The noise in my head has subsided. My heart has chilled and slowed as if taken over by a bypass machine. I need the extra oxygen. I need the help and rest. I can let every care go now. Otherwise I will get overtaxed and become ill. The leftover pizzas from yesterday helped. There’s the chocolate chip cookies yet. Thank God for all the carbohydrates! Now I will go and make myself a pot of tea.
I am declaring today my resurrection and independence day. It has been difficult living on tip toes, worried about stepping on others’ toes. In reality it is mine that are being squashed. Being my mother’s daughter, it is just ridiculous to worry about intruding and encroaching on another’s rights/property. I’ve been brought up to bend over backwards to be a good and virtuous person. I’m shedding the scarecrow’s outfit and putting on my righteous outfit.
I’ve not really lived in fear of my sociopath neighbour, but rather in dread. She behaves as she has the right to dictate how and what should or should not be in my yard. She feels no qualm ‘weeding’ or spraying my yard. She has planted a row of young spruce trees on my property next to her driveway. She has taken away things we stored in our yard next to our garage and fence. She thinks it detracts from the beauty of her lawn. Then she thinks it’s alright to put her heavey crates on my property when she has a huge yard and driveway. What harm would they do? She asks. They would scratch her driveway and not good for her lawn though.
If you think I’m sounding petty, maybe I am. I am tired of being pushed emotionally and otherwise by this woman. I’ve been letting her do it for at least 8 years, since she’s moved next door. Things like this tends to spread to other areas of my life. I doubt myself. I wonder if it is me that is being difficult and unfair so I don’t stand up for myself. I let myself be pushed and manipulated into feeling guilty everywhere.
Well, enough is enough. A straw coat is a fire hazard. I better put on a suit of armour or thicker skin. I don’t really want to fight but I have to stand my ground at some point. I’ve pulled out some of the little spruce trees she’s planted. It’s really a ridiculous situation. I’ve been a scarity cat with no back bone. The other little trees will come out soon. I will call 911 if she gets abusive or/and violent.
2 thoughts on “Being A Scarecrow and a Scarity Cat”
Good luck, Lily. Difficult neighbors can make anyone’s life miserable.
Thanks Des! I can personally testify to that. But I’m chugging along.