I found myself in tears yesterday during a discussion about relationships with difficult people. We’ve been going to a small home church for the past two and a half years and our group has become pretty close. They’re like a second family to us. I wonder how often they get tired of me pushing the envelope though.
I always want to talk about reality and how what we’re talking about applies to issues we’re actually having. Call me a realist, but I believe my faith should be able to answer issues I’m having with the world around me. Faith and religion have obvious applications to helping the poor and being kind to the less fortunate, but what about the friend that’s stopped talking to me?
What about the parent that I can’t be involved with anymore? What about the manager I can never seem to please? What about the co-worker that treats me like a threat? What about the child I wish I could love better? What about the spouse I never reconciled with, and the entire family I removed from my life? What about the fiance I failed to love well? What about the man I now claim to love more than all of them? If I truly love him better than all of these, then my best is a sorry standard. I can do better, but my best is sadly broken.
I blotted out relationships that were toxic, but they’ve left me poisoned. I have failed to be better, and now I am bitter. My heart doesn’t give anyone a chance, because I cannot bear another disappointment. I narrowly escaped a nervous breakdown and turning to substance abuse and all the dysfunction that goes along with it, but I didn’t survive unscathed.
I laughed when I learned that RBF (Resting Bitch Face) was a thing people talked about. I laughed because I’m pretty sure my default mode is Bitch now. I’m probably not as bad as most, but compared to the meek, sweet, old soul I use to be, I feel like a complete bitch most days. My tolerance is so low, it’s a wonder I have any relationships left to speak of.
This is, of course, a massive exaggeration of reality. My house was brimming with people who love me just a few months ago. They didn’t show up because they were afraid I would be pissed off if they didn’t come. They came to love on me because it was my birthday and they wanted to see me. Friends I’ve had my whole life. Family that has always stuck by me.
But such is the way of the introvert. We mull over feelings that are the most pronounced, not the feelings that are the most often felt.