What A Hypocrite

You know what? The past couple of weeks, it seems like everyone around me has been on edge. And realizing this, without being sympathetic, I’ve been basically making fun of them, asking things like, “why do you get triggered so easily?” and my dad’s favorite question, “why you mad, bro?”

Asking people those kind of questions when they’re upset is like calling a pregnant woman crazy; I’d ask my sisters or brother why they’re so triggered, and they’d snap, like a bent twig.  I actually kind of found it funny how wanting to know what was up with them would make them so angry—I don’t know why I found a bit of enjoyment out of it, but I did. And that would make them even angrier, even more upset.

Emotions make us human, and I knew that all three of my younger siblings try to avoid feelings. So maybe that was what drove me to push them. Or maybe it was the fact that I was such a miserable person for months on end, and some part of me was dark enough to want to make them feel something similar to how I did. Or maybe antagonizing is just a part of the sibling relationship. Or maybe it was a combination of all of those things.

Well, karma really bit me in the ass, because last night, I had a not-so-cute freak attack.

I’ve been taking Caitlyn back and forth to the high school for cheerleading practice, and when I was picking her up last night, I completely parked outside of the high school, blocking two cars in. I didn’t think anything of it, because that’s what I’d done before, and I never had an issue. I decided to turn the key in the ignition enough to turn the engine off, but keep the music playing. And then I texted Cait to tell her I was waiting. Less than minute later, she said she would be out in two minutes, so I sat and waited in the truck.

Maybe seven minutes later, a woman comes out of the school to get into one of the cars I blocked in. I couldn’t be annoyed with her—because you know, I was That Guy who blocked her in—but I moved frantically, because I’m a slight nutcase, and accidentally pulled the keys out of the ignition. Which wouldn’t have been an issue if I knew what to do next.

Just my luck, right?

I thought, “okay, I’ll just put the keys back in, turn them, and everything will be fine.” And I was very wrong. Panicking, I just kept putting the key back into the ignition, trying to turn it, fail, take it back out, and do the same thing over and over again. Key wouldn’t budge. The steering wheel was locked. No sight of Caitlyn.

Because I didn’t know what else to do, I did the only two things that came to mind, and hoped that they would bring my pounding heart rate down. First, I got out of the car, and told the woman (who thankfully, was understanding, and didn’t want to beat my ass) my situation with the truck, and then, I call my dad (who seems to be the person I call when I have these episodes).

My dad calmly directed me on what to do, and by the time I got everything to work again, the woman was gone. Turned out, I was far enough from her SUV, that she was able to turn out of her space, and leave the parking lot. I was grateful for that.

And after our phone call ended, Caitlyn finally showed up.

During our ride back home, some guy cut me off, and I [slightly] freak out again. (In my defense, it was a close call!) At first, Caitlyn just sat there, silent, and then quietly says, “and you say we get triggered easily”.

Well, damn. I didn’t see that one coming.

Hearing her say that definitely put my mind into perspective. I was still a little high from my episode in the high school parking lot, and I had to focus on steadying my breathing. I didn’t like being the one on the other end of a side comment, so I explained to Cait what happened just a few minutes earlier.

She basically fell asleep in the middle of my explanation, so I shut up, and drove the rest of the way home, with no other sounds than the radio playing.

You know, It’s like we’re all loose cannons: ready to blow up at any time. And it also seems like whenever I do, I make it seem so much worse in my head, than it actually is, right in front of me. I wonder why I do that, and why we all get triggered so easily. Is it because we’re just all constantly on the breaking point? Is it the building up of all the little things that bother us and stress us out?

I don’t want to be a loose cannon; but here I am, throwing F-bombs, like it’s nobody’s business.

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A twenty-two year old who lives through words and her Netflix account. She makes herself laugh more than others, and she claims that she is okay with that.

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