Words as Weapons

How much of our lives are spent searching for the right words?  How often do we find them?

The tricky thing about words is that we can use them to offer help, convey feelings and desires, and have them completely miss the mark because the target does not hear intent, but hears something tainted by their own perspective.  Perspective, it’ll f**k you every time.  (If you can name that movie, you get a gold star.  The line is slightly altered though.)

There is a song by Seether, part of it goes like this “All I really want is something beautiful to say, Words are weapons I’d be terrified”.

I search for the words, something beautiful, something meaningful, something that will be heard.

Words are weapons…  Words can be weapons.  I always thought that song said words are weapons of the terrified.  It seems more fitting.  People can lash out and use words as weapons when they feel scared or threatened.

I feel like I’m rambling, now I’m editing so it sounds better, as if anyone will ever read this but me.  This felt like something that needed to come out, but maybe its not ready.

I have an ex-girlfriend I’ve been communicating with on Facebook.  Maybe it was a bad idea, there is a reason our relationship didn’t survive.  For me, there was no thought of rekindling any old flames.  I knew that chapter of my life was closed and didn’t need a sequel, but she reached out and seemed to need a friend.  I think I spoke about this a couple entries back.  Well, it has come full circle.

I loaned her money when she first reached out, I did it before she asked me for it, but she was hinting at it.  I felt good about myself for offering it, but the truth is probably more complicated.  I probably allowed her to manipulate me into offering it.  It’s okay,   I’m not name calling, I think that is a real mental health issue she struggles with.  We were addicts together once, and I played a big part in getting that started, but I still believe we all have our agency and we all make choices we have to live with.  That does not absolve me of my participation.  I try to take responsibility for what I have done, but I cannot change the past.

Where was I going with this?  She has since asked me for money on more than one occasion.  Last night she did it by telling me she was broken down and then proceeded to send me a screenshot showing a map of where she was and the balance of her Cash App account.  I explained to her that from my perspective she appeared to be exhibiting a lot of addict behavior and I would help her one more time, but I wouldn’t do it again.  She called me a narcissist, among other things.

I’m leaving a lot out, but it would take a novel to explain how all this coalesced, so for my own purposes (venting) this will suffice.

I’m looking at the description of a narcissist on the mayo clinic website, the first paragraph says this: Narcissistic personality disorder is a mental health condition in which people have an unreasonably high sense of their own importance. They need and seek too much attention and want people to admire them. People with this disorder may lack the ability to understand or care about the feelings of others. But behind this mask of extreme confidence, they are not sure of their self-worth and are easily upset by the slightest criticism.

I certainly fit some of those characteristics.  I do want people to admire me, not because I think I’m important, but because I want people to be inspired the way I am inspired by others.  My path has been long and the road riddled with challenges along the way.  I think it’s important to be kind to others and to help my fellow man (or woman) when the opportunity arises.  For me, the simplest form of this usually involves some form of manual labor: helping someone move, helping to change a tire, fix a car, etc.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m easily upset by criticism, but when you have worked so hard to be a “good man,” an accusation like that can shake your confidence.

At my core I’ve only every wanted to do the “right thing”.  Knowing what the right thing was and getting on board with it, well that is it’s own special challenge.  For once in my life I can feel the direction of the the Holy Spirit in my life and I have a desire to know what the Savior would have me do.

Does she seem like the narcissist in this equation?  I don’t know.  I’m certainly not a mental health expert.  Some of the signs are there.

Words…

I came here to try to get all this out because I know that no matter what I say to her, she will not hear it.  At least, she won’t hear it the way I hear it.

Perspective, it’ll f**k you every time.