Go The F*uck Away

I’m having EMDR tomorrow morning, and while I remember very little about the first time I had it done, and I have no negative memories of the process, I’m about as nervous as one might be the day before a procedure.

I might be afraid it may not work?

My mom and my boyfriend have a tendency to verbally vomit information all over me with no consideration for…me. They spew information as it comes to them, when they feel like it, whatever, without so much as checking first to see if I even have time to listen to it.

Fuck. Off.

I have a lot going on in my head between the PTSD symptoms and trying to keep up with the rapid pace of my job. I spent hours the last few weeks handling my grandma’s affairs, and now I’m spending hours trying to get caught up. I’m hoping that feeling of “caught up” happens for me this week, but not sure. I don’t feel like I have control over much right now and just have to keep my head down and pound away at things until they get done.

Which is why it’s that much more unpleasant to me to have people close to me not even do me the courtesy of checking first. At least let me know where your head is before you vomit the details of your day all over me.

And what I’m not saying is that however hard or challenging or frustrating or complicated they think their day is, it doesn’t come close to mine.

My daily experience would crush you.

Empathy is sometimes a challenge for me.

But it may not be as much of a challenge if the people around me would take a breath and find some courtesy first. I don’t think we can be allowed to be less courteous of the people we’re close to, I think we need to be that much more conscious.

I am helping no one else until I do EMDR and have a rest tomorrow, and I am certainly done listening to word vomit with patience until I am in a better place myself.

photo of standing woman making shhh gesture
Photo by David Fagundes on Pexels.com

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