“If I didn’t see it happen in front of me, I wouldn’t believe it. Goddamn.”
That is what my witness said to me after it happened. I have proof. Finally I have a witness I have proof.
The place where I work was packed, busy even for a Saturday. My boss asked me to do something as I was sitting at the computer doing other things so I added it to the list of my tasks. One by one I got through most of them when my boss asked me if I had gotten to her thing. I replied “nope! Not yet! Haven’t had a chance I’ll do it right now.” And got right to it.
This woman. This fucking woman.
This fucking woman appears in front of me with her two children akimbo. I had helped the older one once upon a time, been very patient with her as she overcame a very difficult thing. Gently and successfully, much to her sullen, preteen resistance I might add.
This fucking woman.
This fucking woman says to me.
“Watch your mouth around my children.”
My head shoots up, eyes wide. “Excuse me?” Having zero understanding of what she’s talking about since I have said absolutely nothing since responding to my boss.
This woman. This fucking woman.
This fucking woman says
“You were about to say Jesus fucking Christ in front of my kids.”
And I looked at her.
And my witness looked at her.
She said it in front of her kids.
“I absolutely did not say that.”
This fucking woman said Jesus fucking Christ in front of her kids.
This fucking woman.
This fucking woman says:
“I am the queen of cursing and you were about to say it I know what you were going to say.”
I KNOW WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY.
“I absolutely did not say that.”
My witness, shaking their head, shocked. My jaw just about hitting the floor.
The queen of cursing, you say.
The Queen.
This fucking woman thinks that I would respond out loud to a question posed by my boss with the answer
Jesus fucking christ.
This fucking woman thinks that I would respond in front of children
Jesus fucking Christ.
In front of her children. Jesus fucking Christ.
You want to know what was in my head? You think that banal bullshit was what I was thinking at the moment?
You have the audacity to think you could imagine what it’s like inside my head?
The things that I think, the things that exist inside my head would terrify you to a point where you would never, ever, ever say another thing again.
You really think you’re the queen of cursing.
You want to go head to head with me?
I guarantee you will not survive. I will make you rethink your entire existence.
I will make you question your reason for living; I will make you question whether or not you deserve to breathe on this Earth.
I will tell you things about yourself that you know to be true deep down in the deepest fucking recesses of your soul.
I will share with you the reasons your daughter hates you so much (it’s because she looks like you), you narrow-eyed cunt.
Every time she looks in the mirror she sees your face even though her cheeks are full and they’re going to be full for the rest of her life and you are going to shame her for her fat face. Every time she sees you look at her she sees your disgust, feels your disappointment. If you aren’t already saving for her therapy, you should do so immediately.
You ought to just give up on your son because he is going to be in codependent relationships for the rest of his life. He is completely neglected and wishes for a second that he would get some of the attention you give your daughter even though it’s all negative. Honestly it would be better for all involved if you let him go live with relatives. Literally anyone else would take better care of him. You simply don’t give a shit.
You take your anger out on me because you couldn’t help your child. You know that you absolutely do not have the patience to help your own child where I did.
Your daughter hates you so much because you’ve made your husband miserable and he doesn’t fuck you and is most likely fucking your friends. A quick look on dating apps would find him in a second.
You think you’re the queen of cursing? Come at me bitch. I’ve got you I’ve got your fucking number. I haven’t even gotten started with you.
Jesus fucking christ. You think I was thinking Jesus fucking christ? No I wasn’t. My only thought at that moment was how to get to the end of the day without killing myself.
It’s going to get a whole lot worse from here.
Tag: imposter syndrome
yesterday. 30 july 2022
I have all of this proof
Physical proof of how good I am, how talented, how good, how kind.
I have emotional proof.
People say lovely things, in front of other people.
About me they say these things. Lovely things in front of other people.
It can be an entire day of people saying lovely wonderful things about me, showing how much they appreciate what I have to offer.
And all it takes is one motherfucker to bring it down.
I was already in trouble when I woke up yesterday morning.
My only goal was to get home to Mojo.
To keep that in my head to get home to him, to make sure that he was eating, that he was feeling okay.
My only goal, my far point was Mojo.
I talked to myself all through my shower to make sure that I brushed my teeth.
I brushed my teeth.
I was still not okay when I got out of the shower. I was not okay when I got dressed.
The entire drive. Not okay.
Knowing my far point.
Got where I was going. Shared that I was not okay. Shared enough fast enough to be as clear as possible.
Eyes bright and wide.
On.
I know that when I am like this
(you know how you get)
I know that when I am like this I have to protect myself at all costs because to not do so would be dangerous for everyone.
The day went. Carefully.
Shared my work to delight, to lesser delight.
To what seemed cursory, perfunctory, obligatory.
Unreal. Inauthentic.
I want people who love, truly.
I don’t want someone uncaring, not in any part of my life.
Other skills, gushed over. Lauded. Delighted in.
Shared.
shared out loud.
All day all day I had teetered on the edge, this rollercoaster poised and threatening at the very top.
LOUD VOICES CLOSE
CLOSELY
loud and close and disharmonious and unyielding
eyes slitted, accusing
Voices louder.
No.
I can’t be, there.
I excuse myself away, not far enough but out of sight
but not out of tension’s grasp.
The only thing I have left to help is disassociation because I cannot physically get far enough away.
So I go away.
Eyes burning into the computer screen
totally focused on the pen in my hand
and the rage behind it
summoning internal music to fill my skull loudly
drown out the screeching noises outside and in.
I share. Bits of what’s happening.
To exorcise it. Flush it out.
My face is a mask, deadened expression, eyes down. I comply when needed.
The only thing I can remember now is this:
“I know you get anxious when it’s loud and there’s a lot going on and and and but you can’t let that SHOW. They said you’re always angry.”
i cannot anymore.
I cannot.
I am not okay.
!
Remain relevant, and ready.
Always remain value-added.
I want the chance to be relevant to you.
I have shown you that I am ready, how ready.
And that last, yes. Value-added plus.
worrying, though
about the ratio.
i stay quiet.
not still, but silently humming
thrumming
focusing
focusing on the exclamation mark.
!
how many you use, and when.
and when.
the rain comes again
again i am in the car, windows cracked
i don’t particularly need the music to actually hear it
but I play it anyway
wondering if it’s raining where you are,
six hours ahead
your sky just as dark as mine, darker.
wanting to know what made you think of me
when ‽
you do think of me.
I want the chance to make you smile at me.
that glorious, sweet face.
I want the chance to spend time with you,
to know more of you.
I want the chance to mean something to you.
!!!!
i know what i am worth
i know what I am worth
(do i?
do i really, though?)
I know what people tell me
how people react to me
how they are with me.
I know that I can become single-minded
super focused
only to have my attention s c a t t e r
scatter.
I look up from my work sometimes
(art
writing
a lover)
I take a metaphorical step back to view the tableau
refocus my attention to the ambient sounds of the room,
i become subsumed by the overall pleasure of a job
well
done.
knowing my value comes in being indispensable.
indispensable.
Knowing (knowing)
knowing that in order to pay my way I must be
indispensable,
spectacular.
galaxy class.
In my worst moments
in moments like now
it is in my worst moments that I can see the balance sheet
Knowing
(knowing)
at the least sign of perceived imbalance I will be let go
Not worth the hassle.
That when I am feeling most stable
When I really do believe what I say over and over about being a badass.
a rising Phoenix.
That the love and caretaking I am worthy of is mine to take and is plentiful if I only believe
That I am not too much.
That I am not too intense.
that i can command, demand, and not settle.
I have nothing to hide anymore
Anyone who cares, I have nothing to hide.
find me. please.
The Salty Widow 