"They mean well. They think they're helping." I have said this to myself so many times, usually while ugly crying alone. This week's deep thought is: and I'm done with that foolishness.
First, I'm officially banning the term "ugly crying." Something catastrophic happened. I'm understandably upset, possibly even on the edge of (or overwhelmed by) a massive panic attack. And chances are I'm already trying to hide myself and my emotional response because an honest emotional response to an emotional event makes others uncomfortable and therefore I must shield them from overt displays of emotions. Because dear god what if they were to experience an emotional response to my emotion?!
So my eyes are red and puffy, my makeup is smeared, my face is blotchy, and I might even be blowing snot bubbles. I'm supposed to worry about that when, say, I had to evacuate my house due to lethal gas and buy a new furnace + labor when I can, with scrimping, pull together maybe one tenth of the funds to do so, so I had to charge it all at a horrendous interest rate until I can get a bank loan so at least I'm paying it off at a more or less reasonable interest rate, and meantime I'm trying to schedule a plumber because I might also need to replace my water heater and work full time? Really? Do you hear how insane that sounds? More than that, how cruel and belittling and genually psychotic that is?
"Watch while everything you've worked for and created is systematically destroyed. Oh no! Now you don't look pretty. I guess everyone has to die now." Tell me that's not a scenario from a Saw movie.
Secondly, my mom and my brother . . . Jeez, I really don't know where to begin.
A large number of homes and businesses -- a record number according to one news report -- are damaged from pipes bursting in last weekend's deep freeze (-30F with the wind chill). That's all across Kentucky. People had no water. Many people are at day 6 or 7 of no water. Plumbers have been working nonstop since Christmas Eve. I am not in that situation. I have running water, just no hot water. It's an issue, yes, but not the emergency so many others are dealing with. I can wait, especially since our crazy-ass weather was up to 68F today. I can wait, and I have to.
My family cannot grasp this. Or don't believe I've actually called plumbers, many many plumbers. My brother texted the name of his plumber. My mother keeps asking if I have a plumber coming tomorrow. And tomorrow she'll ask about the next day. And what exactly do I think I'm going to do if I don't get a plumber out?
Most plumbers haven't even returned my calls. Those I've talked to politely asked that I call back next week if it's not an emergency ad they're prioritizing people with no water. Almost every plumber I've called has an outgoing message saying the same.
I understand. And I respect it. This is how it should work. Those in the greatest need get help first. To my family it's just a matter of calling a guy and scheduling and he fixes the water heater badda bing badda boom.
My mother has been the same with the financial aspect of all of this. Do I realize what the credit card interest rate is? How long it will take to pay it off, assuming I ever can? Yes, mother, I am aware, and it is completely out of character for me to make a very large purchase without knowing how I'll pay for it, but my freakin' house tried to kill me.
And I listen to them and read their texts, and go into another room where no one can see, and I sob.
Because all of this shit is happening and I can't control even one tiny part of it. Because my family believes I am such an idiot, such a screwup and total failure that I haven't just snapped my fingers and everything is settled and done. Because what I really need is sympathy and emotional support from them (assuming no one has been secretly going to trade school at night and just been certified as a plumber and gives me a lottery scratch-off that wins me $10,000), but I can't get that from them and so I'm coping all alone.
So my deep thought, which is more of a realization, is that I am done letting them pile on this already excruciatingly large mound of stress. I will not making any more excuses or allowances for their insensitivity and condescention. If they want to help, great, they can ask how and I will tell them what would be most useful to me.
In short (I say hundreds of words in), it's time for a coming to Jesus meeting.
And you, my readers, please remember this when helping others. Don't shove your way in assuming you know best and tsk tsk when your advice isn't appreciated. Talk to the person. Listen to them. Ask them what they need, really need, then figure out with them how you can help meet that need in at least a little way.
In exchange, you may kick anyone who uses the phrase "ugly crying" in the privates. Really, you have a moral obligation to do so.
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