Earlier this week I had the unpleasant task of holding on to a good friends hand as she screamed and cried and begged for her pain to stop after a reckless cousin dislocated her knee.
While I don’t doubt at all that her experience was much more unpleasant then mine. I think both us would have preferred the whole bloody incident to have occurred to someone else.
What held the lack of surprises afterwards, after she’d been carted away in the ambulance, was the way people decided to make the night about themselves. As I watched several people complain about how loud she cried, or about what a baby she was or how people just can’t control the drama – the phrase ‘They eat they’re own” crossed my mind.
As I listened to a friend-of-a-friend tell her not so delightful story of how she broke her leg on a –legasp- mountain and –legasp- didn’t realize it was that hurt and –legasp- didn’t cry and –legasp- hiked all the way back down by herself, I looked in on my self and wondered ‘What the fuck are you doing with these people?”
Now, don’t get me wrong there were – a few – people that were sympathetic and dare I say it – human – about the whole thing. But most of the people there were just out for the attention.
I don’t think I ever really got it, using someone else’s misery to get off, to come out looking better. Just never got the appeal.
I realized a long time ago that in the long run people don’t really change. By age 12 we’re all pretty much at the point of no return. No refunds, no exchanges. As is. That’s it. Take your receipt and shove it.
So I’ve started looking at myself. Really looking at myself. Are there things I’d like to change?
Are they things I can change?
Some of them.
Am I happy with who I am?
Still working on that one.
What I do know, is that no matter who you are
– that person that needs to put someone else down to feel good,
- the person who will never be comfortable in they’re own skin.
- the kid doing anything to fit in,
- or the girl who decided a long time ago she didn’t need any help. Ever. From anyone.
You’re that person.
That’s it, that’s all you are.
Don’t like it?
Then prove me wrong.
Because I’m getting pretty sick of you assholes.