Dealing.

Coping has never been one of my strong suits. And by never I mean never. I can't really think of a time where a difficult or uncomfortable situation arose where one could say I acted in a relatively healthy manner. And by the assumed unhealthy manner in which I may act or choose to deal with a scenario I don't mean to say that I might adapt a completely uncontrollable nature or burst into raging ass. It's just that sometimes, I might not always make the best decisions regarding communication. What I mean is, if I'm irked, I probably won't say anything but if you're at all keen on observing facial expressions and jaw tension then you might get my irksome drift.

This isn't anything that's uncommon. A lot of people do this. Namely my dad. If anyone can make a room feel chilly it's that man.

Some people might call this avoidance. I've always called it dealing. To me, it seems more appropriate. I don't really feel like I'm avoiding anything. Oh, maybe I'm avoiding a direct and initial confrontation, but the confrontation comes eventually, in some form or another. I tell myself I'm taking it on the chin at the moment, just to study it for a bit so I can come back later and see if it was worth noticing in the first place.

Can you imagine, someone so insecure that they can't even trust their gut when it comes to one's own feeling of being stepped on?

And in some weird, fucked up way, it adds all the more to my own sense of martyrdom; that I've "put up with" something and held it in and not said anything somehow makes me a better person is probably what's beneath it all: the sense and desire to feel like a good person because I could deal with other people's shit.

I just used a semicolon and a colon in the same sentence. I could be a prick.