Today I'm having one of those days where I just don't really like myself. For the most part, I'm pretty thick-skinned. I have to be. But, I'm sure it's no secret that my sarcasm and my "bite me" attitude, at times, is my defense. I have days of unbearable guilt, though and I can't stand it. I'm sure we can all say that we were just a nightmare from ages twelve until about twenty, right? It's just part of growing up and hormones and rebellion...all part of finding yourself. My mom and I had some pretty nasty fights back in the day. The best ones were when we would go clothes shopping. Naturally, I hated just about everything I tried on. It either didn't fit or I just didn't like the way it looked. Typical girl. She always tried to get me to buy the clothes that "everyone else is wearing." Hands down, that's got to be the most annoying thing for me to hear. I'm pretty sure that's where my "I do what I want and if you don't like it, don't talk to me" attitude started. I can't stand being told that I should wear or do or be something just because it's what everyone else is doing. It's infuriating...and incredibly frustrating, especially when you're trying to figure out exactly who YOU are. My mom still likes to bring these fights up...often. She apparently thinks it's funny now that it's in the past. I guess it is...but we had one fight about ten years ago...the fight to end all fights. It was bad and it was ugly and I believe it ended (or started...?) with me screaming from the dressing room "YOUR OPINION DOESN'T MATTER!!!!!" I just couldn't get her to understand that it didn't matter if SHE liked the outfit...it mattered if I liked it. Afterall, I was the one that had to wear it. In any case, the shopping trip was over after that and I rarely wore the outfit we were fighting about (mostly because it reminded me of that awful fight). She didn't talk to me for days after that, even sending someone else to pick me up from band practice or from work. We ended up emailing each other about it (how modern) and I cried...a lot...and felt terrible. It's definitely one of those moments in my life I desperately wish I could erase. And without fail, every single time it's brought up, I lose it. I remember the anger I felt at the time and I remember the embarrassment my mother felt. I wish I was the kind of person that could let things go. I dwell on things for YEARS. I had to take this stupid test for a job once and the results showed that I apparently lack empathy. The person in charge of the testing was surprised...others were not. I find it comical, because it's the perfect example of how misunderstood I am. Yeah, I know...everyone says that, but I actually had someone say to me recently "you always say you're misunderstood and I'm starting to realize that you really are." I have certain views and certain opinions that make it SEEM like I lack empathy, but I absolutely do not. There are two major moments in my life where I remember seriously upsetting someone else (above story being one of them) and every single time either one of them enters my mind for even a moment, the tears start flowing. I can't handle the pain I caused this other person. It kills me. But, as soon as the stories are brought up, the defenses go up and I appear un-empathetic. I want to say I wish we could all move past it, but it seems like I'm the only one that hasn't. It was so many years ago and others are laughing about it, but it kills me every time. What is wrong with me? And then I start to feel stupid, because I get the whole "Oh, I was just messing with you, it's funny NOW!" excuse and I feel like I'm overreacting. What the hell?
I like to think I have a good sense of humor, especially about myself, so why can't I take THIS joke? Clearly, my mother is over it...
Ugh! I can't even keep a train of thought on this one. I'm all over the place. It's frustrating to actually know who you are and have the rest of the world see someone different. I don't want to be all emo, "no one understands me," because I'm sure I'm partially to blame for it. Maybe it's my delivery, or my willingness to share my thoughts...but I really do cry at the drop of a hat. The elderly absolutely break my heart. I remember working at BJ's and every time an older person would come through my check-out line alone, I'd make up some story in my head about why they were alone. It was always some horribly sad story about their husband or wife dying after fifty years together and they're on their first grocery shopping trip alone. It's usually old men, because, for some stereotypical reason, I assume they're much more lost without their significant others than women are. And children get me too. It almost pains me to see a child and not give them a hug. I'm the creepy lady that always smiles at children and tries to get babies to laugh. They just break me...and if I could afford it, I'd have a houseful of my own, I'd open myself up to adoption and foster children (which I'm sure I wouldn't be able to handle). I feel bad for other people every single day, but it's not the "right" people, I guess, so it doesn't count.
Part of the problem is that I don't let everyone see that. I bawled my eyes out during the movie "Up." I watched it with Ryan thinking I was watching this happy Disney movie and I bawled from beginning to end...saddest movie I've ever seen in my life. But, I DIDN'T cry during "Marley & Me." I dislike dogs and the one in that movie made me angry and annoyed me...but, really I think Owen Wilson's dreadful acting ruined the whole thing for me. The point is that, if I had been watching either of those with my family, I probably would have either left the room or turned it off. But, since I was with Ryan the tears flowed easily and shamelessly. I don't cry in front of my family...or any of my friends really. Ryan is the only one that gets 100% all the time. I'm not really sure why that is. I'm not sure where that fear of letting it all hang out comes from, but I definitely have my guard up around everyone else. It's not that I lack empathy...it's that I act on impulse, let the feelings stew and dwell on the pain for years. I'm sure this is immensely unhealthy, but I like to think it's that guilt that keeps me on my toes. It prevents me from making the same mistakes twice. I wouldn't be able to handle hurting someone like that again. It would literally kill me. I guess the moral of the story is that while I'm not very good at acting "like a girl," the emotions of one definitely run deep. Or, maybe I'm just crazy.
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