The Dude Is Rude

Rude:  Bad-mannered.

I went to my regular Wednesday evening meeting yesterday.  Attendance was a little light, befitting the night before a major holiday.  The young woman who led the meeting was very newly sober so she simply told a little bit of her story.  I was feeling a little thick in my head - not bad thick, just Quaalude thick - and not that I had taken one or more Quaaludes, rather that I'm trying to convey the sensation of being sluggish mentally, which Quaaludes most certainly accomplished  - so I didn't have too much to share.  Plus, I do think the pain of getting sober is fresher for the newer members, making them more sympathetic to the raw emotions of sobering up.  This allowed me to listen instead of preparing my amazing, funny, profound, wise, kind, insightful remarks for public consumption, an activity that takes up most of my available brain power and does not permit me to hear anything anyone else is saying.

It was a nice meeting.  We're funny.  We're kooky.  I don't know how most of us manage to exist in the adult world based on the anecdotes I heard last night.  I loved 'em all.

SuperK spent a lot of years trying to connect with her pretty dysfunctional family.  I thought she was pissing into the wind, so to speak, nevertheless lauding her efforts.  Those of us in recovery, trying to follow a spiritual path, have a responsibility to be the bigger person: "Seek to understand, rather than to be understood."  She spent many frustrating years trying to be the bigger person, never getting anywhere, an obvious result to me as a disinterested observer, until she finally did some good recovery work that has allowed her to step back and let the crazy people alone.

My family - while not as quite as crazy - has most definitely written me out of the daily ebb and flow of their lives.  I think I'm mostly OK with this but, like SuperK, feel an obligation to be the bigger person and make an effort to stay in touch with them.  SuperK, disinterested with my family, has no doubt been rolling her eyes at me.  I sent my sister - with whom I have a distant relationship - a couple of text messages and also actually rang her up.  She has responded to neither, not surprisingly.  

I told SuperK.

"Well, she's a dick," she said, and I'm quoting directly here.

My sister doesn't work and her kids are at school so she has the time for a 5 minute phone call or to tap out a short reply.  I can be understanding, be the bigger person, but rude is rude.  Then again, who's making the calls, sending the texts?  If I keep touching a hot pot does it make sense to blame the pot for my burns?

I don't think so.