I just read a quote somewhere that went something like "you have no control over yesterday or tomorrow, only today. Take control now."
Where to begin. Where to begin... when you look in the mirror and wonder who's looking back. When you have to make a conscious effort every waking minute of the day to visualize what your words and actions are going to look and sound like to those around you before you actually speak or act.
How in the world, in the name of everything sacred, did I get to this point? I know that there have been times in the past when I've been angry or upset for extended periods of time over this or that. You don't go through the majority of your adult life with no real friends to speak of by acting like little Mary sunshine. I can hardly blame anyone for not wanting to invest their time in a relationship with me. By some grace of God, I have a husband and a best friend right now, and I'd like to keep them if at all possible. So... I just have to be brutally honest with myself about who I am. I have to do this before I can fix me.
Ok. Yes, this sounds like I'm bashing myself. I know that I can be a good friend, a good wife and a valuable human being when I'm not overwhelmed by this awful anger and frustration. I am generous and compassionate and funny ..... yes, yes I am all of those things... when I'm not angry. When I'm angry, I become sarcastic, biting, attacking, loud, judgmental, the queen of the rhetorical question, with very high expectations of the people who I perceive as being in the wrong. I even manage to sound loud when I write angry words. I'm a Mean Girl. Yes, in the simplest of terms, I'm a Mean Girl. Nobody wants to be friends with a Mean Girl.
"Hormones" should be a four-letter word. How can those magical chemicals that help us to create new life also tip someone like me over the edge of pique? And yet, they have. I could just blame them for everything, but I can't let myself off the hook that easy. In my heart of hearts, I know that this is a problem I've had for my entire life on which perimenopause has aimed a giant magnifying glass. What is the answer......??
In the long term, I need a release. Something that I can use both as a prophylactic and that I can turn to when I feel myself careening out of control. My gut tells me that it should be some sort of physical activity. When I look back over my life I realize that my worst periods of bad behavior have happened when I wasn't doing any sort of physical activity or exercise. I need to find this activity and make it fit in with the rest of my schedule - even if I have to fit my schedule around it.
In the short term and the long term, I have to get out of bed each morning and tell myself that this is going to be a day when I don't lash out verbally or non-verbally. I have to remind myself that I have sent my soapbox on an extended vacation. It is not necessarily a good combination to be gifted with the written word and to have anger management issues, and I have to measure everything I write to be sure that it has the tone that I envision myself having. So, that is another promise I make to myself every morning now. When I am engaged in conversation, I have to keep telling myself that I am not waging some un-winnable war with the person I am talking to or talking about. I've learned that it is an exhausting process to try to edit everything I say and write before my words become reality. Please, God, tell me that this will eventually become instinctive. Right now, it feels like I have an addiction that I'm trying to over come. That sounds crazy, though, the idea that someone could be addicted to anger. It is crazy, or is it my reality?
Mostly right now, I just feel sad. I find myself wondering how many people I've alienated over the years that I don't even know about. I don't want to be the person that people are forced to put up with out of obligation, but I feel that way almost all of the time these days.
I only have control over today. Every day that I get through on an even keel is a victory. Every measured, thought-out word that flows from my lips or my pen is a success. I simply cannot lose the people I care about just because I can't keep it together.
I only have control over today.
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Conscious Coupling.... or Uncoupling....or ...... what?
Sometime in the past year or so, Gwyneth Paltrow and her husband (of Coldplay fame) divorced. Ok....well, as a part of the never-ending onslaught of celebrity news, the separation or divorce announcement is not exactly unique or interesting. In this case, the actress in question is known for her "elite persona", but I think she outdid herself here. She announced that she and Chris Martin were "engaging in a conscious uncoupling". The utter pretentiousness of this statement had me confused as whether to laugh or sneer - so I did both for a while. Then I realized that this ridiculous description had become a literary ear worm of sorts for me. For the love of God, why???
Maybe for me, it's not the issue of conscious uncoupling, but rather the opposite - conscious "coupling". Now, as someone who's been married for 24 years, I think I understand marriage fairly well. I tried for a couple of our first childless years of marriage to spend as much time with Bill as humanly possible because I just thought that's what you did. We drove to and from work together, ate lunch together, went everywhere on the weekends together, and ....... started driving each other crazy. Thank God Mandy came along and put a stop to that madness. Over the years, we learned - sometimes the hard way - that we love each other for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with our hobby interests. And while we understand the need to support each other's interests, that is entirely different from engaging in these interests together. And it works.... for us.
Enter the "conscious couples" of the world who seem to outnumber us two to one - and who don't understand us any better than we understand them. I just shake my head sometimes - the first sign of a conscious couple is the joint e-mail address and/or Facebook account with a user name like "frankandmarysmith" (important that it be all one word!!) or even better, the indecipherable combination of initials and last names - fmyetalsmith@idiot.com. I'm sure you have a perfectly acceptable reason for having only one e-mail address or Facebook account, but for the love of God, have some dignity and name the account something that doesn't invoke visions of circus sideshow conjoined humans. <Sigh> - am I the only one who sees the irony in the fact that people are protesting against corporate personhood, yet so many people make the conscious decision to throw away their individuality when they enter into the holy state of matrimony, taking the biblical "two shall become one" command a bit too literally? The best part is when one of these couples join some group - together, of course, - and commit to some level of participation, but when one of them contracts the common cold, or a virus, or < insert any benign, non life-threatening, common, everyday affliction here>, they both stay home. Really? The last time I checked, I was an adult who did not need my husband to sit next to me and feed me chicken soup or whatever while I was sick! In fact, when I am sick, I really don't want another human being anywhere near me.
I fully recognize that this is how these folks have chosen to live. I assume that they are happy and comfortable living this way together, and while I may be smirking and laughing on the inside, I am quite respectful on the outside. In return, it would be really terrific if I wasn't asked over and over why my husband is going here or there for a few days or a week without me and why I choose to go on chorus tours without him. Or they give me that look reminiscent of a dog cocking its head, uncomprehending. I am asked "Do you miss Bill yet?" with the appropriate vocal inflection - equal parts sweetness, concern and curiosity. My answer - an abrupt "Nope"- never fails to startle the inquisitor in the most satisfying way. It's not entirely true that I don't miss him. I miss him, the person. I do not miss the way I know he'd be behaving if I forced him to pay over $1,000 to be scheduled within an inch of his life. I, the performer and anal-retentive time schedule freak, thrive on this type of experience. He hates it. Let's put it this way - people on these trips have gotten lost or lost track of time, and we've sat on a bus waiting for them. My husband would "get lost" on purpose. And then I'd have to kill him. Nobody wins. So, stop asking me why he isn't coming with me or if I miss him. This, in my mind, is only slightly less intrusive than asking a couple why they "only" have one child (another phenomenon that I am familiar with).
My bottom line - years of pre-cana sponsoring taught me that marriage is a tough business and it's different for everyone. Whatever works!
But, I reserve the right to snicker on the inside at "frankandmarysmith".
Maybe for me, it's not the issue of conscious uncoupling, but rather the opposite - conscious "coupling". Now, as someone who's been married for 24 years, I think I understand marriage fairly well. I tried for a couple of our first childless years of marriage to spend as much time with Bill as humanly possible because I just thought that's what you did. We drove to and from work together, ate lunch together, went everywhere on the weekends together, and ....... started driving each other crazy. Thank God Mandy came along and put a stop to that madness. Over the years, we learned - sometimes the hard way - that we love each other for reasons that have absolutely nothing to do with our hobby interests. And while we understand the need to support each other's interests, that is entirely different from engaging in these interests together. And it works.... for us.
Enter the "conscious couples" of the world who seem to outnumber us two to one - and who don't understand us any better than we understand them. I just shake my head sometimes - the first sign of a conscious couple is the joint e-mail address and/or Facebook account with a user name like "frankandmarysmith" (important that it be all one word!!) or even better, the indecipherable combination of initials and last names - fmyetalsmith@idiot.com. I'm sure you have a perfectly acceptable reason for having only one e-mail address or Facebook account, but for the love of God, have some dignity and name the account something that doesn't invoke visions of circus sideshow conjoined humans. <Sigh> - am I the only one who sees the irony in the fact that people are protesting against corporate personhood, yet so many people make the conscious decision to throw away their individuality when they enter into the holy state of matrimony, taking the biblical "two shall become one" command a bit too literally? The best part is when one of these couples join some group - together, of course, - and commit to some level of participation, but when one of them contracts the common cold, or a virus, or < insert any benign, non life-threatening, common, everyday affliction here>, they both stay home. Really? The last time I checked, I was an adult who did not need my husband to sit next to me and feed me chicken soup or whatever while I was sick! In fact, when I am sick, I really don't want another human being anywhere near me.
I fully recognize that this is how these folks have chosen to live. I assume that they are happy and comfortable living this way together, and while I may be smirking and laughing on the inside, I am quite respectful on the outside. In return, it would be really terrific if I wasn't asked over and over why my husband is going here or there for a few days or a week without me and why I choose to go on chorus tours without him. Or they give me that look reminiscent of a dog cocking its head, uncomprehending. I am asked "Do you miss Bill yet?" with the appropriate vocal inflection - equal parts sweetness, concern and curiosity. My answer - an abrupt "Nope"- never fails to startle the inquisitor in the most satisfying way. It's not entirely true that I don't miss him. I miss him, the person. I do not miss the way I know he'd be behaving if I forced him to pay over $1,000 to be scheduled within an inch of his life. I, the performer and anal-retentive time schedule freak, thrive on this type of experience. He hates it. Let's put it this way - people on these trips have gotten lost or lost track of time, and we've sat on a bus waiting for them. My husband would "get lost" on purpose. And then I'd have to kill him. Nobody wins. So, stop asking me why he isn't coming with me or if I miss him. This, in my mind, is only slightly less intrusive than asking a couple why they "only" have one child (another phenomenon that I am familiar with).
My bottom line - years of pre-cana sponsoring taught me that marriage is a tough business and it's different for everyone. Whatever works!
But, I reserve the right to snicker on the inside at "frankandmarysmith".
Thursday, December 18, 2014
The Evolution of My Personal Faith
Anyone who was brought up in the Catholic faith will understand what I mean when I say that I've spent most of my life thinking that faith and religion were one and the same. The routine was .... well.... very routine. Weekly Mass, religious ed, etc ... I was spared the indignity of being forced to attend Catholic school, but I sat in Mass each week like a good little soldier, and in my mind, Mass=God=Faith= Eternal Salvation.
As an adult, I was exposed to other Christian religions and the Jewish faith, and I was sort of shocked to learn that these folks also thought that they held the key to the afterlife (well, some Jews don't believe in the afterworld, but whatever!). When music re-established itself in life, I began to equate my participation in Mass as a musical thing that equated to faith. The music liturgy seemed to define my devotion. A fantastic music program at my church translated into me feeling quite religious and fine indeed.
So, what happened when the music liturgy was less than fantastic? I was forced to actually listen to the Mass and the homily with mature ears. And I wasn't sure I liked what I was hearing. What else was out there? Protestant churches? Unitarians? Universalist Unitarians....... New Life, Brothers of the Lord, Disciples of Christ, ....... huh? The luxuries of Protestantism beckoned. Cushioned pews. Welcome areas. Pre- or post-service coffee gatherings. Real choir areas not located at the top of punishing flights of stairs. And the coat racks ... oh, the coat racks! I digress..... Even as I occasionally indulged in these trappings, I still felt like there was something missing.
I remember that famous line from the first Presidential campaign of Bill Clinton - "It's the economy, stupid!". For me a few months ago, it was "Hey, it's Jesus Christ, stupid!" I read some materials that dared to suggest that the actual commandments of Jesus were more important than anything spoken or written by his Apostles or any men who came afterward. The more I read them and thought about them, the more I realized how little established religious practices have in common with them. Gandhi was famously quoted as saying "Your Christ.. I like him very much. I don't care for your Christians. Your Christians are very un-like your Christ." I wondered what would happen to my faith if I were to stop concerning myself with all of the superficial "stuff" that fills established religions and instead were to concentrate on Christ. Just Christ.
As the months passed, I focused on the commandments of Jesus in my daily life. What changed? I was less critical of the religion of my childhood. I realized that it could be an important social component of my life that could serve as a means to help keep me focused on the study of my personal faith. As I looked at my fellow Catholics, I was surprised to detect thoughts and feelings very similar to mine. Views toward sexuality, homosexuality and "traditional families" were leaning much more toward a "live and let live" philosophy... this was new? ...or maybe I just hadn't taken the time to notice before.
Where does this leave me today? Today, organized religion is an activity that helps me to carve out time for my faith, but it does not define my faith. For me, faith is mental. For me, faith is a feeling and a conviction. Faith for me is:
- knowing that if I try to treat everyone with dignity and respect, I will almost always come out on the other side having learned something. Some of the most surprising experiences come when you acknowledge someone who you might feel totally disengaged or alienated from - for whatever reason.
- knowing that sadness, sorrow, personal tragedy and obstacles are part of a bigger plan that I may not understand now or maybe ever.
-knowing that moments of beauty and sweetness can exist within those tragedies if we allow ourselves to see them.
-knowing that one of the greatest joys we can ever experience is to pray for someone other than ourselves and to have those prayers answered.
-knowing that I am perfect in my imperfections and that I can identify and acknowledge those imperfections without bashing myself, because faith is an ongoing work in progress.
-knowing that the good things in my life are worth fighting for. Because they won't always be joyful and perfect, but they will be sometimes challenging and always ever-evolving and always worth the effort.
Love one another as I have loved you. It doesn't get any simpler than that.
As an adult, I was exposed to other Christian religions and the Jewish faith, and I was sort of shocked to learn that these folks also thought that they held the key to the afterlife (well, some Jews don't believe in the afterworld, but whatever!). When music re-established itself in life, I began to equate my participation in Mass as a musical thing that equated to faith. The music liturgy seemed to define my devotion. A fantastic music program at my church translated into me feeling quite religious and fine indeed.
So, what happened when the music liturgy was less than fantastic? I was forced to actually listen to the Mass and the homily with mature ears. And I wasn't sure I liked what I was hearing. What else was out there? Protestant churches? Unitarians? Universalist Unitarians....... New Life, Brothers of the Lord, Disciples of Christ, ....... huh? The luxuries of Protestantism beckoned. Cushioned pews. Welcome areas. Pre- or post-service coffee gatherings. Real choir areas not located at the top of punishing flights of stairs. And the coat racks ... oh, the coat racks! I digress..... Even as I occasionally indulged in these trappings, I still felt like there was something missing.
I remember that famous line from the first Presidential campaign of Bill Clinton - "It's the economy, stupid!". For me a few months ago, it was "Hey, it's Jesus Christ, stupid!" I read some materials that dared to suggest that the actual commandments of Jesus were more important than anything spoken or written by his Apostles or any men who came afterward. The more I read them and thought about them, the more I realized how little established religious practices have in common with them. Gandhi was famously quoted as saying "Your Christ.. I like him very much. I don't care for your Christians. Your Christians are very un-like your Christ." I wondered what would happen to my faith if I were to stop concerning myself with all of the superficial "stuff" that fills established religions and instead were to concentrate on Christ. Just Christ.
As the months passed, I focused on the commandments of Jesus in my daily life. What changed? I was less critical of the religion of my childhood. I realized that it could be an important social component of my life that could serve as a means to help keep me focused on the study of my personal faith. As I looked at my fellow Catholics, I was surprised to detect thoughts and feelings very similar to mine. Views toward sexuality, homosexuality and "traditional families" were leaning much more toward a "live and let live" philosophy... this was new? ...or maybe I just hadn't taken the time to notice before.
Where does this leave me today? Today, organized religion is an activity that helps me to carve out time for my faith, but it does not define my faith. For me, faith is mental. For me, faith is a feeling and a conviction. Faith for me is:
- knowing that if I try to treat everyone with dignity and respect, I will almost always come out on the other side having learned something. Some of the most surprising experiences come when you acknowledge someone who you might feel totally disengaged or alienated from - for whatever reason.
- knowing that sadness, sorrow, personal tragedy and obstacles are part of a bigger plan that I may not understand now or maybe ever.
-knowing that moments of beauty and sweetness can exist within those tragedies if we allow ourselves to see them.
-knowing that one of the greatest joys we can ever experience is to pray for someone other than ourselves and to have those prayers answered.
-knowing that I am perfect in my imperfections and that I can identify and acknowledge those imperfections without bashing myself, because faith is an ongoing work in progress.
-knowing that the good things in my life are worth fighting for. Because they won't always be joyful and perfect, but they will be sometimes challenging and always ever-evolving and always worth the effort.
Love one another as I have loved you. It doesn't get any simpler than that.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Thanksgiving and beyond
It's been a most interesting week. An absurd amount of snow dumped on the area south of Buffalo (and South Buffalo) last week. Almost 7 feet in some towns and villages. That's an entire winter's worth of snow in 72 hours or so. And while the worst of the snow is behind them, there will be high winds and unseasonable warmth tomorrow and Tuesday, which could lead to intense flooding when all of that snow melts in record time just as it fell in record time. We hold our collective breath and wait .
How will this affect our Thanksgiving? For me personally, I am thinking of it as just one piece of the big picture of my daughter's final year of college. So far we have experienced: the final dorm move-in, the final Parents' Weekend and now, as I type this, the final Thanksgiving Break. Here's the thing: I know that wherever she lands after graduation, I can vow to visit her as often as possible, but life has a funny way of getting in the way of vows such as these. I saw this when my brother's kids moved South while he was still working full time. No pun intended, I will give it the "old college try", but I have to be realistic about the frequency of our visits. There will be no more convenient school breaks. It will be the next chapter of our lives, the inevitable progression of life, blah, blah, blah ... So, I ask for pardon and patience as I am tending to approach these school breaks with even more sentiment and more of a sense of importance than usual. I spent a good chunk of last week being unreasonably worried about the people I know who were trapped by this behemoth storm, defending Buffalo's good name on Facebook and focusing with laser attention on the effect that all of this might have on my daughter's flight into town on Friday. I'm afraid that this might sound awfully self-centered to some people, but I am embracing that and accepting it. My daughter will never have another Senior Year in college.
I am thankful this year for the health and well-being of my friends who survived the storm - SNOWVEMBER - as it is now called. I am thankful that we are the people who we are here in Western New York, where a gang of over 200 people armed with shovels called themselves "The Shovel Brigade" and converged on South Buffalo to help dig out the unfortunate citizens still trapped in their homes. This is just one example of the type of citizenry that inhabits these parts.
I am thankful for my family who used my 50th birthday to show me just exactly what I mean to them. I am still overwhelmed when I think about that party. I can only hope to continue to deserve this level of devotion and to be able to demonstrate it in return.
I am thankful for my best friend. Since Thanksgiving last year, some things have happened that have tested our friendship. What I have learned from these experiences is that we have radically different ways of dealing with high-stress and big-anger situations. I must learn to give her space and room to digest her anger by herself, within herself. In return, I hope she understands that my way of dealing with tough situations is to immediately discuss, discuss, discuss until I can visualize a pathway to a solution. This is the only way I can stop my brain from processing the situation over and over and over - interrupting sleep, work etc.. and that if she takes too much time for introspective thought, I just might explode! I am thankful that we were able to flush these things out. While we have so much in common, are connected in so many ways, it is good to have some differences to keep us on our toes.
Mostly, some interesting things have happened since last Thanksgiving that cause me now to be thankful for being the 50-year old me rather than the 25-year old me. I am thankful for the wisdom that comes with age. A gift that can never be taken away!
How will this affect our Thanksgiving? For me personally, I am thinking of it as just one piece of the big picture of my daughter's final year of college. So far we have experienced: the final dorm move-in, the final Parents' Weekend and now, as I type this, the final Thanksgiving Break. Here's the thing: I know that wherever she lands after graduation, I can vow to visit her as often as possible, but life has a funny way of getting in the way of vows such as these. I saw this when my brother's kids moved South while he was still working full time. No pun intended, I will give it the "old college try", but I have to be realistic about the frequency of our visits. There will be no more convenient school breaks. It will be the next chapter of our lives, the inevitable progression of life, blah, blah, blah ... So, I ask for pardon and patience as I am tending to approach these school breaks with even more sentiment and more of a sense of importance than usual. I spent a good chunk of last week being unreasonably worried about the people I know who were trapped by this behemoth storm, defending Buffalo's good name on Facebook and focusing with laser attention on the effect that all of this might have on my daughter's flight into town on Friday. I'm afraid that this might sound awfully self-centered to some people, but I am embracing that and accepting it. My daughter will never have another Senior Year in college.
I am thankful this year for the health and well-being of my friends who survived the storm - SNOWVEMBER - as it is now called. I am thankful that we are the people who we are here in Western New York, where a gang of over 200 people armed with shovels called themselves "The Shovel Brigade" and converged on South Buffalo to help dig out the unfortunate citizens still trapped in their homes. This is just one example of the type of citizenry that inhabits these parts.
I am thankful for my family who used my 50th birthday to show me just exactly what I mean to them. I am still overwhelmed when I think about that party. I can only hope to continue to deserve this level of devotion and to be able to demonstrate it in return.
I am thankful for my best friend. Since Thanksgiving last year, some things have happened that have tested our friendship. What I have learned from these experiences is that we have radically different ways of dealing with high-stress and big-anger situations. I must learn to give her space and room to digest her anger by herself, within herself. In return, I hope she understands that my way of dealing with tough situations is to immediately discuss, discuss, discuss until I can visualize a pathway to a solution. This is the only way I can stop my brain from processing the situation over and over and over - interrupting sleep, work etc.. and that if she takes too much time for introspective thought, I just might explode! I am thankful that we were able to flush these things out. While we have so much in common, are connected in so many ways, it is good to have some differences to keep us on our toes.
Mostly, some interesting things have happened since last Thanksgiving that cause me now to be thankful for being the 50-year old me rather than the 25-year old me. I am thankful for the wisdom that comes with age. A gift that can never be taken away!
Monday, November 10, 2014
Trying to Understand, Trying to Deal
Turmoil is not fun for most people. I need to believe that only the most narcissistic, the most self-centered, the most non-empathetic person cannot be negatively impacted by organizational upheaval. It has to be so.
Three years and four months ago, BCAS went to Washington, DC. I was a singer and I was the Board Secretary. At that time, the future was rosy and all was good with the world. Our Board was comprised of a diverse set of personalities that somehow meshed in spite of our differences. One woman in particular evolved from being a fellow singer and Board member into an occasional dinner partner with our husbands. I liked her intelligence. I liked her affinity for good food, good drink and good entertainment. She was generous beyond comparison. Her husband was quiet and witty, her young daughter was charming.
Now, let me be clear - this woman had her quirks. She was not hurting for money, and she never missed an opportunity to remind all of us, the great unwashed, of that fact. But she was such a philanthropist that it was easy to overlook the braggadocio. She loved to talk, and in particular, she loved to talk about herself. This little quirk could actually drive those in her presence crazy. Yet, once in a while ... when you could get her to listen...., she usually had something valuable, interesting or helpful to offer in return. I don't want to make it sound as though we were joined at the hip or soul mates or anything of that nature. She and her husband were our friends in the way that adult couples cultivate friendships with other couples. Certainly my husband thought so too. It was the sort of casual, no-strings friendship that people are supposed to have lots of. We didn't have lots of them, so maybe we unconsciously placed too much importance on this one.
I'd have to say that things started to change after her second child was born. Her family was squashed into a house that was too small. Then, her employer started having issues. What exactly triggered the changes in her, I'll never know. We had to reorganize something in the chorus over the holidays, and she took it into her head that somehow three of us on the Board had clandestinely planned to pull off the re-org without her knowledge or involvement. This could not be further from the truth, but to her, I was the friend who had betrayed her, and no amount of explanation on my part could make her change her mind.
In the months that followed, her behavior became more erratic and angry - anger that (unless I was imagining things) seemed to be aimed at me. Every week, I would compose my rehearsal notes to email to the chorus, and every week, I would hit the send button and hold my breath. If I accidentally omitted something that she thought should be in the e-mail, I would start receiving a string of texts, usually punctuated with "I'M SCREWED NOW"..... If I was above approach, she'd start sending angry texts about perceived slights perpetrated by others. This was a pattern that continued to the end. If she was angry with anyone else, I would become her verbal punching bag. One time, I had to finally text her back with a terse "I'M DONE. TURNING OFF MY PHONE NOW". Oddly, I heard through the grapevine that she was sorry, but the apology never made it to me. I think her "revenge" on me was finally complete when she verbally attacked me at a concert after-party. This, in turn, caused me to act out in spectacular fashion with others around me. That, for me, was the final straw in the delicate shell of what had once been a pleasant casual friendship.
I developed a fairly effective defense against her behavior. Indifference. It was probably too effective, because that's when she started becoming a problem for the chorus in general and our fellow Board members in particular. Her meltdowns increased in direct proportion to her paranoia that we were secretly meeting and making important chorus plans without her. If we so much as had a 5 minute conversation without her, it was grounds for accusations. Worst of all - her bad behavior became directed at chorus members. Her unpopularity was palpable, and all the time, I kept thinking "where is that person that we used to have dinner with?" It was so hard for me to make the connection between the person I knew and the person who was wreaking havoc in our lives.
In a nutshell, we believe she attempted an ill-planned coup of our Board along with two other equally-disgruntled chorus members. She has now resigned from all chorus duties and taken a leave of absence. We are all relieved - there are no words to adequately describe our relief, as a matter of fact. But I am also sad, Because I know in my heart of hearts that I don't want her to come back, and that even if she begged forgiveness for her behavior, I could never trust her again. And that makes me sad. Maybe it shouldn't, but it does. She never actually perpetrated anything wrong, but she just said such awful things in private and in front of people who did nothing to warrant them. She struck verbally with the force of a viper and left her victims literally breathless. But this was not the person I knew just three short years ago. I don't know where that person is, but wherever she is, I hope she will miss me just a little bit and not hate me or think of me as a betrayer. I can't explain why I care, but I do care. I guess I just don't understand people sometimes.
Three years and four months ago, BCAS went to Washington, DC. I was a singer and I was the Board Secretary. At that time, the future was rosy and all was good with the world. Our Board was comprised of a diverse set of personalities that somehow meshed in spite of our differences. One woman in particular evolved from being a fellow singer and Board member into an occasional dinner partner with our husbands. I liked her intelligence. I liked her affinity for good food, good drink and good entertainment. She was generous beyond comparison. Her husband was quiet and witty, her young daughter was charming.
Now, let me be clear - this woman had her quirks. She was not hurting for money, and she never missed an opportunity to remind all of us, the great unwashed, of that fact. But she was such a philanthropist that it was easy to overlook the braggadocio. She loved to talk, and in particular, she loved to talk about herself. This little quirk could actually drive those in her presence crazy. Yet, once in a while ... when you could get her to listen...., she usually had something valuable, interesting or helpful to offer in return. I don't want to make it sound as though we were joined at the hip or soul mates or anything of that nature. She and her husband were our friends in the way that adult couples cultivate friendships with other couples. Certainly my husband thought so too. It was the sort of casual, no-strings friendship that people are supposed to have lots of. We didn't have lots of them, so maybe we unconsciously placed too much importance on this one.
I'd have to say that things started to change after her second child was born. Her family was squashed into a house that was too small. Then, her employer started having issues. What exactly triggered the changes in her, I'll never know. We had to reorganize something in the chorus over the holidays, and she took it into her head that somehow three of us on the Board had clandestinely planned to pull off the re-org without her knowledge or involvement. This could not be further from the truth, but to her, I was the friend who had betrayed her, and no amount of explanation on my part could make her change her mind.
In the months that followed, her behavior became more erratic and angry - anger that (unless I was imagining things) seemed to be aimed at me. Every week, I would compose my rehearsal notes to email to the chorus, and every week, I would hit the send button and hold my breath. If I accidentally omitted something that she thought should be in the e-mail, I would start receiving a string of texts, usually punctuated with "I'M SCREWED NOW"..... If I was above approach, she'd start sending angry texts about perceived slights perpetrated by others. This was a pattern that continued to the end. If she was angry with anyone else, I would become her verbal punching bag. One time, I had to finally text her back with a terse "I'M DONE. TURNING OFF MY PHONE NOW". Oddly, I heard through the grapevine that she was sorry, but the apology never made it to me. I think her "revenge" on me was finally complete when she verbally attacked me at a concert after-party. This, in turn, caused me to act out in spectacular fashion with others around me. That, for me, was the final straw in the delicate shell of what had once been a pleasant casual friendship.
I developed a fairly effective defense against her behavior. Indifference. It was probably too effective, because that's when she started becoming a problem for the chorus in general and our fellow Board members in particular. Her meltdowns increased in direct proportion to her paranoia that we were secretly meeting and making important chorus plans without her. If we so much as had a 5 minute conversation without her, it was grounds for accusations. Worst of all - her bad behavior became directed at chorus members. Her unpopularity was palpable, and all the time, I kept thinking "where is that person that we used to have dinner with?" It was so hard for me to make the connection between the person I knew and the person who was wreaking havoc in our lives.
In a nutshell, we believe she attempted an ill-planned coup of our Board along with two other equally-disgruntled chorus members. She has now resigned from all chorus duties and taken a leave of absence. We are all relieved - there are no words to adequately describe our relief, as a matter of fact. But I am also sad, Because I know in my heart of hearts that I don't want her to come back, and that even if she begged forgiveness for her behavior, I could never trust her again. And that makes me sad. Maybe it shouldn't, but it does. She never actually perpetrated anything wrong, but she just said such awful things in private and in front of people who did nothing to warrant them. She struck verbally with the force of a viper and left her victims literally breathless. But this was not the person I knew just three short years ago. I don't know where that person is, but wherever she is, I hope she will miss me just a little bit and not hate me or think of me as a betrayer. I can't explain why I care, but I do care. I guess I just don't understand people sometimes.
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
An Absolutely Selfish Post
Warning: this is going to be possibly the most selfish, self-centered post you've ever read. If you are at all offended by selfish behavior, you may wish to back away now. I am writing this because I need to get it out, and I think that this is what blogs are good for. Proceed with caution...
I am now 50 years old. If I thought that I was going to wake up on my birthday suddenly possessing good judgement and sage advise, I could not have been more wrong. I am tired. Tired of trying to meet other people's expectations, tired of apologizing when I don't. All I can really do is to apologize. So here's an apology to the people who I've wronged in the past and some who I seem to continually wrong on a regular basis:
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I wasn't more self-motivated as a child so that I could have learned to play an instrument well and given my father something to be proud of about me before he died.
I'm sorry that my career is not a raging success and that I am a terrible housekeeper and could not give my mother something to be proud of about me before she died. I'm sorry that she felt that she had to turn to my sister-in-law as the daughter she wished she'd had.
I'm sorry that I didn't make more of an effort to stay in touch with and visit my family in North Carolina in the years before the death of my nephew. I'm sorry that I tried to make amends and probably just ended up looking pathetic.
I'm sorry I was such an insensitive bitch as a young adult. For sure, I have reaped what I've sowed.
I'm sorry that I am married to a man who is compelled to display his love for me every few years with grand gestures, but that I know that he is making himself feel better about the fact that I am his on-demand verbal punching bag the other 364 days of the year. I'm sorry that each dollar that he spends on these grand gestures represents a "F-You", or a "Go to Hell" or a "F-ing C-nt". I'm sorry that I probably deserve this treatment because I am such a bad housekeeper and breadwinner and that I should be thanking God for a man who would do these wonderful things for me periodically. I'm sorry that I don't have the guts to leave him because I know that practically nobody would sympathize or understand. Except for my daughter who resents that I didn't leave him years ago.
I'm sorry that when my daughter has traumatic events happening in her life, that I try so hard to talk her through them in a way that is both loving and helpful, but that the pattern now seems to be that I end up failing and my mother-in-law rides in on her white horse and makes it all better.
I'm sorry that I have never taken psychology classes and that I have this unending need to find honorable intentions in everyone, even the people who seem to be the most dishonorable. I'm sorry that I don't believe that any bad situation will be solved by automatically assuming dishonorable intentions. I'm sorry that this clouds my judgement and causes me to betray the honorable people in my life. I can't help but feel that I will someday pay a huge price for this, but I don't know how to change myself. If hindsight is 20/20, then I should have bionic eyes.
I'm sorry that even when I am trying to be at the top of my game at all times, I will predictably let down my guard and screw up and fail to meet expectations and let people down. This is really nothing new for me, but it seems worse to me now because I go through periods when I really do feel older and wiser - but it turns out to be an illusion. I am never going to be older and wiser. I am always going to be the person who fails to live up to expectations. It is my life and it's who I am. The sooner I accept this about myself, the sooner I will stop expecting that I will ever play an important role in anything significant. The sooner I can accept that I need to question and second guess everything I do before I do it, the sooner I can decrease the disappointment that I am causing for others.
I can't tell if this really is the most incredibly selfish post or if it is just me trying to come to terms with who I really am and what I am capable of and what is beyond my capabilities. Maybe I will be happier if I stop trying to be something I'm not. What I know for sure is that I am tired of constantly being a disappointment. I never thought of myself as being someone who is scared of her own shadow. Maybe that's who I really am and maybe that's how I need to proceed from now on.
If you've read this despite the warning message, I am sorry if you are now completely turned off. I tried to stop you, but, like most everything else I've tried to say or do, I've failed. Don't feel bad. You're in pretty good company.
I am now 50 years old. If I thought that I was going to wake up on my birthday suddenly possessing good judgement and sage advise, I could not have been more wrong. I am tired. Tired of trying to meet other people's expectations, tired of apologizing when I don't. All I can really do is to apologize. So here's an apology to the people who I've wronged in the past and some who I seem to continually wrong on a regular basis:
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I wasn't more self-motivated as a child so that I could have learned to play an instrument well and given my father something to be proud of about me before he died.
I'm sorry that my career is not a raging success and that I am a terrible housekeeper and could not give my mother something to be proud of about me before she died. I'm sorry that she felt that she had to turn to my sister-in-law as the daughter she wished she'd had.
I'm sorry that I didn't make more of an effort to stay in touch with and visit my family in North Carolina in the years before the death of my nephew. I'm sorry that I tried to make amends and probably just ended up looking pathetic.
I'm sorry I was such an insensitive bitch as a young adult. For sure, I have reaped what I've sowed.
I'm sorry that I am married to a man who is compelled to display his love for me every few years with grand gestures, but that I know that he is making himself feel better about the fact that I am his on-demand verbal punching bag the other 364 days of the year. I'm sorry that each dollar that he spends on these grand gestures represents a "F-You", or a "Go to Hell" or a "F-ing C-nt". I'm sorry that I probably deserve this treatment because I am such a bad housekeeper and breadwinner and that I should be thanking God for a man who would do these wonderful things for me periodically. I'm sorry that I don't have the guts to leave him because I know that practically nobody would sympathize or understand. Except for my daughter who resents that I didn't leave him years ago.
I'm sorry that when my daughter has traumatic events happening in her life, that I try so hard to talk her through them in a way that is both loving and helpful, but that the pattern now seems to be that I end up failing and my mother-in-law rides in on her white horse and makes it all better.
I'm sorry that I have never taken psychology classes and that I have this unending need to find honorable intentions in everyone, even the people who seem to be the most dishonorable. I'm sorry that I don't believe that any bad situation will be solved by automatically assuming dishonorable intentions. I'm sorry that this clouds my judgement and causes me to betray the honorable people in my life. I can't help but feel that I will someday pay a huge price for this, but I don't know how to change myself. If hindsight is 20/20, then I should have bionic eyes.
I'm sorry that even when I am trying to be at the top of my game at all times, I will predictably let down my guard and screw up and fail to meet expectations and let people down. This is really nothing new for me, but it seems worse to me now because I go through periods when I really do feel older and wiser - but it turns out to be an illusion. I am never going to be older and wiser. I am always going to be the person who fails to live up to expectations. It is my life and it's who I am. The sooner I accept this about myself, the sooner I will stop expecting that I will ever play an important role in anything significant. The sooner I can accept that I need to question and second guess everything I do before I do it, the sooner I can decrease the disappointment that I am causing for others.
I can't tell if this really is the most incredibly selfish post or if it is just me trying to come to terms with who I really am and what I am capable of and what is beyond my capabilities. Maybe I will be happier if I stop trying to be something I'm not. What I know for sure is that I am tired of constantly being a disappointment. I never thought of myself as being someone who is scared of her own shadow. Maybe that's who I really am and maybe that's how I need to proceed from now on.
If you've read this despite the warning message, I am sorry if you are now completely turned off. I tried to stop you, but, like most everything else I've tried to say or do, I've failed. Don't feel bad. You're in pretty good company.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Heaviness
I am writing another blog entry this week in an attempt to lighten myself. I feel heavy - in both the physical and mental sense. I feel as though this blog is like cardio for the emotions. That's what it's been for me in the past. I really need it to be so now.
I feel physically tired, mainly because of my weight. I am not going to write any more about my weight right now. I am fat, period. Everywhere I go, when I meet people for the first time, I feel their thoughts. "Fat woman. Pleasant. Nice hair. Fat."
I feel mentally tired. I am trying to prepare myself for the challenges that may lie ahead at work. The time for my manager to retire may be upon us faster than anyone planned. This could mean big changes and big challenges for a few of us. I don't know if I'm ready.
I feel emotionally tired. Hormones raging, and my bodily organs and functions are unpredictable. They betray me in various degrees on an almost daily basis.
The sadness grows exponentially by the week. I simply don't know if I can work with these people. I love to sing more than almost any other activity on earth, but these people have drained me of the desire to open my mouth. Worse, they have made me afraid - something that I have never been before on this Board. The idea of replying to what appears to be an innocuous e-mail request fills me with dread. What am I afraid of..... I am afraid of misinterpreted words. Not misinterpretation by those who I don't care about. Why would I be afraid of that? On the contrary, I almost expect it. No, I fear misinterpretation by those who I care for more than I care for my self. Because...... I am not the only person who bears emotional scars. I can stand almost anything that may come of this disastrous grouping, except for one thing. I could not bear the loss of my friend. I don't know exactly why I fear this, but I do and it is an irrational fear that I can't shake. If I "speak" in an e-mail, I may say the wrong thing. If I don't speak, I risk being unsupportive. Either way, I lose.
Ok, so there it is . And I don't feel any lighter. What to do. What to do.
I feel physically tired, mainly because of my weight. I am not going to write any more about my weight right now. I am fat, period. Everywhere I go, when I meet people for the first time, I feel their thoughts. "Fat woman. Pleasant. Nice hair. Fat."
I feel mentally tired. I am trying to prepare myself for the challenges that may lie ahead at work. The time for my manager to retire may be upon us faster than anyone planned. This could mean big changes and big challenges for a few of us. I don't know if I'm ready.
I feel emotionally tired. Hormones raging, and my bodily organs and functions are unpredictable. They betray me in various degrees on an almost daily basis.
The sadness grows exponentially by the week. I simply don't know if I can work with these people. I love to sing more than almost any other activity on earth, but these people have drained me of the desire to open my mouth. Worse, they have made me afraid - something that I have never been before on this Board. The idea of replying to what appears to be an innocuous e-mail request fills me with dread. What am I afraid of..... I am afraid of misinterpreted words. Not misinterpretation by those who I don't care about. Why would I be afraid of that? On the contrary, I almost expect it. No, I fear misinterpretation by those who I care for more than I care for my self. Because...... I am not the only person who bears emotional scars. I can stand almost anything that may come of this disastrous grouping, except for one thing. I could not bear the loss of my friend. I don't know exactly why I fear this, but I do and it is an irrational fear that I can't shake. If I "speak" in an e-mail, I may say the wrong thing. If I don't speak, I risk being unsupportive. Either way, I lose.
Ok, so there it is . And I don't feel any lighter. What to do. What to do.
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