‘Things are seldom what they seem.’
~ Atiśa ~
2016 has gotten off to a strange start.
January was a write off with my being sick for the greater proportion of it, and my children sick for the remainder of it, whereas February has been a buzz of activity on every front as I approach another major life change. I’m thankful that the buzz of activity has taken a positive slant, albeit the occasional negative jab has struck me.
One thing that I’m finding though is I’m feeling a wealth of emotion, in particular with regards to friends. Again, I seem to be experiencing a patch of shitness with my friends letting me down in various ways. If they’re not changing plans at the last minute, they’re absent, they’re not being entirely honest with me or they’re being insincere while appearing, or trying to appear, sincere. Previous experiences have taught me that the jumping up and down and yelling approach doesn’t work in gaining their attention, anybodies attention really. I’ve tried the softly softly approach with one person and surprisingly that fell way short of the mark. With the others I’ve decided that it’s best to just smile and say nothing. Ultimately, I’m yet again realising who my true friends are. There is an element of sadness that’s associated with this, but more so I’m rolling my eyes thinking to myself ‘not again’.
Am I just a shit judge of character? Or am I just that shit of a person that I cause people to dislike me so much they can’t stand to be my friends? Depending on the day dictates which answer I choose, but it would be nice to have those that call themselves my friends by my side during this time in my life. My spidey senses tell me that won’t happen.
I have always found writing to be one of the best forms of therapy for myself since traditional forms have proven utterly useless in the past. Whether it be writing for this blog, penning my memoirs, completing a journal, a story, poem or letter, once the negativity emerges from my soul and onto the page I always, somehow, felt better.
Some months ago I wrote of two people who I knew would eventually hurt me: one a liar and one a leopard who couldn’t change his spots (see Oh What a Tangled Web…). Both have since hurt me, and gone from my life.
Tonight I stopped crying, I wrote
Another unsent letter,
In a pile addressed to you,
Care of something somewhere better…
‘Oh what a tangled web we weave,
When first we practise to deceive!’
~ Sir Walter Scott ~
Over the course of my life I’ve discovered that I possess a super power. Curiously, it’s one that many people possess, but are unable to utilise to their full extent. It is intuition.
I have always been an intuitive person however tended to ignore it until recently. There came a point where things would happen and retrospectively I would say to myself “I knew that would happen” or something of the like. When I began using my intuition in conjunction with my many years of university studies of human behaviour/psychology I understood that I possessed the power to read people, for a lack of a better phrase. When I began to use this power I was able to, with pinpoint accuracy, tell when people were lying to me and that people would emotionally hurt me as a result sometimes months, even years, before they actually did.
My kryptonite is my willingness to allow myself to be hurt despite knowing that I eventually would be.
I know you’re going to hurt me because I know you’re lying to me, and I know you will hurt me again because a leopard can’t change his spots.
Can somebody please tell me why I haven’t fucking cut them both out of my life already?…