Confrontations

This past week has been a full on LetsGetThisOutInTheOpen-Fest. I didn't plan to have all events stack up like they did, but, funny how in life it never just "rains" it "pours" all at once.

I don't feel comfortable telling someone I have a problem, I don't feel secure enough that the problem I have is large enough to say something so I generally talk myself out of saying or doing anything and hope that the problem just goes away... sometimes, they do. The alternative, however, sucks.

I always admire people I know who can voice their concerns and problems with a candor that can make my mouth drop:

"I don't feel like doing that, and I'll tell you why: because I've been working hard all day and I feel like you haven't been pulling your weight, so you can just do the rest. I'm done."

To which my version of the same situation would be a mumbled "Really?" then after a silence:

"I'm tired. I'm annoyed. You need to do more. I'll help you, but, like, I really need you to do more... Okay? Do you understand where I am coming from? You don't? Oh. Ok. Forget it then. No. Really. Forget it. No, I'm not angry, why the fuck would I be angry!? I'm just... tired."

...And then, I wind up finishing the last of whatever the task at hand is while totally hating the person I am with.

This week I was in two confrontations: One was a fight and the other was a full on confession. Both issues with both people are on their way to being somewhat resolved, and I say that because I don't believe that all things can go back to a thumbs up until both sides can lick their wounds and trust the other person again, but, man, finally getting "it" over with and saying what needs to be said feels SO GOOD.

Do you ever go into the bathroom, and when you know no one is there to walk in or overhear you, you start a monologue in the mirror imagining that there is a person you need to confront and you tell them everything? I do it all the time. I'm always perfectly eloquent, too! I know exactly what to say, I am confident, I am determined and I always win. Life doesn't really line up like that, but self confidence sure gives the whole measure a boost.

The fight was a tough one this week because it was with a person that, outside of our differences, I really like. Plus, I feel like the two of us are very similar in how we deal with problems: to wait until things blow over, or things get so bad that we boil over and explode; which is what we both did. Hell, I was shaking I was so angry. I had to consciously breathe and work out how to not kill, pillage and burn after the worst of the fight. Instead of a rampage; I cleaned the apartment.

The confession was me looking at two options with the other person. Option A: To avoid and deflect the situation and let the Pink Elephant that was prancing around the room continue to exist and hang in the air. Or, Option B: To  say, "Yeah. I did it. Now what?" ...I chose option B. Cue the look of anger that flashes across their face: Oy. Shit. Now, I need to defend my choices and stay strong. I did. They deserved an explanation.

I feel better. I feel like I went through a whole lot of flaming loops, and my lips and cuticles are the perfect evidence of how much anxiety and nerves I felt as a result, but all the nervousness aside: the right thing happened. Confronting the problems made me feel a whole lot better, and even though the gauntlet was hard, I feel a lot more comfortable where I am now than where I was before the week started. I mean, jeez, stewing in your own anger and yelling at your reflection in the mirror doesn't solve a whole lot.

A Big Fight

I was standing in the kitchen getting told to really lay into him. We were going to fight like the world was coming to an end. I felt myself get tense, like a hammer was about to come down. I reflected on any real-life scenarios in which I really had to raise my voice and yell and scream and couldn't recall any occasion when I got so mad I did.

I was asked to be the wife of a really lazy, slovenly guy in a short movie project a friend who is going to NYU was doing. It was a last minute, impromptu project but seeing as I had no plans for my Monday morning, I took the offer.

The premise is that my husband does nothing, even to the point of refusing to help me set up a nursery for our expected baby. The entire short was improvised by the two of us acting for the camera with directions given by my friend. I forgot how much fun it is to yell! The only time I've really allowed myself to let go and scream at someone has been for a piece of theatre or film. Generally, in my real life, when I get really pissed at someone I monologue: "I feel this way right now and I don't know what we can do to make this better, but I am upset. I've been upset about this for a while now and I didn't know how to really express that it was frustrating me, but I am at the point where I HAVE to say something, otherwise I'll just want to curl up into a ball and scream into a pillow!" Or, I get into a heated debate where I state my point again and again and demand that the person I am fighting with come up with a good rebuttal, otherwise I think they're an idiot (even if I love them to bits).

The kitchen scene today involved me pounding on a counter top, jabbing my finger in his face, screaming, and then finally: an egg thrown on the floor. Epic. I chuckled after we were done. Goddamn that feels good. Maybe I should turn into one of those crazy bitches that yell in fury at their bastard boyfriends... Eh, maybe not. It takes so much energy to be that mad, and I naturally internalize a lot of my anger so as to not become that out of control, which isn't a good way of dealing with those emotions either. However, cleaning up that egg made me want to gag. Anger can be so messy!

An Argument With Myself

Me 1: Stop grabbing at your stomach and looking in the mirror! You have more important things to think about other than how fat you think you look.

Me 2: Oh but I used to be so skinny...

Me 1: You didn’t think so then either. 

Me 2: No! No, I did...

1: Nope. You constantly looked at your stomach in the mirrors back then, too. Be nice to yourself.

2: But, I am the heaviest I have ever been. I feel so fat and blobby. Look at how my belly barely fits into these shorts I used to wear in High School.

1: So then don’t wear those shorts.

2: But, imagine if I could! I would be pretty skinny.

1: You wouldn’t think so, you’d just wish you were another size smaller until you just shrank into a tiny, bony, ain’t-no-one-will-fuck-you-cause-they-can’t-find-you body. Look at how beautiful you are! You’re gorgeous!

2: One eye is bigger than the other. 

1: Oh man. That’s it. Walk away from the mirror. Walk away RIGHT NOW. I’m hungry.

2: I’m not. Nope. In fact, I kinda like that I haven’t eaten anything but a bowl of yogurt today. It makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something.

1: You accomplished being hungry. 

2: Barely any calories! If I ate like this for the next few days, I’d lose a TON of weight!

1: YOU DON’T NEED TO LOSE WEIGHT! 

2: Oh, you’re just saying that to make me feel better. But I look at the girls on TV, and the one’s in the magazines, the ones who have no belly fat, like: they bend over and there is no roll, no nothing. They squeeze their tiny butts into cute shorts or sexy pants and walk around without having to worry about gross muffin-tops or any kind of jiggle. They’re the essence of beauty, and if I want to be in big motion pictures and be a famous, well respected actress, I’ll need to do that. I’ll need to be that skinny, to the point where my ribs stick out and I don’t need a bra to hold my non-existant tits. 

1: You’d be so gross. I wouldn’t want to be around you. No one likes those girls. 

2: Brad Pitt does. 

1: Brad Pitt is a weirdo.

2: Yeah, he is. 

1: Just continue being healthy, my love. 

2: But I can’t stop feeling like people won’t want me because of how nasty my belly fat is when I sit down! 

1: They don’t notice that, love. They’re there because of your smile and your personality and your ability to make people laugh. They’re there because of who you are. And you’re beautiful. Special. Wonderful. 

2: Oh. You make me feel so good. Why can’t you make me feel this good all the time?

1: Just remember how lucky and wonderful you are, that’s all it takes. Everyone should remember how lucky and wonderful they are more. I think that way we could celebrate how individual and beautiful we all are. 

....Now go eat something. 

2: Okay. I’m gonna make myself that peanut butter and chocolate sandwich I’ve been craving all day and just feel guilty about it later. 

1: Oy...