Tonight I am feeling like a cross between Kermit the Frog and Rodney Dangerfield. It’s not easy being me and I feel I haven’t really gotten the respect I deserve.
There, I said it.
While this could be mistaken for a vent, a rant, a whine… it’s not.
I am sitting here, near tears, reflecting on the day.
I am an anxious person. There are no bones about it. I am simply an anxious person. I’ve been treated for anxiety. And while I’m not ready to have people in white coats chasing me with a butterfly net, I have recognized that I am an anxious person. I like to be organized. I like to know the info. I like to know what lay (or is it lays?) ahead of me. I am a person who believes you when you tell me you will call me at 5:00 and I am the person who figures you’re dead in a ditch when it’s 5:45 and I haven’t heard from you. Get a phone call saying your father dropped dead. That will do it to you.
It doesn’t really matter what happened today, the laundry list is just that… dirty laundry. What does matter is how the events of today made me feel. I was told by someone (ok, my mother) she would be available for a Skype session at a certain time. Usually we agree on a date and time and go from there. I waited at the assigned time. I waited some more. I called to confirm only to have no one answer. I waited some more. Almost 2 hours later and no phone call telling me the information had changed, I finally connected with her. A breezy ‘something came up’ was what I got.
Here I was, waiting for almost 2 hours with not so much as a phone call to tell me the plans had changed. I felt completely disrespected. Not only because my time was compromised, but because when I don’t hear from you after a reasonable amount of time, my hamster wheel goes into overdrive. I assume all kinds of things. And when I can’t get a hold of you to confirm you are indeed alive, I nearly pass out from anxiety. And the people in my life know this. They just seem to conveniently ‘forget’.
And then when I point it out, ever so gently, I am crazy, unreasonable, paranoid or my favorite…. a bitch.
So, it’s not really easy being me today.
Another series of things happened today on the domestic front. I live with a very fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants partner. In fact, we are so opposite that I sometimes wonder how we ever managed to get married or better yet create a child.
That does not mean anyone is a bad person. It just means my having a steel trap for a memory and living with someone with the memory of an ant tends to send my frustration level into orbit.
When I ask you to complete a simple task and clearly communicate it, I don’t expect to have to remind you half a dozen times. It’s just not worth it after the first couple.
So, there really is no right or wrong and I’m not looking for sympathy.
I’m simply pounding out a post because it’s cheaper than therapy. It’s somehow easier to tell a bunch of strangers (and I mean that in the nicest way) how misunderstood and disrespected I felt today than to try to talk it out with my family (using the 5 Languages of Love crap I read about and checked out of the library).
5 Languages of Love. My ass.
Sometimes a big stick and a middle finger works wonders.