the skin of my emotions lies beneath my own
Stages of my hurt feelings:
- Ask “wait, what do you mean?” …as if the person truly cares about increasing my understanding. Or truly cares about anything for that matter. I don’t yet recognize my naivety.
- Laugh along as if I think it’s funny too. I was just joking when I asked for clarification. Aren’t I funny? Keeping the joke going like that? Hoo boy. Talk about funny. Sooo funny…
- Quietly realize that I don’t actually think it’s funny and quickly force the corners of my lips upward. Smile smile smile.
- A quick attempt at diverted conversation. What are they talking about over there? Ooh, that’s so interesting. Really, I’m interested… no really… I’m not just trying to divert my brainwaves. Honest.
- When the topic that originally stung me comes up again—yes again, and then again, and again, and AGAIN—force myself to laugh again, and again, and again. It begins to get old. Increasingly difficult to pretend.
- Recognize that if this doesn’t stop soon, there’s a very real chance that I’m going to cry. In front of all these people. Don’t cry, Kelly.
- Think about something else. Immediately. And don’t stop thinking about something else until I can get out of there. …This is weird; it has been incredibly long since I’ve felt this way, and the strangely familiar feeling burns like a long-forgotten wound.
- Thankgoodness, it’s over and I can leave. A strange mix of relief, irritability, and hidden embarrassment fight for dominance inside.
- Home. Finally alone. In the freedom of my own space, my embarrassment morphs into anger. Anger at the people laughing. Anger at the person talking. My mind suddenly flows with all the cruelly honest things I could’ve said to hurt the offender. Ooooh, I wish I had thought of these things in the moment. Is this satisfaction I feel?
- A rush of relief that I didn’t think of those things in the moment. And no, that feeling was not actually satisfaction, just some superficial counterfeit. If I had said those things, I would’ve been filled with one of those sensational feelings that soon burns away, leaving me feeling worse in the end.
- That realization puts my mind at ease for a while. I find myself in an empty calm.
- Now that I’m calm, maybe I can reassess what happened objectively.
- No. Not yet. Still not objective enough, and I slip into feelings of despair. Global sadness: my emotions are no longer directed towards the offender specifically, but now at humankind in general. People are rotten and insensitive. People are shallow and bigoted. People refuse to consider other points of view and other people’s feelings. There is no hope for the world and I wish at that moment that I weren’t a part of it. It seems humans will never change. Misunderstandings thrive. Hate grows. And we destroy one another. So it always has been. Must it always be?
- Recognizing that I’m being ridiculous doesn’t make me feel better.
- Some ambient music and a mindless puzzle game help me divert my thoughts again. Gosh, this music is hypnotizing. I find calm, again. Maybe this time it’s more real.
- And here we are at the present. I consider this strange cycle of emotions… doing so is oddly therapeutic. How interesting to replay the night’s events without feeling my emotions stir up again. Instead I’m just a curious (almost) disinterested observer examining how those events once caused my emotions to ignite. I feel like I’m peeking into a shoebox diorama of my own brain… on my blog. (Well hello there world.)
- Peace? Probably not quite yet. But I guess at least I’m closer.
Category: lists, quirks, what's inside 6 comments »
December 17th, 2008 at 1:07 am
Did you use the wrong fork with a salad? I hate when I do that.
December 17th, 2008 at 8:38 am
You know what else sucks about situations like this? Crying because you are angry. I don’t cry in front of the idiot that started the situation, but later in my “angry” stage, sometimes I end up crying out of sheer frustration.
And I feel like it’s another “victory” for the idiot who started the problem.
And I feel like I’m less of a person from my apparent inability to deal with my frustration minus the waterworks.
But I will continue to tell myself that it really IS better to bite my tongue in the situation and act like an adult (whether the idiot is or not), and then take the consequences later. It REALLY wouldn’t help the situation if I just launched my own barrage of acidic commentary that (as you pointed out) is probably all too true. No, that probably wouldn’t help at all. Probably.
This was a really long comment. Sorry.
December 17th, 2008 at 1:05 pm
Kel,
You are an amazing writer. I have felt exactly what you have described… though I do not know what happened I am sorry and it’s a sad fact that people are cruel and find unusually great tactics for making others suffer. I sure love you. Miss you. And all that other jazz.
Cher
December 17th, 2008 at 9:27 pm
I hope it wasn’t anything I said in our conversation the other night….
You girls with your cryptic blog entries.
December 18th, 2008 at 12:24 am
Oh dear, Lauren. No way. I had a good time visiting with you Saturday. I’m sorry to make you feel paranoid. What I wrote about here actually was an experience with no one who reads this blog (at least that I know of… I suppose you never really know who’s looking when it comes to the internet).
Cher & Star, Thanks for the love. It’s nice to know I’m not the only one who feels this way sometimes. The killer thing about this incident was that it shouldn’t have even been a big deal. I realize now that the person wasn’t really trying to be cruel… just trying to make a joke without knowing it was such a touchy spot for me (and then repeatedly making the same joke over and over and over). What’s hard for me is feeling like I SHOULD easily get over it, but not ACTUALLY being over it yet. Ugh. It sucks to feel bad about feeling bad.
And Loyd, don’t hate me, but I actually used the dessert spoon for my soup. What I want to know is: why put it on the table if you don’t want me to use it yet?! Oh, the shame is unbearable.
December 20th, 2008 at 3:22 am
Man, I hate idiots.