Ambiguity, heartless, high-maintenance
I couldn’t really figure out one steady topic to talk about, so these below will work since I don’t really have much to say about them.
I struggle with ambiguity.
I remember teachers getting mad at me during my grade school years because I couldn’t make up my mind for whatever thing I needed to say yes or no to, make a decision on, etc. I like to analyze both sides of a situation before making any final decisions. Sometimes I don’t analyze both sides because I get too excited about a decision and/or don’t want anyone to change my mind. Unfortunately, the end result is often a dangerous one if I didn’t analyze all sides’ outcomes before making the decision first. And then rarely after I do analyze all sides of a situation, it may still be the dangerous side in the end – or rejection, or denial, etc.
I’m not a heartless person, and I don’t lack feelings.
A lot of people have referred to me as a heartless person because I don’t show many emotions. I wear a blank expression on my face because it got me by growing up. I don’t smile often when I don’t really have a reason (or sometimes even when I do have a reason) because smiling raised questions growing up by [mostly] lard, and I didn’t want to answer them because I seriously felt (and still do feel) as though they were seriously none of his business.
I didn’t cry when Mama Lois, my great grandmother on my mom’s side of the family, passed away/after her funeral/etc. because I’d already seen her die. It was that last stroke I wasn’t at home for because I wanted to play on the Internet (which required me to go to my mom’s house). She couldn’t go because she had her doctor coming for therapy, but when the doctor/nurse lady arrived, she had had a stroke. I still feel really bad, and if I been there I feel like we would have been able to get help sooner. I don’t remember how long she was in the hospital, but at-home care was killer on all of us. It wasn’t what she would have wanted, I know that.1 But I had already spent my nights crying myself to sleep before she died. I didn’t attend the funeral part where they bury her not because I am heartless and/or lack feelings, but because I seriously don’t do well with criers. I try, but dude… That’s just not my thing. Mimi would always want to cry on my shoulder about her problems, and I’d feel like I was holding a snotty facial tissue some random kid had just handed to me with simply my thumb and index finger… ihhck.2
Eating healthy and enjoying doing so does not make me “high maintenance”.
For some reason my mom would often refer to me as “high maintenance” because I liked (and usually preferred) to eat healthier. I don’t really know how to keep talking about this one topic/thing, but… Am I supposed to apologize for doing something that makes me feel better? OH WAIT. I’m not supposed to feel better according to her. Whoops. Sorry guys, I figured this one out on my own.