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more little things that bug me: not allowed

(This is apropos of seeing something similar happen not-to-me and remembering that it makes my skin itch.)

There are two ways the situation tends to go.

Something lousy happens, either by me doing something really stupid, doing it accidentally, or sometimes without any doing on my part (getting a bad cold).

I express my unhappiness with the situation. Usually when it's a direct result of my actions, I lead off with "I fucked up, you guys. Oh wow did I fuck up." Sometimes I'm looking for advice. A lot of times I'm just looking for comfort.

When it's something that I did, sometimes the response is "Don't do that, then."

When it's something that's happened to me without anything that I actually contributed to the situation, sometimes the response is "You're not allowed [to get sick, or whatever]!"

Neither of those are practical suggestions that could help me deal with the situation that I am currently in.

"Don't do that" was either advice I could have used beforehand, or was exactly what I was trying to do. If I could have used the warning beforehand, this statement will hurt me. If I knew that I needed to not do that beforehand, this statement will make me even more angry than I already am, not just at myself but now at you too. Either way, it is not comforting, and tells me that the next time I am in distress, you are not a person I should reveal that to.

"You're not allowed" says, to the irrational four-year-old parts of my brain that don't listen to the rest of the Collective, that not only are we miserable, but we are now in trouble for something that is not actually our fault. The irrational miserable parts don't understand it when someone says words that don't agree with what is actually meant. The irrational parts conclude that you cannot tell the difference between things that happened to me and things that I did on purpose, and you will blame me and I will be in trouble. The next time I am in distress that was not of my own making, I cannot trust you to help me without getting me in trouble.

Humans are complicated. This is why I'm not an actual extrovert. It's too much work. I hate humans.

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Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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