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I’m not good with vague, but I am vague.

I’m not good with distant, but I am distant.

I’m not good with inconsistent, but I am inconsistent.

Sometimes I wonder if I resent those things in other people because I know how I became those things, how those things developed, how those things have changed me.

I’ve heard many times that we take the most exception to qualities in people that we possess ourselves, and that we’d have more peaceful relationships overall if we practiced better self-acceptance.

Or, conversely, if we worked on our own negative qualities, we might not take such painful notice of them in others.

I’m not sure.

I just know that, more often than not, I blanch when someone else’s character holds a mirror up to mine and says, “Here! Do you like it? Is this how you meant to be?”

No.

I meant to be more accepting.

I meant to be less addicted to stupid things and coping mechanisms.

I meant to be more faithful.

I meant to be less hard on myself.

Yeah… I note the irony.

I have gone through a pattern the last couple of years of pushing through dark experiences by making fun of myself and how I felt a good portion of the time. Then, when the moment passes, I realize just how terrified I was and how big a scar the experience left.

I often wonder if I’d have less of a scar if I hadn’t been so obsessed with callusing over. I wonder if I’d heal better if I exposed myself to light and air. I wonder if that’s why it drives me nuts when I know someone is struggling and the only thing they’ll do is make jokes or cryptic comments about how they feel.

I want them to open up. But do I?

I learn the best lessons about who I am by watching how I react to others. Hard lessons. Weird lessons. But lessons I need to learn.

I just don’t really like it all the time.

You know?