i’ve found a really good way to manage the occasional feelings of angst, melancholia, and moroseness. it works far better than i thought (or expected) it would.
instead of feeling abandoned and wondering what’s wrong with me, i feel curious about what’s wrong with ‘them’. all the ‘thems’ who went on and on about what a wonderful person i was and then, dropped out of sight.
i know most of the reasons. and for the first time, i’m feeling pretty good about saying them straight up and without any sense whatever that i’m off base. after all, i’m a good, caring, giving, warm, loving, and loyal person and friend. not a single one of ‘them’ could say otherwise.
indeed, if anything, they were surprised and put off at the notion that i do have boundaries beyond which i will not allow them to take me for granted or abuse my care and trust. what, precisely, does that say about ‘them’? they expected never to find a boundary? they expected to never have to do more than take? that they expected to have everything on their own terms, and never have to give much thought to anyone but themselves?
you know, i think i’ve been hanging out with the wrong people. with selfish, self-consumed, rather cold people. after all, when you care about someone, you can’t do the things all of ‘them’ have done.
i’ve been taking stock of things. mostly as the result of the combination of this last abandonment and the return of someone who, apparently, thinks that they have the right to try and guilt me over being done with them now that they have finally decided they need me again.
i have to tell you, when the girls are all in agreement that we’re just not taking it anymore, things are changing. and with the advent of icons and symbols being relinquished wholesale, i believe that i am finally making progress.
i went looking for something that might express where i am and how i’m looking at things lately. i tried looking for lyrics or well known words, but in the end i think maybe my own work best….
all my life, granting benefit of the doubt
waiting and making excuses
as if there could ever be
an excuse for making trash
of treasure
i gathered the debris
sorted and stacked it
no longer surprised
to see perfectly good things
cast aside
disposable, they said
no longer needed
newer, shinier things
with which to play
i feel my shoulders lift, straighten
the weight of a trove in my arms
i hug it to me and smile
recycled and rescued
they’d be surprised
how well it shines
when cared for
only three excuses remain
excuse them from my life
excuse them from consideration
excuse the dust
i am recycling