How many times do we need to hit our heads against a wall before we realize it’s time to stop and move on?
When we get the first headache?
When we knock ourselves unconscious?
When we are finally blinded by the blood in our eyes?
Why is it so hard to let go of things that hurt us most? Why can’t other people just understand how we feel so that the endless arguments and bickering become obsolete and they realize that their actions affect one another?
Conflict, especially in my life, generally runs two ways. I can’t always play the victim. I’ve hurt people. On purpose. I have experienced many different types of people and I think that has given me an advantage in knowing a lot more than some. It’s almost like me having an extra weapon in a battle. Sometimes I hold this over the head of my opponent. I’m not always prepared for someone to fight back; fighting is overrated anyway.
My problem is that I develop a reputation for fighting a certain way (calmly…using my words effectively) and when I decide to wave my white flag, it can’t be seen. I change the way I speak or receive and it goes unnoticed…it doesn’t matter. I’m only remembered for the negative. It’s held against me. I’m punished. Everybody changes. Some more than others. Sometimes people are so stuck that they don’t notice that they do and are too stubborn to ever be wrong. This does nothing but push the other person away. If you want someone in your life you fight to keep them there, right? If it’s worth it? If it’s not, you let them go. Isn’t the what we are supposed to do?
I’m a good person. Most people would say that. I’m not a BAD person, but I can be MEAN when I’m hurt. Trust me, I’ve come a long way. I’m no angel, but I’m much better than I used to be. I’m still growing. It takes that time of learning how I operate to understand that the way that I say something isn’t meant the way that I say it. I’m aware that my tone could cause a spark in a gas splashed room. What I miss is that everyone doesn’t know that speaking a certain way is just normal for me. I drip and ooze sarcasm and Daria-esque angst. This isnt negative. It’s just ME. THIS is something that can be lost on the wrong people. I have to learn to stop caring so much and just allow people to muddle in their own misunderstanding.
I speak on myself, just to help one gain understanding. This posts isn’t about me, though. It’s about me not knowing what to do at the wall. You can find yourself just standing there…waiting. Some days, a pebble will fall and you’ll see the tiniest ray of light pour through. It gives you hope…and you wait for more. And wait…
You fall asleep and you wake up to find that spot and it’s been filled…replaced with a new stone. Then there’s nothing left to do but sit and wait again. Hell, sometimes the entire wall cracks and you have a great moment and you go to sleep so happy, only to wake up to it fully repaired…again. On dark days you leave and you find joy elsewhere. You always come back to that spot by the wall though, for whatever reason.
So when does it end? When does it stop? When do you finally walk away and stop coming back? I already know the answer to that, but who is perfect at following their own advice? I suck at it.
I brought a blanket to the wall today…