Will I ever make it home....: Acerbic

Will I ever make it home....

Friday, September 08, 2006

Acerbic

A definition.

a‧cer‧bic: Show Spelled Pronunciation[uh-sur-bik] Pronunciation Key

–adjective
1.
sour or astringent in taste: Lemon juice is acerbic.
2.
harsh or severe, as of temper or expression: acerbic criticism.

Wow, that stings.

I have been called many things in my short life, but only a few stick with me.

I know my sense of "humor" is quite different and dry.
I know I am not an easy person to get along with.
I used to be nice.
I also used to be a welcome mat for tragedy and sadness.

And in order to stop the oocurence of this, I have put up a defense system inside of me that would rather berate someone than to let them know how mushy I am inside. I know it's not a healthy thing to teach a child, I recognize that. But it is so hard to be a good person and be genuinely sweet, when everyone is just trying to use you or screw you over. RC has called me rude. Others balk at my comments. I am just as scared of rejection as everyone else, so why must I reject everyone in order to stop it from happening to me. I feel like I have created something that I can't necessarily stop anymore. I don't want to be seen as rude or crass. I am a good person inside, but since I have my defenses up so high, not a lot of people realize that I am actually nice and in some instances sweet. I wish I could blame it on my childhood or even on my parents, but I can't. I have unveiled it all on my own. I have learned the hard way how to roll with the punches, and I have also learned that they never stop coming. I hate the fact that people may view me as a bitch, or mean. I am really, neither. I am straightforward and even blunt. But I try to be kind with my words, and I usually fail. I hate that.

I see my son growing up, flourishing. And I regret so many instances where I have lost my head in anger, or have taken out my bad days on him. I have done it to RC, also. I bite my tongue. I hang my head. And everyonce in awhile I let the tears flow. I bleed, I cry, I hurt. I am just like everyone around me. Yet, I am the person that you see as rude, or acerbic. Or just downright mean. I can't even look at my son's face on my desk, because I hurt so much inside thinking that I am actually making him a bad person for not knowing how to make myself better. I don't know how I got here. Or what to do now, that I am at this place of recognition and of acceptance. I know that I am a terribly sarcastic person. I know I have a wagging tongue with daggers that fly out in rapid bursts. I want to not be this way. I want to be adjusted. I want to be an adult.

I am tired of being a mean girl.

And yes, it still stings. Deep inside.

posted by The Devil @ 11:00 AM

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