My “friend,” I am annoyed. (Personal rant)

This has nothing to do with triathlons or training or even workouts. This is all about me and my personal feelings. A rant to a “friend” if you will. A rant that is affecting my desire to go lap out 2500 yards of drills. ARGH!

I’m annoyed. I have that lead-ball-in-the-pit-of-my-stomach feel. Why is it that we consider some people friends when all they do is make you doubt your choices and feel bad about yourself after you talk with them or spend time with them? What kind of friendship is that, anyway? What kind of spineless twit am I to put up with that kind of interaction? And why am I beating myself up over it? Argh. I’m annoyed.

See, there’s been a lot going on in my life as of late. A cross-country move, for starters. A 6-year marriage that’s been, well, as smooth as the Rocky Mountains. Then there’s a lot of familial pressure to become “something fantastic” without becoming too prideful. Argh. I’m annoyed.

Okay. I wanna’ talk about my “friend” who makes me feel like sh!t. The relationship was an unlikely one from the start, but was centered over cycling and discussions of relationships. As people, he and I are a lot alike. Inside, we’re both opinionated, stubborn, prideful, persistent, ambitous, and suffer issues with control and success. That said, outside we’re both gregarious, friendly, adventurous, passionate, and often very thoughtful of others (we like to help/see other people be happy).

Now, I’m not going to deny it: I have problems with people similar to me. Jenn and I didn’t get along at first. Jon and I didn’t get along at first, either. Now, both of these honeys are among my closest of friends. Like similar polarity magnets, the trick is figuring out how to get them to co-exist (levitation works well, ha, ha!). Seriously, why is this one friend being so much more difficult to integrate with? I mean, is he even worth it? That much I can’t even seem to tell.

I mean, he did re-introduce me to my inner-spiritual-self through reading, cycling, talking, etc. We had a great time in each other’s company, although he did annoy me at times with his know-it-all attitude and constant opinions doused in self-righteousness. I’m irked because … yes, he’s older. Yes, he’s lived life. Yes, he’s full of experience and knowledge. Yet, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’s wiser. His opinions don’t automatically weigh-in heavier than my life experiences or my learned knowledge. Just because he’s walked a path similar to my own doesn’t mean that I am destined to walk that same path with the same outcome. It could happen, sure. But I’m hoping and trying to see that it doesn’t. I am a different person than he. I live a different life than he. Why does he not see that? Why does he not acknowledge that? I am annoyed.

You know what it is? I feel judged; as though he is constantly judging me and my thought process. He’s forming opinions and conclusions and attempting to steer me towards his defined conclusions instead of letting me go about it my way. I appreciate his outlook, but I don’t revere it as law. I want to scream at him, “I can listen, but then it is my right to choose whether or not to follow your advice!” It just always seems like he wants me to see it his way and to follow blindly (or in his mind, “enlightenedly”) along. I am annoyed.

Know what the worst part is? Whenever I do talk with him, I manage to say really inappropriate things. Things I didn’t mean to say. Everything comes out wrong. I’m not tongue-tied. It’s not like I’m trying to impress him, but I feel as though I can’t even articulate what it is I really mean. Ninety-eight percent of the time, I’m excellent at choosing my words and speaking exactly what’s on my mind in clear terms that consider the other person’s position and regard to the matter. (I’m a good listener and “amateur psychologist.”) When I speak with him, I end up saying some of the most insensitive things without ever meaning to. Other times, I feel as though he’s manipulated me with semantics and syntax. Instead of feeling challenged or introspective, I feel belittled, insecure, and confused. Instead of being my confident, self-assured best, I’m flustered and babbling. I am annoyed.

And when the hour has passed, I hang up the phone with him. I feel flushed with anger and crappy all-around; things are left unsaid and unresolved. With that, I am very annoyed.

And now I go to swim 2500 yards … to swim, letting the water wash the tension from my body and the rhytmic breathing eradicate the pain in my twisted innards. With that, I am no longer annoyed.