Anxiety/Depression, Poetry

The Grumpy one

Approximate reading time: 6 min

Written the 20th April 2021

I want to write about something

 That triggers me so

 It’s been a long time coming

(so finally here I go)

My TA, Mrs Shawnigan

Has been at the school for years

I’m 100% certain

she genuinely cares

She is good at her job

 she works incredibly hard

although our teaching styles

are so differently charged

She is authoritarian, like my mum

“Respect must be learnt!”

I’m the generation that believes

respect needs to be earned

I know in my heart

kids don’t need to be afraid

simply to get them

to learn how to behave

That said we work together

surprisingly well in class

Despite our styles being

so completely contrast

But the one thing that triggers

me continually about her

the manner she greets me

(and what I make it infer)

I’ll walk in the morning

say hello with a smile

 I get a grunt of recognition

A “hello” that feels hostile

Now that would be OK

if she was like that with everyone

but apparently not

(I’m just the lucky one)

She shouts greetings of joy

 down the passage, so it seems

to every Tom, Dick and Harry

 that just isn’t me!

Her sullen manner and grumpiness

are so hard for me to take

I wish I wasn’t sensitive

and could simply shake

This feeling that it’s pretty obvious

“She doesn’t like me”

(For a recovering people pleaser

it’s a bitter cup of tea)

But then all of a sudden

she will

initiate a chat

She’s been sweet to me

Oooooh fancy that!

Internal sigh of relief

Deep down in my soul

“See she DOES like you”

My inner voices console

But then just as quick

 it’ll ALL go away

I’m stuck with Miss Grumpy

 for the rest of the day

Honestly, it’s like playing

on a people-pleasing-conveyer belt

Jumping on and off it

OH my God

I need help!

It’s almost laughable

 if only it didn’t make me want to cry

Why don’t you like me?

I don’t understand why?

I just want to live in a world

Where everyone is friends

(Sigh. does my internal neediness

know no end?)

Of course, I realise

it reminds me of being a child

 so, wishing I had a mum

that would come home with a smile

She always seemed so stressed

and angry at home

which in hindsight left me feeling

hurt and alone

Now I find my inner child

reliving this pain every day

Wishing she had the courage

to speak up and say

Why are you never happy

just to see me?

Do you have any idea how

hurtful this can be?

*********

“The role of parental joy”

and how it builds self-esteem

was first modelled for me

 in therapy

When I witnessed the joy

that was consistently shared

My therapist contained all my happiness

He seemed to really care…

about my progress

my achievements

 things I had done well

The joy on my therapist’s face

was more moving than I can tell

The stereotypical portrayal

of a therapist being a blank screen

Is so far away from the elation

He’s always shown me

It’s funny how understanding this

had such a profound effect 

On how I work with children

 and how I connect

I do my best to remember

 every single day

The importance of joy

and the role that it plays

*********

My last couple of years

that I spent with my mum

I am so grateful that she also

learnt how this was done

I have such loving memories

 of her flinging open the front door

With a smile on her face

 I genuinely felt adored

So happy to see me

 her beautiful child

she’d always hug me

for the longest of whiles

And those last 3 months

as the tumour ravaged her brain

as it stole her speech and her movement 

all that remained

Was the joy in her eyes

Her recognition to see me

It was the most beautiful gift

I have EVER received

So, it’s funny how even

after all of these years

old triggers come back up

and quietly re-emerge

So now, I’m not sure

what to do about the grumpy one

Perhaps recognising the trigger

 will discharge the gun?

I’ll keep breathing and remind

myself every single day

You are not that little girl

 Let it go

Walk away

Simply acknowledge the hurt feelings

but also realise

Your value and your worth

are not found in others’ eyes

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