Category: Intricacies

Collision Course

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Honestly? I very much dislike Sunday afternoon walkies, especially when the weather is nice. Why? Because everyone and their mother is out and about as well. And if you adore people as much as I do [sarcasm off] you surely understand, because strange as it is, these “encounters” usually happen on Sundays…

Lilly and I are walking, enjoying the sun and the birds’ cheerful singing. Then I see a larger group of people coming towards us. They were walking three-in-a-row, taking up “my side of the narrow path” as well. They came closer…and closer still… One of those people, a man roughly sixty-five years of age, keeps coming straight at me, no sign of him moving aside. He was going to force Lilly and myself into the mud and bushes.
Well? One of my goals for this year is, to no longer be pushed around by other people and to not back down to just any Tom, Dick and Harry on the street. Even though I was taught as a child, to respect my elders, this situation wasn’t about disrespect towards that man. If anything he was disrespecting me [in my thinking].
I kept walking, looking him square into the face, signaling: “Oh, no no. I won’t back down. And if you refuse to move aside to let me pass, you’re going to have to run me down”. That did not faze him whatsoever. What do you think? At the last possible second he moved aside, still brushing my shoulder. What a prick, no?
I hate Sunday walkies, did I mention that? In passing, he mumbled a few choice words under his breath. Be proud of me, because instead of firing America’s finest vocabulary right back at him, I just kept walking, not giving him any response or satisfaction of knowing, that I was bothered by this scenario.
In the end, I had my “little triumph”, by not backing down to this dipshit. And that’s a fantastic reason for a lovely Sunday evening, instead of dwelling on that encounter today, no?

Questionable Motives

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Very rarely do I meet someone and immediately get a “potential-friendship-vibe”. While this statement may well be received as “overly dramatic” by others, it is true nonetheless. Actually, every lasting and meaningful friendship I was blessed with in my lifetime was initialized by the other person. Whatever, we’ve been down that dark, depressing alley a time or twenty-five...

Currently, that neighbor lady and I are making progress. But there are days when our lifestyle differences, and frequent misunderstandings leave me doubtful about any long term friendship potential. In general it never takes long until people get frustrated and call me exhausting, difficult and tiresome. Why, oh why did I think she would be the exception to the rule? Even more interesting is why on God’s green earth she keeps coming back for more? Most often she is the one, who initiates any conversation or activity…
Without the intention of wanting to accuse her of anything, I wonder why she wants to hang out with me? Maybe spending time with me gives her a feeling of superiority? Maybe she enjoys dazzling me with her intelligence, while letting me know simultaneously how dumb I am by comparison? What other motive can there be? She’s the type of person, who has a lot to share and I don’t mind that. Not only does it teach me to listen more and speak less, but more so, because I don’t find myself or my life all that exciting and share-worthy. She, in turn, likes to talk about her countless friends whom she’s known for decades. Well? What do you want with me then, I have to wonder? They are so well educated, do exciting things throughout their lives, traveled far, have impressive, expensive homes…yada, yada, yada. Am I supposed to be jealous? Of her friends? Of the things they do, or have? Am I supposed to feel lucky, that she gives me the time of day at all?

Sadly I don’t think that she and I will reach the friendship status, because I placed it on a pedestal. But that’s okay. Perhaps we will continue going for joined walks with the dogs, or meet up for a cup of coffee upon occasion and have good conversations. Now if I manage to not take everything so personally, or to question everything, and instead take this for what it is – without expectations, or the need for labels, I may end up happier with her being a part of my life for as long as it is meant to be.

How About ‘No’?

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Here is a ‘skill’ no one should have: the ability to casually steamroll you into doing things you don’t want to do. All, while your ear is being chewed off, in a conversation you never wanted to have in the first place…


Dogs need to socialize, and I would never deny Lilly the opportunity to meet other dogs or to interact with them. Regrettably, most often that involves small talk on my part as well. This annoying, useless chit-chat is something, I could very happily continue living without. Especially, when some pushy broad tries to force friendship on me…
Yesterday morning Lilly and I made our way back home, when all of a sudden I hear a lady yell “Is that a poodle”? She comes storming out of her house towards us, all wound up, asking yet again if Lilly is a poodle. I told her, that she’s a poodle mix and wanted to be on my way. But that woman started yapping…and yapping, seemingly not even stopping to take a breath. No chance for me to cut her off and get the fluff ‘out of Dodge’. Hell on earth, she was at it without end in sight. And what do you know? Right quick she started in on me, like: “hey, give me your phone number, so we can hook up for joined walks with the dogs”. As it turned out right then she has a little poodle, who came running out into the street. That explained the woman’s excitement, but not her intrusive behavior towards me. I should have communicated clearly and honestly, that I’m not interested at the minute, not after having just met. But instead? Being incredibly overwhelmed and annoyed by this woman, I wanted to get away ASAP without being rude. I definitely did not want to give her my number and have her call, or text me frequently. Yet, it was the easiest, quickest way to get rid of her…In the end I figured that it’s easier to block her number upon my return home, rather than having to explain myself right then and there, dragging this conversation on even longer.
Gosh, darn it. I failed yet again, at setting boundaries for myself. It wasn’t up to that pushy broad, to notice my overwhelm or my unease in that situation. I should have put my foot down and told her off. And the fact, that she didn’t let me get a word in edgewise, is no excuse either. I’m to blame for being steamrolled by her, because I allowed for it to happen. Maybe next time I can manage to say ‘no’!?

Thought Control

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Daily writing prompt
What is the biggest challenge you will face in the next six months?
View all responses

Although the daily prompts are still reliably on repeat, I do have a different answer for today’s question…

In a recent post I discuss an irrational [?] fear of my mom’s house going up in flames within the next two years. I keep seeing a mental image of us standing on the opposite side of the street, as our house burns to the ground. The write-up in reference is called Please, Not Again!, in case you missed it. My biggest challenge in the foreseeable future, as of right now is, to keep this fear of a possible fire in our house “under control”, instead of these truly frightening thoughts taking charge of me, and everything I do in the coming months. In the end, heaven forbid my worries should become reality, everything will be okay as long as my mom, Lilly and I remain unharmed. Positive thinking needs to be my goal, no matter how challenging that is at present.

“Big Bang Theory” To The Rescue

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The evening before last, seemingly out of nowhere, I thought about rearranging my living room. But why wait for daylight, when there’s no time like the present moment? Yep, I rolled up my sleeves and started moving furniture at 7 PM. I got pretty much everything done, with the exception of one shelf. I could not make up my mind on its placement. This morning I asked my friend to come over to share her thoughts and ideas about it with me. And we agreed rather quickly, that the shelf in question should stay where it currently is. But then, she asked if she could show me a couple of other ideas. Trying to be open-minded I gave her the go ahead. They were only minor changes. M.I.N.O.R., but inside of me everything went haywire. When she finished pulling the couch away from the wall a bit, and arranged the table and chairs just slightly different, I was unable to pay attention to the story she was telling me. My focus was entirely on the little changes she made and how much that bothered me. Gawd, am I such a control freak? Frightening? Yea, just a little bit…
My friend was barely out the door and I put the furniture back. As soon as everything was in its intended place again I was so relieved, I’m ashamed to admit. I felt like a pressure cooker, ready to explode. Unbelievable.

However, instead of getting upset or frustrated with myself, I remembered one of the Big Bang Theory episodes, in which Amy tries to cure Sheldon of his compulsive need for closure. His issue is a bit different from my desire for ‘order and perfection’, but I sympathize with him and can relate to that overwhelming need. A few good laughs saved my day and I’m grateful beyond words for it. Below, I’m sharing a clip from that episode. Maybe it will help you get through something upsetting as well…

Scene from the “Big Bang Theory” | Source: YouTube

Please, Not Again

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I don’t recall the exact timeframe, when this began to happen: every time something worries or upsets me, I ask a question out loud with regard to my concern. For example: “will …………. happen”? My instantaneous reactions have been correct more often, than I care to admit. A smile indicates that whatever troubles me will most likely be unwarranted. If I start to cry, or have a hard time breathing, it is a sign that there is validity to my fear. The situation or problem may not play out precisely the way I feared it would, but close enough. Now on to my current worry, and why I explained the above prior to diving into the topic…

You may have gathered, that I lost all of my belongings due to an apartment fire two decades ago. As a coping mechanism this incident is being repressed, in order for me to function and move on with my life. It probably should have been addressed in therapy, but wasn’t considered “important” by the therapist at the time.
The past couple of days I’ve been having flashbacks about that Saturday night. Simultaneously there’s this underlying fear, that I may have to endure another fire in the house or my apartment within the next two years. However, my mom told me yesterday, that our tenant left for vacation shortly after christmas, with the candles in his living room burning and the dishwasher still turned on. My mom only became aware because she was asked to open and close the shutters daily and to water the plants. Imagine, if those candles would have been burning without being discovered in time… Oh my days, I don’t want to think this through. She purposely didn’t tell me right away because she knew, what this would set into motion. And here we are. I try to keep the panic in check, with limited success. Yesterday afternoon I was in my craftroom, fairly calm, working on a new project. So far it turns out pretty well, so I went back upstairs in a good mood. But as soon as I sat down to listen to my favorite songs for a while, the pictures about us standing in the street, watching our house go up in flames kept coming back. That’s when I asked out loud, whether or not this will happen, and started to cry immediately. It took quite a while to calm down again. I probably drive myself crazy over nothing, right? There’s no need for panic, right? Good heavens, no one needs such an experience even once, let alone twice. I know, that I can’t talk to my mom about this [and my asked out loud question], because she will personally check me into to the psychiatric ward. Perhaps speaking to my neighbor and friend about my worries is the better option. Or should I keep it to myself? Gawd, I don’t know. How do I keep that panic mode under control? I thought about making copies of the most important documents, as well as a few small items my heart is very attached to. But where do I store it? Well, experience taught me, that as long as I have my little puppy girl, I’ll be okay. Everything else may have value, but in the end they’re just things and not that important. Okay, the first step is to pack this backpack I think. Even if it’s a silly thing to do, but at least I’m doing something. Second, I will make sure that Lilly wears a collar at all times from now forward, even in the house, so that I can grab her more easily if necessary. Good riddance. Am I going off the deep end? I can’t let this fear get the best of me, but then again, that’s easier said than done.

Rejection Hurts

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To be perfectly honest, I have become disappointingly good at repressing truths that are hurtful. One of them being, that my mother’s son completely rejects me. For years I’ve been trying to reconnect with him and my sister-in-law. Unfortunately, there’s no progress to be made. He just hates me. The truly sad part is, that I don’t even know why. My mom talked to them both a number of times, trying to find out the reason. I have asked them flat out, to just tell me what I have said or done to upset them so much. No answer. I’m given the silent treatment and distance. Throughout the year, not seeing them at all, it is becoming easier to repress the fact that they reject me.
Now, the Christmas season is upon us once again, the time for families to get together, spend quality time, create memories and simply be happy. Well….in a perfect world maybe.
Why is it such a struggle to accept something for what it is, to try and move on? Perhaps it could be more easily done, if I knew the reason for being rejected? At least then, I could try to make amends with them. I could reflect my behavior and learn from it. Because I have this obsessive need to understand everyting, and could not get answers any other way, I reached out to a psychologist on YouTube, who does videos every Saturday and responds to questions and problems of her viewers in the comments section. She actually responded back to me, saying, that most likely it is nothing that I said or did to him/them. She thinks, that my mother’s son is probably not happy with himself, or his own life and projects that onto me. It is also possible, that he is jealous of me, because I lived far away by myself and managed my life without “the family safety net”. There have been some truly rough times, as you’ve been able to learn throughout my time here on WordPress. But I wasn’t “stuck all my life” in the area in which we grew up, like he was. At the same time, no one held him back from doing what he wanted, not even his wife. Why does he hate me for the choices he made? Neither my mom, nor I can come up with a plausible reason to justify his rejection towards me. I will have to find a way to come to terms with this situation the way it is, because there is no sign, that it’s going to change anytime soon. 😢

Muffled Screams

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Holy crap on a cracker, I haven’t done this in a very long time. And perhaps it would be a good idea to reinstate this practice, whenever I’m about ready to explode, like right now. Where is the next available pillow for me to scream into?
Okay. Deep breaths. One thing after the other…
I just started cooking, because my mom is not feeling well and wanted to relax on the couch for a while. But she is not happy unless she can criticize me once per day. She just can’t help herself. It took less than 10 minutes, for her to come into the kitchen to “check up on me and to see what I’m doing”. It’s always the same, and it riles me up to no end.

…”Don’t you want to do this first….”
…”I would have done it like this…”
…”Why don’t you try it like this, it’ll be better/easier…”
…”Why don’t you use this instead…”

Oh my days! Just quit micromanaging me! I’m not cooking for the first time ever today. Gawd.
Does she think that I’m incapable of doing anything without her supervision or guidance? At the same time she wonders, why I’m so hard on myself, always aiming for perfection – and failing miserably, of course. Thinking back to my years in America, I miss my independence and my freedom. No one told me anything, it was up to me. The good, the bad, all of it.
Yaaahhhh, I know. She is elderly, I should have patience with her and overlook moments like these. The issue is, that this is not a due-to-old-age problem, it’s been like this for as far back as I can remember. You know what? Sometimes I miss those few thousand miles between the family and myself. They are so much easier to like with a lot of distance in between. Sorry, it’s the truth.
Alright. Now a nice big spoonful of Valerian and I shall get back to “neutral mood” right quick.


After All…

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…She Was Correct,

and who would have thought that? Well not my mom, apparently…
It is an ongoing issue between the both of us, that she questions nearly everything I say. No matter if I read something, had a conversation with someone, or draw from my own life experience. She won’t believe it, until two to three other people tell her the exact same thing, or she hears about it on TV. You know, I try to keep calm on the outside. But it drives me bonkers inside. What is her point? Does she think her daughter is a notorious liar? Of all people she should know, that I’m terrible at “telling tales”, and therefore gave up even trying.
Most recent example: A few months ago, I read an article about feeding birds and the best types of feeders. It was stated, that a classic birdhouse, while adorable to look at, is not hygenic. Due to the fact, that the little visitors can get inside and leave their droppings among the seeds, others may end up getting sick. It was suggested to use feeders with just small openings instead.
After reading the article, I purchased one of those feeders. When I brought this topic up in conversation, the response was something like this: “And straight away you’re in panic mode, believe everything you read and make the suggested changes. Yes, it can happen and the birds could get sick, but what are the chances of it happening”?
Now just the other day, in one of her evening shows on TV they discussed this very topic. And what do you know? The very next morning she said to me: “Oh, you know what? You were actually right about the bird feeders. They talked about it last night on TV. Do you still have that other bird feeder for me to use, so that I can take the birdhouse down”?
Honestly, I’m getting to the point at which deep breaths, counting to five and all the “om’s” in this world won’t help anymore. Does my mom think I make up stories? What would I achieve by doing that? I should not let it get to me, I know. But it does take a toll, increasingly so. Most of all I can’t help but wonder, what that says about our mother-daughter-relationship in general.

A Disappointing Morning

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Up in the attic are still toys and books from childhood, that I stubbornly refuse to let go of. Other treasures from the 70’s, my heart is not quite so attached to, were taken to the local thrift store to be donated. That was our goal this morning, and then…

The employees were overly picky and disrespectful, saying things like “that book is old, no one wants to read that” and “the box is not in perfect condition, we won’t accept that” or “those toys have little blemishes, we have no use for them”. I had my “verbal guns” at the ready, when one of those men said to his co-worker “gosh, the kind of crap these people bring us, do they think we take everything”? [I know that I have an anger problem sometimes. Justified or not, but that disrespect and ungratefulness was really setting me off]. Lucky for them, I did not have to “aim and fire choice words” at them, because my terminator face mirrors my emotions. They could clearly see, that I was not amused by their behavior. Such a disappointing morning.

Am I wrong, thinking, that thrift stores are geared towards people, who specifically look for items you can’t buy in other shops because they have the value of being old(er) and are perhaps no longer produced? Aren’t those stores also in existence for people, living on a tight financial budget? And if so, I doubt very highly, that these people mind very much, if things have little nicks and dents, so long as they still work properly and are affordable! How do I know the latter? Let’s call it personal experience. When you have to turn every penny twice, you simply can’t afford to be that picky. Even if something isn’t exactly what you would like and the item is everything, except new and perfect, you still appreciate having found it at a much more affordable price. A small monthly budget will teach you gratitude right quick, let me tell you.
Where is this ungratefulness coming from? What is up with disrespct for toys and books our parents, and we ourselves grew up with? Why are items from decades ago not appreciated and valued for their age? You probably think that I’m overreacting, and that’s fine.
I would really like to support our local thrift store and its good cause. Unfortunately they lost my respect this morning. I won’t take precious-to-me items there to donate any longer. And I won’t shop there either in the near future. Being ungrateful for offered donations is one issue. Being disrespectful to the people, who want to do a good deed, is another. Both is equally disappointing and I refuse to support such an attitude, simple as that.