The package arrived around Thanksgiving. Had I been looking out the window at the time of delivery, I’d have seen the mailman straining under the weight of the over-sized box. He’d have had my permission to drop it on the front porch as there was nothing fragile inside. I’d have liked to have heard its loud thump when it hit the wooden planks.
I avoided opening the box for several days. For the first full day, I left the box on the porch – out in the cold.
I knew what was inside from the return address – my own.
On the third day of avoidance, I noticed that someone or something had slit along the packing tape. The contents were leaking out. At first, they leaked with a slow trickle. By day five, I was paddling upstream in a flood.
The box held thoughts – mostly unwanted, uninvited, pesky, often hairy thoughts.
I’m not going to tell you what the thoughts were. You have your own. Besides, typing those crappy things out just gives them the limelight those insidiously narcissistic things crave. They want my attention. They want center-stage.
A couple of them followed me around like Elbert’s Bad Word. They got in the way of making dinner. They sat in my chair. They tried to keep me from getting anything done, and for a little while, I let them.
And when I let them inside, oh! did I get bitchy.
I started stomping around and pacing. I frantically wrote out new lists while crumpling up the old lists. I harrumphed a lot and got irritated with the cat on her 47th attempt at going out in the cold, only to change her mind and stay inside.
I might have even said, “I hate putting up the tree.”
Then one morning, while cruising the internet for inspiration and words of solace, I landed on a guru who said, “It’s all thoughts. Decide which to keep and which to let go.” I rolled my eyes and said to myself, “Yeah. Easy for him to say.” I got up from the chair that wasn’t big enough to hold me and all those thoughts and shuffled into the kitchen to make more coffee.
I thought of how many times I’ve heard or read about the power of thoughts.
How many gurus have told us to let those thoughts go?
I thought more thoughts about thoughts.
I was exhausted from thinking and sick of dealing with all those bad words.
The kids would be up soon. I wanted to start the day without having to step around thoughts or brush bad words off my shoulder.
And so, while still in my leopard print bathrobe, I packed those hairy thoughts back into the box they came in. I applied second and third layers of packing tape. I walked out to the drive and put the box in the dumpster.
I know I will see that damn box again.
Next time I’ll be quicker at getting rid of it.
*I proofread this post to Jen and she said, “I don’t like that box.” I said, “Me, neither.”
Tags: a girl can dream, gentle reminders
Just imagine your neighbors reaction the next time the box shows up on your doorstep and you are outside yelling, “I AM NOT OPENING YOU! NOPE! NOT GOING TO DO IT!” Lol!
And then I’ll kick it across the street to the park where Jenny can practice with her bow and arrow.
Bring it on!
That’s the spirit!
I am so glad that I found your blog. Writing about narcissism and how it has affected me has been a wonderful thing for me…but it feels lonely sometimes. It’s nice to not feel as lonely.
Michelle,
Welcome! ;)
Writing about narcissism has been the best therapy for me.
Plus, I met a pile of other amazing folks who deal with narcissism and now I’m feeling kinda lucky.
I spent some time on your blog last night. This narcissism stuff is a black hole, but the more you write/talk about it, the less crazy you feel. Keep it up!
Glad to see you here, Michelle! We all have to stick together, ya know? Laughter and empathy will get us through…to where, I don’t know, but I know it’s brighter thus far. :)