It’s raining like cats and dogs outside, so I’m taking time to catch up on my social media. Just saying hello or giving a thumbs-up to those who may need it. I guess I’m fortunate in a way that my current situation affords me time to do such things. I don’t move around much other than my frequent trips to the doctor or running errands. I suppose I could stay bitter about my current situation and sometimes I am. But in the grand scheme of things, it’s better on me both physically and emotionally, to just appreciate these quiet moments as they come.
In real time I’m pretty much a jerk. I say shit that my small circle take as cruel or heartless. My only excuse is that it’s my defense mechanism that was bred in me from an early age. Listen I’m really trying to do better, but after a good 50 years of conditioning, don’t expect any overnight miracles. But when I get time between doing everything a stressed out caregiver is required to do. I take moments like this to be grateful and kind. That’s where my writing comes in.
Recently I made a smart ass comment on a friend’s post. I assume my friend only saw it as me just being me. But apparently over 2600 of her followers thought I was heartless and a cad to say the least. Most were the general responses of, you are a jerk. Others turned around and attacked me personally, while one was wishing for my quick demise…seriously. I simply hearted each response, except for the death one, to say yes I agree. I suppose I could say I’m sorry for my often shitty attitude. But then I’d spend the rest of my days on an apology tour. I guess the thing is, we are complicated creatures. Prone to fallibility and just plain f*cking up. But at the same time we are also capable of utter beauty and untold compassion. Think about it.