I've been thinking about writing this post today, developing it, and then realized I didn't have the right sense of how to express what I wanted to say.
I wonder: Do all older people know how to recognize when they're stressed? I know people who say they're fine but aren't.
After a series of negative situations that follow one after another, there comes a time when the bond breaks, and at that moment, what do you do? Do you think it's possible for us to have a fit of laughter amidst all the nerves? Yes, it happens. But not in most cases. What usually happens is that the older adult raises their voice above others' and tries to regain the attention they once had through shouting. It's very sad because their voice no longer frightens, but is ignored, like old shoes.
After everything is over, do you reflect on how you felt during the stressful moment?
Hide away to cry or cry outdoors, in silence or shouting, like Homer Simpson; write, read quietly, talk to God, visit friends or other family members, walk, jog, or exercise (if possible), solve crossword puzzles, word searches, or similar tasks, fight or argue with someone, complain like a wounded wolf.
Complaining is the defense mechanism we have to free ourselves from harmful energy that can set us on fire from within. And if we get caught up in it, there really is trouble, but it's still useless.
I wish I could say I don't complain; but I am now by complaining about older people who complain. Excuse the pun.
Quite a few years ago, I was typing on the computer, upset because there was no water. I complained out loud, tried to send an email, and when I realized I had no internet, my annoyance mounted, and I was filled with rage. That's when they cut off the power. Then I felt so vulnerable. I remember saying to myself, "Now you really have reason to complain," but an attitude of passivity and laxity enveloped me, as if my body was heavy.
Now, when I'm in that obligatory passivity that comes with power outages, I remember that moment, when I thought it was the worst. But, really, I hadn't lived long.
And this last thing really resonates with me right now. Do you know how many people took their anger out on me, and I didn't even know the reason for their anger? Many people have a way of being that they rub their anger in someone else's face, as if they were to blame.
If I were to complain about every single circumstance that happens to me, with or without guilt, there would be no body, mind, or spirit that could bear it, and I don't think I could even bear my soul, because I know myself.
Complaining brings redundancy, something you're already feeling and you're considering. You think it's the best way possible. Then the other person comes and throws it at you, with curses, judgments, complaints, demands, which you can't resolve because you're not a psychologist, because you're dealing with your own limitations, because you're going through the same thing. You just have to be patient and listen.
Yes, I know it sounds ugly, it reads ugly, but there are a range of possibilities for what to do while the situation is occurring to avoid complaining, understanding that it confuses not only the person experiencing the problem, but also the person listening. There's a type of person who is irritated by solutions. When a person is prone to complaining, they don't want their problem solved, because then they have no way to complain anymore, and they have to let go of the victim role that has become so well-suited to them, and they don't want to.
In the end, I would like to be a cheerful older lady, who finds other people's tantrums funny, who finds the humor in everything that happens to me, as my sister learned to do a while ago. And if I fall again, I'll just laugh for the reptilian days that await me.
My written content is entirely original. I do not use AI.
The images were taken from Pixabay with their respective sources.
I used Google Translate.
