Day 8: Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like poop.
Kidding. If you are Jane Garitowitz, sorry for using your name. But I fully believe we make our own lives hell. Sure there are some nasty people that say nasty things, but it’s how we chose to deal with the nasty.
Story time. I remember sitting in high school math class my freshman year and this girl, I’ll call her Sue Silver, started whispering my name and saying nasty things. Up until that day I had never met Sue Silver. I knew her name, but had never spoken to her or of her…ever. And suddenly she’s saying nasty things. So I speak up dumbfounded and ask who she is, trying to point out we don’t know each other.
I couldn’t have even told you who her friends were. (Let’s face it, my world revolved around church. I was not allowed to go to the houses of kids parents my mother didn’t know, so that limited my friends to church.) The nasty continues. Again, dumfounded I tell her I think she has the wrong Heather.
The nasty escalates, and at this point I’m at a complete loss-my patience is thin-and I’ve about had enough. I’m ready to get up and bust some chops…in the middle of math class, so instead I start slamming my fist of my desk. And that is when the teacher, after hearing the nasty continue for the last 30-minutes finally steps in and says enough…right as the bell rings.
We leave. There is no rumble in the hallway. The next day in class nothing. Not a damn thing. I can only assume that she figured out she had the wrong Heather, and she was just too embarrassed to admit her mistake. A couple years later I found myself in the same class as Sue Silver once again. About half way into the semester she asked if I was still mad at her. And still as dumbfounded as the first day she uttered my name I shook my head no and shrugged my shoulders.
To this day I have no clue what that was about. But that is my memory of Sue Silver. It was one day of hell. One day of being treated like poop. And I have never forgotten. Never stopped wondering why.
Sure, other "people" have made my life hell. That was until I realized it's my own actions and reactions that created that hell. It's my choice to take the road that leads to that hell or about-face. Sometimes the about-face is really easy. Sometimes I apparently need to revisit that hell to remind myself it's not a fun place.
There is a song by Company of Thieves called "Oscar Wilde" that sums it up well...'we are all our own devil, and we make this world our hell'.