i’m a loser baby, so why don’tcha kill me…

when you are a weak person in many ways, what do you do?

what do you do when you are easily distracted, when you have problems and there are things that get to you? when you can’t handle your anger and you are so consumed sometimes that you can’t really solve your problems and are distracted from what you have to do?

in my experience, denying the problem and trying to live with it in a calm fashion as though it does not exist doesn’t really help. reducing a mountain down to a small dot is not really possible. it is not possible to play hopscotch over Mount Everest.

It is possible, however, to move back home and admit that you are not a mountain climber and that it is more appropriate to play hopscotch on your driveway. It’s easier to navigate a bit of a slope, or a flat surface if you have grown up and moved away from your childhood home in this ridiculous metaphor.

It’s important to know that you don’t really have a duty to anyone but yourself. In a way, you almost don’t really have a duty to your family – no, not even your children. Your duty to your children is to remain sane for them so if they drive you crazy figure out what to do within your limitations so that you can be there for them in the way that is appropriate for your situation. I had a discussion with a good mom once and that was the conclusion that was arrived at. I’m not a mom – so that sounded good to me. It seemed like an appropriate way to apply boundaries.

If you’re a weak-boundaried person, perhaps you are NOT weak. Maybe it’s like a muscle. Maybe you shouldn’t be tasked to carry such a heavy load. Maybe it’s not really your problem. Maybe you should only ask yourself to deal with what you can deal with at the time you can deal with it.

I myself think that I have been dealing, emotionally, with too much. I have been taking on responsibilities, emotionally, that are not mine. I have been adopting roles that I should not have to play. I have not been enjoying liberties that I should get to indulge in. I often suffer in secret silence. I do not talk about being sick very much, and take time to myself to heal. I do not discuss rejection, because I am too proud. I suffer the proximity of those who have hurt me, and I have done this all my life. I should be allowed to apply distance and not have to show up when I think that doing so would shame me.

I’d like to hear an honest speech of defeat, and if I were a politician, I would give one. I don’t know what I would call my political party – and that is a subject for a far denser blog anyhow that I’m going to have to grow a different Sort of Courage to write; which will take time – but the tone of my speech would contain:

1. I worked REALLY hard to get here and I sunk ALL my hopes into this race.
2. I have very little agreement with my opponent and am feeling pretty jealous and bitter right now. Giving this speech is hard and it’s hard not to cry. I’ll do all I can to help, of course, and I will be as nice as pie and try to be gracious – but damn! I’d like to kick the proverbial rock and sure pout a little bit!
3. If at all possible and if I have the strength, I’m going to keep trying to achieve my goals.
4. It sure is embarrassing to lose when you try so hard.
5. All the mean things that people said about me hurt my feelings, because I like validation as much as the next guy. It’s really HARD to turn the other cheek.
6. “huh, huh. I said cheek…hehehehehe” {no, I wouldn’t say that. this is probably why I wouldn’t entertain a career in politics though. i am a child}
7. There’s lots of other stuff I’d probably say about my honest feelings. I’d try to put myself in the best light possible of course, but I might be honest about needing to get what I want.

Point is, for a while, I’d go away to lick my wounds, and not hang around the white house, or the mansion, or the place of office, or whatever – and torture myself while all the Fun was going down. Because I don’t think I’d be able to plan my next attack very effectively.

That’s just really not how I roll. I’m quite the sore loser.

Kick a rock.

i’m a loser baby, so why don’tcha kill me…

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