Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me.
Do we still believe in that?
Last week I had a heated verbal altercation with one of my housemates regarding noise at night. Finally tired to the loud noises of fornication (LOL) and the other housemate bringing pals back for a party until well after three in the morning, I tried to convince my housemate to come to a compromise on a “noise curfew”.
My housemate point blank said no.
“You’re not the only person living here
“Not everything is about you”
“The world doesn’t revolve around you”
The last person to say that about me was my mother.
When more than one person says the same thing to you, your brain latches onto that repetition; are they right? Am I really so self involved?
All I wanted was a noise curfew because I’m working seven days a week. I’m working and training to be a teacher, plus finishing the last modules of part one of my master’s degree. On top of that I’m still battling with uncontrolled seizures as well as possible bipolar.
I am planning to move, therefore the compromise was to keep noise to a minimum after 11pm until I move out in the next month or so.
My housemate told me to fuck off, while the other one who partied until after 3pm hasn’t even spoken to me since, let alone offered an apology. So even absent words can be just as harmful as those thrown into your face.
Sticks and stones don’t break my bones but words have broken my mind.