Rancid Stench of Weakness
Today I have observed, hardly for the first time, that I find weakness generally repugnant.
I do not mean vulnerability… You have to be open to the pain to experience the pleasure, otherwise you may as well lie down and wait for the formalities; you’re already dead.
I do not mean physical weakness or similar issues of impossibility… If you can’t, you can’t, and nothing changes that, though you NEVER know unless you try, Kettle.
I mean fragility, of sorts. The crumbling-psyche, self-justifying, just-shy-of-crying ANYTHING BUT THAT sort of idiot weakness where an individual otherwise sane and appearing both rational and intelligent begins to twitch about and do or say things “out of character” with very good reasons (so far as they are concerned) as to why they are betraying themselves.
The root is fear, as fear is the root of all evil (nope; it’s not money). Usually a ridiculous response to fear of being alone.
I’m not saying I’ve never been guilty of it, or couldn’t be guilty of it.
I’m just saying it stinks.
Consistency is the foundation for respect and trust, cornerstones of any relationship. If you set up certain expectations among those with whom you have “relationships", and then you immediately toss those overboard when The Big Loneliness seems imminent, I think you end up causing yourself an even greater loss (self-dignity, other relationships, et cetera).
You come off as wishy-washy. Weak. Unpredictable.
How to believe your words? How to trust your actions?
How to know who the hell you are anymore?