If you air your dirty laundry in the woods and nobody’s there, does it still stink? I’m just wondering. I’m thinking I’m gonna start posting my blog to the sides of trees. Maybe it’ll cause less grief. Then again I’m sure the trees will love the irony of paper being stapled to their sides.
“No worries, it’s recycled.”
First off, I read a blog the other week about Mercury being in retrograde. I don’t buy into that stuff, but man! I guess I need to apologize. I poo-pooed the wrong blog. I should have joined the mob and poo-pooed mine. I’ll just change my posting title to “Blog on Poo Corner”. Angry mobs form to the left. Next lynching: 30 minutes.
Ok, so I’m being a little melodramatic. Still, we all have those moments right? When it feels like the world is against us. I’ve been going through a moment for a while now. What do we do? And when we do feel that way, whom do we turn to?
Me, I wrap myself into a fetal ball and turn inward. I mean usually that’s where the pain is coming from anyway. Remember the old board game, Operation? That’s kind of how I am. Oh I suck at removing all the plastic ailments from Rudolf the buzzer-nose-boy’s body. I can’t use the electric tweezers without jabbing something wrong, but I am very good at putting the ailments inside the body. What’s more I have a bag full of extra maladies with nowhere to go. Oh, there are readers with suggestions.
It usually doesn’t start with the Operation though. It starts by pushing down dominoes of problems. One piece knocks down another until everything collapses. That’s how it works. That’s how I work. The good news is, when everything falls, it’s done, the pity party is over, and I can stand again.
People handle these moments differently. I have a friend who hides in a cave. No literally, she moves to the woods, chases the bears out with a surly growl, then boards up the cave, and won’t talk until she’s done. She’s resolved to resolving her own problems without accepting help. Simply holding out your hand will void the process.
Other’s need help every inch of the way. They can’t step without somebody supporting the weight of their world.
Me, I’m more of a training wheels kinda guy. I can do it, I just need to know that somebody else is there, in case I fall. Outstretch your arms, show me you’re there.
That sounds easy, but according to the labels on my divorce baggage, I don’t let other people really close. That requires time and proof of trust. Most people aren’t willing to invest that much time in the surly old blogger at the end of the block. I mean really, be honest. When you played operation, how long could you play before picking up the board and shaking it upside-down until all the insides fell out?
Yeah, me too.
Still, no matter how frail my relationships are, I do treasure them. See I do understand, I’m like chess: easy to learn, difficult to master. So I appreciate those who try. I know that the rules of Rob are too much for some people. And I don’t throw the board when they go, but I do miss the person across the table.
I’ve been loosing players in teams lately. This isn’t like my divorce,;I’m not working the whole self-doubt spiral, but it hasn’t stopped the pity party invitations from getting mailed.
It’s ok though. Last night I had a blow up with a competitor. She was being wordy, and told me how far I’d fallen from God.
Now, rather than draw out the facts that moved me down the chutes and ladders to the pits of hell, let me just say this: I know what brought her to this conclusion, but it wasn’t right. In reality she’d asked me about something I didn’t want to talk about, so I feinted the conversation in a new direction. I’m good at that. I’m evasive. I’ve also moved to the status of sinner in the hands of an angry God.
I mean it’s true. I’m guilty, but at least accuse me of the real stuff, and not the red herrings I toss on the board as appetizers. That was the final domino. It made me mad. I’ve been accommodating people for far too long. I love to get along, but enough is enough. It’s time to pick up my games and go home.
As for the dirty laundry, well, I’m still the un-bathed blogger. I assure you, there’ll be plenty more dirty laundry. Just remember. Angry mob forms to the left. I’ll be the guy on the porch showing you my gaming finger.
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