I’m having a rotten time right now, so I thought I’d whine on my blog. I tried talking to Sam and he just rolls his eyes and explains to me that I need to not worry about everything.
I’m being grumpy so don’t judge him. I probably need for someone to tell me to shut up, but you all are far away and reading this with your eyes and I won’t really hear you until later when I read comments. Randomly screaming at the screen from where you are will not impact me in the slightest.
First, a disclaimer. I am woefully sensitive. Horribly sensitive. As much as I pride myself on being an individual and having strong beliefs, I also want people to like me. Please. I want approval and love and friendship and kindness. I crave it. So along with my firm beliefs and weird quirks I’m super sensitive and crave affection. I’m too much. My mom told me when I was little that I was tenderhearted. I will give you everything I own, if I think someone is wronging you I will brainlessly jump into the fray to standup for you. I cry when I drive behind chicken trucks. I cry when I watch the news. I cry when I hear about someone hurting.
The truth: I don’t want anyone to hurt. EVER. Animals, babies, kids, people, strangers. The poor, the sick, the disenfranchised, people who don’t have an advocate. Aching, I wish and look for ways to help. I want to help. Honestly. Prayer, donating, volunteering, and working to instill values in my kids to be “helpers” is how I cope with the horrible realization that I am helpless to help everyone.
Now I do have a sharp tongue and more than enough snark. I do my best to save this for folks who “deserve it.” In other words, if you are mean to my friends, or kick a cat, or say something homophobic/racist/sexist/hateful then I will unleash the full wrath of my tongue. I will Oscar Wilde your ass so quick you won’t know what hit you.
1. I want to stand-up and speak my mind for what is right and to protect people who need love and support (like, everyone).
2. I want to be loved and accepted.
Can you see how these two can clash? How sometimes doing one thing sacrifices another. In the past week I’ve had the following things happen:
- I was called a name by someone I loved. It wasn’t totally unwarranted, but it hurt a lot because I thought that person was a safe person.
- I had a lady grab my shoulder and embarrass me in the middle of church because I was crocheting. Let me just say that this is a blue jean-wearing, coffee-drinking, rock-music playing church.
- Crochet lady then proceeded to email and facebook folks to apologize, but not really, saying her teen was staring at my yarn and she didn’t mean to hurt my feelings. I was embarrassed for more people knowing the details of the situation, but then more embarrassed that she was right: I was hurt and humiliated. All those eyes staring at me and the debilitating sense that I’d screwed up made me cry. Cry in the middle of church.
- I’ve been mocked about being vegetarian to the point of annoyance. No, we didn’t have a turkey and guess what? No one starved. I know folks are joking, but it was ALL THE TIME.
- I happened to disagree with the way our justice system worked (or didn’t work) in regards to the murder of Mike Brown. You can tell how I feel about it by my labeling it murder (because it was). I’m not going into the entire argument, but by posting two or three articles and expressing my sadness at a life ended I have become disgusted with several members of my church and alienated my child’s teacher at school. I was upset with church people making comments that “ISIS could clean up the streets,” that bricks were gift cards, and one person even wrote about “those people they be shooting up they town” (his words, totally). My kid’s teacher called me a racist against whites and made sure to tell me I’m ignorant at least a half-dozen times. Then another parent at the school piped up with tales of how black people really do commit more crimes… violent ones!!! I expressed my desire to remove Atticus from daycare so he won’t have a racist teacher next year and then I was told that I was stepping over a line. What. The. Hell?
Crying. I’m doing a lot of crying, because the world is broken and hurt and no one — even the people who are supposed to feel that hurt more acutely (teachers, cops, church folks) — cares that others are hurting. No one loves without malice. No one is willing to put their necks out for others. I did. And I wish I could say it felt good, but it just feels lonely. I’m lonely, angry, and deeply hurt.
So that’s my post-Thanksgiving post. I’m deleting Facebook after the holidays, I’m resigning a volunteer position at church, and I’m holded up in my Christmas decorated apartment, crying over dead young men, and holding my own babies.
Hey, let’s try to be nice to each other.