Consideration.

(Post written for me.)

Do I expect too much of people? Is it fair of me to do so? Do I have a right to expect anything from anybody at all?

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Lately, I seem to have transformed into someone I've fought against for years. I am no longer tolerant of inconsideration, of selfishness, of close-mindedness, of greediness, of disrespect, of self-centeredness, and the like. It seems I have reached and surpassed my threshold for the shortcomings of the people I surround myself with, including myself.

There was a time when I was patient, oh so patient, with those that took advantage of me, that took me for granted, that used me, consumed my time and effort, and spat me back out without so much as a word of gratitude. Yes, I let it slide in the hopes that perhaps they would see that it need not be that way. I naively thought that people were apt to change, and that, if given enough time, eyes would begin to open.

Unfortunately, I had it all wrong. It was me all along. I couldn't see it, but I was the selfish one. I was self-centered and greedy. Who was I to impose my own views on morality and nicety and compassion and kindness upon others? Who was I to say what behavior was right and what character trait was flawed? Am I not imperfect myself? Do I not have my own guilt-ridden surfeit of blemishes, shortcomings, and idiosyncrasies? And yet, there are still days in which I am unable to sleep, unable to see how I could have been blinded to such a degree as to warrant this emotional and mental dismantling of the mind and soul. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" - this is what I did.

You see, the problem with that statement is that everyone has their own agenda, their own life to live, their own thoughts to think, and therefore, what others would have done unto them is completely different from what they would have done unto themselves. While others would have been content with my sitting idly by when they needed help, I justified my actions in helping them by thinking of what I would have liked others to do for me when I needed help. Little did I know, however, that what was time and effort for me, was merely a plus for the beneficiaries and taken for granted. Perhaps I was even secretly laughed at, labeled as a foolish sycophantic girl. I do not doubt that it happened.

It all seems so silly in retrospect. And the irony of it all is that being inconsiderate is just as unrewarding as being considerate, if not more, bringing upon unrelenting insomnia in this dark and solemn dance of guilt and contrition.