Deal with your Shit

Seriously. We all have issues. We've all had trauma. None of us had exactly the childhood we deserved. Those things leave scars--I am not so without compassion that I don't understand that. In fact, the people I most admire are those who take such struggles and use them for good, instead of evil.

My frustration comes when people stagnate. Stagnant water is a scummy, bug-infested mess. Turns out that stagnant people are pretty much the same as the water. To be fully aware that you have an issue negatively impacting your interactions with others and then choose to not deal with those disfunctions for years is stoopid. Stoopid enough that it requires the use of two 'o's.

My husband was crippled emotionally by his self-serving, jacked up parentals. He (and ocassionally I join him) has been seeing a psychologist for 4 years to deal with the aftermath. Four fucking years. Has he made progress? Sure. Noticeably so from his completely emotionally constipated state of yester-year. Does he journal as suggested by the psychologist? Nope. The sheer obstinance and avoidance of this topic makes me insane. Like beat my head against the wall and gnash my teeth insane. It also sometimes makes me want to run because of the sheer hopeless feeling that invades my spirit. I know he's better than the baggage strapped to his soul, but complacency is paralyzing. Complacency leaves me bored. Complacency leaves me frustrated. What swift kick in the ass is going to get him to move forward?

And that is why I want to scream, "DEAL.WITH.YOUR.SHIT." Deal with it now so that you don't have to deal with it alone as a sad old man, left in the dust because you became so entrenched in your ways that I couldn't take it anymore.

Turns out, I have no control over his shit-dealing. Time to deal with the skid marks left on me as he brushes by. . .