A lot of good stuff has been happening lately.
Stuff that’s coming out of my involvement with a weekly accountability group, and a few interesting classes, and a lot of work. Oh, yes, a LOT of work.
For those of us with two settings (“full bore” and “off”), even with the best of intentions and calendaring and firewalling time off, a lot of work can creep up on you. Mostly, like the boiling frog, you don’t even realize how close you are to a fine fricassee until someone or something flips the lever into the “off” position. And if you’re going fast when it happens (which, given the two speeds, is pretty much a given), momentum is suddenly and very much not your friend.
This weekend, the lever was flipped in the car, which is very much where I do NOT like things to happen suddenly. And yet, there we were, The BF and me, both tired, me cranky (how does he never get cranky?), circling for parking. I was already irritated that we were circling for parking because it was hot (not my fault) and I was tired (totally my fault) and I don’t especially like driving, so any extra of it I have to do when I’m already tired and hot makes me even crankier.
Still, I’m not a complete dumbass; I know that when it’s like that, I need to move slowly. So I swallowed the irritation and chugged along, finally espying a spot near our destination. A spot not quite big enough to pull into, so I slowed down even further, put my right turn signal on, and moved ahead of the spot, as we were taught to do in Driver’s Ed lo, so many years ago, and which they have apparently stopped teaching, along with PAYING ATTENTION, because the car behind me, instead of slowing down and/or moving to the passing lane, pulled up hard on my ass. Which meant that I had to wait it out or give it up, and guess what Miss Crankypants was not going to do?
I could go on and tell you about the near pile-up because of even more people who hadn’t taken Driver’s Ed, or the honking, or the yelling at me to move, but the salient issue (beyond my being overly tired, with no room left in which to act like a compassionate human being, just enough to scream “MINE! MINE!”) is that when The BF made a gentle suggestion that, right or wrong, we abandon this course of inaction, I screamed, screamed, like a crazed, frothy-mouthed caricature of Anger Management personified, “Do you wanna drive?!”
To which, after a pause, he replied, “Yes. Yes, I do, actually.”
To my credit, just about the only credit I’m going to give myself as far as grace points in this particular situation, I didn’t fire back: I paused, took it in, and pulled over to let him drive. Because even in my crazed, frothy-mouthed condition, I could tell (thank JEEBUS and my 20 million years of talk therapy) that I was toast.
It is painful to recall the mix of anger and shame I felt in that moment, and for the rest of the day, but both were mightily and handily eclipsed by the feeling of terror. Because I finally had a crystal-clear, if very ugly picture of the way things might go if I didn’t change course right now and forevermore. This was an epiphany of a much different and more dreadful sort than the blissful, Elizabeth Gilbert-esque, dancing angels and white light one I had in my hospital bed many years ago, but it was no less of a peek behind the curtain and to this one, I gratefully say, “No, thank you.”
No, thank you, I do not want to hurt the people closest to me. Or anyone, if I can help it. Kind of runs counter to the mission statement around these parts.
No, thank you, I do not want to hurt myself. Better that I do that, I think, if it’s a choice, but when I go down, it’s a burden on even more people. I’ve seen it; I know. So no. No, thank you.
I’m still a little shaky from the whole affair, which I think is good. I think that’s the point, if there’s one to be drawn from this. This way is not sustainable. So. There will probably be some more changes to the changes I was already planning to make.
Also? I will fuck up. Oh, I will most surely fuck up. It’s a given. So I’m asking for help and grace both to make the changes I need to and to see me through the almost inevitable fuckups. I’m not asking you, in particular; you’ve got your own row to hoe, farmer.
But I will toss out there, ever so gently, that if you are at all like me, if you see any of yourself in this, please slow down. Please make some room. Wiggle your toes to remind yourself you have a real, physical body that can get hurt and can, even inadvertently, hurt others. Take a breath to maybe stop yourself from getting to the place where you might.
I will. I am, right now.