Remember when I said I didn’t wanna up my meds? Well, since then I’ve cried at the dentist again, got my feelings hurt at work, and cried about that, and cried about that all day today including the forty minutes I spent in the bathroom while having lunch with Friend #3. My emotions are out of control. No further visits from the voice, but not a good way to live, regardless.
#3 (I call her #3 for short) gave me some fine Jewish wisdom along the lines of “Save yourself.” So I went out to the car and made an appointment with the psyc- still can’t say it – neuropsychiatrist. For the end of next month.
Regrettably, I was still crying at work. I anticipate this will continue the next six weeks. I did quite well through the four hours after lunch since I was on my own, but then the very nice young girl from the next cube over came by to ask me a favor.
Of course she saw my bleary eyes and asked what was wrong. “Oh,” I LIED, USING THE HEINOUS LIE I HAD FASHIONED IN CASE ANYONE AT WORK NOTICED, “It’s just all the Mom stuff catching up with me. You know my Mom died?”
And I know, you don’t think that’s a lie, but it is. And then the nice girl gave me a hug and I feel like a dog for lying. I hope I don’t break down in my big meeting tomorrow morning with the person who hurt my feelings and have to play the Mom card. I don’t lie often, because I am very bad at it.
(And if you are sitting there smugly saying, “she’s repressing her feelings about her Mom’s death,” I say no, I’m crazy. I am not myself. I just said someone hurt my feelings. For two solid days. I’m not like that.)
I think this must be spreading across the Internet. Finslippy isn’t herself either.
So, fun huh? Let’s talk about rice some more.
18 responses to “In Which I Lie”
I like basmati.I like Zoloft too.Why is your email address not on your site? Or am I an idiot?
I like to use “I just have a lot going on.” Everyone can relate to that.
Don’t feel bad about playing the mom card. It was wonderful of her to be concerned about you, but in the ultimate end, it’s none of her business what’s really wrong, so you don’t have to feel guilty about telling her about your mom. Plus, the bonus will be that people probably won’t bother you if you cry because they will “know” what’s wrong with you 😉
Mmm, I’m with magpie – I love basmati rice. And I’ve never thought of rice as a fluffy butter delivery system before. I think I like it was a fluffy gravy delivery system. Probably lived in The South too long – down there everything is a gravy delivery system.
You can feel however you want. Go with PMS for an excuse, no one can ever say anything about that because we all know we’ve been a bigger mess than anyone else could ever imagine. Damned hormonies.
Yeah … the decision to come clean about issues like that is a tough topic. Like when I am asked about my limp or why I could not come to work on a particular day; I lie. White lie, you know, you have to keep them straight.
I would say that falls well inside the category of “white lies,” the ones that don’t hurt anyone. Or does “social fiction” sound better than “white lie”?Speaking of harmless meaningless white things, I suddenly miss plain white rice like my Granny (a dreadful cook) used to make: slightly wet and a little too soft, with a scant drizzle of salty canned chicken gravy spooned over it. No pressure, but if it would perk you up, please consider yourself invited to the Sandwich Party that Jagosaurus and I are hosting this weekend. (Since your comment filter strips text links, if you want to check it out, just click on my name. The Sandwich Party is my current front page.)
I have an infallible recipe for basmatti rice. I swear, it works every single time. (3 parts rice, 5 parts water. Preheat stove to 350F. Put water and rice on a medium burner until it just begins to boil. Throw in a chunk of butter. Cover it with a tight lid. Put it in the oven for exactly 25 minutes. When you bring it out, fluff up the rice with a fork. Otherwise it all sticks together. I swear, this works.)I think you get to play the “Mom’s dead” card for at least another year. Whip it out at will. Work it.I’m having a pity party. Bring your own damn food or find a good Thai place along the way and bring enough for everybody.
Jasmine/rice cooker/like a rugI love 0.75’s line.
I will say this for myself (since it *is* all about me), I would have made a great mom.
You know your problem? (Well, one problem.) You live in a touchy feelie society. If you lived in England and looked even the least bit watery, everyone would leave you well alone until you’d bucked up. I blame Oprah.So, any guesses where I am? Not Fiji, but you’re getting warm. I’m even warmer (that’s another clue).
And by the way, have you noticed that while Finslippy gets hundreds of messages of sympathy and hope when she reports feeling weepy, you get people who really just want to talk about rice?
Get the meds. Meds are good. and #3 would be a great mom. Perhaps she could adopt you. She wouldn’t even need to save for college.
TasterSpoon – Thank you!#3 – I concur. A great mom and you are a great older sister to me! I think we both have siblings we’d like to substitute.I also liked the PMS comment. Women will understand and men will leave you alone.
Surely, if you just whined a little bit, they could up your meds. Sort of in preparation for your office visit? The sqeeky wheel….yada,yada, you know!
I’m sorry the crazy is getting to you, Ellen. I like a Zoloft chaser with my rice, so I have no help but much sympathy.I have found, though, that it is hard to be sad while listening to the Barenaked Ladies sing about ninjas. (I have kids, the Snacktime CD gets a lot of play in my minivan…)
Magpie – Yeah, well, so many people say how trolls only approach them through email, and the email contains the mysterious last name for the S_____ family, and because It already freaks me out when I have more than three things in my inbox, I don’t publish it. But if you ask, I’ll send it to you..75 – See, if you said that to me, I’d started listing the things I thought were going on. “Love life problems? Work problems? Is it Me? Is is something I did?”yookie – That’s true. My guess is she told everyone the next morning. She’s young. She probably sent an email. And she might be right.Amy in stL – NO! Grits! They don’t put gravy on grits, do they? They gave us about a quarter-cup of butter with our grits on the way back from Louisville.Katie – Only PMS only flies for about a week. Unless the hormones rage longer with middle-aged women.mdmhvonpa – Yeah, lying about my MS lasted about two momnths at my new job. But I’m not as open as I was at the last job. I’ll answer any questions, but people have to ask me.Elsa – But, doesnt it worry you when other people white lie at you?Becs – Thai food? That’s like Indian food, isn’t it? Gary thinks Indian food makes me cry.Tasterspoon – Hmm – jasmine rice? That sounds too delicate. I like me a hearty rice.#3 – Well, you could still be.Big Dot – Captian Cook islands! There’s not a dot, because google analytics evidently doesnt recognize them, but there was a mysterious sudden increase in the graph.Big Dot – Finslippy – I was all ready to post a supportive message and then saw there were 100 people before me. Plus, rice is as comforting.Caroline – This is true. She could be a substitiute Mom, except she’d have to stop using her arms. especially for the hugging crap..75 – Friend #3 should rent herself out as a substitute sibling.Judith – Actually, I’m upping it without permission. I have enough, plus he still thinks I’m on the dose he gave me when Mom was dying.Lauren – Maybe I should switch back to Snacktime. I’ve had BLAMEN on for a month.
“But, doesnt it worry you when other people white lie at you? – The Queen”Often, it does not worry me. Often*, I know they’re doing it, and it’s not that hard to tell a real white lie from self-serving bullshit**. Sometimes, when someone says, “Oh, I think [recent grief-inspiring event] is catching up with me,” I take it at face meaning. But sometimes it’s code. Sometimes that code means “Thanks for your concern, but this is private.”I’ve said it myself, when I couldn’t properly calibrate my own emotional responses: am I actually upset over Person X’s behavior, or is this my grief bubbling over and coloring unrelated incidents? Invoking the code above gave me a grace period during which to assess my own responses. *I’m probably less perceptive than I suppose.**See above.