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Me: My feet hurt.
Somebody Else: It might go away. Any day now it could vanish just the way it came.
That still makes me angry, but y'know what? I can also see the flip side to it, a little bit.
Yes, it would still be mindbogglingly stupid for me to plan my life around the hope that my feet will suddenly heal. Therein lies a recipe for putting myself "on hold" until my grave, waiting until I win the (medical) lottery instead of living now.
Yes, it's still mindbogglingly insensitive of Somebody Else to pretend that this is a temporary problem and thus hugely, quantitatively and qualitatively, easier to deal with than what I am actually facing.
Yes, I still feel like I'm not heard.
Yes, I still feel like I'm being called a liar, and yes, I still hate being called a liar.
But y'know what? Somebody Else might really kinda need their illusions. Denial can be a gift. I can choose to give the gift of not trying to burst their bubble.
The day will come when I'm sufficiently less angry that I can give that gift.
Somebody Else: It might go away. Any day now it could vanish just the way it came.
That still makes me angry, but y'know what? I can also see the flip side to it, a little bit.
Yes, it would still be mindbogglingly stupid for me to plan my life around the hope that my feet will suddenly heal. Therein lies a recipe for putting myself "on hold" until my grave, waiting until I win the (medical) lottery instead of living now.
Yes, it's still mindbogglingly insensitive of Somebody Else to pretend that this is a temporary problem and thus hugely, quantitatively and qualitatively, easier to deal with than what I am actually facing.
Yes, I still feel like I'm not heard.
Yes, I still feel like I'm being called a liar, and yes, I still hate being called a liar.
But y'know what? Somebody Else might really kinda need their illusions. Denial can be a gift. I can choose to give the gift of not trying to burst their bubble.
The day will come when I'm sufficiently less angry that I can give that gift.
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