Wednesday, September 9, 2015

The Land of Irritation or Depleted or Something Else

You bug me.  Yes, you.  Whoever you are.  If you're reading this, you bug me.  And so does everyone who's not reading this.

Right now almost everyone and everything irritates me.  A lot.  And I don't know why.

I'm severely limiting my social interactions, digitally and in real life.  Because I can't keep up the facade.

I can't pretend the things you're saying or doing or wearing or eating aren't making me crazy.  It takes so much energy to be polite and smile when I really just want to go off on a diatribe about how ridiculous I find you.

I absolutely know how self-centered this sounds (because it is).  I understand how un-Christlike this sounds (because it is).  I get it.  And in my heart of hearts I don't feel this way.

But in my nerves I do.  I don't want to.  I'm working on it.  But right now I do.

And my isolation is for both of us.

I'm certain my facade will eventually break down when we're together, and I'll tell you how whiny I think you are.  I'll tell you to quit complaining and either do something about it or just shut up.  Which will hurt you.

Which will hurt me.  Because I will feel your hurt and carry the weight of that in my heart and on my back.  And I just don't have that strength right now.

I think part of the reason everyone and everything is bothering me is because I feel like it's my job to fix all the problems.  All of them.  All of them in the world.

I know it's not.  In my head.  But in my heart I feel differently.  Accountable.  Responsible.  At fault.

And I want the world perfect.  I want the world to be the way I want it.  That includes the people and their behavior.  And if I'm accountable, at fault, then it's my job to fix it.

But it isn't.  And people get very irritated when I try.  (As well they should.)

So I'm just going to pull back and give myself some space to get through this.  It's kind of like taking my ball and going home because you won't play what I want to play, only a bit more mature (I hope).  You can keep the ball.  I'm just going home.

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