Slipping in the Poo

imageIt’s a funny thing…This white page staring blankly at me when I sit down to “create” this next post. As if it is trying to intimidate me into being a quitter. The old Matilda may have done just that. I would have said “screw this. No one will read it anyway & if they do, they will think I’m foolish.” New Matilda doesn’t necessarily disagree. But I have decided that there may be one person (other than my amazing mother) that will find this written journey somewhat entertaining & quite possibly even helpful. You know what they say, if we can help even one person, the effort was worth it. (By the way, if that ever happens, PLEASE, let me know!) What you don’t know is that in this adorable little head of mine, sits a very ferocious beast. A beast that enjoys playing with it’s food so to speak. I mean, it’s my darn brain. Why does it work so violently to keep me from being successful or happy?

This was not the planned post when I sat down this evening. Truth is, there was no plan. I actually had about 60 thoughts running through my mind, none of which was about my foolish, self sabotaging brain. Anywho, I was discussing with my therapist once how our brain needs to process our experiences & when it doesn’t, it develops a coping mechanism to, well, cope. I believe I have mentioned previously that I’m a represser. I like to fold my mental messes up nice & neat, then jam them all willy nilly into a corner somewhere. Not so much as a thought about processing. I don’t claim to be a brain surgeon, or a therapist, but even this makes sense to me. I get stuck on the processing largely because I don’t know what this means to a “normal” person, one who processes.

Thus bringing me to my next thought. I have so many valuable people in my life & I’m pretty sure that most of them are running around this earth unprocesssed. I am working through my own crazy life, so no judgement here. All I can say for sure is that as I uncover those morsels I have jammed into the corners of my mind, I realize one thing. THIS GIRL IS A HOT MESS! As a firm believer that our experiences shape us into who we are, I’m not sad or angry about this revelation. PS. I knew I was a hot mess way before this conversation with my therapist.

I work in an office full of women. There are a handful of very unlucky men but mostly women. I don’t know most of them. I know the ones on my floor & a smattering of others. I love them. I truly do. But women are jerks sometimes. Spending 40 hours a week with anyone will quickly prove this. But once in a while, in the pile of poop, we see a shiny penny. At my office, I have a pile of pennies with a little poop. These women have carried me through the last 3 years & I can proclaim without a doubt in my mind that they are one of the reasons I survived.

My conundrum occurs here. What do I do when the pennies begin to stink? Shall I explain? Sometimes people show their ugly. Even sweet, little, lovable me. Now I told you in the beginning that I hope I love those uglies. That I control my words & actions so I do no unnecessary damage to someone else. Well, let’s just say that this week, I fell in the poo.

It has plenty of justification. In my mind. My day job recently moved into a new building. Not all of the computer stuff has moved. Things are much slower. Think snails on the freeway slow. Plus I added a responsibility due to the move that requires a good 4-5 hours a week in an already tight schedule. I am very conscientious about my work. I try to stay current, never behind. Due to this move, I am 6 days behind. So when I was getting berated at 7:00 AM Thursday by a coworker with a history of a negative attitude, down I went. Right into her poo. In front of my boss. Now, my boss & I have known each other a long time. She knows I do not behave as such unless provoked. And within a few hours, me & the stinky coworker were just fine.

This is why I prefer to LOVE the uglies. I said ugly words in response to her negative comments & there I was, feeling like a giant jerk. I didn’t make myself feel better by spouting off, I certainly didn’t make my coworker feel better or turn her into a positive thinker. Instead, I left 3 people carrying my uglies around. Sure, it’s easy to say “they can disregard it. We don’t have to own other people’s uglies.” But we all know that is easier said than done. We all know it depends on how we are feeling emotionally. Plus it takes a while to shake it off. We aren’t ducks, words aren’t water. Those unprocessed events in our lives I was mentioning above hold those callously tossed words like a sponge & can dredge up more & more ugly responses. Since we don’t know the depth of other’s journeys, it’s always best to treat them with gentle unconditional love. Even when they don’t do this for us. Especially when they don’t.

OK kids. With that being said, watch out for the poo. Share a little love. Smile. Be pleasant. Love the uglies.

So so much love to each of you! 💗

Matilda

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