Life overwhelmed me. That, or I under whelmed it. Either way, I wasn’t prepared for the amount of effort it took.
Life seemed to take less effort for everyone else. They just showed up. Here we are now, entertain us. Like they were owed something just for breathing. I hate these people, present tense. They are definitely a work in progress. See, they have it easier than me, better than me, and they don’t deserve it. My ego tells me I’m light years ahead of them, that I wouldn’t trade places with any of them, so how dare they act all important? Can’t they see they’re shit?
I never just showed up. True, I seldom brought a dish to pass, but I always had to prepare for whatever was ahead. Dinner with friends required as much prep work as a court date, and I viewed them very much the same. Something I needed to make ready with drink, so I could get through, so I could go drink.
I drank before I’d meet up for drinks. I needed a head start. I needed to beat my mind and my resentments into a dull roar just to hang out. Suppressing the urge to stand up, throw something of theirs at the wall and say, “Fuck this shit,” and walk out. No explanation would be necessary. They know what they are. I’m amazed they thought I’d sit and smile through their self-congratulatory back-patting parade.
But that doesn’t happen. At least, not anymore. First order of business, I eliminate interactions that might go wonky whenever possible. Secondly, I recognize that when I show up, I show up with a track record and a history that needs to be slowly erased through good behavior and honesty.
Even if I don’t achieve total ease I’ll at least minimize the uneasiness of those around me. It’s a start.