“Hey, soft creature… what makes you purr?”
“Ugh, leave me alone and let me drink my tea.”
That is me – the burnt out roommate who has been ignored for so long that now, when you finally knock on the door to ask what she wants, she is like:
“Now you care? Go hang out with your friends. I have got nothing left to say.”
Not mean… just done. I do not trust myself to treat my needs with care. I am not acting like a victim – I am wary of my own intentions. Imagine if you have been starving for years and lost half of your body weight and when you finally reached out for help you were told to stop being dramatic.
I know I am apt to help everyone else first. When I bother to check in, somewhere, I know it is only temporary.
Or performative. Or conditional.
So I remind myself that this is OK. I am here.
I will drink the tea. And do the necessary chores (if needed). But I do it like a truce. Not like penance.
“Fine I will take a shower”
As I lay pretty rocks and seashells on the floor.
(I might be a brat, but I am a clever brat)
