Skroinch

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Is there any feeling quite as yucky as finding out that someone is mad at you?

Maybe you’re one of those lucky people who really don’t care what others think of them. If you are, I envy you and your fancy schmancy emotional health. As for me, I only tell myself that I don’t care what others think of me when I’m pretty sure that the others in question actually think I’m okey-dokey.

When someone is mad at me, it wrecks my whole day. My stomach skroinches* up in a tense little knot, my head starts to hurt, and I begin mentally rehearsing the conversation I’m going to have with the offended party to clear things up (I play both parts, of course, which means that we always reach a happy solution in less time than it takes a sit-com family to work out who broke the kitchen window with Dad’s autographed Mark Maguire baseball.) This might be helpful if I always followed through with my intention to shine a light on the problem and discuss it as respectful, responsible adults, but, chickenheart that I am, I much prefer hiding under a rock until things blow over.

I usually end up pushing the matter to the furthest, darkest corner of my “to do” list, where it will continue to spring to the forefront of my conscious mind at regular intervals and mess with my serenity:

Ooh, I’m so happy that new apple walnut salad recipe came out just perfect, not too tart and not too sweet, but that doesn’t really matter because somebody is mad at me.

Katie is going to her friend Anna Rose’s birthday party tomorrow and I’m really looking forward to finally meeting her mom, but how could she possibly like me when I’m such a bad person that somebody is mad at me?

Ah, the house is clean and the laundry is all folded and put away so I can sit down at last with my new library book, but I can’t get past the first sentence of the first paragraph on the first page because all I can think about is how somebody is still mad at me!

And so it goes.

As you can probably tell, somebody really is mad at me. And I suppose there’s nothing for it but to do the emotionally healthy thing and call her so we can drag it all out in the open, where we can work through it like mature, psychologically sound human beings.

Maybe in a mud pit. With a referee.

*So what if it isn’t a word? You knew exactly what it meant when you read it, didn’t you?

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11 responses »

  1. I’m really not mad at you, no matter what you said about me in your blog. If you feel left out, I may have a little chicken juice left…

  2. Cute. Is Darci really mad at you? I feel like this all the time. I wish I didn’t care…

    Thanks for visiting my blog. I like your writing style.

  3. Katrina, I hate it when someone is mad at me, but, unlike you, I always drag it out into the open and ‘deal’ with it as quickly as possible so that it’s not looming in the near distance. I can’t stand that feeling! I’d rather scream, yell or cry with the other person until we come to some kind of resolution – either agree to disagree and move on, or see it my way 🙂 At any rate, I hope things work out for you guys! It’s hard to watch a friendship (or acquaintance-ship) hit a rough spot!!! Good luck and happy fighting 🙂

  4. I, too, am one of those people who become consumed with the notion that someone is mad at me, and I tend to blow it out way out of proportion in my “inner conversations.” But, Jennifer is right. Usually when you put it out in the open it is much like yanking a band-aide off. The anticipation and initial pull is the worst. Then, the healing really begins.

  5. Somehow I missed the mud pit reference! That would be a great way to take a relational tragedy and turn it into a money-making machine!

  6. FYI: She never does anything purposely to make people mad at her. She rarely does anything that would make people mad, period. She’s cool like that(yo).

  7. I know EXACTLY what you mean. I usually end up calling my mother and ten of my closest friends to assure me I’m not really a bad person.

    I can’t stand it if someone is mad at me.

  8. I totally understand. In a similar vein – it makes me upset when there’s someone who thinks that I am mad at them. There was this girl with whom I went through a lot of “drama” back in the day — two years later, my friend mentions that this girl was supposed to visit but didn’t want to becuase she “thought Anna hated her.” I literally started crying in the car and it just hurt my heart.

    It’s so frustrating when you realize you just are a sensitive girl and there’s nothing you can do about it.

  9. I’m happy to report that all is well. You can count me among the emotionally healthy (at least for now.)

    Darci–Truce. (I believe that’s the first time I’ve ever fought with a rubber chicken.)

    Lucinda–Thanks! I love yours, too. 🙂

    Jennifer–You’re so right. Simmering is not good unless you’re making soup. 😉

    Bishop–Conflict Resolution Mud Wrestling Matches! I bet we could even get ESPN2 to cover that…

    Sri–Good to know.

    Paul–Thanks for sticking up for me, babe. As long as you still like me, I feel pretty good.

    anon–Yes! Moms are great for that!

    Anna–Good point. Don’t you wish people would just come out and say what they’re thinking so you can clear up misunderstandings? (Oops–I’m getting perilously close to pointing a finger back at myself again…)

  10. For the record…I agree. And I knew the meaning of the word immediately. 🙂

    Aww, Anna Rose was my Mom’s full name (I’m named for her, but in reverse 🙂 I’ve never heard of anyone with that name, so that part of your entry warmed my heart!

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