My Faults

I don't have any faults, right?
My ex-husband, daughter, and probably grandchildren will likely tell you otherwise!  I just keep on living my life in the assumption that everyone understands that, like what Maya Angelou said, "When you know better, you do better."  Some old dogs CAN be taught new tricks.

I love my family to the very core of my existence.  Does it matter in each moment?  Apparently not so much.  My daughter and I have a communication problem.  I say something that she takes issue with, and the result isn't always pretty.  Still, it doesn't change anything about how I feel about her.  I am sometimes blindsided by what she fights me on, considering that I would never do anything deliberately to upset her.  I'm her mother, for Pete's sake.  I'm on her side!  Still, it is what it is.

I have the same communication problem with a niece.  She draws the foul, making it so easy to take pot-shots on social media--or at least what she considers to be pot-shots from me.  The truth is that I love her to pieces.  I just don't have much respect for her profane ways or the constant shoulder chip that she veritably brags about.  Instead of pretending to be rough and tough and strong, why not simply admit that she is lost in a sea of self-loathing and poor self-esteem, and ask for emotional support at an emotional level?  I don't have much patience for internal dishonesty when everyone externally can see the truth.

Oops!  I guess that's a fault of mine.  What other faults do I have?

I am guilty of being so concerned about how I come off to new people that I don't pay attention to their names when introduced.  Five minutes later, I have to ask again what their names are.  Embarrassing?  Yes.  Understandable?  Probably.

I had a very dear friend, now deceased, who would call me every day to discuss his world.  In the beginning of our telephone friendship, I was full of respect for him.  He loved that.  And then, familiarity crept in.  He was confessing to me the same complaints day after day after day, with no pretension of how to fix them, over many years of conversations.  In the end, I was propping him up every day.  I would change the subject so he could be distracted from the stresses that he put himself under.  I wasn't dishonest with him.  I tried to be compassionate with how he felt, even though I knew he was way out of line with reality.  And then he suddenly died.  I am somewhat convinced that his compulsive behaviors added to his stress, which added to his death.  And I was terribly, terribly sad.

One of the things my friend did in our phone conversations was to turn everything back to him.  If he asked me a question and I answered, he responded with something about himself.  After awhile, I actually stopped answering his questions because I understood that he wasn't really listening to stories about my world.  And when I got frustrated with that, I came to understand that I did it, too!  My reasons for doing so are different than his, however.  I offer personal anecdotes in a response in an effort to show the person I'm talking to that he/she is not alone in what he/she is feeling.  Still, it may seem that I am trying to turn the attention to me and my experiences.  Not my intention.  Please forgive me!

I have another habit borne out of my semi-deafness in one ear.  When I can't hear things, I say "Huh?"  Problem is, I do it ALL the time!  There is a piece in Reader's Digest that says the expression is the same in all languages, but no one knows why.  **I** know why.  I just have to find better ways to express the question about what I haven't heard.  I do it a lot, unconsciously.

According to my daughter, I tend to express things in a way that seems unchallengeable, so she is forced to challenge it...or something.  I'm not sure if the problem is mine for my method of expression, or hers for the way she takes what I say.  I have my reasons, and apparently, so does she.  It has been a problem.

I am a queen of procrastination.  Tomorrow.  I'll deal with things tomorrow, then days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months.  Then, seemingly suddenly, the deadline is upon me.  It has also been a problem.

I've also developed another fault that troubles me some.  I trust everyone until they give me reason not to, and then I'm done with them.  (Family excluded, obviously.)  This came about as the result of my divorce, over time.  I used to be the queen of second chances.  Mess with me, get a warning.  Mess with me again, okay...maybe I can handle you in my life, but you've got to do better.  Mess with me a third time, you're out.  Once is a coincidence.  Twice could also be a coincidence.  But three times is a pattern that shows neither of us learned anything about the first two times.  Gone!  Unfortunately, as I get older, second and third chances go by the wayside.  This is why I am no longer in the romance game.  I want and crave companionship.  I just don't want more responsibilities.  All my life, I've been a caregiver.  Put myself in that position, unfortunately.  That's another fault, and that is compounded by the fact that I also can't ask to be cared for!  Another fault!

I think I should quit because admitted faults are creating others, and suddenly I'm tired of feeling so bad about myself.  That's another fault.  Who wants to compound shame and guilt all at once?

I'm outta here!