I'm Dizzy and I Wanna Get Off this Ride

zara's picture

Back in August, we took Liv to Six Flags Magic Mountain for the first time. It was something that I had been trying to put off, ignoring her ever increasing hints that her friends all got to go there on a regular basis. The place is nothing but roller coasters and most of them have height requirements that she didn't meet up until very recently. But as a reward for yet another stellar year of grades, perfect attendance and good behaviour, we took her there at the end of the summer.

I hadn't been there in nearly a decade. I think I went once right around the time that she was a year old and spent most of the day missing her and feeling way too old to withstand the force of most of the rides. I'd forgotten the little spiel that they have the ride operators repeat on some of the spinning rides, warning that if you feel sick you should place one hand up in the air and one hand over your mouth to bring the ride to a stop.

I feel that way about my life these days. *Hand raised* *Hand over mouth* Can this all stop spinning now?

I have an inquisitive mind. I loved playing games like Clue when I was a kid because I got to take minimal information and begin to build theories, test them out, figure out if they were true. I'm an impatient person when dealing with the mysteries of real life. You tell me only the small bits of factual information that you want me to know and I'm going to start trying to fill in the blank spots in between.

People will ask me things like "Does it really matter when/how it happened? Isn't it just bad enough that it did?"

Well, sure. It's bad that it happened at all in the first place. But I'm going to think the absolute worst if you don't tell me at least a little bit of the why and the how that it happened. At the end of the story, at the end of the day, at the end of a lifetime, those facts will mean next to nothing to me. But in the present, they operate as an anti-anxiety pill. Feeling truly educated and in the know will chill me out.

I might be good at playing board games, those with a strict set of rules, but when it comes to the game of life (the one without the plastic pink & blue pegs in little plastic station wagons), I suck. I don't have a lot of patience to wait for my turn. I want to hurry up and get to the end and count up the money and the stock and figure out who wins. I have a really hard time processing that real life isn't anything like a structured board game. The one with the most money at the end doesn't necessarily get to be the winner. Sometimes, no one gets to be the winner. While at the same time, there might end up being a slew of losers.

Every day of my life has been akin to playing a round of Clue. I would get to the next day, the next room, and I'd want to take a stab. "Was it Miss Scarlett with the pipe in the garage?" I didn't bide my time and wait for more information and make a valid conclusion. I just kept guessing. I kept assuming. And just like when you're playing the game, there's that big sensation of believing you're wrong, even when you think you might be right.

I don't want to play life like a game. I don't want to question because of fear but because of genuine concern, curiosity and a desire to learn.

And I don't want to be put to secret tests by those people who accuse me of presupposing answers who themselves have predetermined what the outcome of their little test will be.

It's hypocrisy.

I am working on giving out what I want to get in return. I am trying to find understanding and forgiveness for these hypocritical actions, defensive outbursts and combative conversations when I know I have been guilty of the same for so long. Because I wanted people to show me consideration and patience. The only way I get it is if I give it. Yes, I'm an old dog trying to learn new tricks. And while getting older doesn't automatically mean that you get wiser, it doesn't have to mean that you get stupider either.

I know what I've done in my life that has been unacceptable. Not just unacceptable to others but also to myself. I have too many things that I've done and said that I am embarrassed of. But I am the only person who was going to get that through to myself. I am the one who had to figure that out for myself in order to really understand it and put the effort into repairing the damage.

So as much as I want to bludgeon the others in my life who have wronged me (and by proxy themselves and other innocents), they've got to figure it out on their own that they were being dipshits and take the measures needed to make amends. They need to do the right things because they've decided that it's the right thing to do and follow through on it. Because it will only truly matter if the decision to do so comes from themselves.

Oh, and Les? I expect nothing from anyone other than myself right now. I hope for certain things, but I expect nothing.


lrk1977's picture


I’ve been wrestling with what to say, how to say it . . .wondering how my own words could be twisted and used against me. . . . I’m not nearly as talented with the written word, Z. That’s not my gift, it’s your’s. I am glad to see you flexing that muscle again. It’s been a long time.

I have not received anything from you – no word how you or Midget were doing, what sports or extracurricular stuff she was in that year, what struggles as a parent you were dealing with . . . nothing. Just a couple of blocks lifted, an email notification, and . . . .HERE YOU ARE! What is it you want to say to me? Can you not send me an email? Or is the “shallow end” undeserving of such etiquette?

In my comment, I asked you want you “wanted” not what you “expected.” You know me, Z. I just want the bottom line. I don’t want to play "ring around the verbose rosy" to get at the heart. In these posts, I don't get it. What's your point?

I don’t have the time, energy or heart to play these games.

You called me out publicly rather than send an email or two. Is that a righteous act? Or is airing our history what you want? I won’t do that publicly; you and I share too many friends and it is unfair to them, for us to do so.

Again, I ask YOU, ZARA, what do YOU “WANT”? I am not asking about expectations. I want the bottom line. If you cannot afford me that “trust” or courtesy, I see no reason to continue a discussion. For my heart and my family’s heart, I cannot allow just anyone access – that lesson, old friend, I learned from you.

"That's the kind of friend I am. You will always have me as long as you will have me and tell me to go away. You could actually walk all over me if you wanted to. :D I love you," ~ Z . . . . Surprise, surprise! . ! . ! . . .within 6 months after this email, you cut me (and my family) out of your life. . .

Welcome to the “shallow end" . . . got your floaty on? . . .

I am not as eloquent or as masterful with words as you are, but I am honest and what you see is what you get with me. If I didn't care, I wouldn't have commented or tried to make a point. If that part of me can't be heard or appreciated, you don't owe me anything and I could care less about your expectations.

You have my email.


It's too bad

That you can only decide for you.

RoQStar's picture

After the damage is done..

"And I don't want to be put to secret tests by those people who accuse me of presupposing answers who themselves have predetermined what the outcome of their little test will be.
It's hypocrisy."

Aren't we all? I wonder, some days, if we all aren't. Oh, Life..

~RoQkin' out wit ma C*Qk out! Watch, your eye...

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