. Courage is doing what is right, even when it will not likely end in the result that you desire. I remember sermons growing up at Christmas time. I don't pretend to be Christian anymore, although I still follow some of Christ's teachings. I'll not debate whether the Bible contradicts itself--we all know it does. All Christians therefore do have to "pick and choose" which parts of the Bible they choose to regard and which they choose to disregard. All of that would be for another blog, if I ever were to choose to write about it. But I do remember what I was taught, the parts that we focused on. Acceptance, "judge not less ye be judged yourself", and courage to do the right thing. Courage.
My youngest son "came out" at the end of the summer. He broke up with his girlfriend of two years, a wonderful young lady who he describes as his "first true love". He even fears that she may be "the one" and what kind of cruel joke that might be. His father is still having issues with it, and although I am supportive, I'll be honest that I am a little disappointed. Not because he is gay, but because when I met his girlfriend two years ago, I truly thought my son had been lucky enough to meet his "soulmate" at 14 years old. How many of us can say that? When he told me, shortly before he told his girlfriend, I was devastated. For all the reasons a mother might be--it's not an easy decision, some people are ugly about it, and of course, his "soulmate" was not going to be his girlfriend. He loved her more than anyone he's ever been with, but he simply wasn't physically attracted to her. Ironic, since she is the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen. I mean magazine model material physically and just the most wonderful, intelligent, sweet personality--beautiful, inside and out. He just didn't think it would be fair to her. She deserved someone that loves her for not just who she is, not just romantically--as he explained, but who loves her for all she is. I couldn't argue that logic. My baby, in spite of what he thought might be a cruel joke, thought she deserved the whole package and of course had decided that he could never give her that. Neither he or she should have to "settle". The courage to admit that to me, to his father who is very anti-gay and kind of an *sshole (ok, granted my opinion although shared by some), and face the fact that it's not always accepted, let alone how many in his father's family view it...well, I am proud of him, of the courage it took to admit where he is at, and possibly at the cost of his best friend and his first true love. Since I'm no longer Christian as I do not practice it and I believe in reincarnation, I often think things like this are simply learning experiences. Perhaps, she is truly his soulmate and whatever cruel joke is a lesson to be learned. Or perhaps this a previous mistake in some other life just rectifying itself.
Most know from my blog that we recently moved "home" and my son told me that at his new school there is a young man that is openly "flaming" as he put it. A young man, who apparently says racially inappropriate things, also says inappropriate things about this young "flaming" man. My son pointed out to the kid that it takes courage to decide to be openly gay and just be himself. The inappropriate kid didn't get it. He thought it was "intellectual". Intellect has nothing to do with who we are emotionally. If it did, then the smartest people we know would be the most extroverted. The most intellectually capable are usually quite the reverse. Even those intellectuals that are "extroverted" are usually extremely guarded. I compartmentalize. I blend with any group, and I'm often painfully aware that some of the groups that I blend with would not want to blend, let alone spend time with, other groups that I hang out with. It's sometimes like high school. In high school, I hung out with "jocks", "burn-outs/potheads", "band geeks", "outcasts", "punkers", et cetera. I didn't care about race, whether someone was "smart" or not, or whatever. What I cared about what was inside, what the heart was like. I often gave people the benefit of the doubt to do the right thing. I have no qualms with saying that many people often didn't do the right thing. Back when I was younger, there was no way this "flaming" young man could even try to show the courage that he has. My son has shown his support, not because he's openly gay--he tells who he chooses to, but because of the courage that it takes to be who we are. This young man has accepted that he is a flamboyant person and gay and it's important this time of year that we start to appreciate that amount of courage. It's the time to open our hearts and minds to people that are different and reduce the amount of courage required to be ourselves.
Everyone knows there's been a lash out of both support and criticism for a 67 years old man, a "redneck" from the Louisiana backwoods who expressed his opinion about homosexuality. I hate to say this because of the potential backlash. (OK, I'm full of sh*t. Backlash all you want.) But, the truth is that he has the right to his opinion. In this day and age, saying anything that isn't "politically correct" can result in such a fascist response, even from the people that purport themselves to be the "open minded". It's an opinion of a 67 year old man who was raised what Christians have been raised to believe for centuries. For Christ's sake. He's entitled to his opinion, and frankly in this day and age it's just as courageous to be able to say your opinion at all. Ironically, at 67 years old, we almost all have more courage to just say what we think and what we mean. As we get older, we realize that it's even less important to tread lightly around people. I've often heard friends say that their grandparents or parents just speak their minds. Yes. I don't find that surprising at all. My Grams told me that she often wished that she had just spoke her mind when she was younger. People would be more evolved if they would simply stand up and say what they mean. Verbal exchange is what changes the world. Keeping it to yourself, especially when you disagree, simply allows the behavior to continue. When I faced the backlash of confronting people that were stealing, no one else said a word. Maybe one or two to others that they knew supported my calling it out, but to the hoard, no. They wanted it to stop, verbalized support to me, but often refused to "get into it" with people that they knew disagreed. The courage eluded them to even say what they believed. The opposite of courage is cowardice. Courage is doing the right thing, saying what you mean and standing by it. While I might disagree with the 67 years old man, I applaud his courage to speak his opinion in spite of backlash. For those that would judge that courage, I ask you to think about who is talking here. "Consider the source," my Grams would say. The source is a man who in spite of what he believes also said he believes ONLY God can judge. He's not some backwoods redneck from the Bayou just running his trap. He's an old man, who actually probably is more broader minded than those that are running around condemning him. He spoke his mind, opening up dialogue, and he probably was raised to condemn homosexuality but has accepted that only God can judge. Those that condemn his courage are the ones to worry about. Hypocrisy and cowardice are what come out of the woodwork when courage rears its head.
Someone asked me since I moved home, why I left. Most of my friends know there were multiple reasons. The truth is for all my strength we all face those things that test our resolve. Our ability to stand our ground. I waited for two years after I graduated Clemson. Then realized that I was waiting for nothing, and figured that I needed to move on. It wasn't courage to run away. It was a logical thing to do. It had nothing to do with courage. Like I stated indirectly earlier, intellect and courage are not one in the same. I had logicked that the only way to deal with a situation was to walk away, and I let a coward chase me from the one place that I had ever considered home. This coward had abused the hell out of me, and when it looked like my life had any chance of happiness that same coward chose to intimidate the one person that had what he had not. My heart. We can debate whether the heart was misplaced, but I make no qualms with friends about the fact that I gave it away and never got it back. I thought it would catch up with me, but then I realized that my own cowardice--running away from the problem--had made it so that I couldn't have it back. Whether the man who was intimated by the coward that beat the crap out of me should've had it in the first place is all up for debate. He is probably the only one that knows the answer to that. Most of my friends have a lot of sympathy for the guy that was dating me, because it became a very complicated situation. I was simply going to have this coward follow me around, even after he married someone else, making me miserable if he could have his way. I know in retrospect that if his new wife knew he'd have been in a world of sh*t. Coming home, I was confronted with the loss again. Honestly, the first time I had to deal with him--it's a small town after all--was not easy. I wanted to bash his head in. His wife is a friend and she really loves him. I still really wanted to bash his head in. He's not worth it; he never was. That's why he never got my heart. And, ironically, that's also why he made the other guy so miserable. At the time, he couldn't accept that my heart followed this other guy around like a puppy dog. Jealousy and cowardice are often hand and foot, and instead of having the courage to stand up for myself I ran away.
Courage is often something that we recognize in battle, but we don't think of in the day to day. I often think when someone talks of courage of the story in the Bible of Jesus stepping in the way of a crowd stoning a woman for being a whore. How many of us would step in the way? An NBC show "What would you do?" had an example of a grocery store customer berating a mentally handicapped person in front of other customers. So few of the people said anything. I see those bracelets on people--WWJD--and look at them as they knock into someone and don't mutter even an "excuse me", let alone an apology, and wonder do they even know that story from the Bible. My Grams said that she only rented her and my grandfather's rentals to "good Christian black families". Yes, well maybe she said negro, but it was in her experience they took better care of the property. Was it true? I don't know. I would expect outrage if it came out of my mouth, but I was born in 1968 not 1908. If she was alive, I wouldn't expect her wording to change much. It was appropriate for her day and age. In fact, it was courage in her day and age to say that she would only rent to black families. I heard people criticize her when I was little. For a 67 years old man, it was probably courage to say he thinks only God can judge people that are homosexual considering his generation. It is still courageous to come out and openly be gay in high school. It is still courageous to stand up and do the right thing in spite of the hoards being in opposition. It is still courageous to finally stand up and say "enough". In fact, sometimes, it's harder to say "enough" after a long time has passed. After over a decade, it wasn't easier to say that the Nazis had been wrong and committed unthinkable atrocities. Sometimes, courage is just as simple as being able to say to yourself that you ran away and it's time to go home. None of us know our own courage until we step up and face whatever it is that has put us in our place. Inside that cup that I received a couple years ago: "Strength comes from within." Sometimes it lies in wait within until we can stand it no more. Say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, but remember to appreciate those things that you are willing to stand up for and maybe show the courage to stand up for those things that you know you should've in the first place.
My youngest son "came out" at the end of the summer. He broke up with his girlfriend of two years, a wonderful young lady who he describes as his "first true love". He even fears that she may be "the one" and what kind of cruel joke that might be. His father is still having issues with it, and although I am supportive, I'll be honest that I am a little disappointed. Not because he is gay, but because when I met his girlfriend two years ago, I truly thought my son had been lucky enough to meet his "soulmate" at 14 years old. How many of us can say that? When he told me, shortly before he told his girlfriend, I was devastated. For all the reasons a mother might be--it's not an easy decision, some people are ugly about it, and of course, his "soulmate" was not going to be his girlfriend. He loved her more than anyone he's ever been with, but he simply wasn't physically attracted to her. Ironic, since she is the most beautiful young woman I have ever seen. I mean magazine model material physically and just the most wonderful, intelligent, sweet personality--beautiful, inside and out. He just didn't think it would be fair to her. She deserved someone that loves her for not just who she is, not just romantically--as he explained, but who loves her for all she is. I couldn't argue that logic. My baby, in spite of what he thought might be a cruel joke, thought she deserved the whole package and of course had decided that he could never give her that. Neither he or she should have to "settle". The courage to admit that to me, to his father who is very anti-gay and kind of an *sshole (ok, granted my opinion although shared by some), and face the fact that it's not always accepted, let alone how many in his father's family view it...well, I am proud of him, of the courage it took to admit where he is at, and possibly at the cost of his best friend and his first true love. Since I'm no longer Christian as I do not practice it and I believe in reincarnation, I often think things like this are simply learning experiences. Perhaps, she is truly his soulmate and whatever cruel joke is a lesson to be learned. Or perhaps this a previous mistake in some other life just rectifying itself.
Most know from my blog that we recently moved "home" and my son told me that at his new school there is a young man that is openly "flaming" as he put it. A young man, who apparently says racially inappropriate things, also says inappropriate things about this young "flaming" man. My son pointed out to the kid that it takes courage to decide to be openly gay and just be himself. The inappropriate kid didn't get it. He thought it was "intellectual". Intellect has nothing to do with who we are emotionally. If it did, then the smartest people we know would be the most extroverted. The most intellectually capable are usually quite the reverse. Even those intellectuals that are "extroverted" are usually extremely guarded. I compartmentalize. I blend with any group, and I'm often painfully aware that some of the groups that I blend with would not want to blend, let alone spend time with, other groups that I hang out with. It's sometimes like high school. In high school, I hung out with "jocks", "burn-outs/potheads", "band geeks", "outcasts", "punkers", et cetera. I didn't care about race, whether someone was "smart" or not, or whatever. What I cared about what was inside, what the heart was like. I often gave people the benefit of the doubt to do the right thing. I have no qualms with saying that many people often didn't do the right thing. Back when I was younger, there was no way this "flaming" young man could even try to show the courage that he has. My son has shown his support, not because he's openly gay--he tells who he chooses to, but because of the courage that it takes to be who we are. This young man has accepted that he is a flamboyant person and gay and it's important this time of year that we start to appreciate that amount of courage. It's the time to open our hearts and minds to people that are different and reduce the amount of courage required to be ourselves.
Everyone knows there's been a lash out of both support and criticism for a 67 years old man, a "redneck" from the Louisiana backwoods who expressed his opinion about homosexuality. I hate to say this because of the potential backlash. (OK, I'm full of sh*t. Backlash all you want.) But, the truth is that he has the right to his opinion. In this day and age, saying anything that isn't "politically correct" can result in such a fascist response, even from the people that purport themselves to be the "open minded". It's an opinion of a 67 year old man who was raised what Christians have been raised to believe for centuries. For Christ's sake. He's entitled to his opinion, and frankly in this day and age it's just as courageous to be able to say your opinion at all. Ironically, at 67 years old, we almost all have more courage to just say what we think and what we mean. As we get older, we realize that it's even less important to tread lightly around people. I've often heard friends say that their grandparents or parents just speak their minds. Yes. I don't find that surprising at all. My Grams told me that she often wished that she had just spoke her mind when she was younger. People would be more evolved if they would simply stand up and say what they mean. Verbal exchange is what changes the world. Keeping it to yourself, especially when you disagree, simply allows the behavior to continue. When I faced the backlash of confronting people that were stealing, no one else said a word. Maybe one or two to others that they knew supported my calling it out, but to the hoard, no. They wanted it to stop, verbalized support to me, but often refused to "get into it" with people that they knew disagreed. The courage eluded them to even say what they believed. The opposite of courage is cowardice. Courage is doing the right thing, saying what you mean and standing by it. While I might disagree with the 67 years old man, I applaud his courage to speak his opinion in spite of backlash. For those that would judge that courage, I ask you to think about who is talking here. "Consider the source," my Grams would say. The source is a man who in spite of what he believes also said he believes ONLY God can judge. He's not some backwoods redneck from the Bayou just running his trap. He's an old man, who actually probably is more broader minded than those that are running around condemning him. He spoke his mind, opening up dialogue, and he probably was raised to condemn homosexuality but has accepted that only God can judge. Those that condemn his courage are the ones to worry about. Hypocrisy and cowardice are what come out of the woodwork when courage rears its head.
Someone asked me since I moved home, why I left. Most of my friends know there were multiple reasons. The truth is for all my strength we all face those things that test our resolve. Our ability to stand our ground. I waited for two years after I graduated Clemson. Then realized that I was waiting for nothing, and figured that I needed to move on. It wasn't courage to run away. It was a logical thing to do. It had nothing to do with courage. Like I stated indirectly earlier, intellect and courage are not one in the same. I had logicked that the only way to deal with a situation was to walk away, and I let a coward chase me from the one place that I had ever considered home. This coward had abused the hell out of me, and when it looked like my life had any chance of happiness that same coward chose to intimidate the one person that had what he had not. My heart. We can debate whether the heart was misplaced, but I make no qualms with friends about the fact that I gave it away and never got it back. I thought it would catch up with me, but then I realized that my own cowardice--running away from the problem--had made it so that I couldn't have it back. Whether the man who was intimated by the coward that beat the crap out of me should've had it in the first place is all up for debate. He is probably the only one that knows the answer to that. Most of my friends have a lot of sympathy for the guy that was dating me, because it became a very complicated situation. I was simply going to have this coward follow me around, even after he married someone else, making me miserable if he could have his way. I know in retrospect that if his new wife knew he'd have been in a world of sh*t. Coming home, I was confronted with the loss again. Honestly, the first time I had to deal with him--it's a small town after all--was not easy. I wanted to bash his head in. His wife is a friend and she really loves him. I still really wanted to bash his head in. He's not worth it; he never was. That's why he never got my heart. And, ironically, that's also why he made the other guy so miserable. At the time, he couldn't accept that my heart followed this other guy around like a puppy dog. Jealousy and cowardice are often hand and foot, and instead of having the courage to stand up for myself I ran away.
Courage is often something that we recognize in battle, but we don't think of in the day to day. I often think when someone talks of courage of the story in the Bible of Jesus stepping in the way of a crowd stoning a woman for being a whore. How many of us would step in the way? An NBC show "What would you do?" had an example of a grocery store customer berating a mentally handicapped person in front of other customers. So few of the people said anything. I see those bracelets on people--WWJD--and look at them as they knock into someone and don't mutter even an "excuse me", let alone an apology, and wonder do they even know that story from the Bible. My Grams said that she only rented her and my grandfather's rentals to "good Christian black families". Yes, well maybe she said negro, but it was in her experience they took better care of the property. Was it true? I don't know. I would expect outrage if it came out of my mouth, but I was born in 1968 not 1908. If she was alive, I wouldn't expect her wording to change much. It was appropriate for her day and age. In fact, it was courage in her day and age to say that she would only rent to black families. I heard people criticize her when I was little. For a 67 years old man, it was probably courage to say he thinks only God can judge people that are homosexual considering his generation. It is still courageous to come out and openly be gay in high school. It is still courageous to stand up and do the right thing in spite of the hoards being in opposition. It is still courageous to finally stand up and say "enough". In fact, sometimes, it's harder to say "enough" after a long time has passed. After over a decade, it wasn't easier to say that the Nazis had been wrong and committed unthinkable atrocities. Sometimes, courage is just as simple as being able to say to yourself that you ran away and it's time to go home. None of us know our own courage until we step up and face whatever it is that has put us in our place. Inside that cup that I received a couple years ago: "Strength comes from within." Sometimes it lies in wait within until we can stand it no more. Say Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays, but remember to appreciate those things that you are willing to stand up for and maybe show the courage to stand up for those things that you know you should've in the first place.
Saturday, December 21, 2013
We Live in Our Own Heads
I'm not one to say that I am "happy" or "unhappy". Suffice to say, I think most people either accept that they are a glass half full type or a glass half empty type. I suppose that's not much to most people. "Happy" people tend to be those that are glass half full types. "Unhappy" people in contradiction tend to be glass half empty types. I know that's an awfully simplified point of view, but it's true. More importantly, we will never be able to make a "happy" person from an "unhappy" person, because truly the only people that can fix that are the unhappy people themselves. Then it comes down to choosing to have those people in our lives or not. I know this sounds pretty deep for a Saturday morning. But that really is what it comes down to. I have friends that are dealing with "bad" times, and no one understands how difficult the holidays can be for some people than me. So when a friend was going on about how "bad" things were, bitching about her sister and her brother, how much she didn't get along with her brother, lamenting that she isn't more like her mother because her mother is to her a very fun person, and making negative comments about where she lives, her decision to refinance, et cetera, I just listened. I tried in my usual fashion to make light--a couple of ugly sweaters went by, pointing out people that were just having fun, and when someone she knew walked in, I thought that might lighten her load on her mind a little. If that's what happened, then this wouldn't be a blog, now would it?
After going to the bathroom, she was demanding why I wouldn't have another beer. I was the designated driver and while I had one and planned on maybe two or three through the night, I knew very well this weekend isn't the best time to be out drinking. Next weekend will be worse. Besides, she had been going on and on about how her job would be in jeopardy if she drank and drove--in spite of her driving drunk the night before across the county because a friend told her she "had to" stay on the couch. I wasn't sure why if that was supposedly her plan in the first place that she would deviate from that plan just because someone "insisted", but I figured this is more about the fact that the holidays aren't really easy for anyone. Then out of the blue, she tells me that I'm not a happy person and that I'm acting miserable. OK, just because I wasn't drinking, I was a miserable person. I wasn't drinking because I had designated myself as the driver for the night, because of her job and her going on and on about how she could lose her job, and because she lived on the complete opposite side of town. Oh, and I damn well didn't feel like it. Simple. Sometimes, I just don't feel like drinking but a beer or two. I've never really had friends make a big deal out of it. Hell, I'm pretty sure most don't even notice it. I asked her if she had a cigarette when she went to the bathroom--thinking maybe she was edgy because she couldn't smoke where we were at. She went to smoke and I just recentered. Figured we'd start a different conversation. When she got back that lasted all of two minutes. She started in on whether I danced, "cut loose' and ever enjoyed myself. Wow. Then insisted that I should probably have a beer if I couldn't have fun any other way. Again, wow. Now, anyone that knows me fairly well, knows I don't take verbal abuse anymore. Period. I asked her to clarify her thoughts. She told me that she had gone through all my Facebook pictures recently and I always look so happy. Well, yea, I thought, I make the best of any situation. So she didn't understand why I wasn't having fun with her. Why I wasn't going to drink and "cut loose". Wow. I explained that I used to go out dancing all night and most of the time only had a couple of drinks because when I was going to school I really couldn't afford to go out "drinking". I'd be out on the dance floor from 8 pm to 5 am and drink water most of the night. Well, that wasn't really possible to her.
OK, I asked her if she realized that she was projecting. What was projecting? Projecting I explained was when someone thinks something about themselves and forces that view of themselves onto someone else. She didn't follow. I told her I don't need to drink to have fun with my friends--it's fun, don't get me wrong. But, I knew she would have issues with work and I volunteered to be DD and was fine with it. I had to drive her across town when we were done and then drive back in the opposite direction home. I just would prefer not to on the Friday before Christmas. Plus, I had been out with friends the night before and I knew I have a Christmas party tonight. I just didn't feel like overloading myself over the holidays, so I was fine having fun with her and letting her "cut loose". She insisted that I look so happy all the time and why not right now...*sigh*. At that moment, a really good friend of mine walked over and gave me a big hug. I talked with him and she stormed off. Sent me a text that she had a ride home and left. I ended up having a good time with other friends because I wasn't going to go home when I wasn't tired, but I still only had a couple beers that my friend insisted on buying me over the next couple of hours. I didn't want more and none of my friends that I ended up with for the rest of the evening "insisted" that I drink.
What I've noticed over the last five years is that there are a lot of "miserable" people that don't really realize that they are so unhappy, and that most of them project those emotions onto other people. Most people, like this friend of mine, simply do not want to admit they aren't happy with things. I knew I was unhappy in Kansas, but I also had a reason to my madness. I wanted my kids to stay in the same school through high school. I had failed my oldest. I have since failed my youngest. My middle son will be the only one that graduates from the same high school as he started. I knew I wasn't happy, but I knew that there was a light at the end of the tunnel too. I had already told my boys I would move back to the South, preferably South Carolina's Upstate, after they graduated. I had a plan, and I made the most of what I did have. I cut the people that projected their misery out of my life pretty much entirely. I kept the good friends and distanced myself from the ones that acted like this friend did. It was hard enough being in a place that I didn't want to be surrounded by people that were happy--let alone with people that were miserable schmucks.
I know this friend is a "survivor". A strong person who has survived some hardships that might have crushed others. She's not the only one. I know lots of "survivors". I myself am one. But none of us are the "only one". Hardships that don't break us don't always leave us in the best place. Yet, there seems to be a big difference between her and I. My hardships are gone. Life lessons that I just have to chalk up as fate, God, signs, something, leaving me with a brighter light, tested metal now finely polished into a fine saber. Others, like her, the life lessons have taken a toll, drowned them each time a little more, the tested metal just as sharpened but hardened and the malleability gone--more likely to snap at any added pressure. I've been there--we all have been. The difference is that some of us choose to be beacons and others choose to create crutches, project our own issues on others, and live embittered. I don't have the answer why one way or the other. I have made choices myself sometimes that have made me unhappy for some greater good. I'm not the one to judge. But if that greater good is for an eternity, then something is wrong. There should always be a light at the end of the tunnel. My light was coming back to where I knew I belonged, regardless of the reasoning I had to be elsewhere. Maybe my friend simply hasn't found her light at the end of the tunnel.
For those of my friends and readers that have wondered if they are happy or just pretending to be, think about how you view yourself when you look in the mirror. We all are the most conscious of our own flaws. Then look at how you view others. This friend said I look happy in every picture. They didn't nickname me "Happychick" because I'm not a happy chick. How come I'm not happy with her? That is projecting at its best. It's not that I'm not happy with her; it's that she's not happy and therefore it doesn't make sense why not her. I get it. It's hard to see the forest when you're standing with your nose right on a tree trunk. But if you are wondering something like that, then there's a reason and the reason hasn't got anything to do with the person you're mad at, jealous of, or upset with. The issue is yours and no matter how happy that other person is they're not going to be able to fix you. She wants to be happy, so she wants to be as happy as she sees me being. I can't make her happy. Only she can figure that out. We live in our own heads and no matter how much we think someone else can fix us the only person that can fix us is ourselves.
After going to the bathroom, she was demanding why I wouldn't have another beer. I was the designated driver and while I had one and planned on maybe two or three through the night, I knew very well this weekend isn't the best time to be out drinking. Next weekend will be worse. Besides, she had been going on and on about how her job would be in jeopardy if she drank and drove--in spite of her driving drunk the night before across the county because a friend told her she "had to" stay on the couch. I wasn't sure why if that was supposedly her plan in the first place that she would deviate from that plan just because someone "insisted", but I figured this is more about the fact that the holidays aren't really easy for anyone. Then out of the blue, she tells me that I'm not a happy person and that I'm acting miserable. OK, just because I wasn't drinking, I was a miserable person. I wasn't drinking because I had designated myself as the driver for the night, because of her job and her going on and on about how she could lose her job, and because she lived on the complete opposite side of town. Oh, and I damn well didn't feel like it. Simple. Sometimes, I just don't feel like drinking but a beer or two. I've never really had friends make a big deal out of it. Hell, I'm pretty sure most don't even notice it. I asked her if she had a cigarette when she went to the bathroom--thinking maybe she was edgy because she couldn't smoke where we were at. She went to smoke and I just recentered. Figured we'd start a different conversation. When she got back that lasted all of two minutes. She started in on whether I danced, "cut loose' and ever enjoyed myself. Wow. Then insisted that I should probably have a beer if I couldn't have fun any other way. Again, wow. Now, anyone that knows me fairly well, knows I don't take verbal abuse anymore. Period. I asked her to clarify her thoughts. She told me that she had gone through all my Facebook pictures recently and I always look so happy. Well, yea, I thought, I make the best of any situation. So she didn't understand why I wasn't having fun with her. Why I wasn't going to drink and "cut loose". Wow. I explained that I used to go out dancing all night and most of the time only had a couple of drinks because when I was going to school I really couldn't afford to go out "drinking". I'd be out on the dance floor from 8 pm to 5 am and drink water most of the night. Well, that wasn't really possible to her.
OK, I asked her if she realized that she was projecting. What was projecting? Projecting I explained was when someone thinks something about themselves and forces that view of themselves onto someone else. She didn't follow. I told her I don't need to drink to have fun with my friends--it's fun, don't get me wrong. But, I knew she would have issues with work and I volunteered to be DD and was fine with it. I had to drive her across town when we were done and then drive back in the opposite direction home. I just would prefer not to on the Friday before Christmas. Plus, I had been out with friends the night before and I knew I have a Christmas party tonight. I just didn't feel like overloading myself over the holidays, so I was fine having fun with her and letting her "cut loose". She insisted that I look so happy all the time and why not right now...*sigh*. At that moment, a really good friend of mine walked over and gave me a big hug. I talked with him and she stormed off. Sent me a text that she had a ride home and left. I ended up having a good time with other friends because I wasn't going to go home when I wasn't tired, but I still only had a couple beers that my friend insisted on buying me over the next couple of hours. I didn't want more and none of my friends that I ended up with for the rest of the evening "insisted" that I drink.
What I've noticed over the last five years is that there are a lot of "miserable" people that don't really realize that they are so unhappy, and that most of them project those emotions onto other people. Most people, like this friend of mine, simply do not want to admit they aren't happy with things. I knew I was unhappy in Kansas, but I also had a reason to my madness. I wanted my kids to stay in the same school through high school. I had failed my oldest. I have since failed my youngest. My middle son will be the only one that graduates from the same high school as he started. I knew I wasn't happy, but I knew that there was a light at the end of the tunnel too. I had already told my boys I would move back to the South, preferably South Carolina's Upstate, after they graduated. I had a plan, and I made the most of what I did have. I cut the people that projected their misery out of my life pretty much entirely. I kept the good friends and distanced myself from the ones that acted like this friend did. It was hard enough being in a place that I didn't want to be surrounded by people that were happy--let alone with people that were miserable schmucks.
I know this friend is a "survivor". A strong person who has survived some hardships that might have crushed others. She's not the only one. I know lots of "survivors". I myself am one. But none of us are the "only one". Hardships that don't break us don't always leave us in the best place. Yet, there seems to be a big difference between her and I. My hardships are gone. Life lessons that I just have to chalk up as fate, God, signs, something, leaving me with a brighter light, tested metal now finely polished into a fine saber. Others, like her, the life lessons have taken a toll, drowned them each time a little more, the tested metal just as sharpened but hardened and the malleability gone--more likely to snap at any added pressure. I've been there--we all have been. The difference is that some of us choose to be beacons and others choose to create crutches, project our own issues on others, and live embittered. I don't have the answer why one way or the other. I have made choices myself sometimes that have made me unhappy for some greater good. I'm not the one to judge. But if that greater good is for an eternity, then something is wrong. There should always be a light at the end of the tunnel. My light was coming back to where I knew I belonged, regardless of the reasoning I had to be elsewhere. Maybe my friend simply hasn't found her light at the end of the tunnel.
For those of my friends and readers that have wondered if they are happy or just pretending to be, think about how you view yourself when you look in the mirror. We all are the most conscious of our own flaws. Then look at how you view others. This friend said I look happy in every picture. They didn't nickname me "Happychick" because I'm not a happy chick. How come I'm not happy with her? That is projecting at its best. It's not that I'm not happy with her; it's that she's not happy and therefore it doesn't make sense why not her. I get it. It's hard to see the forest when you're standing with your nose right on a tree trunk. But if you are wondering something like that, then there's a reason and the reason hasn't got anything to do with the person you're mad at, jealous of, or upset with. The issue is yours and no matter how happy that other person is they're not going to be able to fix you. She wants to be happy, so she wants to be as happy as she sees me being. I can't make her happy. Only she can figure that out. We live in our own heads and no matter how much we think someone else can fix us the only person that can fix us is ourselves.
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