This happened.
Someone anonymously sent a message to me. Apparently, they felt that my blog entries about my pain over the supposed passing of my first love, Stephen Thomas Szasz, were really stupid, borderline mental illness. Possibly it was a bit of wishing someone had cared about them with such intensity. Maybe they had never loved another person with such passion because they actually had never learned how to love themselves.
The person, I think I know who they are, further expounded on how I must be such a loser to care so much. How it's abnormal for someone to grieve so deeply, to write about it for the whole world to read.
Furthermore, this unhappy creature cautioned me to seek a counselor because the feathers I found & how I felt about finding so many is not normal. Then, they expounded on my other flaws, my love for my Doberman puppy, that I wasted my time on needlework etc.
Here is my sincere public double bird salute from a famous mouse.
Instead of telling you this face to face as you took the cowards way, thinking you are so clever, sending a message to me that doesn't concretely ID you. Obviously, you don't know me as you seem to think you do. The message that you think wouldn't ID you, came from your isp which connected it to you.
Who is the fool, now. Don't answer, it's you.
The company that pays me to write this blog enjoys it that I'm so real. That the nitty gritty honesty, the truth in my opinions & life experience are refreshing. That I tell it as I see it.
Having so many personal struggles, I know I'm an under-dog. The one that so many people love to hate. I'm okay with that. Having never been a people pleaser, it's important for a person to love themselves, not caring what other people think.
Having seen the mistakes of others then, observing the outcome, it helped me to learn from other people's pain filled mistakes. Oh, I have made my own mistakes, maybe a kindred spirit has learned from my mistakes as well as the outcome.
All in all, it feels as if I have made some very profitable decisions. Some were financial, others offered different sorts of benefits. It's true that actions & decisions will fall short in pleasing everyone, it's best to please yourself, let the rest do as it may. Ya can't please all.
I'm a people helper, not a pleaser.
A people helper as in helping someone who genuinely needs it. What they do with that help is up to them. It's then, out of my hands.
What the person I helped or those who know of my helping them, think of me, is also on them, not me.
It's all good.
This concept is dispersed all over the world. Learning to love yourself just as you are or as you decide to be. Little to no care as to the opinions of others. Songs, quotes, entire books, poetry, works of art. It's in all cultures in all languages.
Opinions are like belly buttons. Nearly everyone has one. The only one it makes a dent in, is the one who has it.
Humans start out as deutosteromes. Some people fail to progress, mentally/emotionally beyond that stage.
People must love themselves enough to be enough, being just fine as they are without needing another person to "complete" them. I'm single because I want to be single.
There is so much more to life than following the urge to merge, coupling up because products in supermarkets mainly sell products in packages of two.
At first, when I was married, it was a bit rocky. As time went on, it reverted back full circle becoming rocky only more so as I discovered so many betrayals that, of course, he lied about when asked.
I felt so trapped.
A reoccurring dream I used to have was that I was bound with heavy chains from head to foot. As I struggled to free myself the chains tightened around me. I screamed, yet it was completely silent.
Then, right after the divorce, the dream stopped occurring.
This tells me that being married was definitely mostly a negative for me.
Maybe it was just the one I was married to that made it so awful. A counselor told me that it seemed that I was giving 95% then, maybe getting 5% back on a really good day.
It was hard enough for me that it's something I probably want to steer clear of. Never say never. Ha ha.
As someone who probably cares too much about everyone, while being unconcerned at what others think of me. It has brought a bit of trouble to me. It has also taken me to some very sweetly serendipitous situations. When you are very different from most people, it scares a lot of people because you're your own person, it's more effort to figure you out if they even can.
Depending upon the other people who are individuals, themselves, stereotyping is a knee jerk reaction.
Figure out the other person, squish them into the neat little box you believe they belong in. The same dimensions as the boxes prepared for all the other people that needed to be figured out.
Next?
Many people will fit in that mental box you prepared for them plus hundreds of others all in their own boxes. It's the ones like me who chooses to have a burning curiosity about everything that are seen as the problem. That fly in your sangria, the buzzing mosquito whom you can hear, it just escapes being truly seen.
Back to the lovely troll. Your words say more about you than they do regarding me. Thank you for the chuckles, Bozo.
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