The truth hurts.

1974 Vintage (Tattered) Holly Hobbie Doll

So I'm listening to Taylor Swift on repeat. It's a beautiful thing. I don't know why I get hooked on stuff, but she is definitely my current fave. I'm also hooked on having lots of thinking time. 108 degrees will do that to a person. Don't you wish that thinking actually helped a person? That somehow we could think our way out of problems? But no. It doesn't work that way. We have to talk, communicate with others. We have to be in relationships with other people, and that's where it gets tricky.

Yesterday, I received a lovely email from a relative telling me what a terrible person/daughter I am, etc, etc. Now, unless you begin to fret, I'll let you in on a secret: I've received at least a hundred of these things in my lifetime, and do not intend to have a freak-out on account of other people's misplaced anxiety. That being said, 100 of these nasty things can make a girl tired, and in 108 degrees, just done. So, even though I usually throw them away and move on with my day, this one stuck with me, as they tend to do every so often. And in a rare moment of clarity and temperance, I responded.

Nasty emails should not always be responded to. I find that filtering my email (along with various other accounts), allows me to completely avoid the nastiness that other people like to send my way. But sometimes the truth is necessary, and needs to be said. And you know what? Oftentimes the truth hurts, because the truth often just sucks. And that's just the truth.

But use with discretion, like alcohol.

"The Grape Harvest"

Based on a mosaic of a Millard Sheets piece in Southern California

After a party last night, I'm in a weird place in my head. I spent some time this afternoon wrapped up in my hammock. My friend helped me put it up this morning. Everything is better with my hammock up in a tree. How have I gone five years without it?

I'm having this sudden insecurity brought on by the online dating thing. Suddenly it matters what I say and what I do, and how others perceive me. It's why I'm so bad at interviews, but great at my job. There's something inside me that just shuts down when I know I'm being watched and judged. I wish there were a cure, but there isn't. It's a big part of who I am, and a large reason I put forward a strong sense of self most of the time. I'm afraid of being watched and being found wanting.

So I recycle things that have been discarded by their previous owners. In doing that, I challenge the world to tell me that it's trash. I don't believe it's trash, so how can you? I approach myself in the same way. I'm a bad ass. I dare you to say otherwise. Most of the time, I'm okay. But it's also why I haven't interviewed in over a year. It's my ultimate fear so I find every way I can to avoid it. But now I'm in a place (back to dating again) where I don't want to be avoidant. I want to put myself out there. But the fear is palpable, and in some ways, paralyzing.

I'm going to have a talk with myself right now, see if we can get this all sorted out.

Peace out.

A challenging task

 

I am not feeling so great about myself right now. I feel like people are judging me for having a masters degree and not having a solid plan for my life. And these aren't imaginary people - these are people I love! So I'm sitting here trying to convince myself that somehow it's more important to be myself than it is to be who other people expect me to be, even when those people are the people I love most in the world. That's a challenging task.

In school, I had a teacher who scared me, and no matter how much time I spent with this person, I never felt truly accepted. I felt small, and insignificant; not enough. As time went by, I realized that even though I respected this person more than I respected myself, I had to let go of the need to be accepted by them. In order to maintain my own sanity, I had to throw away the idea that my identity somehow hinged on their perception of me, even though that perception was super important to how I saw myself as a person and professional.

So now to be faced with that same dilemma in any form is only a stiff reminder of how important it is to love myself first. I will crumble if I allow an imagined perception of someone else's judgement to determine who I am, even though my faith tells me that other people are more important than me.

Sometimes, I eat milk chocolate

 

This recent post by Katy over at "The Non-Consumer Advocate" got some heated responses, so much so that she shut down commentary on the post.

I myself have been the recipient of some pretty nasty online communication. It hurts when people are rude because they can be, instead of assuming the best and perhaps beginning some dialogue about their "negative" feelings. I think that people on Katy's blog were generally able to say how they felt, and the conversation was cordial and honest.

I talk about online manners a lot because I work online. Very, very rarely do I get to meet a customer face-to-face, or a reader for that matter, and I have learned time and again how important it is to be literal in one's communication, and kind above all else. Sometimes, it is even appropriate to anticipate problems and address them before they happen.

I admit that this week, I did not respond well to an online overreaction. I was curt and annoyed when someone took offense at something that was in-no-way meant to be offensive. But in the end, I am only reminded that I am also human, and often fail. Sometimes, I eat milk chocolate.

Bootstraps, anyone?

 

This story kills me.

People offer us love, and we deny it. People offer us help, aid, and we throw it away, saying we'd rather find it ourselves. I have an image of a toddler in my head, practicing the art of independence-"Do it myself!"

There's a TED talk on vulnerability I'd like to watch today and perhaps respond to tomorrow.

Sometimes I say "yes", when I want to say "no", not because "no" is the right answer, but because I know that I am resisting the love of another person, wanting to avoid attachment. Sometimes we need to accept the love that is offered to us, even if it comes in a form that is unpleasant (e.g. I give my neighbors meat even though I don't believe I should; I buy Hershey chocolate because the man that put up my shelves asked for it, even though I believe that they practice slavery). Sometimes I think we need to take more time to make decisions. Sometimes those decisions will end up bringing us closer together.

And we need eachother. Life is tough, remember?

Sometimes you're not enough

I just turned in a course reading log; it was terrible and I am ashamed of it.

The log was just supposed to be an honest representation of what was actually read. So I was honest, and it wasn't pretty. This class is at the bottom of my priority list, not because it isn't important, but because it isn't as important as my physical health, my emotional health, the quality of my work, paying my bills, making sure I have all of my medication, making sure I have enough food to eat, getting sufficient exercise, or getting sufficient rest and sleep.

Honestly, this semester, the quality of my school work has plummeted, and at the same time, I have become more dedicated to its completion. Let me explain: When I had the time to do my work, the reasonable daylight time, I did it, and I did it well. Now, I do not have that time. What I do have are middle-of-the-night insomnia, Saturday evenings after 9pm, and Sunday afternoons when I should be resting. This is when I do my schoolwork. So no, I am not a slacker. I am poor and I have an autoimmune disease. The things I do to manage those two tiny pieces of my life are all-consuming, in addition to my work, which takes up most of my time, and gives me no money, whatsoever.

So yeah, I turned in an assignment that I am ashamed of. I am ashamed that I am imperfect. I am ashamed that I am limited. But those things are true for everyone; they are true for you. We are human, and that's all we have. We can't be everything to everyone, or do everything for everyone. We will disappoint people we love, and we will disappoint people we do not love.

I have harbored anxiety about this assignment, not because I cared about the assignment so much as cared about what the teacher would think of my less-than-perfect performance. So today, instead of spending what should be my day of rest on something inherently non-restful, I chose to let go of the shame.

Please don't suck it up!

I hate passive aggression, hate it. It makes my cheeks flush, heart races, blood pressure goes up, brow furrows. None of these are good things.

Instead of coming out and saying, "I'm not happy with you", the passive aggressive person waits until you're not expecting it, long after any uncomfortableness has passed. They lie in wait until you're innocently drinking from the stream like a young deer, enjoying the fresh cool water, the blue blue sky, and the gentle breeze blowing over your fur. Then POW! You're shot in the heart, and proceed to die a long slow miserable death, choking on your own blood and gasping for air. All you want to know, before you are gone, is "Why?" and "What the hell is wrong with you (i.e. passive aggressive shooter)?"

A few years ago, this was the only aggression I knew and understood. Then I met a wonderful person who wonderfully told me how she felt at the exact moment she was feeling it. Then that particular anger-inducing incident was over, in her mind. I would of course grieve for days about the loss of our friendship, and come crying to her to take me back, which she always would. But she was never stewing. She was just sad that I had to be sad for so long. She had never even considered not being my friend (Thank you God. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I never deserved that amazing gift).

Phew. This relationship lifted the heavy load off of my back that I'd been carrying for decades. Now, whenever some idiot wants to come and return the heavy load, or give me a new one, I can't even stomach it. The idea of taking it back makes me sick.

My motto is: Don't make your problem my problem. Tell me how you feel and be done with it. If you don't, you'll still treat me (and possibly other people) badly, probably unintentionally, and you don't want that.

Tell 'em how you feel, no matter how bad or shameful it seems to you. Your feelings outside of your body are better than your feelings inside your body eating away at all of your organs.

My life- a regular soap opera

So for some reason, I have received several insulting criticisms over the past few days via the internet. Some were veiled with false praise, while others were just blatantly unkind and unnecessary. Add to this some very passive-aggressive behavior by other people in my immediate life, and you've got yourself a regular soap opera, courtesy of Megan's world.

I was once very sensitive to critique of any kind. But now I hear criticism and I have to let it go, or else I would crumble. I have to suck up my defenses that immediately bristle. Instead of saying, "Hey bee-otch. Why do you find it necessary to be so rude to someone you've never met?" No. Instead, I say, "I am so terribly sorry that you are unhappy. Please let me know what I can do to make this right." There was no response to that particular email. Success! I was somehow able to diffuse a very hostile situation with total submission.

Finally, I take a deep breath, remind myself of the numerous people who appreciate me, and move on with my day.