I received a notice that this is my 3rd anniversiry for An Arkansas Atheist. Prost! to year four.
A few days have passed now since my last MM. I have pushed back, trying to make daily mediation and yoga routine wining that particular battle. As per usual, somebody took the time to assure me they believed I would find somebody, someday. It pisses me off so fucking bad. Glad I didn’t say freak out. What goes through the mind of somebody, who assumingly read the fucking blog, thinks “I’ll find the right person” after reading how my mind feels it already has. They then followed that up, once I voiced the very little “give a fuck” I have in me and starting to become agitated with unwarranted optimism, felt the need to remind me or to defend themselves, by saying the most ruthless shit you can say to someone who’s sickness made them abusive, “you were screaming at her to leave.”
There seems to be a special kind of laziness and failure of empathy to tell someone who’s wife left them because of cancer, “well, you had that cancer.”
I wasn’t doing very well well yesterday before that conversation, and that shit kicked me while I was down.
I don’t like blame at all. I don’t blame others for hurting me, they were battling their own issues.
I have taken responsibility for all of my actions, I work hard every day to not hate myself for being mentally ill and hurting people when I did. I own it like a purple heart. I hurt people so badly: screaming, wall punching, chair throwing, angry, wrathful, hateful, fear-causing, abusive (are those enough to expose my understanding?). Yet, do we blame “me”? Who I am today?
Our moral instinct says no, but my dear friend’s words yesterday say differently. Blame is instinctual, and when we ourselves are feeling weak, finger pointing is one of our “go-to’s.”
This is an educated man who knows me very well, and will likely read this blog. What was his point? To remind me, as I sat in the car next to him, having not abusively lost control for months to anyone, feeling sadness daily over the whole mess, that I drove people away by being sick? This is the stuff I talk about everyday. So, some tender passive-aggressive advise giving from yours truly:
When you see a friend trying to shake off months of depression from a relationship, and having a losing day, don’t remind them of how bad they made it on the person they lost, who they love more than life itself. If you can help it, don’t point out the very thing that affirms why they are in such pain. You may think you are helping, but what you are doing is abusive and may make them cry, a lot. They will still be your friend, but know that you just accidentally set them back. It isn’t something you should apologize for, as that will remind them of the whole thing. If they are truly as strong as you thought they were when you doled out that nice bit of info, they have already forgiven you. Cut your fucking losses, and don’t remind sick people they are sick. When they have the strength to talk about it, they will, then torture them all you want. It isn’t “hard truth” when the person is wearing a sign of that very truth around their necks; it is venting frustration on the person you seek to help.
Handy that I am strong enough to deal with this, angry, sad, and hurt, but the same as I was before—aware.