2003-10-07 - 11:41 p.m.
Everyone needs a kick in the ass occasionally
Yom Kippur has passed. I like Yom Kippur, in a way; it gives me a time to reflect and think, and it gives me a connection to my religion and to G-d. I can say that yesterday was pretty good spiritually. I didn’t like the rabbinical student who led services on campus, but at least I got my moments to pray.
I also managed to commiserate with some of my fellow grad students about the current fashion among undergrads. Seriously, people—spike heels, bared midriffs, short skirts and see-through tops? At shul? That is so wrong. I’m not a fan of all the pants, either, but I’m willing to let that slide. So my YK wasn’t exactly a great day in terms of my own niceness. But, whatever. Heh.
So after all that reflection, I have discovered a new side of myself that I’m not so sure about. I don’t put up with a lot of shit. I really, really don’t. I am tired of people’s victim acts. I mean, we all have our moments once in a while where we need real support and we have to whine and complain and such, but all the freakin’ time? Get over yourselves, people. I am, by nature, a nurturer, but when a person does so little to combat his or her evils, and that person is constantly pulling the “Woe is me! I’m such a victim!”, I admittedly get pretty irritated. I don’t have time for that. I don’t have the energy for that.
I have to confess, I used to be like that. I hated my job, I hated my friends, I hated my life. And after a while, it just got bad and I was complaining and crying all the time. So I did something about it. I applied to grad school. I went on anti-anxiety meds. I eased some not-so-great friends out of my life for reasons that used to seem so silly to me, but now seem so important—she doesn’t call back? Forget her. She doesn’t listen to me when I talk? Forget her. She makes fun of my taste in music? Drop her like a hot potato. I don’t like her burping in public? I don’t need to be around it.
I realize that the grad school and the drugs thing are not for everyone. I am very lucky in that I was able to pick up my life and change it so dramatically. But there were other things. Being a Johnny-one-note is tiring. After a while, the “woe is me” and “I’m such a victim” and “no one understands me” and “everyone’s out to get me” just gets plain, flat out old. I don’t want to hear that shit. The people who DO want to hear that shit are generally unhappy victim-types themselves who mistake commiseration for friendship.
This sounds pretty cruel. It’s not meant to be, certainly. I refuse to suffer fools. I am impatient with perpetual victims. If that makes me a bitch, then fine. I don’t much care. But I’m a bitch who respects the right of other people to have a complaint-free day from me. Well, once in a while. And if a complaint is made, it should be followed by, “But, you know, eh. I’ll fix it.” And if someone offers some tough love, especially in the form of, “Look, why don’t you CHANGE it if you’re so miserable?”, then maybe that’s a cue that your friends (or your confidantes) are tired of hearing over and over and OVER again about your misery and you should seriously consider making your life better, if for no other reason than your misery is driving your friends crazy.
Hey. It’s as good a reason as any, right?
This has been a Kick in the Ass from Mitzi. MWAH!
