Mary and i have been like water and oil the last couple of days. it started really when Mary’s acquaintance told me to use a different voice in my writing, even though i have a well establish voice that i use. that put me in a foul mood.
then, we had a discussion about moving some plants around and what plant belongs where. as happens sometimes, she talked over me. i tried three or so times more to make my point; i couldn’t even get in a word. i reached a point of frustration and close down. Mary asked why i closed down and i told her. she did apologize, but by that time, i felt completely torched and couldn’t reengage. if only i didn’t experience my emotions so deeply.
i left for a meeting. a half hour later, four texts waited for me, each one reminding me of my brokenness.
upon arriving home, our heated discussion continued, not so much about the plants but how the discussion about the plants happened. i just kept hearing about my brokenness. additionally, at a time like this Mary continues to push her point and doesn’t back down. eventually, i had enough, felt completely shattered and left.
i turned off my phone for awhile. when i turned it back on, 5 more messages waited for me reminding me of my brokenness. i stopped reading them. i know full well i am broken, i’m human after all, i really don’t need other people reminding me i’m broken.
as i drove home, i searched for something profound to say. most of the time that doesn’t happen, i can not find anything good to say. within blocks of making it home, a spark happened.
mistakes were made–move on
if only we could have each lived that, life would have been so much better. first, i would recognized the mistake of someone trying to change my well established writing style and i wouldn’t have been in a foul mood. i could acknowledged the mistake of Mary talking over me- and moved on. Mary could have recognized my mistake of shutting her out and could have stopped pummeling me with each and every bit of brokenness i have. then i wouldn’t of felt 1/4 inch tall. with all this non-buildup i would have found no reason to walk out.
but if it only stopped there.
yesterday, Mary came home stressed about her day, her life and me. i began to feel overwhelmed. i had planned to go to dq yesterday when they gave away fresh soft serve cones for national ice cream day. i invited Mary. then, in the whiniest voice that i have not heard in years i heard, “i have a headache. i don’t want to go.”. i left in a huff.
so my text queue built up a with near certainty with another stream of reason describing my brokenness. i didn’t read a single one, but replied, “ mistakes were made–move on”.
if, only i could live that, i would recognize the mistakes for what they are and i would not be completely floored by them. i would be much better off. Mary would see my mistakes for what they are and stop using them as ammunition to regularly remind me of my brokenness. hopefully, my brokenness that i feel far too often might begin to abate and i might have a better chance to get on top of my depression.
it would be a novel idea, but what if everyone could get this tattooed to their forehead, mistakes were made–move on. it would serve as a constant reminder to acknowledge mistakes and move on. that would minimize some 80% of interpersonal problems, and make the world a better place. so, ya game?