Letting the Guard Down

Image from this site.

I seldom get angry, and I don’t want to be angry. And besides, angry, for me, like hate, is such a strong word. Nobody likes an angry person, especially when it is me who is angry.

Last night, I was angry. I regret that I let my guard down by being angry, and worst, in front of my children. It was not a good feeling to realize that they saw me when I was very angry at Papsie. Usually, I would just shrug off an issue, and not give in to anger, or that public display of extreme annoyance. But last night it was different. I totally forgot they were there.

As I pondered, I remembered Papsie saying that the words he said to me (which Papsie said was mere mention, o napag-uusapan lang) was not intended to get me angry. I asked what the intention was and he told me there was not any. That to me is unbelievable. This chunk of wits that I have cannot understand that a person will utter words without thinking about the consequences and with no objective at all. Those words he hurled at me were not even true and yet he tossed them at me and even sought the approval of my kids. It was like telling me I was really at fault the other day.

It was not nice that my daughter butted in on the conversation and hurled at me the same words in total agreement to what her father said. At first, I was simply defending myself but my husband and my daughter did not stop the mockery. Later on, my son joined the exchange. (Poor kid and he thought this was just plain teasing!) I felt helpless, annoyed, and mobbed (with only the three of them?). I was at the top of my voice when I said repeatedly, “Tumigil ka na. Huwag mo na akong kausapin. Huwag ka nang magsalita. (Stop. Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t talk anymore.)” Everybody was silent when tears ran down my face. I guess, at that time, I felt it is better to cry than say anything that would jeopardize more the already injured situation.

I am writing this down with thoughts of why I really got angry. Surely it was not because my daughter sided with Papsie (that is childish), or because I seemed to be overthrown or defeated in the argument (that, too, is childish). It maybe that there was a precedence before this situation came up. Or it was probably because I wanted to reprimand Papsie for the accusation but I couldn’t because I was not sure I could deliver the right words when I am angry. I was afraid that would give a different impression to my kids and misinterpret my words. (God, I was so helpless!) This is the reason I was insistent that matters between me and Papsie should be resolved with only the two of us around. Nevertheless even without the many words I wanted to say I know I cannot take back the hurt that my display of anger had portrayed.

Letting the Guard Down

Image from this site.

I seldom get angry, and I don’t want to be angry. And besides, angry, for me, like hate, is such a strong word. Nobody likes an angry person, especially when it is me who is angry.

Last night, I was angry. I regret that I let my guard down by being angry, and worst, in front of my children. It was not a good feeling to realize that they saw me when I was very angry at Papsie. Usually, I would just shrug off an issue, and not give in to anger, or that public display of extreme annoyance. But last night it was different. I totally forgot they were there.

As I pondered, I remembered Papsie saying that the words he said to me (which Papsie said was mere mention, o napag-uusapan lang) was not intended to get me angry. I asked what the intention was and he told me there was not any. That to me is unbelievable. This chunk of wits that I have cannot understand that a person will utter words without thinking about the consequences and with no objective at all. Those words he hurled at me were not even true and yet he tossed them at me and even sought the approval of my kids. It was like telling me I was really at fault the other day.

It was not nice that my daughter butted in on the conversation and hurled at me the same words in total agreement to what her father said. At first, I was simply defending myself but my husband and my daughter did not stop the mockery. Later on, my son joined the exchange. (Poor kid and he thought this was just plain teasing!) I felt helpless, annoyed, and mobbed (with only the three of them?). I was at the top of my voice when I said repeatedly, “Tumigil ka na. Huwag mo na akong kausapin. Huwag ka nang magsalita. (Stop. Don’t talk to me anymore. Don’t talk anymore.)” Everybody was silent when tears ran down my face. I guess, at that time, I felt it is better to cry than say anything that would jeopardize more the already injured situation.

I am writing this down with thoughts of why I really got angry. Surely it was not because my daughter sided with Papsie (that is childish), or because I seemed to be overthrown or defeated in the argument (that, too, is childish). It maybe that there was a precedence before this situation came up. Or it was probably because I wanted to reprimand Papsie for the accusation but I couldn’t because I was not sure I could deliver the right words when I am angry. I was afraid that would give a different impression to my kids and misinterpret my words. (God, I was so helpless!) This is the reason I was insistent that matters between me and Papsie should be resolved with only the two of us around. Nevertheless even without the many words I wanted to say I know I cannot take back the hurt that my display of anger had portrayed.

Hello, Earth?? You Still There??

That’s me trying to make contact with the world (of blogging). 😀

I am not trying to be funny. Oh, brother, I am just happy I have my PC back! It had a system crash. It had to see its doctor. And I was left hanging, sad and missing the usual routine of checking my email, and my blog and my blog friends’ blogs, of feeling the keyboard keys against my jagged fingers, and of feeling exhilarated (and unsympathetic at times he he) over blog items.

It was a week of agony. It is not a nice feeling – to be without a computer. 😀 I know, it sounds crazy. But the aftereffect left a weird feeling of being lost and weighty. This is addiction, I bet. 😦

I am actually typing fast, very eager to post this because WordPress has an announcement that it would have its maintenance. I only have a few minutes left. So, people, friends, beloved blogmates, I am back. (Who cares???)

Hello, Earth. You still there??

Hello, Earth?? You Still There??

That’s me trying to make contact with the world (of blogging). 😀

I am not trying to be funny. Oh, brother, I am just happy I have my PC back! It had a system crash. It had to see its doctor. And I was left hanging, sad and missing the usual routine of checking my email, and my blog and my blog friends’ blogs, of feeling the keyboard keys against my jagged fingers, and of feeling exhilarated (and unsympathetic at times he he) over blog items.

It was a week of agony. It is not a nice feeling – to be without a computer. 😀 I know, it sounds crazy. But the aftereffect left a weird feeling of being lost and weighty. This is addiction, I bet. 😦

I am actually typing fast, very eager to post this because WordPress has an announcement that it would have its maintenance. I only have a few minutes left. So, people, friends, beloved blogmates, I am back. (Who cares???)

Hello, Earth. You still there??

Morbid Thoughts

Image from here.

I have a friend who told me once that she thinks about morbid thoughts almost all the time when she rides a bus or a jeepney. When she is in a bus, for example, the thought of the bus slamming into another vehicle suddenly emerges. Grisly vision of her and her daughter will play – their limbs contorted or severed.

Morbid thoughts persist especially in times when accidents and crimes are rampant. I bet not a single soul is exempt. Of course, being a paranoid is another story. But the entire populace of the world surely had experienced bouts of uneasiness because of these morbid thoughts.

One time, I woke up in the middle of the night crying because of a bad dream. The instantaneous feeling of anxiety, fear, uncertainty and gloom overwhelmed me. After a few minutes of getting back into the real world, I got up to drink water. I was at the kitchen when suddenly I heard something from outside the living room door.

I thought of the possibility of someone trying to break in the house. The fear almost paralyzed me but common sense dictated that there was still no reason to be alarmed. I braced myself and courageously open the jalousies of the last window panel farthest from the door. No one was there but a cat that meowed upon seeing me.

That was silly of me, I know. It was probably the bad dream. But it did not stop me from thinking further what if there really was someone lurking outside the house. What if the incidence when a thief had successfully forced the lock of our mini sari-sari store before (that son of a gun took away some money and eved glugged a bottle of softdrinks @#*) happened again and that time into the house? What would I do? Honestly, I don’t know. It so easy to say what to do best but when overcome with fear, the mind, at times, does not perform very well especially during panic.

The mind is a battle field indeed. Either you give in to these morbid thoughts or stand your ground to stay cool and relax.  Or either you end up spent or renewed.  God help me.

Morbid Thoughts

Image from here.

I have a friend who told me once that she thinks about morbid thoughts almost all the time when she rides a bus or a jeepney. When she is in a bus, for example, the thought of the bus slamming into another vehicle suddenly emerges. Grisly vision of her and her daughter will play – their limbs contorted or severed.

Morbid thoughts persist especially in times when accidents and crimes are rampant. I bet not a single soul is exempt. Of course, being a paranoid is another story. But the entire populace of the world surely had experienced bouts of uneasiness because of these morbid thoughts.

One time, I woke up in the middle of the night crying because of a bad dream. The instantaneous feeling of anxiety, fear, uncertainty and gloom overwhelmed me. After a few minutes of getting back into the real world, I got up to drink water. I was at the kitchen when suddenly I heard something from outside the living room door.

I thought of the possibility of someone trying to break in the house. The fear almost paralyzed me but common sense dictated that there was still no reason to be alarmed. I braced myself and courageously open the jalousies of the last window panel farthest from the door. No one was there but a cat that meowed upon seeing me.

That was silly of me, I know. It was probably the bad dream. But it did not stop me from thinking further what if there really was someone lurking outside the house. What if the incidence when a thief had successfully forced the lock of our mini sari-sari store before (that son of a gun took away some money and eved glugged a bottle of softdrinks @#*) happened again and that time into the house? What would I do? Honestly, I don’t know. It so easy to say what to do best but when overcome with fear, the mind, at times, does not perform very well especially during panic.

The mind is a battle field indeed. Either you give in to these morbid thoughts or stand your ground to stay cool and relax.  Or either you end up spent or renewed.  God help me.

Ingratitude

Why are some people ungrateful boors?

Here is a story.

There is an old widow who has five kids. She lives with a son who is an invalid for a long time. The son and his family do not have a choice but to live with the old widow and her usual fret and frenzy. Because of his condition, he and his family have to live up with the situation and try to recompense (in whatever way possible) the goodness and the goodwill (according to the old widow’s sense of these words) that is being accorded to them, and bear all the insults deliberately hurled at them.

None of the other siblings really cared. It seems with how things are going that they are just trying to conceal the envy or the bitterness they feel towards their brother. In some events though, their hidden resentments show by displaying their childish rage over petty things and by treating him unjustly most of the time. The younger brother deals with all these silently. In some instances, one of the brothers would demand deviously but purposely his share of the food, and some food items, that are available in the old widow’s house. The other two sisters demand the same, with the older sister being more demanding.

But it is the older sister that is being favored most among the siblings. With no apparent reason (because the boorish sister is not even pretty nor sensible), the old widow takes always the older sister’s side and most of the time has a reason for the ill manners of this older sister. Many times, the older sister would go to the house of the old widow and ransack the fridge (no holds barred) without thinking if the others who dwell in the house had eaten already.

Many times, the boorish sister and her brood of equally insecure brats would visit the house to eat then leave their morsels, and the table unkempt. The son and his wife would often laugh at the matter as a case of eat-and-run.

Such is life for the son; and for the old widow who takes joy in the occasional visit of her precious child because of the tidbits she gathers from her. Then one day, the old widow was shocked to hear that her favorite demands that her share of her inheritance be given to her. The old widow refuses and told her that they would not get it until she dies and that was the agreement for everybody. The effort becomes futile as the ungrateful daughter insists that she has a right.

This made the old widow very depressed to the point of getting sick. She thought of the possibilities that they are already waiting for her to die, or that they would throw her out of the house if her favorite daughter was the one who lives with her. The son who lives with the old widow got very mad upon learning the account. He could only vent his anger while relating the story to his wife.

*******

Back to the question, Why are some people ungrateful boors?

To which Papsie answered:

– Because they think differently.

– Because they think there is nothing to be grateful for, and they owe nobody nothing.

– Because they do not know how to be a human being.

And I answered ‘because their skin is so thick you can actually feel it while talking to them at a distance.‘ 😀