Life As Performance Art 139

We have been having quite a long run on this series, Life As Performance Art, Gentle Reader. This may yet turn into our longest series ever on Content Under Pressure. Perhaps because, the dividing lines between life, performance and art, are indeed very fine and blurry, as they should be. Yesterday, for example, things just happened. Unexpected little surprises, some pleasant, some not so pleasant, but everything packing in it some kind of lesson or small revelation. It is now but 3 am. I slept just under two hours last night, then lay awake for another two hours. I will soon be returning back to bed, where I really should be right now. But this is yet one of many unexpected surprises, small sucker punches that we must learn to roll with. following a few hours at home in the morning, yesterday, spent writing my blog post de jour, having breakfast, doing some art, and then doing some research for future art classes where I work, I went for a long walk to Stanley Park, as kind of a long and pleasant detour before visiting my first client, who is currently in the psychiatric ward of the local public hospital. While walking, I made a point of saying hi to complete random strangers. Most were warm and responsive, only two ignored me, and one looked a little bit surprised and perhaps borderline hostile that an older stranger would give him the time of day (oh, but he should be so lucky!), I smiled at his lack of response and called after him "Have a nice day... Whether you want to or not!" as I was approaching the park I walked passed the humongous and obscenely lavish condo of a very wealthy individual who used to be a close friend. He was puttering on one of his balconies, his back turned to me, as though perhaps by not seeing me he could negate my presence. I thought, then decided, not to say hi to him. He after all ended our friendship, two and a half years ago, and as one who allegedly claims to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, had accused me of triggering him, without really explaining what he meant by that. So, instead of ruining his day and perhaps triggering him by actually greeting him while he was enjoying the safety of his ridiculously opulent home, I decided to leave him alone. I know that I do not miss him, even though we did have some wonderful visits together. He couldn't seem to resist taking nasty potshots at me sometimes, and even though I repeatedly forgave his lack of respect, some things did fester. He is the sort of bully who can dish it out but not take it, like most bullies. When he was ending our friendship, for "triggering" him, I stood up to him and told him that he just couldn't stand the fact that I am the only one of his friends with the cojones to stand up to his nonsense. That was the end. It is also the truth. I am reminded again of the valuable lesson I learned from my ex-friend. seeing how much he abused his privilege and the power that comes with wealth, especially by using his mental health diagnosis as a pass, or a get out of jail free card, I decided then and there that I myself was no longer going to do this. As a survivor of PTSD, I know what it is like being waylaid by triggers and sucker punches, and my life at times in the past was turning into an unhinged psychodrama because of this. So, I made a vow, to God, to myself, and to the universe, that I was no longer going to do this, I would no longer use having PTSD as a pass or an excuse for bad or selfish or irresponsible behaviour. I determined that I would take charge of every single trigger and sucker punch that came my way, and I would refuse to let it control my life, or affect or harm my relationships with others. Unlike my wealthy ex-friend, who relies on paid private counsellors and therapists who will soothe him with whatever horse shit and psychobabble that he wants to hear simply because he is paying them to say things that will make him feel good about himself, without challenging him to strive to be a better human being. So, I have taken charge of my triggers. It hasn't been easy, and I haven't always done well, but on the whole, taking three steps forward ,two backward and five sideways, I have been doing better, and I can honestly say that my life now is in a better place than I have ever been. I simply have to make careful and responsible choices every time a trigger hits me, and employ positive and responsible counter-behaviours in order to correct things. This has made me stronger. And yesterday, I did encounter a few more minor surprises and sucker punches. While visiting my client in the psychiatric ward a very officious and self-important nurse commanded me to check my knapsack at the front desk. Since I was about to leave, anyway, I respectfully declined, and simply left three minutes sooner than I intended. It did bother me for a while afterward, but knowing that I responded in a way that was reasonable and courteous helped me overcome the reverberations. Later, when I arrived home, everything was in a mess and state of chaos because my door was open and there was the building manager in my kitchen, replacing my faucet and tap. He had not warned me he would be coming, and this unexpected surprise could have been for me a trigger. Instead of reacting negatively, I welcomed him, thanked him, mentioned that advance warning would be helpful, but just got on with my work at home while intermittently chatting and becoming better acquainted. I have discovered that he is genuinely nice and kind, and that he has a wicked sense of humour. He also helped me figure out that the second hand CD player I had just brought home from the Sally Anne, was indeed a lemon, so I will have to return it this week, and instead of a cash refund, they will let me buy a shirt or something else I need of equal value. He left, my sink is in much better condition now, but I still felt impacted by this unexpected lack of safety and refuge that I have come to take for granted in my home. But I simply got on with things as usual. I also slept badly, perhaps from vetting the stress and the sucker punches, but after writing this piece, I will have some breakfast then return to bed for a few hours. Easy-Peasy, Gentle Reader.