A Lame Excuse By Any Other Name, Is Still Lame…

I received an email in my Inbox, specifically to a folder where I am having the emails from my ex redirected to, and it was from several days ago. Having his emails re-routed out of my Inbox is therapeutic, since thinking about him still pisses me off, I see no point in allowing him to be the thing that sends me spinning off into the anger vortex, this way I can see his emails when I’m good and ready–not have them sneak attack me at random times of the day. So back to the email…

His email had some complaint about how I don’t respond to his emails, and had I done so more consistently he would have wished me a happy birthday, to which I replied, the date of my birth never changed, when I would see the email on my end is irrelevant, had you wanted to commemorate the day with an ecard, you would have.

What you are giving me now is your manipulative excuse where you try to place the blame for your inability to follow through with a birthday greeting on me somehow, and then try to avoid apologizing for forgetting my birthday by attempting to prove that you didn’t forget it by pointing out how big a loser you are by giving me a lame-ass excuse for why this email is not only late, but just a thinly veiled intro for what you’re really complaining about which is that you are not #1 in my life (and in this case my Inbox) anymore… Well, whatever crap you’re selling–I’m not buying.

Well I gave him a much shorter and less eloquent version of that, but the sentiment was the same. How lame can one be to use that excuse? Oh, I know! That lame, as pathetic as he is. An excuse is a lie told to make yourself feel better about your obviously flawed decision.

Once my eyes were opened to the truth of his passive-aggressive manipulations* it is easier to spot the moments when he is trying to wield his hokey pocus on me and avoid the pattern where I throw myself into a shame spiral beating myself up because I am not doing enough to “win” his attention/love/approval, etc. Basically a pointless endeavor, can’t bleed a turnip (am I mixing metaphors?).

This is a small win for me, small step forward on the long, long, LONG road to emotional recovery.

*this is a whole other blog post…