Words I rarely hear

It took a phone call with a crisis counselor to make me break down even more. A complete stranger said completely kind words to me, likely because she had to given the circumstances and her job, and those words made me feel warmth.

She sat on the phone with me, listened to my struggle and distress. She carefully waited and heard what I had to say. I told her about my ex. Her response was rooted in what she heard and what she knew I needed to hear. She confirmed that I was allowed to still have my ex as a friend. I was allowed to love him. She commented on how I was able to take the relationship and my view of my ex and continue to make it into something positive by maintaining a relationship with him.

Her words stuck, they had immense gravity. But what’s more is that she didn’t stop there. When I was attempting to compose myself she took the opportunity to comment on things she learned about me. She paid me compliments. I hadn’t heard those types of compassionate words in so long.

It hurt knowing a complete stranger had to say those things to me in order for me to feel warmth. I took it for what it was and I let the warmth settle in.

In recent months I think I have made significant changes in my personality and mood. I don’t think people are kind to me. I think most people try to walk all over me and use me. When they sense I’m catching on or when/if I call them on it, they cut me out, say mean things, or act like they are the victim.

People are horrible. Their words cut deep, but their actions cut deeper.

I don’t talk to many people anymore.

My fear is that this blog will suddenly turn into my death journal.

I won’t see it coming.