Wednesday, April 27, 2011

mean people

Lately I have been quite dumbfounded by mean people.  Although I have caught myself laughing at other peoples expense (initiated by a mean person), I always feel bad about it.  So what is it that makes these people tick? Why is it so important to bash someone else?  Or to criticize what they have no experience to comment on?  There are people who intentionally pick fights so that they can have physical battles, and those who pick emotional battles.  
I don't have an education that would back up any of my theories, but it seems to me that having been human and been a part of the species, that I could make fairly accurate guesses.

First assumption:  Either they're laughing because bully humor makes them nervous, or they are laughing because they think it's genuinely funny that another human being could be so humiliated and degraded at the same time. Or, yet another option, the absurdity of it is just to sadistic to resist.  Like Wiley coyote falling over the cliff and then getting smushed by a bolder and the mountain it fell from. 

Second assumption: People are cruel because it eases their own suffering by giving them someone to target all their anger onto-- Or... they are the kind that gets pleasure from the power they feel by making another being feel terrible.   Notice how bully's and assholes never pick on someone who refuses to give them any reaction or sufficient award for their behavior.  

Third assumption:  Not all mean people are bad people.  Some of them actually deserve pity.  If all they can get pleasure and happiness from is being cruel... can you imagine the loneliness and suffering there is being completely alone?   Some of them were never taught or learned how being kind to others can be just as rewarding.  Or they were taught that kindness leads to terrible consequences... all that psychobabble crap.

Fourth assumption: Mean people are not intelligent enough to figure out a different way to communicate effectively they don't like you in a polite way.  

Fifth assumption:  There is no honor, respect or joy in being mean.  So they must have low self esteem to demean themselves in that way.

Sixth assumption:  If these types have any desire to change, or do things differently they must first admit to the flaws in their actions (which is an extremely difficult task for someone who is addicted to this behavior)  It's not like changing a personal behavior, something that is only involved in self, it's a global behavior that affects how they think and act around everyone in their world.

Eh... I'm exhausting  this idea.  Point is, no matter how they got to be mean people, I'll still never understand how they can stand living in a world where the only interactions are stabs, jabs and pokes at people who had nothing to do with creating who they've become.  

I'll try and find something more fun to talk about next time.  Just wanted to vent that one.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Happy to be here.

There are times in life when you find something that feels completely right, so the good and honest and descent thing to do, that all the hardships comming with that descision are just not an issue.   You know that not doing it would make you feel regret for the rest of your life. The joy I would miss out on.  Not that I haven't thought about all the hard stuff, but the good stuff surpasses it by far.   If only all the major life changing descisions were this easy.   I can't really blog about what it is I'm talking about yet.  I don't want to jinx it.  Soon though.

I look around now and realize, this is my house... I've bought a house.   I have a real job, with benefits.  I have a family.  I get to be the sibling that's helping out.   Seven years ago I was doing everything in my power to destroy my life, and now I have everything I thought I'd never have.  (other then the husband, not to upset about that one.) 
So what's next?  I don't think school is something I want.  Maybe later when it won't be taking away from my quality time with my son.  I really don't like school. And I'm happy with where I am.  My job is like my second home.  There are some members of that work household that make things way harder then they should be. 
"do you really have to sweep the floor with the kabota for three minutes!"  and "Seriously just put that in the hopper!"  But every thing can't be perfect.  And honestly knowing that I can react normally with complete emotional compitency even about the stuff that would make a regular joe walk out the door makes me feel confident that I'm healthy.
  I've thought about thanking Dr. Oriellana with a letter or a card or something, but I just never seem to get to it.  It really helped those years back to have a doctor that actually let me have some power over what meds were being perscribed, and who actually listened and payed attention.  So if anyone is looking for a good psychiatrist in the Grand Rapids area, I highly recommend him.   Now I haven't been on meds in almost 4 years, but the step to getting better was paved by a doctor who cared when I said, "that med makes me feel horrible."  Eh, I'm just dragging on trying to think of things to talk about.    So, off I go.  My life is great, and I'm happy to be here.

Friday, April 1, 2011

pfft

Ok, what shall I write... I've had tons of ideas, but they flitter away as soon as a distraction comes along. 
I was going to write about how .... crap, I forgot already.
It's ok, I suck at this blogging thing anyways.  I had followers for a while, then they disappeared. I have a feeling it was a bad link in some search engine and they were all accidental views.  Sad but true. 
I imagine this blogging works better for people who have something universally entertaining to say, and actually have time to put it online.  There's not much universal for me to say.   Not in a way that makes it worth reading, because there are people out there who can say it better, funnier, smarter then I can. 

Kinda like... poop stinks.  There, now it's universal, but not interesting, cause you all know that.  I've heard of poop not stinking because of some weird enzyme in the bowels, but I'm not going to research it just to have something worth saying.  
I think I've given up on my short stories again for a while.  I could write about recycling.  It's actually what I do for a living, and apparently there are a LOT of people that have no idea how it works.  Maybe I'll try that next time.   For now I'll just say,  call your local recycling plant before you decide to throw something in there that might not be accepted.  Sure they'll throw it away for you if it isn't (arrrg!), but they may just be able to tell you where you CAN recycle it.  And some stuff is actually dangerous to they employees.  Old used needles shoved into a milk jug should NEVER be sent to a recycling plant.  Mecury thermometers either!  And for goodness sakes, if it is filthy dirty and covered in yuck, I don't want to touch it (don't make me!).
Eh, no one will read this anyways... I'm going to go pout while my kid kills overlord for the tenth time in the last ten minutes.