Cup Runneth Over

I know how excited you all are to dip into my head and see the inner workings. (I just rolled my eyes.) Anyways, here we go...

Yesterday, I snapped at my brother.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not proud of it. I'm not sitting here wearing my, "I fought my brother and I won" t-shirt. After all, I'm a bit too old to be fighting with my siblings. Once you pass the age of seventeen it just seems sad and pathetic. But still, I threw out a "Would you just shut the fuck up Jack?"

Even as I said it, I knew I was the one out of line. You know how when things are piling up in your life and you think you're handling them well, but then you snap. Well, this was one of those moments. It sort of took me by surprise.

There we were, sitting around the table, laughing, joking, blah blah blahing, and then just *snap*. I imagine it was sort of like when the Hulk gets mad. Except instead of turning green and getting really big, I got a snotty look on my face and added a lot of disdain to my voice. I can be snarky at times. I know this is shocking for you all to hear. (I tease, I kid, I joke)

To be honest, Jack was only being Jack. And in all fairness, even though he was needling and being annoying, he had no clue as to what's been going on in my day-to-day life. He's sort of like a clueless ape. Even the things he does know, Grandma being in the hospital, eight hundred dollars spent on car repairs and the intense stomach pains I've been having, weren't enough for him to just let up. He's sort of one of those guys who has troubles identifying, socializing and simply being around other people.

I did apologize.

That's the thing about me. I do recognize when I am in the wrong and will offer up an apology. Unfortunately, years of being a dysfunctional family has prevented some of us from developing the unique ability to actually accept an apology. Some of us, not pointing fingers, have troubles moving past the moment and will opt to cling to it for the rest of eternity. Some of us won't drop it, will save it up for a future fight and then throw it out in true sibling fashion, "Yeah, well, you snapped at me at the lunch table in 2011..."

So, instead of accepting it. He said a few hissy-fit things under his breath until I got remad. Remad is the stage after you've been mad and calmed down a bit, but then something stokes the flames of rage again. And of course I handled it the mature way by saying, "What the hell? I said I was sorry. Do you want me to apologize again?"

Yeah, we don't have these family gatherings too often. I'm sure my mom was thrilled to have all her kids together for a nice meal out. We are a charming brood.

It's my fault. I know. But sometimes the cup of emotion runneth over and you have to let it out, just so you have some room to fill it back up again. I often joke that I let myself cry twice a year, and that really isn't too far off the truth. However, lately, it seems as though the tear-Gods are working against me. Maybe that's what I need, to just sit and have a good cry. Perhaps some covers to burrow under too.

Would you like to come to my pity party?

Life. I can handle it when it delivers things slowly. Somehow I missed the memo warning me that things were going to fall apart in the last two months. I really wish I had of got that memo. Then I could have ran away from home.

What? Is running away not a responsible adult thing to do?

Oh, right.

Well, the warning would have been nice.

So, I snapped at my brother. It took me right back to being sixteen. Except instead of having my whole life waiting for me, I'm smack dab in the eye of the storm. Ah, the storm of life. So unpredictable.

When I was young, I thought, "When I grow up, I'll be so happy because I can do whatever I want." It's funny how when you grow up you realize you had more freedom when you were a kid. Don't worry, I still have my amazing sense of humour and flawless skin. ;)