It Hurts Your Knuckles To Throw A Punch

21 Oct

“There were things I wanted to tell him. But I knew they would hurt him. So I buried them, and let them hurt me.”
– Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close [x]

When I say hurtful things, when I stand up for myself, when I do something that should get me in trouble, I get a white hot ball of anxiety in my chest.  That’s probably why I don’t do that stuff very often. It’s very uncomfortable.  Like heartburn for the soul.

A while ago someone very close to me hurt me really badly and I decided to take it out on him.  I remember making the decision.  I knew the anxiety that would ensue but I was hurting so badly that all I wanted was to inflict the same pain on him.  And so I didn’t bury the pain.  I hurled it at him by the bucketful.  I said all the mean hurtful things I had been burying inside myself for years.

And I learned the other good reason why I don’t like to spew such hurtful words.  I thought that getting them out of my body would mean they stopped hurting me but it turns out they hurt on the way out too. And upon landing and in my memory.  Like how Wolverine’s claws hurt him every time they burst through his own skin.

There isn’t really a moral here.  I’m still looking for one.  But I guess the lesson is that if you’re looking for the most injurious thing you can say to someone, maybe you should pause and consider how much it’s really going to help you.

“Respect yourself enough to walk away from anything that no longer serves you, grows you, or makes you happy.”
– (via sageandrosemary) [x]

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