I went today to meet someone I’d met on my writing course for a cup of coffee, and boy do I wish I hadn’t. Coffee and a nice chat? No Sir. I was treated to a bells-and-whistles-offload of emotional luggage. Wish I had better get-away techniques. Wow. I felt really angry having to sit through this. We know each other on an entirely superficial level only, and yet I was given the in-depth psychological epistles of enough dysfunctional family upset to last me until next Christmas, as if that was in any way fair or appropriate. Fucking hell.
And the thing is, I had some inkling that she was going to be like that.
I occasionally seem to send unconscious invites into the ether for people like her who feel in need of someone to fix things or take some sort of responsibility for their lives for them. I’m still learning not to do that, I grew up with that kind of dynamic. So I should have listened to my intuition and stepped away earlier. But I gave her a chance to prove me wrong, and there I was, sitting through the baggage transfer of the century. Or rather, the attempt of it.
I have no intention of getting involved in trying to fix her life. And due to today’s special effects show, I have no intention of continuing the acquaintance. I haven’t quite figured out yet how to communicate that. Probably with very late replies to emails and texts and then silence. People seem to generally prefer that to straightforward commentary on reasons for distance.
I am in need of a round of self-care after this “chat”. Bit of recovery time.
And something to process the anger of having gotten roped into this in the first place.