Friday, January 31, 2014

When No Big Deal is a Big Fucking Deal


I am not denying that I have been negative this past week.

Yes, I have bitched and moaned on Facebook about the fact that I had a flood in my apartment that was not my fault (I wasn't even home) and the ways that the maintenance staff at the property handled it incorrectly. It's annoying to me when people are incompetent, and even more annoying when their incompetence affects my daily life. I had to eat every meal at work or at Rachel'd for several days because my kitchen was so dirty I wouldn't even walk into it. I had to leave Juno at Rachel's, which is a pain in the ass for everyone, because it wasn't a safe breathing environment for my asthmatic cat. I was staying away from home as many hours as possible in case of mold growth. Not to mention the fact that having a carpet fan and a dehumidifier in an apartment is loud, obnoxious, and so. freaking. HOT.

So yea, I have been a pissy pants about it. And when I am a pissy pants about things, I vent. And this week I was venting on Facebook. And it is my Facebook page. If you're annoyed by me whining about a flood in my fucking house, don't read it. Hide me from your news feed, I don't even care. But don't tell me things like, man you're grouchy, or cheer up, or calm down, or it isn't that big of a deal. That just makes me more mad. And then I go from just being mad and annoyed at life and the world in general, to actually kinda pissed off at you specifically.



(For the record, on the apartment manager end of things, a flood - no matter how big or small - is a big fucking deal. Water intrusion is a big deal. Standing dirty-ass water with no known source, is a big deal. Extracting water from your apartment is a big deal. So just so it's clear, yes, a flood in my apartment was a big damn deal.)

Maybe it wouldn't bother you if your house was full of what came from someone else's washing machine or dishwasher, but I find it incredibly disgusting. And leaving my cat at someone else's house, upsets me. I like having my cat at home, I like having her asleep at the foot of my bed. I like snuggling with her by the fire. I don't like eating dinner and leaving my cat at my friends' houses every night. I get very frustrated when people tell me how to think or what to feel. I hate being told that I am overreacting or that something is not as bad as I am saying it is. It doesn't matter what someone else thinks; it matters what I think. Maybe I think you are under-reacting, but you're the one experiencing the feelings, so they're valid.


I have blogged in the past about how much I hate when people tell me how I "should" feel or think or act. I hate the word should. What should happen is, I should have my own feelings and thoughts, and my own emotional response to events happening around me. And people need to respect that my reactions won't always mirror theirs. And other people should have separate feelings and thoughts, and they should emotionally respond to things happening around them. And I need to respect when someone else reacts differently than I would. What should not be happening is, no one should be telling me how to feel, nor should I be telling anyone else what they should feel.

This was an emotional week. My friend's baby died, and I attended a funeral - for a FIVE WEEK OLD BABY. That is just not ok. That should not have happened. My friend should be holding her snuggly soft little boy, not trying to find motivation to pack away his clothes. That was one of the most beautiful, and most devastating memorial services I have attended - and I have unfortunately attended many. And then my cousin's sister's baby was born and had all these complications we were reading about on Facebook and all I did was worry about that baby. And then my friend told me his fucking bitch ex girlfriend won't let him see his kid all the sudden, and all I did was worry about him and worry about how this crap weighs on a child who is old enough to see what's happening. And then my fucking apartment flooded and I had just had enough bad shit for one week.

So yes, I may have overreacted or complained too much about the water in my apartment, or about not being able to bring Juno home with me. But when all you want to do is snuggle with your cat on the couch and cry your fucking eyes out about all the other, more serious, heavy-hearted shit you have running through your head, not being able to even keep said cat at home because of moldy water, is a big deal.


You never know what someone else is thinking or feeling, or what has happened in their day to make them react to something the way that they do, or to make them have the overly emotional response they have to something that you think is stupid. So stop telling people to cheer up or calm down. They may have just had the worst weekend they've ever had, watching their friend struggle to say goodbye to a brand new baby, only to come home to a flood in their apartment. Emotional responses are not black and white. Remember that the next time you tell someone that what they are experiencing is no big deal.


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