Shoot a pickle

Been feeling better lately.  I’ve even managed to stay out of the cocoon for the last few days.  Then today I noticed my (trashy) neighbors were holding a yard sale.  No big deal, except I learned they came onto my property and stole some bricks that bordered one of my front flowerbeds to hold up their sign.

We have a long history with these lowlifes. They are incredibly inconsiderate, loud, vulgar, etc. Even the city had to get involved because of all the disruptions these people have caused in the neighborhood.  I was just remarking to my husband the other day how pleasantly surprised I was that they’ve been relatively well behaved the last several months.  Then today they proved they are still scummy to the core.  Why do I mention this?  Because I can feel the mental blanket lowering on my brain.  I get incredibly angry, but instead of going over there and giving them a piece of my mind, I swallow it all, or let it out in bursts in the direction of anyone who causes me even the slightest irritation, like my husband.  By swallowing my anger I invite depression.

I also allow myself to be pigeonholed by what people think of me… even people I can’t stand.  I have no reason to like these people next door.  They’ve shown time and time again that they are rude, thoughtless, self-absorbed and without intelligence.  Yet, when they’ve projected their view of me and my family onto me, part of me accepts their assessment, even though I know it’s not true.  So I go through the arguments against their assessment of me in my head.  I list all the reasons they are wrong.  But since I’m not having this conversation with them, it’s really about convincing myself.

I’ve had just one confrontation with them.  A couple of the tenants were screaming and hollering because we had put a security camera up on the side of our house.  In their paranoid, pothead minds, they thought we were spying on them.  I approached them and, by taking the high road, being mild, and keeping my end of the argument respectful, I was able to diffuse the situation.  We walked away with a better understanding of each other and they’ve since been better behaved.  But they never admitted they were wrong about anything they’d done.  Peace was attained because I took the high road.  But I didn’t sleep for the next two nights, because I kept going over and over the confrontation in my head.  Even though I had done the proper, mature thing, part of me wanted to jump over the fence and beat the sh*t out of them.  To call them on ever city code they’ve violated by playing their obnoxious music at 100 decibels, and parking their cars on the front yard next to my living room window with music blaring, or storing their trashcans outside my kitchen door (and dumping some of their trash in my side yard, hence, the cameras).  I wanted to take a bat to the head of the woman who I’d heard call my child a little bitch.  MY FOUR YEAR OLD DAUGHTER.  What kind of person calls a little girl a bitch?  My child doesn’t know hate, she knows Spongebob.  She doesn’t see skin color, she sees people.  And this woman next door had referred to my child as a bitch.  Then I stood toe to toe with her, and didn’t call her on it.

I’ve had several people tell me I did the right thing, but let me tell you something….I get really, really tired of people getting away with bad behavior and my having to take the high road.  I’m finding more and more often, the high road is leading me to a low mood.

I think I need a kickboxing class.

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