Things That Annoy Me, Part Whatever
That’s right, I’ve lost track. Really, it would be much easier to list the things that don’t annoy me. But not as much fun and certainly not as cathartic.
Every now and then, I feel like ranting about a phrase or term that irks me. The last time I did, the phrase was “I’d take a bullet for you.” First of all, that’s a stupidly empty phrase — people just say it to sound like Friend of the Year, when they know damn well they’ll never have to prove it. And second, who says I want you to take a bullet for me? Then you’re dead or maimed, and I’m left with lifelong guilt. No, thank you.
Anyway… today’s phrase is the feel-good saying: “Don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”
OK, on its sweet and shiny surface, it sounds nice. Scratch off the veneer, and you’ll see that it’s utter BS.
Sure, it would be nice to completely bypass the normal grieving process of loss and skip straight to the warm and happy fuzzies. And maybe some people can do that — if they are robots, or if they’re lucky enough to be sociopaths who are devoid of those pesky human emotions.
Along the same lines, I recently came across a post where the writer was talking about the transience of some relationships. I can’t remember the exact wording, but it was something along the lines of, “People come and go in our lives. There is no point in morning [sic] those who have gone; we should simply focus on what we learned from them.”
Oh, kiss my ass. Tell you what, folks. Don’t tell me not to cry, and don’t tell me not to mourn. Don’t invalidate my feelings. And if you don’t, I’ll do my part and I won’t call you an idiot for spewing such drivel.
I’m not saying we should steep ourselves in grief and stay there indefinitely. But feeling sad, crying, etc. over something we’ve lost is part of the process, a step that cannot be skipped. It deserves acknowledgement and patience. Telling someone they shouldn’t cry or grieve is the very thing that’s going to keep them stuck. Because they’ll shove down the feelings and never process them properly.
I know what you’re thinking. “You have your own feel-good phrase that you trot out, Erica.” Yes, I do. “The depth of your despair will be the height of your joy.”
Let’s review. Is there any part of that saying that tells the person not to despair? That denies or invalidates the existence of the sadness? No. It is merely a statement of hope, reminding the person that if they are capable of feeling deep pain, then in turn, they can also feel great joy. And they will, sooner or later. When I’m in the pits, I tell myself this, and I know that at some point, the tide will turn.
Here’s a thought, folks: Next time you talk to someone who has just suffered a loss of whatever kind, spare them the invalidating homilies. Instead, simply offer them your most heartfelt “I’m so sorry.”
Enough of that. In other news, my Cane-iac blog got Chrossed today, which makes me happy. That will bring even more attention to them, which they deserve. I received my second cane in the mail today, so it will be tested next Monday. 🙂
And finally — I may be an Uber-curmudgeon this time of year, but let it not be said that I can’t laugh at myself. Check out my December persona, courtesy of the brilliant Zelle. 🙂
Those glasses are not mine; she Photoshopped them on. Damn, she’s good! Oh, and where did she get a photo of me making such a smug face? Where else… it’s my mug shot from Spanking Court.
Have a great weekend, y’all.