I have spent some time messing about with Instagram (photocat24) and am rediscovering the fast and easy happy feeling when receiving comments. My life is not that big and interesting, but it is big and interesting enough for me, and it’s fun to share little bits out of it via Instagram, a little free phone app that lets you take wonderful phone photographs. Easy peasy. I am aware that I often use the same two or 3 filters. A simple gal keeps it simple. I will snap some today of our art afternoon we are having. Sandra, Jessica and Olivia are coming over, and I have a gelli plate ready in the fridge. Honest to god. The plate will be fun. Maybe I will dash into town to get some extra water color paper. When the print bug is in my kitchen, I go through paper like a hot knife through frozen butter.
And why might I have been missing in action from my blog?
I got shocked. Seriously. The person who shocked me knows who he is, further elaborating is not needed. But lets say that the voltage was sufficient for a complete meltdown on my side. I had to install a new fuse box. It took me a couple of days to arrange things in my head, and now I am back in action. The level of aggression I got was PHEW, GET OUT OF HERE PHEW… DOG ON IT…
Why is it that communication with some people has to end in disaster? And why do people still feel the need to stump below the belt and kick where it hurts the most? I don’t know…
I guess it is uncertainty and not having a firm grip on their own life. Which goes for all of us on some days. We all have crabby days. The question is whether it is needed to work that crabbiness out on the wrong people.
Long time readers of this blog do know that I had a couple of “minor issues” with nuns in my school days… Serious issues that took me a long time to get over, most of the abuse has now been classified under done and dusted. But when I am tired and worn out, that’s when the old skeletons in the closet pop their ugly head out. Last week I was trying to have a conversation, but failed miserably because the other party did NOT want to listen at all. Not to my story. I did not have the correct mittens to get this little ciabatta bread out of the oven.
Lets make this story short: the other party claimed that my childhood nun experiences were fables and made up. Thank you other party. I will now cut you out of my life completely. I don’t need people who spit nastiness in my face without a solid reason, and I don’t need people who do not know how to listen.
It’s baffling how few people really know how to listen. The art of listening is on the decline. Few people get it that listening is easy. The other party does not need an answer, or justification. I keep preaching that when listening, the only correct thing to do to say : I have no answer for you and/or I don’t know what to say. Because that is what most talking people want to hear. We don’t want answers or being talked down or being hit with sayings that it will get better… When down in a well you don’t want to hear that you might get back out. All you want is someone to acknowledge that you are at the bottom of the well. From that point on one can start looking on how to get back out. If that at all is the goal in the first place.
I must say though that someone not really knowing me telling me that my childhood “was not that bad was it? Your stories are all fables!” really kicked ass. Telling an abused person that it was after all not that bad is grove negligence. And pretty unforgivable in my book. How many times can a donkey hit the same stone and hurt its foot? I have been a donkey.
Having said all that, for the same bit I did have friends who I could tell the story of the meltdown to, they did listen, telling me that they had no words. Which was what I needed. Badly.
The new fuse box is now working and in full swing, and I do have one person less to worry about in my life. Which is good. It’s hard to realize that relationships with certain kinds of people are not livable. They are a dead born child to say it with a flemish saying. Gutwrenching to experience and totally bad ass energy. I will move on in the knowledge that what goes around comes around.Share