I Didn’t Invite You to My Pity Party

Yesterday I was going to write and invite you to my Pity Party.

But I decided to just go it alone. I was in a bit of an awful state.

I just decided to feel sorry for myself even though I really should have been able to get over whatever was bothering me. I should have been “perky and peppy” instead, laughing and smiling, and being wonderful. But I wasn’t. I was growling and sulking.

It’s been a rough couple of days:

  • My daughter moved back in with me on Sunday. Starting early Monday, we fought over everything, made everything wrong, and were mean and miserable to each other.
  • I couldn’t figure out how to talk to her without both of us hissing and spewing hatred, resentment and blame. It wasn’t fun.
  • Today, when she was out and I could clear my head, I sent her a text complimenting her and then telling her that I can’t count on her to do what she says. This causes me resentment, makes ME look like the ass hole for continually having to ask her, and misery.
  • She came home and we talked. She first blamed me for why she doesn’t do what she says and I just listened, saying ok and anything else? When there was nothing left for her to spew, I helped her create a structure for keeping her word. I gave her a book where she could write down what she promises people she will do, and then schedule those tasks into her day. It took about 5 minutes. She was grateful.
  • Now, we are friends again and laughing and getting along. It’s a miracle.

The second thing:

  • I was going to hire a company to help me go after my dream. I talked to my Financial Planner. and he asked me a lot of questions about why I was spending this money. I didn’t have the answers. I got upset, decided I was stupid for doing it, it wouldn’t work anyway, and I was an idiot for wasting the money.
  • Instead I would save the money, waddle along in life without purpose, and avoid taking any risks.
  • I invalidated everything I’ve ever done, felt sorry for myself, and was resigned that “this is as good as it’s ever going to get.” La-dee, la-dee, la. Poor me. I’ll survive, it’s ok. Dumb idea. Boo Hoo.
  • I wallowed some more.
  • Today I got a text. One of the guys I was going to work with asked me to talk to him.
  • “Why? What does he want? Probably his money,” I thought with cynicism.
  • “I’m not giving in,” I thought. “I’ll just listen. I won’t say a word.”
  • I listened. Then he asked me a question about what I wanted. It was hard to answer but I finally did. “It’s a lot of money,” I said afterwards.
  • “You are paying for two guys to work for you for 4 months to make you successful. That’s what you’re paying for,” he said.
  • “What does successful mean to you?” I asked.
  • “Oh, OK,” I said. The resignation lifted off my chest. I paid the invoice on my phone.
  • And guess what? I stopped feeling sorry for myself. I felt alive again and on a mission.
  • It was another miracle.

Those were the two big things I resolved today.

So I’m sorry I can’t invite you to my Pity Party. Next time, I’ll invite you before it ends.

Have a great day.

2 thoughts on “I Didn’t Invite You to My Pity Party

  1. It is so reassuring to hear another senior graduate going through this kind of stuff. And so inspiring to watch you work through it – time after time. You are an inspiration.

    Liked by 1 person

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