The Doctor Is In

I have a lot of flaws. I admit it. I once paid somebody upwards of $30 a week to help me understand them, and in some cases, point them out to me.

It's not that I'm ignorant of these flaws. I'm overly sensitive, have a short temper, like to overeat, and when I overeat, it's typically unhealthy foods. I don't like to exercise, tend to shove my head up my ass (despite my lack of flexibility), get attracted to the wrong guys, have a negative outlook, and when I get drunk, oh boy, better get a hazmat crew.

Lack of self awareness, that is something I don't lack.

Some people tell me I'm too hard on myself. There are times I agree. There's a great song that comes to mind at times like this, with the following lyric:

"It's no surprise to me,
I am my own worst enemy.
'Cause every now and then
I kick the livin' shit out of me"

That said, it may come as a surprise to you that I really, REALLY, resent it when other people try to fill the roll of de facto devil on my shoulder.

There are some people in my life who feel the need to knock me down a few pegs from time to time. I'm not sure they are aware of where I am from a mental status when they decide to do it. To be honest, when these people decide to come out of the woodwork, I'm typically at a low ebb. Perhaps they are at a low ebb as well, and decide to take a hit at the low hanging fruit, so to speak. I'm not exactly closed off to input. I'm always open to hearing other people's POV, but as I've gotten older, I've gotten more sensitive to the context.

For example, one area that is an oldie but a goodie is my living situation. I make no secret of the fact that I still live with my parents. It's an arrangement that actually works for me. I have two dogs, and given the fact that I have had days that include 14 conference calls with 30 minute lunch breaks, it makes having two other adults in the house a positive. I can also go away on vacation without paying a large fee to a kennel to keep them fed and watered. Despite that, there are people who feel I am living in a state of arrested development, and like to criticize that fact. To them I flash my Coach bag, Michael Kors watch and my gym membership. I wouldn't have any of them if I was living on my own in an apartment, let alone the companionship of my parents and two loving animals.

Then there are those who feel that my occasional gripes about work are inappropriate. Make no mistake, I love what I do, and I am lucky enough to have a mentor in my boss, a woman who I have worked for at two different companies. She pushed me out of my admin assistant role, one that benefited her, into a role that made me realize my potential. That said, there are frustrations, ones that would manifest themselves if I was a nun in a Carmelite monastery, or a hedge fund broker on Wall Street. I know I'm lucky to have a job, but let me have my occasional gripes. They keep me sane.

Ah, then there is that old chestnut, the size of my ass. I had one person who told me that the magic bullet, in response to my fears about a high school reunion, was to eat less, drink more water, and exercise more. I wanted to throttle her. Needless to say, she isn't someone I go to for advice. When I'm working the program (WW for those of you who don't know), I appreciate the support. However, when I'm feeling low (i.e. fat, flabby and otherwise insecure), I'd rather not hear about what I'm doing wrong. I know cheese fries aren't a health food, I don't need someone to tell me otherwise.

If I sound bratty, churlish, or ungrateful, I apologize. I love my friends, all of them. There are some who are closer than others, and those are the ones I have on my mental "Council of Buds". The ones I go to for an opinion, even if I know it might not be one I want to hear. They are the ones who will say "yes" if I ask "Do these jeans make my ass look fat?"

Of course, those friends are the ones I probably wouldn't ask that question of on a low ebb day.

But I digress. I'm not what I consider a closed minded person, but I think that sometimes my general nature leads people to believe that I am weak minded, or one who desperately needs their advice. I won't tell someone off, or say that my feelings are hurt, but know that sometimes words do hurt. So, in the words of George Carlin, be careful with them.

If I ask for your advice, by all means, I want it, unvarnished. If I don't ask for your opinion, feel free to keep your trap shut.

Thanks