A confession.


I am jealous of you.  Probably most of you.  I realize I shouldn’t be but I am, painfully, angrily, jealous.
I’m not jealous of what you have – your stuff.  I could have your stuff.  If I started making different decisions in my life, set your stuff as my goal, I could have it for myself.  I don’t want your stuff.
I want your emotional freedom.
I want to be angry and not feel guilty about it.  I want to have opinions and not feel obligated to be able to justify them in any way to any one.  I want to be mad and not hold it in.  Why do I care so much that it will hurt you or make you sad to know that you made me mad?  I say “you hurt me” then just give in as soon as you give me the “golly gee I didn’t MEAN to hurt you”.
They say there are two sides to every story.  I’m sick of being understanding of the other side.  Of refraining from standing up for myself because I ‘see’ your side too.
I want to state my opinion, or get on my soapbox, and when someone starts in on me I want to tell them to shut up.  You don’t have to agree with me.  But I don’t have time to explain myself to every Tom,Dick and Harry.
I want to pout that it’s not fair and not feel guilty about all the other starving-walking up hill both ways-momma didn’t love me people out there who have it worse than I do.  There will always be someone out there worse off than I; that doesn’t mean I can’t have a bad day.
I want to sob at a funeral without feeling like my sobbing, and the comforting attention I would receive from someone, would be somehow stealing comforting attention from someone more important-someone closer in relation- to the deceased. (I actually refrained from crying at my grandfather’s funeral because I felt my mom and my aunts had a bigger “right to cry” than I)
I am jealous of your bravery.  Your unwillingness to compromise how you feel.  Your boldness.  Your ability to share your emotions without hesitation.
I’d like to know it feels like to NOT pull a punch.  Say it and meant it, even when it’s hard.  To say “stop walking on me” without changing it to “I know this is the only way to walk, so how about we just walk on me softly okay?”
Just typing this post, THINKING this post, fills me with guilt.  It is my ability to see someone else’s side, their point, or their perspective that has put me in the position to be a peacemaker with friends, at work and with my family.  I am the one who holds it together in a crisis, the one who talks everyone through the conflict, the one who holds the boat while everyone else is rocking it. Why would I want to be so mean? To hurt others? To rock the boat?
Do you ever just wish you could go postal, for one day, and say it all?

8 thoughts on “A confession.

  1. Laurie Harley says:

    Honey, you can go postal. =) I’ve always believed that Mothers hold families together. I know it firsthand in my own household. But you know that saying, “If Momma isn’t happy, then no one is happy”? It is so true. We hold keep our cool during a crisis. We smile and encourage when others are crying. We bite our tongues. But sometimes, we need a break, or we might just go postal. Take your break, girl.

  2. TaderDoodles says:

    The guilt that I feel over just thinking about upsetting someone else is overwhelming. Nevermind the fear that they will get mad in return and leave me. I’ve known Mr. B for almost 14 years and I am very careful about how I say things to him because even though I know he would never leave I’m still scared.

  3. Peggy Brister says:

    I can’t say I know how you feel. I don’t. I don’t feel guilty about very much of anything. I do say exactly what I want to when I want to. I guess that makes me an asshole, but I don’t hold my emotions in. I don’t know how. I feel like if I even tried to I would explode. The minute I feel upset I have to get it out. I may not tell YOU that you upset me but I am going to tell SOMEBODY that you upset me. I don’t know if you can change who you are and how feel about things like that. I don’t think I can.

  4. Rhoni Renee says:

    That’s why we write. Even if it never makes it to a public blog, writing is a great way to vent.
    That being said – sometimes people NEED to be confronted w/their actions. Sometimes they NEED to hear “Hey. That hurt.” Only you can control how you react to them. And you can’t control how they react to you. But sometimes they need to be educated.
    Why do you think you feel such guilt?

  5. TaderDoodles says:

    Peggy, you are in fact one of the people I am jealous of. I cannot be blunt and honest like that.
    Rhoni, When I tell someone ‘hey that hurt me’ I either get
    1. “are you really telling me that I AM that mean” – guilt trip b/c thats NOT what I was saying at all
    2. “can’t help it, that’s just how I am”
    3. “I know I’m a horrible person and should just die.” OMG THE DRAMA!

  6. Jenn says:

    There are so many days when I feel this same way, most days if I’m going to be honest. Just today I would have LOVED to go postal on a family member but alas, I did not. 🙁
    You are NOT a horrible person…sometimes we just gotta say it as it is!

  7. Rose says:

    I hear you loud and clear. I am so tired right now of holding everything together because I keep being reminded that my attitude sets the tone for the whole family. So in order to keep the whole family happy I try to stay happy no matter what. And that’s not working too well for me right now. Not that things are bad, but they are stressful and I feel like I’m not allowed to feel that stress, acknowledge it and work through it. Shall we pick a day and go postal together?

  8. Laurie Wallin says:

    Oh, yes. Yes I very much do feel that way. Just about every day! We have this thing called the 1 minute blow-out in our house. Where I can just exPLODE for 60 seconds (if profanity is required I go do it in my closet…) and then I take a deep breath and move on. Because otherwise, constantly parenting therapeutically for my foster/adopt mentally ill daughters would disintegrate me.
    Give it a try. It’s very very nice 🙂

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *