There are times that I hate thinking. With a passion. I spend a lot of time in my head – analysing, mulling, introspection, rehashing and more. I make a point of connecting with people on a daily basis if I don’t have my kids with me, whether it is via phone, visits, going out or even WhatsApp messages, just to get out of my head. I love the human connection. Face to face is best for me, but not always possible, so the other forms of contact are substitutes.
I do love WhatsApp – that you can send a quick voice note while you are driving or walking to the shops or doing the washing up in the kitchen. It allows me the space to tell people stuff or ask them stuff, when I know that they are not necessarily free at the same time. I have a very dear friend who lives in the USA and has an insane job in the medical profession. Between the time zone differences and the work hours in the hospital, it is not easy to find time to talk, but we squeeze in time every week. It is one of my life savers. One of my most favourite times. When someone has known you for more than half of your life, they are entrenched in so many ways.
Today I took offence to something another friend of mine said – a friend who is also entrenched in my life and whom I sincerely hope remains so. Let’s call this friend Goldie – cause I always thought that Goldie Hawn was a person who was just waiting to bubble over with fun and enjoyment of life, kind of how I think of this person in some ways. I told Goldie that I went out for dinner last night and the first question that I was asked is if I am dating again. It is perhaps a minor thing. It probably should be a minor thing. Which of course, begs the question then, as to why it bothered me more and more, the more I thought about it, to the point where it was bothering me enough and making me aggravated enough to bring it up with Goldie. I did say to her that I was cross, but on reflection, aggravation is more accurate. Not cross.
One of the things that I realised was that I tell Goldie a lot of things. I mean a lot of things. We are walking a very similar path and have many life experiences where we look at one another with disbelief, as the other person is describing their life and it perfectly covers part of our life too. I am, however, the kind of person who once I trust you implicitly, will lay most things bare. (There are things that I never talk about to anyone. My “dark” stuff.) I share things from the day to day banalities, to the really hard experiences – the miscarriage, the guilt, the sadness, the vulnerabilities, the failings (perceived or real) and so forth. Goldie hears a very large amount of this, but I know and accept that she does not do the same. That’s okay. People are at different stages in healing and trust and it is not easy to change a life time of habits and I do not expect anyone to do that for me, just as I would not do that anymore for someone else to whom I do not wish to bare my soul.
The aggravation came in because I realised that for someone I consider to be extremely intuitive and off the charts intelligent, with an enormously high EQ, it appeared that Goldie did not know that I tell her so very much more than practically anyone else I know. It aggravated me because it was not something I expected to have to spell out. It aggravated me because I fucked myself over by having expectations or perhaps by not seeing this coming. It aggravated me because it hurt me that it was not obvious to someone that is so very in tune with me. I was aggravated that she thought that I would not tell her if I was dating.
Maybe you are reading this and thinking this is a mountain out of a molehill and there is a part of me that would agree with that. There is a part of me that says stop being such a fucking weak individual. Stop relying on other people. What the fuck do they ever do for you anyway, other than let you down or leave. However, another part of me also has to reign that side of me in. Reign in that side of me which is the person who has been abused for a lifetime. Reign in the side who takes things to the extreme and overthinks and spends too much time in her head.
Fuck it. I hate thinking. I wish I didn’t have the capacity.
Elevenses in Cape Town 