Thursday, October 16, 2014

A Friend Indeed

For many of you, you know Kindsay is online a lot...I don't need to be in touch with anyone because Kindsay does it for me.  She knows all my relatives, their kids, friends, co-workers, and their parents. When we had our family reunion I was so excited for everyone to actually meet Kindsay since they all knew her, and when the gathering came, she clammed up, acted uninterested, and everyone just faded away to their own groups.  Why?  Nervousness, shyness, anxiety, all of the above.  I tried to explain the best I could while she was sitting there that she wasn't actually being aloof, but was extremely nervous.  In any case, the fun was lost and they all moved on.
So Kindsay wants to know--why doesn't anyone like me?  Why doesn't anyone respond when I text them?  Why do I get unfriended or banned from Facebook?
Sadly, she really doesn't know.  She really doesn't "get it" that when she posts picture after picture of herself, she is setting herself up for ridicule and negativity.  She doesn't understand that adults, especially those of my parents' generation, don't want to chat with her all day.  She doesn't know why her peers from school, usually from the general population, don't text her back.
YES, I've explained myself blue.  Only for her to over-voice me with her overly sensitive reactions to people.
Well...sometimes tables turn, and it is Kindsay who is sought out by a friend.  One particular friend calls her maybe once a week.  She doesn't call often during the week, but when she does pick a day to call Kindsay, she will call non stop until she is given the time of day.  Even worse is that she is calling my phone.  Kindsay, amazing...never ceases to amaze me, tells me she can't talk to this girl because (her words) "I am busy.  I am on the computer, I am listening to music, I am watching my shows, I am shopping on the computer.  I do not have time for this!"  Her hands are on her hips and as she tells me and gets further down her list of what she has better to do, she is rising in excitement to the point of anger and frustration.
"Give her five to ten minutes of your time, that's all I ask," I tell her.  Lips pursed, head shaking back and forth, she tells me the girl is harassing her, she is going to call the cops, and when she moves out, she is not inviting this girl to live with her.  Five minutes...? really?
So I try psychology.
"Don't you feel bad when you try to talk to someone and they ignore you?"
I'm talking to a wall.
Kindsay fires back, "And do you know how that makes me feel?  Bad!"
Okay, I say, now you are doing it to this girl.  She just wants a friend the same way you do.
"I am getting tired of this!  I do not want her to move out with me in my own place.  I do not want her calling me.  You know what? I'm going to call her mother and tell on her!  Now, I need your computer!"
I shook my head...I'm not giving you anything until you give your friend five to ten minutes.  "Fine!" She by now is up for an Oscar.  "But you know what?  I'm going to tell her she needs to stop harassing me! I will talk to her when I want to talk, but not now--I'm busy!  And I'm sick of people ignoring me!  Now she is calling calling calling.  So you know what?  We're just going to have to see how it goes in the past!"
That is not a typo...she wants to see how things the past.  I didn't even approach that--by now just too tired.  My head feels like Exorcism trying to understand her logic.  Her reasoning is like a big ring of fire, going in a circle fueled by the heat coming off her head in her imagined fury at the gall someone has to seek her attention.  Soon she is in her room, furious at my nerve.  I can hear her talking to herself, going over and over how this is not okay.  She calls the poor girl and has ten minutes of laughter and fun.  hm.
Kindsay suddenly bursts into my room.  "OK you know what?  I told her she couldn't move out with me.  But then we started laughing and I liked talking to her so I told her sorry for what I said, I will think about letting her move out with me!"  She tells me this as-a-matter-of-fact, and what did I, her mother, know about anything...these are her revelations and none of my doing.  The time she took to tell me what she thinks, rattling off nonsense, she could've been on the computer having a go at contacting people who probably feel harassed by her.  And you know what?  You know how that makes her feel?  BAD!
Kindsay's reality?  There's only one side of the table--hers.

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