Whatever...there's crazy people everywhere...

Last night, I got up the courage to post one of my podcasts on my podcast again. This was rather huge, as I haven’t been podcasting for almost a year now. Since my mom said something…not quite sure what…to silence me.

Anyway, there was some welcome discussion, and even a few ruffled feathers. I was enjoying responding to the comments on Facebook. Then one lady commented, “Ishmael, you’d better back off of your extreme criticisms of Jordan Peterson for a while!” 

I did something I didn’t think I have ever done before: I clicked the “laugh” button, rather than the thumbs up. I went back to it a few times. Should I change it to a “like” and respond? But what would I say? something like, “If you have solid arguments as to why I am wrong, please tell me. I will consider revising, perhaps even retracting my statements. But I will not shut up just because you tell me to.” …obviously 

But I didn’t change a thing: i left the laughy face, and she never commented again. The day went on, and it was kind of a joke between myself and I.

And quietly, this is significant. Someone out there in the internet thinks I am an idiot, and I should shut up. But you know what? I don’t care. Actually, I think it’s kind of funny.

It makes me think of Kevin O’Leary, (from the Canadian version of Shark Tank, "Dragon's Den") when someone calls him a name. He leans back in his chair, presses his fingertips together, and laughs a big belly laugh. Kevin is not an emotionally healthy person. BUT he does have good boundaries. He doesn’t care what some random person thinks fo him. In fact, he finds it kind of funny. It is paradoxical: through humour, he turns negative energy into positive, and laughs it off.

Anyway, after working on my blog tonight (I launched throwing apples yesterday, as I am writing this) I thought about my mom. Realizing that it has been six months since we talked. They gave me the silent treatment once for six months: but this is the longest I have ever gone without initiating contact.

So part of me was disturbed by that, or…not really disturbed, but feeling like, “So…when are we going to make contact again...?”

And then I started laughing inside. It’s hard to explain, but it made me think of the laughy face I put on that lady’s comment the other day. 

Yes, I know that my parents are fuming mad at me. Yes, I know that they expect a visit or contact to be reestablished at some point. Yes, I know they think I am a terrible son and a despicable person. Yes, I know they think they need to discipline me or something. 

But…you know what? It’s just kinda funny.

I said to myself…and excuse the language, but sometimes when nobody is around my language gets a bit spicy…I laughed and said to myself, “There’s crazy bitches everywhere. Just ‘cause I’m related to one, doesn’t mean we need to be friends!” 

…and I think that’s kind of it. We are related. I think eventually….waaay down the line, when this process is more complete, I will re-establish some form of contact. But we are never, ever going to be friends. We’re just not. And she’ll be mad about that. And I’m fine with that. 

Better than fine. 

After all that she’s put me through…is this sinful to say? It kind of makes me chuckle to think of her fuming away somewhere. 

Let her. 

Far away, over here, safe and sound, I’m sleeping like a baby knowing that she can’t touch me. Good night!