The Mask

I’ve been told that we hide behind a mask. I have never really believed it until recently. There are certain things we allow people to see and there are other things we do not. It’s sort of like an omission. I don’t think we plan on doing it, but as we get older we’ve come to realize that when someone asks how we are doing, whether we are doing well or not is not the issue. They are asking to be nice and we just automatically come back with a one word answer and toss the ball back into their court. Why? Because it is something called pleasantries. It’s as simple as that. An acquaintance doesn’t want to hear about Aunt Martha’s ailing back, or about Fluffy’s bringing home a mouse the day before. Although these things are important to us they just do not seem worthy enough to share with a casual acquaintance.
I have a friend who whenever asked how she is doing always goes down the list with every ailment she’s had in the past six months. There are quite a number of people who don’t ask her how she is because of this. Me, I always ask. I feel that maybe the reason she does this is simply because she needs someone to talk to. Someone to commiserate with. Someone to share with how she feels.
For someone like me, who has always spoken her mind, to discover that I hide behind a mask did take me by surprise. I am more than happy to share the “feel good” things in my life but when it comes down to the “not so good” I tend to clam up. Hurt is a hard enough emotion to deal with as it is so why put it out there.
Seems like I learned a hard lesson recently that has me rethinking quite a few different issues. Simply put, some things that we deem important are just better left unsaid. If you feel the need to unload these burdens go to a therapist and unload them there. This boils down to one of my favorite sayings. Sometimes doing the right thing is not always the right thing to do.

Midlife Crisis vs. Minor Meltdown

And how would you know the difference??

For the past five years I have thought that I had Midlife Crises when I have finally reached the conclusion that all I had was a Minor Meltdown. Which should not to be confused with the Major Meltdown that surely must follow the Minor Meltdown. So, now that I have that established I can move right along. Yeah right!!!
With hormone fluctuations that cannot be explained or contained it’s a wonder I can get a grip on any kind of emotion other than raging, crying, or just plain coming out the corner swinging. Men do not seem to understand that most of us (women) are running entirely on emotions. Not of our choice, it is simply the way we are built. And guys, let’s face it, you like the way we’re built, so shut up and deal with it.
I sometimes feel for my husband. I must admit he is learning to keep his lip zipped. He must figure the tangent will end sooner or later, he’s hoping for sooner. There are days I can actually feel the daggers shooting out of my eyes, which can be as sharp as my tongue, if you get me going.
Now, while all of these things are going on let’s keep in mind, that there is a trigger. I am not going off half cocked for no apparent reason. The fuse has been lit and now it’s practically a done deal.
I think that I have finally reached a point in my life where I am fed up with everything. I have come to terms with the things that I know that I have to do, no choice, and since I consider myself a responsible person, I get it done.
Taking a vacation is not an option because I have to come back. It’s a stalemate. There is no winning. So, I will take in a few deep breaths, count to ten, and then I’ll come out swinging. Blame it on PMS!