Trapped in the Crazy Hall of Mirrors

It is true: there are days when it is better not to get out of bed. Yesterday was one of those days.

I would like to blog about things that happened in my life yesterday, but I cannot get into specifics. All I can do is synopsize how the toxic crap I endured yesterday is affecting me.

In one incident I was called to task for not communicating with someone about an important matter. Apparently, this person wanted to be regularly consulted and communicated with on this sensitive matter, but I was insufficiently skilled in reading his brain. Therefore, he is insulted and deeply hurt by my actions, said my not consulting with him was about the most egregious thing anyone had ever done to him, and he felt like cashing in his chips and going home. The good part (if there is a good part) is that he communicated this to me privately. I responded as best I could. I did not know you wanted so much information on this sensitive matter, I am sorry if I hurt you, and I hope we can move beyond it. Left unsaid were many things I would have liked to express. I was just doing my job. What I was doing was really none of your business. I am sorry you were so upset but I also know you are a Prima Donna and irreplaceable, so I must treat you with utmost respect, even though this is none of your damned business. I think you are a terrific person and I like you a whole lot, but you lost perspective on this issue. I cannot say those things.

The second issue revolved around a long-standing personal problem that increasingly feels like being in a crazy hall of mirrors. Everything is distorted and it is even hard to tell which way is up. Good is bad, bad is good, I am not sure if I am good, or evil, if I am wasting my time and my life, or if things are on the verge of resolving themselves. Suffice to say I am spending a lot of time and money trying to resolve the issue and it seems go on forever with no resolution. Yet I must remain endlessly stoic, patient and play the role of the guilty person, even though I do not feel that guilty and feel pretty darned aggrieved myself. It feels like it is reaching the theater of the absurd. One would think one set of kid gloves would be sufficient to deal with this situation, but I am not sure four or five would be enough.

One of these kinds of issues a day is more than enough; having them come back to back inside of six hours made for a nasty double whammy. Neither is likely to come to quick resolution. I would love to actually talk about them with the aggrieved parties, but I am cast in the role of submissive supplicant who must wait around until they decide to communicate. So I sit here and stew and fret and wonder why I put up with both of them. Where is the reward for doing your job to the best of your ability? Where is the reward for being endlessly patient? Why should I feel guilty for being who I am and the way I dealt with the crazy cards that I was given?

It seems the reward never comes. Therefore, I am left in an interminable state of suspended animation, frustrated, headachy, and sleeping badly. I know over this three-day weekend things will lighten up. I will probably sleep well tonight. Perhaps I will hear on one of these issues and things will be back to the status quo. Or perhaps not. Perhaps it is just that time of year for me to twist slowly in the wind. As a believer in karma, I suspect I probably deserve these things that came my way. On the other hand, maybe I am more like a rape victim who thinks they must have deserved the abuse. A part of me says what I am dealing with is ridiculous, unnecessary, unwarranted and unjust. However, as I learned Catholic guilt at a tender young age, I figure, no, it must be me. I must be a sinner. I must be a bad person. I probably deserve this.

So I will wait, cross my fingers and hope I am not too far from the exit from the crazy hall of mirrors. Given past history though I am more likely still stuck somewhere in the middle. Perhaps if I stay in it long enough, it will feel like home.

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