I'm Too Hard On Myself And No One Gives A Sh*t Anyway

I should seriously ease up. It's been almost 30 years since the first member of my immediate family died. And his opinion of me was, is and always will be: "You're special. I love you. You can do anything." And everyone once in a while he'd throw in a: "Promise me you won't grow up to be a stupid b*tch!" That one is hard. It's made more difficult by the sheer volume of people out there making stupid b*tch a verb. (I'm docile till provoked, like an alligator). Like some people (more than I realized), I'm the last member of my immediate family. (Pretty sure I'll die alone from the residual trauma of the sh*t show, so that's handy). This wouldn't be so terrible if I didn't attract so many people. You get sick of explaining your unorthodox background. Then you get smart and start explaining it simply, sounding like whole milk hymns and using as few words as possible. It gets easier to do. It gets easier to deal. It's not even that bad when you leave out the unpleasant parts. Or you hear some of the other entries from people in the 'who had it worst' contest. Humaning is difficult sometimes. Sometimes it's so easy I forget that it's all in my head. It's actually enjoyable! I get along with people but that often becomes a problem. People feel really comfortable with me. Too comfortable. Expressing their love or dislike. Usually of me, to me. Off the hop it's obvious there's something different. But not what*. I don't own a Lambo. My daddy's not an Ambassador. I'm not a nurse. I don't have a handsome husband or beautiful kids. I'm not actively attempting to save lives here or abroad. I'm not in a church. I don't have a large loving family. I can't advance anyone's career with my connections. I don't play the violin or cello. I'm not friends with a celebrity. I can only show so much compassion. I'm not a volunteer in a third world country. I don't take expensive tropical vacations. I'm not anyone's bridesmaid or bride. Sometimes people get p*ssed off at me because I'm not impressed. Like, I'm obligated to validate someone's purchases, endeavours or existence because they're in my face? lol Ironically, not trying to impress people is incredibly impressive to some people! Like reading a book at a pub or brewery (extra points if it's in German). There's no one left to impress. (Foot off the gas). If I had someone to impress I might not wake up every morning to inevitable death with the pragmatic relaxed manner of a long-suffering loving wife. I might not feel like I'm resetting everything for nothing? Or worse, I need to be further than here. Further than me. First world problems make me feel bad for having them. And for feeling bad, for feeling bad. I feel pretty bad for being here in the first place (we even?) 😄. *I do own a mint old Dodge that I don't spend much to get serviced and learn how to maintain myself for free. My granddad was a superhero. I'm whatever I need to be when I need to be it. I have "...a 1,000 lonely husbands" (I'm "playing footsie in another dimension"). I've worked, volunteered, hung out with and cared about other people's beautiful kids. I saved a 6-year-old boy's life once, and I always wonder if that exposed him to years of abuse? I work at a Sunday school, and I was Jebus' mom Mary in my school's grade 7 Christmas pageant. I have a large loving group of dead relatives and friends. Living people that like me, love me a lot (and people that hate me, I give a d*mn good reason). I make people feel more confident or proud with my presence; cracking jokes, stating facts, smiling silently, helping out, feeding dogs, jury-rigging... I play drums, well enough to jam (anyone can fiddle if they play the violin for fun, on shrooms). I'm friends with people who don't use me. I can only be real (but I will humour people). I'm still alive because I can volunteer in a first world country with blind individuals, service dogs, children, vets... I was born in the Miss Universe factory which is essentially growing up in a (poor, but happy) tropical vacation. I'm not dead yet. And I'm still too consumed to feel comfortable being anything to anyone. Plus, c'mon, Stacey and Vince style or nothing! Dude's gonna have to man up, step up. Not live with (or to impress) his mom. I do have a bad habit of dating boys who let me down, posers, who have treated me like it's a privilege I'm with them ("cause you're white or??! Oh, it's cause you're mormon, okay"), who let me make "maximum effort". Someone once told me narcissists (people that use people) know how to pick out someone 'nice' or kind. They know you'll put in the work, care about them and if they treat you 'less than great'? They know you'll put up with it and probably even try harder to make up for their lack. Who deserves that? I know, "I ain't all that bad, but I ain't all that great..." And there's no scale of justice for all. So there's no need for the judge. No blame in having standards though 😘

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