I love Mondays. This one in particular because it’s the start of the first full week in January and the first full week of 2019. ( Technically, Sunday is the first day of the week, but whatevs! )
I feel like I need a rest from all the resting I did over Yule. The Hubs and I became one with the couch and it was AWESOME! I’ve never been able to just be so this was HUGE for me. I finally learned how to rest. A great achievement.
Did you make any intentions? I have two:
Be Kind To Myself.
I’m pretty awesome everywhere else so that’s all I need.
Ha Ha Ha!
Ok. I’m pretty average. The truth is I view this time of year with mixed thoughts. On the one hand I like the idea of a fresh start. As humans, we love our clean slates, the chance to symbolically start anew. On the other hand, sometimes this time of year can feel like an assault.
YOU ARE FLAWED. YOU NEED TO FIX SOMETHING!
Meh. I’m just not about that. It encourages perfectionism and I’m not down with that. Perfectionism is anxiety in disguise. I have enough of that on my own. I don’t need to willfully add anymore.
So. Today I bring you this:
I’m going to celebrate learning how to rest and making it through my yearly dark days. How about you?
For the first time in a long ass time, the Hubs and I had everyone over for dinner. Just because. As of late our family has been fractured. Disconnected.
First there was ( and is ) my son’s drug addiction. Then there was The Great Marriage/Mental Health Fiasco of ’16. We’ve been struggling! Grasping at what was. Hurting with what is. Longing for what could be.
But fear not! A shift has occurred, as shifts do and somehow – I’m unable to pinpoint it all exactly – our family is coming back together, once again.
Dinner went well! There was food- mac n cheese, roasted sausages, mixed vegetables- there were laughs-lots of good natured “roasting” lots of chasing the kids around, lots of jokes and silliness, there were grandkids..
and there was pie!
When I was making said pie, I was triggered by a memory of a former life.
My very first job after having my son was in this crappy little bakery, tucked away in the back corner of a garden shop. I was a clerk. I sold treats, sliced bread, made sandwiches, washed dishes and sometimes got to bake cookies.
It would have been an alright job had it not been for one of my co-workers. A spoiled, rich asshole and son of the owners. A man prone to temper tantrums. Legit, tantrums. The kind a toddler would have.
So I’m working away up front, his mother is in the office and Dickhead is in the back doing baker things. I’ve got customers in the shop and we’re all distracted from our calm by the sound of metal clanging and things flying around , followed by the slamming of a door. What the…??? I know what’s going on but the customers don’t so they very quickly finish up and take their leave, visibly disturbed by the commotion. I don’t even remember what I said to them…probably nothing. I have no idea WHAT the problem was this time but from past experience, but I’m sure we’ll ALL hear about later.
Dickhead comes back in after a while – Shawn! His name was Shawn!- Anyway, Dickhead comes back in and the mystery of why is solved. I hear him talking to his mum about how his egg whites wont build because apparently I didn’t wash the bowl properly- grease in your meringue bowl impedes lift- and how I’m an idiot and this and that and on and on. He’s totally raging and trashing me, saying the vilest of things.
This is all said out loud with no regard for privacy. I can hear every word. Mommy is trying to calm him down and placate him and he eventually chills and tries to make it all again, saying nothing to me. Nobody says anything to me! Which makes the whole thing even more awkward.
I carry on with my job, tense as fuck, not knowing what I should do in any direction. I’m not the only one who does dishes in that place! Do I say something? What should I do? Ahhhh! I hate this! I have to walk past Dickhead much later and he is still simmering with rage. So much so that, as I pass him he spits out at me ” You stupid fucking cunt!”
Now, present day Lael would have stopped whatever she was doing, gathered up her belongings and walked out the front door, never to be seen again. No question.
Past Lael wasn’t as wise. Or as brave. What did I do? I ignored him. Which I guess is a defense in itself. But then I kept on working there until I eventually quit because Dickhead started sexually harassing me.
The thing of it is, I didn’t tell anyone about that first incident. Why? I felt ashamed. Like his asshole behavior was a reflection of me. Maybe I really did do a shitty job of washing the bowl…I was paralyzed with fear and doubt and …the ickiness that comes from being around adults who have temper tantrums and treat people like garbage. Of course, even if it was my fault, is a poorly washed bowl ANY justification for being so aggressive and awful to another human? Nope! Of course not! I wish I had said something to someone, I know now I would have gained wisdom and clarity. But live and learn!
Silence is NOT golden. Silence is isolating. I’m grateful for the lesson.
I’d love to go back in time to redo THAT experience. In a way now, every time I speak up, stand up and take myself out of a toxic situations, I am!
All this from pie 🙂
Which was delicious! I found the recipe online, here.
Have you ever been in a situation like that? Have you ever thought back and wondered WHY you put up with something so obviously toxic? What did you learn in hindsight?