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Let me give you an example that most people have encountered in their life, one that exemplifies something I have been struggling with recently.
Imagine you put on a new outfit, check it out in the mirror, spin around a few times and make sure your ass doesn’t look like an NFL defensive tackle is standing there. Then you ask someone, “Hey, what do you think of this outfit?”
And the person looks you up and down and says, “Well, I really like those pants.”
I would bet most people immediately think some version of, “Hey, what about the shirt? Are you telling me I should ditch the shirt? What’s wrong with my shirt? And you know what, screw you, your fashion sense sucks anyway. Your shirt is dumb, and so are you.”
That’s probably a little extreme, but I think a lot of people probably have some version of that inner dialogue.
I had a similar thing happen recently, but it wasn’t about clothes. Somebody made what I deemed a backhanded compliment, and I immediately launched a full investigation into what was said and what wasn’t said. I got myself pretty worked up and irritated, and then I ended up doing that thing where my own insecurity flips that comment from something that hurts a little, to angry s**t-talking where I start trying to character assassinate them in my brain. I start out by taking something personally, then come up with all the reasons you’re the one who actually sucks.
Is this a thing that only addicts and alcoholics do? No, definitely not. But as I have said many times, I identify with the parts of our sober literature where it digs into the idea that alcoholics do seem particularly sensitive to criticism, real or imagined. I certainly am.
And that’s an important note here. In that example about the outfit, did the person single out the pants because the shirt sucks? Maybe. It’s entirely possible. Or, maybe he just liked the pants quite a bit?
I did the right thing when I was spiraling the other day. I made some phone calls, and we always ended up chuckling about it. It’s either that the guy is a total asswipe, which is funny, or he just meant the thing he said as a compliment and I read into it, which is also funny when I think about how bad I overreacted.
At the end of the day, these situations are often a good window into where my self esteem is. When I know who I am and am spiritually fit and content with myself, you can say almost anything and it shouldn’t leave a mark.
When I am a little squirrely and overly sensitive, that little dig might not be so little. And that’s what I think happened here. I had a long week last week, and was over-tired and a little over-extended, somebody said something that should have been a paper cut, and I turned it into a mortal wound.
So I came out of it smiling and realizing there is almost no benefit to reading into things. Actually, now that I think about it, what’s the opposite of reading into something? Reading out of it? Just reading it and putting it down? I don’t know what to call it… but I am going to try to do that instead the next time.
This newsletter is a place of joy and laughter about the deadly serious business of sobriety. So, as I will often do, let me close with a joke:
AN OLDIE BUT A GOODIE:
Jack, the son of the town drunk, was sent to the principal's office for using a curse word at school. The principal scolded Jack: "We do not use that word here. Besides, you don't know what that word means."
"I do, too!" Jack replied. "It means the car won't start."
(Credit: AA Grapevine, January 2007, by Tim D. of Baldwin City, Kansas)
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