feeling bad

I BROUGHT IT ON MYSELF

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I can honestly say that today is not a wonderful day. It is hard for me to be happy for no reason or any reason. Certainly I am in no mood to be happy for you, whatever circumstance in life you may be in. I sound like a person with a bad attitude. You can safely say that I am a bad person altogether. It would not bother me.

What I know for sure is I am my own best friend. No one knows me better. No one can take care of me or can make me feel better. And when I am feeling the worst and need a shoulder to cry on, that’s the worst time for me to seek solace from another. It’s the best time to be quiet, not do anything but know that I am ok. There’s no need for action. What else I know for sure is I am human. In the heat of the moment, all good sense run out the door. And I react and do what I told another not to do. And because I know she had the same, experience I sought solace from her. She was kind enough, soft spoken enough but told me that I brought it on myself.

Can I say that I was a little surprised? She went on to say she was happy to welcome me again but not to bring my drama. I can understand that. Really I can. But I had not known her well at all when she knocked on our door a few months ago with her drama, her tears and plea for help. We welcomed her with hugs, offered her tea and gave her help. Not once but on 3 occasions. I remembered hours on the phone listening to her trouble with the same crazy neighbour. I gave her advice of not engaging with her at all. I told her to seek help from the police liaison. I told her all this, and yet I went against my own advice yesterday. I am human, damn it and I engaged, yelled and screamed. I was so frustrated and angry I thought I was going to explode. I thought talking with someone who had a It similar experience would help.

I had no tears and only want to ventilate. I did receive an ear and some soft spoken Christian lecture of where I had erred. It didn’t understood or comforted but it didn’t anger me either. It was rather sobering and eye opening. I am thankful for the encounter. It made me realize how naive and Pollyanna I am. I am always willing with open arms, tea and an ear to another’s distress. I cannot think fast or see far enough to form judgements to lecture. Soothe first is my motto. I am not sorry that I am a Pollyanna or that I am a feeling, reactive person.

I am not happy that I had this episode. I feel bad, as if I had a psychotic episode. My stomach hurts and my thoughts are galloping in tandem with my erratic thoughts. It’s not at all good for my health. Here’s my advice again on dealing with someone like my crazy neighbour. Do not engage. Do not look at her. You will never win. There’s no winning here. I use win for lack of a better word. And here’s why you/ I cannot win.

  • She does not allow me to speak. She will talk over me. She even talks over the police.
  • She’s fixated and hates me and my yard. My raised beds are coffins. She plants pine trees in my/her yard. My solar panels brings down the neighbourhood’s property value.
  • She is always right. She’s very clever and fast changing stories. She has accused me of giving her a parking ticket. When I asked her how I could do that when she parks in her own driveway, she said it was her mother that I gave the ticket to for parking on the sidewalk. She refuses to bring her mother to talk to me when I asked her to.
  • She accused me of sending her a letter last year and she still has it. When I ask her to show it to me, she refused and keep refusing, talking over me the whole time.
  • She accused me of redirecting her mail, writing on them that she has moved.

I could go on forever. And that’s the trouble. Once I’ve engaged, it’s hard to break off. She makes me so angry I keep going back and back, screaming, yelling to no avail but to make myself ill. And I do feel ill. And I have brought upon myself. She is mentally ill. I’m not. She can’t stop but I CAN. BUT there should be something in place so that someone like me should have to be subjected to her antics. It’s bad for my health. The police said that it is not fair to charge a person with mental health. Is it fair to me that she allow to do this to me? It’s going on towards 13-14 years at least. Yes, right. I have to remember I’ve brought this on myself. I really have by thinking less and taking care less of myself than another.

USE IT OR LOSE IT

August 11

Surprisingly, I had a whiff of energy last evening. Not to waste it, even though it was not my time of doing things, I took the vacuum stick and sucked up the dog hair on the floor. It did not take all that long to do the kitchen, dining, living and the sun room. Next, I tackled  the dirty screened window in the sunroom. I’ve been looking at it all summer and haven’t made any move on it. My energy is like that. I know it and learning to work with it.

My brain is such that it gets overwhelmed easily. I have to work in the one-inch frame that Anne Lamott speaks of and E.L. Doctorow’s ‘Writing a novel is like driving a car at night. You can see only as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.’ They’re referring to writing but I apply it to everything. Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life is a book full of such wisdom.

I am happy that I started this conversation in the morning. I am happy I paid the house insurance this morning. The afternoon has been a bit of a struggle. I am feeling the seasonal bad, but not sad. I can’t think at all. Doing a simple sewing project is difficult. Trying to figure how to measure and cut on the bias felt like doing brain surgery. Having the right equipment and tools helped alot. In the end, I got my bias strips cut and sewn to specification. But somehow one end ended up in my cup of coffee. So now it’s rinsed off and hung up to dry.

Sheba and I have been out and back from our walk. Nothing exciting except I did dropped the roll of doggy bags and didn’t even know it. It was lying on the sidewalk, waiting for me on our return. I think I should call it a day. I should make a cuppa, put up my feet and read my murder mystery. It’s always good therapy for my foggy brain.

GETTING IT ALL OUT

It’s wise men who say don’t watch the news before bedtime. All the world’s tragedies flashed before your eyes in a matter of minutes. The gas explosion in a bakery in Paris, killing 3 people, the bus crash in Ottawa, killing 3, injurying 23. The story on where our plastic waste ends up (in Malaysia) sent me into despair and depression. I felt the ridiculous efforts of our recycling. I threw in my innocent and laughable hopes and went to bed.

All this is still with me this morning. No such luck as to sleeping it off. I feel depressed, down but not out – yet. I’ve fallen off  doing Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages. I’ve come here instead. Who says you have to write it out longhand with pen and paper? Tapping on the keyboard is an effective tool for me. Adding photos and videos satisfies some of that creative need in me. Doing all that defuses some of my negative feelings.

Talking about negative emotions, are they so bad? Is it shameful to admit we get depressed, disappointed and unhappy? Must we feel elated all the time? What about when bad things happen? It’s only normal that we feel ‘bad’. There are times when anger/whatever is the only logical and healthy reaction to have. I feel so confused when people put on a polite front. I feel such a failure in their presence.

At the same time I’m so sick of  hearing about wounds and healing. Are we all walking around ripped open and bleeding? I don’t mean to be insensitive. I am was/still is in woundology (Caroline Myss’s terminology) myself. Sometimes I DO hear myself (now). It’s time to change my tune.

I’ve gone on long enough. Talked and revealed too much. Time to shut up and say good night on day 13 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m feeling challenged.