Oreos and Adulting

I’m sick of this being-an-adult bullshit.

Yes, I’m sure I’ve kvetched about this innumerable times already. Are you sick of listening to me bitch? How the fuck do you think I feel?! I not only have to live this ferociously vida loca, I have to listen to myself whining about it. And that, mes amis, is totally fucked up.

Ya know what’s exhausting me most about me right now?  

Despite it being a vastly superior and effective means of communication, I am way frazzled by efforts to be gracious and diplomatic (or my attempts to be so). When a friend or family member makes an inconsiderate, ill-phrased, thoughtless or in some other way beastly comment, I want to counter with scathing verbal blows. I want to be childish and lash out with reckless, snide, peevish, cutting retorts.

Certainly, I have the freedom to have all the foolish temper tantrums I want. I can lay on the floor, kicking, screaming and crying BUT:

A) Of those who in no way deserve my fulminous wrath, who will be there for me when I’m finished playing Histrionic Hildagard? Who will help me climb up off the ground? Who will bring me a shot of Jamo and an Oreo after I’ve blown my nose and apologized for all the cruel, cutting, untrue things I may have said (and probably didn’t mean)? Who will make me feel loved even though I’ve just been a colossal jerk?

Incredible as this may sound, life is not all about me which brings me to:

B) How could I behave so in such a rude, selfish thoughtless way to the people who love me most and take such good care of me? That’d be astoundingly fucked up. NO cookies for you, missy!

C) As for the folks who DO, absolutely, merit a strong verbal kicking? I’d  rather have back to back to back to back MRIs in a closed tube than give them the satisfaction of seeing me so slain by their atrocious words and/or behaviors (and/or lack there of).

D) IF I’m trying to accomplish something, convince someone of whatever, how has my tantrum (or harsh, dickish words) moved the ball downfield? It assuredly has done no such thing. Counterproductive much, Donna?

Over these long years I’ve created distance and put up boundaries to protect myself from uncaring, socially banjaxed, self-centered, greedheaded, empathy devoid humans. I still feel a twinge (I’m, regrettably, not made of steel) when the dolts get past my shields but I’m not wounded. Assholes are gonna asshole—c’est la vie.

I’ve also put up walls within myself in order to protect my wholly undeserving loved ones from the slings and arrows of my outrageous frustrations and wild outrages. Yes, this is unexpectedly mature and self-aware of yurs truly. See, I actually HAVE learned a few things in my decades on this blue spinning orb.

Shocking, I know. Also, I deserve some Oreos now. RIGHT NOW!