But they say that what annoys you most in other people is what annoys you most about yourself. And I, ladies and gentlemen, am a natural at complaining. I have been known far and wide in the past for bemoaning my situation in life. One nice soul was kind enough to never be annoyed by it but always told me that he never took it as complaining: it was like I was informing him. I was glad he took it that way. I don't often desire people to help me or try to change my situation: as much as I am inclined to complain I am inclined to wear my feelings on my sleeve and be intolerably open. I have since learned to put some form of a damper on my openness but still the squashed desire remains.
I have not complained about being sick accept for maybe a slip up with one or two comments in the last week. The last couple days there have been many more slip ups and every time I even mention it I feel like kicking myself and washing my mouth out with soap. I'm not sure where the line is between complaining and informing because honestly it's not a sin to inform someone of your situation or be honest. As most things are, it is more than likely a heart issue.
My desire to not complain bleeds into other areas of my life. I do not like to ask for help. (I get the distinct feeling that my entries make me out to sound more and more like the stereotyped man every day...to anyone who has not caught on from the "i" at the end of my name, I'll have you know I am a woman.) I do not like to ask for help and I do not like to give other people any portion of my responsibilities. I do not like it when people sacrifice for me or give of themselves for me. I do not like to inconvenience people. I do not want to be a burden. I do not want to be obnoxious. I want to be the least amount of intrusive as possible.
It borderlines rediculous: someone in a position of authority over me offered to help me with some of my work. It's a part of what they are there to do: support me in what I do. It was typing up a list of names: they asked if they could help me in any way and I hesitated for an awkward amount of time and wrestled with the idea until I finally gave in. It took her all of five minutes to complete the task and I still felt guilty. There's something wrong there.
I have been so far to one side of the spectrum in desiring help and complaining that I have completely swung to the other side and refuse to ask for assistance or let people know how I'm doing. There is a balance out there somewhere and I'd like to find it. I think I'll start with looking at my heart before I go to say or ask for something: I'm counting on it being the compass by which act.
My experiences today involved being sick. Most of what I do is write about my experiences and what I feel or what I've learned. Before I started writing I wanted to write about those experiences, but felt too guilty that I'd be complaining to feel good about it: even now I feel guilty for writing this final paragraph. But here goes nothing: I feel weak and tired. My elbows ache and my throat is raw. My nose is stuffy and my eyes burn. I've spent the last two hours that I wanted to be sleeping catching up on my blog of which I never feel satisfied with what I post and always wish it sounded better and was organized better. Oh I'm such a poor and loathsome creature! I stink at being funny: despite what people tell me out of courtesy, I am not a comical person. This entry is my pathetic attempt at light heartedness. But I, in the end, am ill, and it makes me feel lazy but ultimately do the things I most enjoy, and feel a bit more loved as I baby and pity myself a bit more than usual. Thought: how loved I feel is partly due to how I love myself? Well that's a post for another time and another day...
10/16/11
No comments:
Post a Comment