Saturday 18 January 2014

Step # 4: Let People In

Step # 4 of the 8 Easy Steps is to Let People In.

Truly. Tell people that you trust when you need help, or you’re depressed—or you’re happy and you want to share it with them. Acknowledge that you care about them, and let yourself feel it. Instead of doing that other thing we sometimes do, which is to play it cool and pretend we only care as much as the other person has admitted to caring, and only open up half-way. Go all in—it’s worth it.

It took me a while to think on this one. And now that I'm re-reading it, I realize that I totally remembered it differently. I missed the trust part, IE tell people that you trust when you need help etc., etc. I had this whole internal diatribe going on about how far you'd let people in emotionally depending on who they were, and I compared it to how far you'd let them into your house.

For instance, you might only let a coworker in as far as your living room, and if you really liked them you might bring them into the kitchen for cookies, but you probably wouldn't let them into your bedroom. So, you might share with them that funny little thing your kids said last night (living room), or maybe you'll tell them about the not so funny little thing that your husband said to you (kitchen), but you probably wouldn't tell them about the gigantic fight you had with someone, or what position you used last night.

Well, I guess maybe that depends on who you are. . .

Anyway, I'll tuck that internal diatribe away, and maybe focus on the letting-people-that-you-trust-in part.

I let my husband in all the time. I'm an open book emotionally, so it's not that hard to tell when I'm happy, sad, glad or mad, but I do sometimes have a hard time talking about it. But Hubby's pretty good at getting me to talk about it, and it does feel pretty good, and we do talk about a lot of really deeply personal stuff, and that's scary but good too because in the end we still love each other, and it really does make our relationship that much better in the end, so I do have to agree with Kate on this one.

I also disagree with her, though. I used to open up a lot to someone who was once my best friend. She's not so much a friend anymore. And by that I mean pretty much not at all. I'll say that the "fault" for the end of the friendship is 50-50, but if you were to actually ask either of us, we'd probably both say, "It's mostly her fault."

A few years ago we did actually meet for coffee, and we tried talking on the phone a couple times, and I will admit: there is a big wall up on my part. She even sounded frustrated when she mentioned that she felt like I was putting up an emotional wall.

What? You mean that after years of my confiding everything to you, and after 'going all in and caring way more than you ever did', only to be horrendously shit on, you expect me to just be like, "Hey, oh my god! I can't believe I get to hang out with you again! I'm going to tell you everything about my life again, while you, as usual, share nothing except for Victorian-era parlour-room level stuff, and I'll just totally risk being treated exactly the same as you did before, even though it made me feel like crap, because, you know, you expect me to, even though it's been three years since you've said more than five words to me!"

Of course I have a fucking wall up. It doesn't go "Once bitten, twice shy" for no fucking reason.

 Does that mean that it will never come down? Well, at this point, the wall will probably keep you out of the house, but back then, with a lot of patience, some understanding, and a little work, you might have been allowed in to the living room, which is at least in the house.

 I'm not the only one who puts up walls. I have a friend who let lots of people in at various times in her life, and they almost always end up using whatever information/emotions she freely gave them against her. Of course she's going to put walls up, which doesn't make relationships easy for her anymore. But she is still trying to let people in, so kudos to her ;)

(That's right--I just used a smiley face as punctuation. Go ahead. Have a fit. It's okay.)

All these walls make me wonder--how do you know who to trust? When can you take the walls down completely? Maybe you have to start out with a brick wall, and then maybe the top layer can be taken off so that you can talk to people over the wall, and some people might stay behind that wall all the time, except for maybe when you really need help (like good neighbours do). And maybe after some time goes, you'll know if you can put a gate into your wall, and maybe you'll leave it unlocked.

And maybe eventually you'll maybe marry your best friend and you'll share a yard, so you won't need any walls anymore.

That is an awesome feeling. And it is worth it. It does make life better.

It's just a little scary finding those people that you can trust with your emotions.

Thursday 9 January 2014

Random Thoughts for January 09, 2014

I made an iced-vanilla-maple-mocha with some leftover coffee this morning, and as I sipped it at work I thought to myself, I'd love to say that this is delicious, but I can only say that it's good. Then when I was walking to the bank for work, I met up with a bunch of high school kids on the sidewalk, and I wanted to say, "Hey, share the sidewalk," because nobody went single file, but I thought that that might make me out to be one of those people, so I just forged on. At least I didn't step off the sidewalk. Or walk into the lamppost. There was enough room for everyone after all.

I'm not sure how I'm still vertical. Well. Semi-vertical. I'd love to drink a shot of Schnapps from one of my really pretty, long-stemmed shot glasses, but then I'd be horizontal for sure, and then I'd feel like crap tomorrow, and I have to work tomorrow, so I'll just continue with water since I'm probably already dehydrated from all the caffeine that was in that not quite delicious iced-vanilla-maple-mocha that I had earlier.

Getting the kids to bed has been tough the last couple days. Well, one kid in particular. How tough, you ask? Samuel L. Jackson wants to read you a little story about it.

I'm not sure if it's my husband or my dog that's snoring. It's definitely not K1. He just got up again.

Looks like I'll have to read for a while to make sure that everyone is asleep. Oh. Darn.

Tuesday 7 January 2014

Book Review: Love You Forever by Robert Munsch

I read this to K1 tonight. I almost managed not to cry. Almost. Saddest book ever, and it's a kids book.

I don't know anyone who wouldn't cry reading this book.

That's all I'm going to say about this one.

Sunday 5 January 2014

Random Thoughts for January 04, 2014.

It's 2014. I'm not entirely sure where 2013 went, exactly, but I may have been a bit dazed through most of it. You will have more traction driving at -20 Celsius than you will at 0 to -5. Unless the intersections are polished up by all those people in two-wheel drive pick-ups without winter tires. I don't think that that last sentence was a sentence.

I have to work tomorrow. Sometimes I think that I don't want to go. Most of the time, I don't really want to go. I do love my job, but I have more fun at home. Unless K1 is terrorizing K2. Or me. Mostly, K1 is awesome, and very helpful, like tonight when he helped me clean up the mess by washing everything with the dirty rag that was initially used to wipe up the yogurt drink that he dribbled all over the floor while running around with the container (empty, except for the dregs) upside down, right after I said something along the lines of please don't carry that upside down or you'll dribble--argh! Then I said to get a cloth, and I wet it for him (easy because I was doing dishes at the time) and he did wipe up all the dribbles and then the stove and the walls or something, and the garbage can in the kitchen. I think really he was avoiding going to bed because every time that I mentioned that it's bed time he cleaned more stuff. Where was I going with this. Right. Mostly K1 is awesome, but sometimes he's three. Well, he's three every day, because he's three. But sometimes he's three.

I'm tired of candy and chocolate. I know, I know, what the fuck is wrong with me? I mean really? I'm actually craving salads for lunches at work. Salads. And, I want to work out at lunchtime, too. Am I that sick of sugar? Or do I just really hate how fat I am? Yes to the first, and no to the second, but only because the second is the wrong question. I just hate how out of shape I am. I mean, I did 5 minutes on the rowing machine, then 5 on the bike, then ten, maybe, on the treadmill. I thought I was going to die. Or be killed by my mutinous legs. How sad is that?

I can see parts of my desk. Not all of it, and there's enough to write on, especially if I get rid of the singing snowmen, but it's not as bad or as good as it could be. Speaking of singing snowmen, it's really time to pack up the Christmas stuff. Not now though. Now, it's bed time.