Stop Bullshitting

You know what I loathe?

Gray areas. Limbo. Maybe/Maybe not’s. Purgatory.

Nothing feels quite like I imagine those bugs in The Mummy do when they burrow underneath your skin than being subjected to the same conversation about the same situation over and over again. I may look calm on the outside, but I promise you inside I am seething.

So for my first post of 2017, my advice to you all is to Stop Bullshitting.

If you are reading my site, I assume you are over the age of 30. Thus, the time for engaging in extended durations of Double Dutch has long passed. Doing the same thing over and over again with no progress and ceasing only when you trip over the rope and probably fall on your face? We’re too old for that shit.

The latter end of 2015 was the most humbling experience in my life. And when I started piecing my life back together, I arrived at this fork where I could re-travel the same route I’d traveled to end up at this spot or I could choose a new route altogether. I chose a new damn route. It was not an easy decision. I walked away from my secure comfort zone and everything I knew and I’m still self-correcting. But I made the damn decision and I stuck to it. Because bullshitting wastes no one’s time but my own. Had I chosen to stop bullshitting before my life tripped me with own rope, I might be the one being sworn in as your President in three weeks.

About a month ago, I realized that I just could not quiet my mind. I was stressed and edgy. Every time my phone made a sound, I hesitated to pick it up because I knew it would make the stress worse. You may think I was dodging bill collectors? Nah. My life was fine. There was nothing particularly stressful about it. What was stressing me was other people’s lives that they continued, day after day, text after text, lie after lie, to place at my mind’s doorstep. I have an empathetic personality. If someone is stressed, then I am stressed. If a friend is going through something, then so am I. I cannot be happy if someone I care about is unhappy. It doesn’t even have to be someone I know. I saw an old woman pushing a puppy in a stroller down the highway last night, and my mood immediately changed and my brain tried to think of ways to fix her life.

This unfortunate trait of mine leads me to attempt to fix any situation that is stressing the person who is stressing me. Truly, I want to help them find peace because selfishly, the sooner they are at peace, the sooner I am. That’s where the bullshit arose. They didn’t want my help. They wanted my ear, my time, and my attention just so that I may endure more of their bullshit. So I placed myself out of their reach. I utilized either the block or mute notifications on my phone. I went places alone (movies, dinner, shopping). I even checked myself into a hotel room for a couple of nights, ordered delivery, and caught up on my TV. I believe in a lot of things: God, chocolate, shoe departments, and self-care.

Because as empathetic as I may be, I am not sympathetic. I will not allow you to drag me into your bullshit so that I may be miserable with you. I will fight alongside you, maybe even harder than you, as long as you are. But if you are choosing just to sit on the dock of the bay and waste time, text Otis Redding and delete my number.

Because we are old. We are adults. We pay our own bills and schedule our own doctor appointments. IF 2016 taught us nothing, it definitely showed that any individual could not be here tomorrow. Since you know your time is temporary and not guaranteed, why waste these days living a life you do not want to live? This constant complaining and whining and crying gets you nowhere.

This hoping a particular someone recognizes your worth and responds like you deserve? Bullshit.

This lying to one person about fucking another only to lie to the one you fucked so that you may fuck the one you originally lied to? Bullshit.

This spending your days on social media lurking and critiquing how others are living their lives? Bullshit.

This fronting for social media pretending to live a life you are not? Bullshit.

This blaming any and everyone else for the predicament you are in and doing nothing to change it? Bullshit.

Allowing men between your thighs who have never and will never consider offering you their last name? Bullshit.

Be a fucking adult in 2017. Being an adult does not entail your life being perfect. It does not mean you won’t fuck up. I received a call from my younger sister just this morning letting me know I fucked up recently. Adulting does not mean your life has to resemble or anyone’s who you may believe is living a perfect one. Trust me. They are not. It does mean, however, you are not doing the same bullshit you did when you were on the yard. It does mean when you see those retirement commercials on TV, it inspires you to prepare so such a day may arrive for you. Being an adult means you recognize your actions have consequences and impacts lives other than just your own and you give an actual damn that it does. See people for who they are and treat them accordingly. Be who you pretend to be on social media and people will respond accordingly. Shut up and adult the fuck up this year.

2016 was an incredible year for me. I found a freedom in me that I was always too scared to discover. I’m heading in one direction, and that is higher. And I want you all with me. And if you want me in your life in 2017, you must meet me at the level I am or exist on a level I am aspiring to reach. Because bullshit ain’t nothing but dried grass and river water, and I dine on scallops and champagne.

Today’s Soundtrack: George Michael – Freedom ’90  (Today, the way I play the game is not the same. No way. Think I’m gonna get myself happy.)


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