I have a problem, an ailment perhaps. Those closest to me
may know of it, but those who aren’t around me much may be unaware that it is
an issue I struggle with much more often than I’d care to admit. After being
hurt several times in my life and having people judge me, often for matters beyond
my control, I developed tough skin. My motto has been “man up,” for the last
several years.
I made it my business to share the truth, unapologetically,
even if it hurt others. I figured if others felt so compelled to have input in
my life, I ought to be able to reciprocate. If others felt the need to make up
stories about me, I figured I’d make it my duty to not to do so. I would be
sure that anything I said about someone in their absence, I could say in their
presence, if they ever asked. I could be embarrassed to do so, depending on how
sensitive the individual may be about the issue. However, I’d run into situations
where people said things about me,
whether true or untrue, and then weren’t
forthcoming when it came time to own up to them.
With time, this truth-telling became an issue. I felt it
necessary to tell those around me how bothered I was by the way they talked, walked,
etc. As long as others were talking about it, it was my duty to bring it to
their attention, so it was no longer gossip. I guess subconsciously, I had
convinced myself I was some kind of emotional Robin Hood. I took what others had
spoken in the dark, or speculated about, and took it to the source, or the
person it affected. Unfortunately, I became the bad guy, the culprit. I was blamed
for the things being said, rather than for bringing it to their attention.
As time went on, my speaking the truth started to change
from being ‘in love’ to just talking without thinking. I figured that as long
as it was the truth, it simply had to be said. Seldom do I get offended, so I
figured if I didn’t think it was anything I would get offended about, then the
hearer shouldn’t get offended either. Out of concern, my brothers and husband
explained that just because I didn’t think something was hurtful didn’t mean it
wasn’t. My response tended to be, “Ehn…that sucks. People shouldn’t be so
sensitive; they just need to man up.”
Over the years, I named this issue of mine ‘diarrhea of the
mouth’, being that it’s the term my dad has always used to describe when
someone continually speaks without thinking, since that’s what my brothers said
I was doing. When people complained about it, I chucked it up to my DOM. Now,
it’s become part and parcel of me. It’s like something I can’t shake. It’s like
that friend or family member everyone knows to be mean or angry, so when they
respond angrily, people just say, “Oh, that’s just so-and-so; he/she is just
like that.”
Two weeks ago, at church, I heard a message that had me
thinking real hard. It was about how we are accountable for our words. The
gentleman who spoke that day stated that we, being spirits, are to speak the
words of life to others. We were encouraged to change situations by our words,
not worsen them. I got a check in my
spirit, so when I read Matthew 12:34 – 37, it really hit home. Now, I’m set on changing,
even though I know it will require me being purposeful about my actions and
words. I’m pretty sure that I’ve heard that those in AA are told that admission
is the first step to recovery. Well, that’s my admission, and now that it’s
been openly admitted, I have others to whom I am accountable.
