Yesterday I snapped. I’m not proud of it, but I lost my shit.

It’s as if I finally decided to wipe the footprints off of my back. I have lost my temper many times before, but not in recent years. In recent years I’ve really learnt to tolerate so much, not rise to situations and lash out, and to keep it classy.

Not yesterday.

Yesterday I was far from classy. I cringe at myself, but i’m trying to not beat myself up.

I’ve had anger issues throughout my life, but to be fair to me, it’s always been provoked. If someone has repeatedly hurt me, or been really spiteful I’d be a bitch back.

However, some time ago I decided I don’t want to be that person anymore. I decided I will not raise my voice no matter how much abuse is shouted at me by family members. I will not name call. I will not be sassy sarcastic Stacey. It’s been such a positive change in my life. Acknowledging I can’t control how other people act, but I can control how I react to it.

But yesterday, I couldn’t take it.

Someone was being so unreasonable, and I tried to keep it chill and classy.  Even with her ‘mouthing off’ at me, swearing with her hands on her hip, making threats. I lost it.

I swore back at her. Told her of to go and F herself, may have called her a female dog. (I didn’t use the C bomb).

She approached me wanting a confrontation. I hate conflict. I hate confrontation but I always say things to people’s faces rather than behind their back. I grew up around two faced girls and it was always so gross to me.

But yesterday I was all out of tolerance. Someone in my personal space berating me. Not letting me speak. Not listening to reason.

I lost my shit. 31 years of taking abuse just unleashed.

I should have ignored her but I was beyond frustrated. I’d exhausted trying to be rational.

Immediately after I was at an emotional support session. I haven’t cried in one of those for years. But yesterday as soon as I was asked if I was ok, I just broke down.

I felt so fragile. So painfully disappointed in myself for sinking down to the woman’s level. So upset that i’d lost control and had resorted to being a bitch myself.

I know i’m not a bad person. I’m deeply compassionate, fair and rational. Every one has limits though. I had reached mine,

I was reminded by this lady (from the emotional support team) that I’m going through a lot. That this outburst doesn’t make me a bad person.

I tried being rational. I demonstrated a decent level of patience. But the relentless aggression and hostility pushed me to a shitty place.

I’m so exhausted of miserable bitter people taking out their frustration on others. No matter how bad of a day I am having, whether i’m grieving or am not well, I do not have a shitty attitude and impose my negative vibes on others. I know too many people who are like that. I refuse to be that sort of person. An asshole.

I also refuse to be a walkover anymore. When I was a kid and even in my late teens/ear;y twenties, I had a ‘best’ friend who would make me feel so ashamed of myself for sticking up for myself.  She’d really put me down whenever I stuck up for myself, or even her! But looking back i’d rather be how I was than like she was. She was painfully two faced. Literally Regina George asking about a girls skirt, saying she loves it, then as soon as the girl walks off, saying ‘I f*ing hate that ugly skirt*.

 

I don’t have to be like the bitter nasty people from my past. I also don’t have to be a two faced p*ssy who can’t stick up for myself but who is nasty and two faced. I’ve learnt from a lot of people from my past exactly who I don’t want to be. So for that, i’m thankful.

I think being two faced and fake af is gross and majorly unclassy. I think being aggressive and a miserable asshole is far from classy.  I sound like I have an obsession with the word ‘classy’. I don’t. I just always advise people going into difficult situations to ‘keep it classy’.

I’ve had 35 year old’s (who are police officers) shout fatty at me. (They were off duty and it was someone I know personally to be fair).  I’ve had strangers who I’ve never met message me abuse on Facebook (one reason why i’m not longer on that disease of a site). Purely because they were creepily obsessed with my boyfriend and didn’t like that he started dating me. The same person I saw recently in Sainsburys and Sassy Stacey reared her ugly head and got a tad confrontational and this chick ran and hid.

The reason I got like that was because at the time I got these vile messages of abuse from this stranger (a stranger, I didn’t even recognise her in the supermarket until my boyfriend pointed her out in sainsburys)… my mum had not long had a stroke. I myself was really unwell. My mum and I had to sell our business. I was estranged from a lot of my relatives and receiving abuse from some of the pricks that unfortunately have DNA that matches mine.  I was in a bad way. I was heartbroken, terrified and completely unable to stand up for myself. I didn’t want to be in the world anymore. Then on my birthday, I received this horrible message from a girl who was dating …. get this… my boyfriend’s friend’s little brother. YES! my boyfriend barely knew her either. She accused me of ‘stealing’ my dude from their ‘group’. Ok then. She was in her twenties. Grow the f*ck up. Are people really that lame? Honestly! He’d missed one night out. Give me a break!

So when I saw her recently, I wanted to confront her and I asked her if she wanted to apologise to me. She hid. Not so brave when not pounding on a keyboard eh? I wanted her to face someone she’d been abusive to. I’ve heard from several people who know her that she’s a foul mouthed nasty woman who people are intimidated by. I wanted to look at her and ask her if she’d like the opportunity to apologise. I guess she didn’t. I guess facing someone scared her enough to run and hide behind the flowers.  I was sick of people like that who have a total disregard of people’s feelings. Who think it’s socially acceptable to message a stranger abuse and calling them foul names. Who even after the person going through absolute hell pleading with them to leave them alone, continues to be a spiteful little shit. I was sick of it. I was stronger when I saw her in person. My mum was home and although has suffered brain damage, was home and smiling again. I was having treatment and medicated and able to function. I was still angry though. I was angry for every person who has to endure abuse and isn’t strong enough to ignore it or cope with it. So when I saw her, I couldn’t let the opportunity evade me. I know it was confrontational, but I wanted her to see me when i’m not weak. To realise that the people she messages shit to are real people. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt to see if she had any remorse. She didn’t.  What a bitch. What a nasty pathetic dickhead. I could be smug in the knowledge none of the people she considers friends like her. They’ve all said they can’t stand her behind her back but are too frightened to say it to her face or call her out on her shit.  I’m not smug. I’m just grateful I have genuine friends. I feel bad for her.

Some people are so exhausting. Mentally and emotionally draining. They are not the sort of people I choose to roll with. I don’t have time or energy for them. I will try at all costs to avoid an argument. I will always be mindful of the volume of my voice. I’ll keep my acid tongue on lock down. If i find myself losing my shit I will try to ignore it. If they follow me I will try to ignore it.

I can’t guarantee that I’ll never lose my patience again. But it’s something i’m aiming to avoid in life.

I don’t want any more stress. I have enough of it right now. I’m not happy about it, but sometimes it’s unavoidable.

I’ll remind myself that I don’t have to be like those people. The people who like to intimidate others. Who are spiteful. They’re grim af.  I pity them. How miserable and unhappy they must be in life. How selfish they are to inflict that shit on others. Fuck that.

 

One thing my mum brought me up to do was to be honest and stand up for myself. My mum was far from perfect. She had a temper. She could be ‘gobby’ and it would make me cringe. (only ever provoked. She’d never look for trouble, but she’d finish it).

But at least she taught me to never be two face and instilled in me the importance of being genuine. Of never being fake. And for that, I’ll always be grateful. Regardless of how much resentment I had towards her. We hashed that out years ago. She broke down and apologised finally, because I refused to leave. I refused to let her push me away and ignore me. That is when she admitted she couldn’t handle me being unwell and when she told me those words i’ll never forget. ‘You are the nicest person i’ve ever known’. She was frustrated that I was ‘so nice’.

I was shocked, but no matter what anyone calls me now, my mother, one of my biggest critics, someone who lived with me for decades, who has seen me at my worst, in the midst of crying following a 2 hour long argument told me that i’m kind and that she’s sorry for her mistakes. For being unkind to me.

People can call me fat, ugly, stupid, but that will never drown out the words of my mother.

I know regardless of me shouting back and swearing at that vile woman yesterday, I’m still a kind person. It’s still on my mind, hence why I’m writing this in a blog post.

Part of my focus for this week is to question why I still love those who have hurt me. My response was that I love everyone on a human level. But that’s not true. There are a few humans I despise. Who I truly believe are evil. I won’t go into that here.

But even some who have been so unkind and so vicious and abusive towards me… I still have love for them. I can’t turn that off. Am I just conditioned to love them?  One of them I’ve seen 2 (and been told of one other) act of kindness or selflessness in 31 years. Only 3. The people I roll with are just kind, to their very core. Random acts of kindness every single day. They’re unaware they’re even being kind. It’s just in their nature. But this one human, I can only ever recall 2 – 3 acts of kindness. Even they all involved money.  I’m wondering if it was genuine kindness or for self gratification. After all, this is a person who broadcasts it to the world when they donate to charity, but behind closed doors couldn’t give a fuck about charity.

My focus over the next month is to challenge myself and to ask myself why I excuse their behaviour.  I always say ‘they had a bad childhood’.  I’m instantly reminded ‘so did you Stacey, I see clients every day who have had horrific childhoods who aren’t horrible people’.

So why do I love these people? I kind of hate that I do. Which sounds absurd because you should love all humans right?  Even when I watch a documentary on a serial killer, a lot of the time I’ll wonder what happened to them in their childhood to make them that way. I’ll try to understand how someone can become so awful. I’ll wonder what mental instability/condition plagues them. Some people though, I just see as pure evil.

I don’t care if you’ve had a shit childhood. If your idea of entertainment is starving a ‘staffie’, and stealing a chi hua hua from it’s home, and watching the staffie tear it apart, then you are scum. Regardless of what you’ve been through in life.

 

I remember watching the film ‘Eden Lake’ and being so outraged. That film really affected me. It was just a film, but I left the cinema so angry.  The scene with the tyre and that little boy and the lighter.  It just reminded me of the sort of people I’ve read about who do horrible things to children, or animals or the elderly or other vulnerable people.

 

I’ll wrap this up here, because I can just keep reflecting and going off on one.

Aint nobody got time for that sh*t.

So yeah, I was a bitch yesterday after exhausting my patience. I’m not happy about it. But i’ll learn from it. I’ll grow from it. I accept it happened. I’m not perfect, far from it in fact. But it does not make me a bad human and I need to stop beating myself up about it.

 

Stace x