I have discovered a character flaw that has reared its head again… although I thought I had vanquished the thing amongst other demons a while ago. Oh, no no no.
Actually I have several character flaws.
Let me show you them.
And no, we aren’t getting into THAT one today.
FNS – Florence Nightingale Syndrome: this lovely little beauty is a 1972 model, has all of its original parts. Can operate on low, medium, high and “Look Out! Look Out! These hands are certified lethal weapons!”
FNS is wildly held on a sliding scale that ranges from endearing to heart wrenching to, “Holy shit, fucking cut it out… I can wipe my OWN ass, for the love of GOD!”
FNS in women is almost the same affliction as Boy Scout Syndrome in men, but comes with added activities such as increased cooking, increased drinking, blow jobs and treating grown ass people like they are the flesh of your loins.
Mama Bear – this one could be self explanatory but you people would be all, “Wait, isn’t that the same thing as FNS?” No, it is definitely not. Mama Bear Affliction is the most common of my character flaws, but add that with my “no filter policy” and you get a raging, rabid Grizzly who is trying to protect her kit and kin as well as make sure everyone’s feelings are not hurt… that everyone is healthy, happy and safe. The Mr. Hyde part of the Grizzly has been known to say shit like, “Jane, you ignorant slut.” When in defense of another one of her “deemed” cubs.
No Filter Policy – (or ALL MOTHERFUCKING CARDS ON THE TABLE Y’ALL!) This is only for the heartiest of friends to handle, as I am one blunt bitch. I do tend to err on the side of diplomacy with my words because words are powerful. If you get all high handed and mighty while you are being ignorant with one of my friends or family … you may just get Mama Bear mixed with a celebrity. Whereas I call you to the carpet for your bullshit then call you “Brother!” a la Hulk Hogan, or “Mama” if you happen to be of the female persuasion. Normally these terms are used as endearments.
It’s all endearing. Shut up, it is.
No Filter Policy has bitten me several times in the ass. If you are willing to dish it out, you gotta take it, right? RIGHT. Regardless of how diplomatically you speak, if the words are true, you must give your audience fair game to reply because everyone’s feelings and opinions are valid. They are THEIR opinions and feelings, you can’t change that. I go total Mama Bear on someone who tries to discredit someone else’s feelings or tell them HOW to feel. (RAWR!)
The Diplomat – I am as bad as Rodney King, “Can’t we all just get along!?” I pull people from all races, creeds, colors, religions, classes, upbringings and economic status together and then wonder why there is drama. I want everyone to get along. “Plays Well With Others*” was always marked “Excellent!” on my elementary school report card. Why can’t other people play well with others too? Oh, that’s right, you “hate her and her stupid ass face”…. Gotcha… would you like a beer?
That brings us around to Not My Problem or NMP. When backed into a corner by drama (which I don’t deal well with at all… and it often leads to breakouts, increased smoking, drinking and ulcers… seriously) I put all cards on the table with a friend or family member and let them know, “I know you are having issues, and I love you. I will support your decision regardless of what it is, but this issue is Not My Problem.”
For instance, my mother has a problem with my weight. Her issue with my weight is Not My Problem. She must accept or let go of her issues with how other people perceive how awful it must be to have a fat daughter. It’s simply Not My Problem. So I told her that I released her of the responsibility that she felt concerning governing my weight and that if she brought up again, I would politely tell her I loved her and hang up the phone. Yeah, it’s worked REALLY well. /sarcasm
NMP is normally associated with the worst of all of my character flaws. When FNS and Mama Bear and No Filter Policy enter the picture sometimes I remember that I am a grown ass woman and I don’t need a codependent relationship, I need friendships and relationships that are mutually beneficial. Say it with me y’all, MUTUALLY BENEFICIAL. Not a Give/ Take relationship or friendship but a Give/Give relationship or friendship. (Let’s take a quick side track and remember that I didn’t really learn about boundaries and it being alright to tell a friend/loved one “no” until I was almost thirty. Slow learner much? Yes. Yes, I am.) When the give/take take take relationship is spotted and acknowledged by my slow ass brain, I am normally already in the throes of drama and indecision because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings (Hi Diplomat!). When NMP and all the other character flaws are lined up in a neat British firing formation the worst of the group is launched…
Not. About. You. – NAY (heh, “Nay means naaaaaaaaaaaay!”) Is a fight or flight syndrome that comes about once every few years. It is not meant to hurt, only to halt behavior from me and from the party I am speaking to. When I am talking to a friend/lover/family member/co-worker, ect… and they take what I say and turn it around to be something about them. I fucking snap. It does take a while to reach this position because I am a Taurus and have a fuse a bajillion miles long. But when it does reach that point, “Look Out! Look Out! These hands are certified lethal weapons!” (See above for comical reference.)
Surely you have a for instance.
Of course I do, and stop calling me Shirley.
Let’s say I have had a rough day…. At work or whatever. And let’s just say for instance that a friend/lover or family member has asked that I do something…. Leave work early (for example) to meet them for … oh, let’s say happy hour. Miscommunication ensues, I am mad about other things other than the miscommunication and someone says, “I can’t believe that your friends would do that to you, I would give my right arm to spend time with you.” A verbal or text (either/or) form of communication will soon follow with something to this effect. “This… Is NOT. ABOUT. YOU.” Followed by their reaction, “I was just trying to be comforting.” And then mine, “Again, this is not ABOUT YOU!” You can warn said person(s) that you are even spoiling for a fight and warn that a call would NOT be in their best interest. But Nooooooooooooooooooooo, a call is issued and my dumb ass answers the phone SCREAMING.
Hi. I am a 38 year old woman with the emotional capacity of a 12 year old feral wolf.
Wanna make out?
*I may play well with others, but I do NOT SHARE WELL WITH OTHERS, MOTHERFUCKER. And we aren’t talking French fries here, Dammit.