Poisonous

Resentment is a poison you give yourself hoping someone someone else will die.

I know this for a fact … I poisoned myself this weekend and no one else died. It just froze the joy out of my weekend. Resentment is like that. Anger burns. Resentment is cold and hard and casts a chilly pall over everything it touches … except the person you resent … they are, of course, oblivious. You’d think after 20-something years working the 12-steps, I’d have no resentments left but of course, there are a few hiding in the darker corners of my heart. This one is particularly vexing, since it’s a resentment for something done to someone I love, not to me. Yeah, freakin’ wonderful … a codependent resentment. It’s gotten in my way on several occasions before so it’s time to root it out.

Resentment

Almost two years ago, Muri and I went to a jazz concert at the Thornton Winery in Temecula, California.  The concert featured my two favorite groups, Acoustic Alchemy and The Rippingtons.  I posted about it back then in Monday Smiles – 10/10/2011 … and in the spirit of Monday Smiles, I talked mostly about the music, complaining only a little about the slightly snooty, somewhat noisy audience.  And I didn’t talk about one particular incident.   We were seated near the edges of the seating area in order to be in the shade, so there were a number of people standing a few rows behind us.   One man, in particular, spent the first twenty minutes of the show talking loudly to his friend.  I waited patiently for someone to ask him to stop, then turned and said, Could you talk a little more quietly, please?  He looked at me and said, What’s the matter?  Can’t you hear the music?   I can hear it, I said, but it’s hard to enjoy it with you talking.   Well, he said, I’m going to just stand here and keep talking to my friend, so turn around and watch the show.  He did … so I fumed on and off for the rest of the concert.   The song that Acoustic Alchemy was playing was at the time was Templemeads, and since that day, every time I hear that song, I find myself searching for the perfect thing I should have said.  Nasty stuff.  That is the definition of a resentment.