By 'they', I mean the people in this house who do things the way they do. I have to avoid feeling like it's being done to me, personally.
Banging doors when they don't have to. Leaving lights on when there's no need. Not closing the kitchen door when cooking, letting smells out which end up in my room. Little things like that bother me. I know they shouldn't, and I never reveal that they do; in my experience no good will come from making an issue, and being bothered by it seems more about me than it ought to be, certainly than it used to be. These things shouldn't be an issue, and yet they are.
Today, early this morning, when I was in the kitchen having breakfast, I noticed my neighbour’s kettle was warm, meaning one of the other housemates who'd already left for work must've used it. I knew she wouldn't like that. She doesn't like people touching her things. She happened to be up unusually early otherwise she wouldn't have noticed. Several hours later she sent everyone a message via the ‘group WhatsApp’ saying whoever used the kettle, please don’t.
It wasn't me. I've never used her kettle. I have a good idea who it was though. It's not a big deal. She even said that in her text. But I almost had to stop myself from saying it wasn't me. I certainly wouldn't say who I thought it was, but there was a part of me that wanted to. Just to make it clear it wasn't me. I don't like being thought of as somebody who might have done something he didn't do.
Even though I didn't use it, I still felt a little guilty, because I knew it had been used. How did I know? I couldn't have known without having touched it. I doubt she would have liked the fact that I had. I don't know why I did. So in a way, even though I didn't use it, I still did something wrong, at least in her eyes.
I am someone who does things that can get him into trouble. The fact that I usually get away with it doesn't help me stop doing it, even though I know I shouldn't. And if I get away with something this time, then in a sense, life sort of balances things up if I’m ever thought to have done something I didn't do, next time.
I'd prefer to be a person who doesn't do those things, and I have been aware of it and am a lot better. But I still touch things, move things, even occasionally use things if I don't have them. I'm not supposed to without at least asking first. It sort of doesn't matter at the time, and yet it does. I've always been someone for whom seeking forgiveness is better than asking permission.
Those things they do that bother me, are not all that different to those things I do that could bother them. The difference is...they don't know I do what I do, only I do.
There is a part of me that would be OK using her kettle if I needed to, as long as I know I can do so without her noticing. I don't have a kettle, but it's okay to use another housemates kettle as they wouldn't mind. It's just a kettle after all. I never drink tea or coffee so never use a kettle anyway.
I don't like people using my things, and if I ever notice someone has used some of my washing-up liquid and my sponge, it can bother me, for a bit, until I let it go. It can seem like the usual rules don't always apply to me. It's something I've had issues with all my life.
Banging doors when they don't have to. Leaving lights on when there's no need. Not closing the kitchen door when cooking, letting smells out which end up in my room. Little things like that bother me. I know they shouldn't, and I never reveal that they do; in my experience no good will come from making an issue, and being bothered by it seems more about me than it ought to be, certainly than it used to be. These things shouldn't be an issue, and yet they are.
Today, early this morning, when I was in the kitchen having breakfast, I noticed my neighbour’s kettle was warm, meaning one of the other housemates who'd already left for work must've used it. I knew she wouldn't like that. She doesn't like people touching her things. She happened to be up unusually early otherwise she wouldn't have noticed. Several hours later she sent everyone a message via the ‘group WhatsApp’ saying whoever used the kettle, please don’t.
It wasn't me. I've never used her kettle. I have a good idea who it was though. It's not a big deal. She even said that in her text. But I almost had to stop myself from saying it wasn't me. I certainly wouldn't say who I thought it was, but there was a part of me that wanted to. Just to make it clear it wasn't me. I don't like being thought of as somebody who might have done something he didn't do.
Even though I didn't use it, I still felt a little guilty, because I knew it had been used. How did I know? I couldn't have known without having touched it. I doubt she would have liked the fact that I had. I don't know why I did. So in a way, even though I didn't use it, I still did something wrong, at least in her eyes.
I am someone who does things that can get him into trouble. The fact that I usually get away with it doesn't help me stop doing it, even though I know I shouldn't. And if I get away with something this time, then in a sense, life sort of balances things up if I’m ever thought to have done something I didn't do, next time.
I'd prefer to be a person who doesn't do those things, and I have been aware of it and am a lot better. But I still touch things, move things, even occasionally use things if I don't have them. I'm not supposed to without at least asking first. It sort of doesn't matter at the time, and yet it does. I've always been someone for whom seeking forgiveness is better than asking permission.
Those things they do that bother me, are not all that different to those things I do that could bother them. The difference is...they don't know I do what I do, only I do.
There is a part of me that would be OK using her kettle if I needed to, as long as I know I can do so without her noticing. I don't have a kettle, but it's okay to use another housemates kettle as they wouldn't mind. It's just a kettle after all. I never drink tea or coffee so never use a kettle anyway.
I don't like people using my things, and if I ever notice someone has used some of my washing-up liquid and my sponge, it can bother me, for a bit, until I let it go. It can seem like the usual rules don't always apply to me. It's something I've had issues with all my life.