I really am a masochist.
Either that or I have a troubling short term memory loss. Since it appears that when faced with a dilemma I seem to gravitate for help to the same people despite the predictable negative outcome.
I had a small problem with my car over the weekend. I began to turn the ignition but only the radio seemed to jump into action; nothing more. I tried several times before I let panic wash over and take control of me. Then I did what most mechanic-allergic girls do in this kind of situation. I reached for the closest male and since I’m still a single gal my father was on top of that list.
Unfortunately my mother answered his cell.
Being indisposed and not wanting to disclose the terrifying emergency at hand to her I decided to wait for him to call me back. So I proceeded to pace repeatedly in circles until dizzy with unrest then went back to my car to try once more.
As if the past five minutes had never even transpired, simply concocted by my overactive imagination.
But the relief and celebration was short lived once my father called back and I explained the false alarm. And true to form, rather than reveling in my happiness that my car was working I was met with the usual insults and blame game. My unworthiness and failure at life, lack of funds and irresponsibility. Then my mother called back wanting to know what was wrong. And stupidly I told, somewhat expecting a fellow female comrade to relate and frolic in my joy but honestly what was I thinking?! A repeat performance of the failures of me as a human being taking up too much space on this poor planet ensued.
It’s always the same song and dance with them. As if my seeking assistance is the biggest inconvenience. So I need to make myself a permanent mental note, a tattoo of sorts to remind myself of what not to do. How not to overreact, panic and make straight for the phone.
Who not to call.
Take a breath and calm myself down, seek help from someone who is happy to give it and just know that it will pass.