Sunday, July 8, 2012

Leave a message… But really, don't do that.

I know, I'm running the risk of making a liar out of myself.  I haven't delved back in to the blogging world with as much gusto as I would have liked when summer arrived.  But if you look back at my last post, I really only provided an estimated percentage of chance, I made no vows or promises.  I have been writing quite a lot this summer, only it's been taking pen to paper and then hiding it in corners of my house so well that sometimes I even forget where I've placed my moleskin journal.  I know that I have used this blog to put myself out there and be more open than I would have initially imagined, but damn.  Trust me, you don't want to read what I've been writing about. (Actually, I'd probably get mass amounts of followers and at least three publishing offers, it has all the elements that inspire folks to come back for another look, much like rubbernecking a car crash.  People are sick and weird… I'd wanna read it)

What I need is a new song challenge of something to make me stop in and jot things down like in the beginning when I was blogging every day.  I'll have to look into that, but for now, brace yourself.  I HAVE NO TRAUMA TO SHARE OR SAD BASTARD POST TO MAKE.  I know it's unlike me lately, as I mainly hop on the blogging train to therapeutically exorcise my internal demons, but it's true.  Since so many of the folks that read this stuff are buddies scattered all over the globe, I will just accept that if you could, you'd pat me on the back in thanks. You're welcome.  The flip side is that I really have nothing deep or important to say.  I'm ok with that.

Anger has been on my mind.  I haven't been hulking out lately or anything, and when I really examine what's going on inside of me, I am finding that in the midst of this shitty transitional period, I'm not as angry as I probably would have once been.  When I mean anger, I mean fury that comes from deep within, powered by reason and strong emotion.  I am not carrying as much of that around recently.  I do, however, still possess a wealth of irrational anger and will probably always be that way.  No, it's not the same thing.  Let me explain.

Irrational anger example:  When Kroger does not have the cream that I like to use for my coffee.  This is not a big deal, but upon realization that this has happened, I immediately black out and envision myself trashing the dairy department and verbally berating the manager to the point of tears when he comes over to investigate what the hell is going on.  Poor guy, he didn't stand a chance.   All of this happens in the course of three seconds in my brain before I regain my composure, shake my head at the fact that I'm irrationally angry over something that isn't important and keep pushing my cart.  See?  Irrational anger is not the same as the real deal.  I am always able to recognize it for what it is, play the scenario out in my head and keep on truckin'.  Real anger inspires well thought out action that results in   some sort of evident damage to the target… it means someone ought to run, though there is no real point because I can wait anyone out.  Told you it was different.

side note:  I'm not crazy.  I'm just more introspective than some people and am more willing to admit what goes on inside my head.  I accept fully the nature of the beast.  Deal with it, cause I'm fine with it.


This brings me to my phone.  Bear with me, it will tie in (I hope).  We've established here before that I don't like talking on the phone for various reasons.  Everyone knows this, but they call me anyhow.  That's fine, because all of these folks KNOW that I only answer the phone for three people and that hence, they've wasted their time.  No irrational anger on this end.  Not yet, anyway.  What throws me into a tailspin is when I get the awful sound notification from my phone telling me that they have left me a voicemail.   Seriously?  Thanks, friend.  You just jacked up my whole world.

In case you don't know this about me, I have voice message phobia.  Don't judge me, or do.  It won't change it. Maybe it's because I've gotten a lot of bad news via telephone or message, I don't know. While I could speculate wildly about the origin of this issue, it really doesn't matter in the end.  When I hear that noise and see that dreaded red circle with a number in it on my iPhone, it just wrecks me.  That stupid circle just sits there, taunting me and not letting me live my life because it's not supposed to be there and I know it won't go away until I listen to the damn thing.

Listen, don't do that.  Please.  Just send me a text and you will likely get an immediate answer because I'm not rude and I don't ignore text messages. (Oops, almost went off on a pet peeve rant.  Maybe some other time.) If it takes me a while to reply, it's for a reason.  Some may say I'm rude because I don't reply to voice mail messages, but it's not true.  You just don't get me.  Truth is, I never listened to it.  I simply hit 'play' and yell "BLAH BLAH BLAH"until I can immediately delete it just to get rid of the notification icon.

It's not because I don't care about what you have to say.  It's because I have an issue, much like diabetes.  You wouldn't get mad at a diabetic for having dietary restrictions, so don't get mad at me for how I cope with my affliction. Ok, maybe it's not exactly the same, but the point is that it's not personal.  It's not you, it's me. Usually in all other cases it's you, but this time it's not.

So in an attempt to avoid irrational anger on my end and hurt feelings on your end, I am going to change my voice mail.  "Hi.  You've reached Tania.  Please do not leave me a message because I will not listen to it.  Text me for a timely reply.  Thanks in advance for your cooperation."  This will be a project of epic proportion, because it takes me all day to record myself speaking and willingly save it for others to hear.  It's an awful process, full of cringing, large doses of wrinkling my nose and feeling shame and remorse that I expose and assault people that I care about with the sound of my voice.  But I'm intent on following through.  It's the only responsible thing to do.

Until then, if you must be a rule breaker and a bad direction follower, call me if you must.  But please, do not leave me a damn message.  You just never know when a bout of irrational anger could tip me right over the edge of sanity, and you don't want to carry that guilt around for the rest of your life, do you?

Thanks in advance for your cooperation.

2 comments:

  1. I can relate. Although I wouldn't pin my issues with voicemail as a phobia, it's pretty big. I don't listen to my VMs (unless a text immediately follows stating it's importance, and even then it's a far stretch). I try not to leave them either...I just hate conversation by phone. I'm strictly text for indirect conversation, and personal, direct conversation by face. (This is Jylie, by the way--had to switch my profile alias after being stalked and harassed by a psycho blogger (also, which is why my blog is gone.)) xo

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  2. Hey, good looking. First of all, thank you for leaving a reply here. I tend to get most comments under my blog links on other sites, while this one has tumbleweeds blowing around and making me look like an asshole. But whatever, I should be fine with looking like I talk to myself, because I actually do it a lot.

    You are a stellar phone communicator as well as a delightful in person type of gal. That's one of the 72 reasons why I dig you so much.

    I am utterly intrigued by your psycho blogger stalker. I have personally never had a stalker that I am aware of, so the crazy part of me is slightly jealous. I demand a full back story and details so I can vicariously live an exciting life through your trials and tribulations.
    XO

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