I’m an Over Performer

I am an over performer. Why? ‘Cause I want and need people to like me. When you are a people pleaser, you out perform everyone in your world.

YOU put THEIR NEEDS first and YOUR needs LAST; or so you think.

THEIR issues trump YOURS; or so YOU think.

After a while you become bitter, frustrated and an a-hole that no one wants to be around. So much for performing to get your needs and wants met. Oh well.

0327122008Yeah, it sucks. It makes my life a living Hell on Earth at times too.

Since I want and need people to like me, I am always on the look out for things that I can do to win favor with another. When someone needs help, I am there. Ready. Willing. And able. Aren’t I a great person. The model Christian and BFF ever. I should get an award.

I bend over backwards for others, help out when my help is not necessarily needed or wanted. I volunteer to assist even though my brain is screaming “NOOOOOO!” in my head. I have no boundaries, whatever the hell that means. I think I have great boundaries. They are just size of the Great Wall of China so that I can do favors for and help as many people as possible. I am an awesome human. Worthy of a Nobel Prize or something.

See, when I do for others, I feel good about myself. I believe that I am doing “good” and thus earning my keep and validating the very reason that I was born and reside on this rock third from the sun. Without my “do gooding” I am just taking up space, breathing other people’s air and in the way. Jesus, I am fucked up.

After I over perform, I pat myself on the back, puff out my chest and take pride in  for being a great friend, husband, father and employee. I smile with great joy in my accomplishments of going way above and beyond the call of duty ’cause no one else would. I await the applause, bowing at the ankles, thank yous and the payback rewards I have earned by helping other and over performing. Sound familiar. This system is a recipe for relational disaster.

The applause never comes, the thank yous are lost in my spam box and the bowing at the ankles will never happen. I get depressed. Then, believe that others do not value me as I value them, fuckers. This belief drives hurt which fuels aggravation, frustration and even aggression. I’ll show those pricks for not honoring my do gooding with even a think you text. Bastards.

I put myself in this position.

My need and want for others to like me and my chosen manner of how to fulfill those needs and wants is completely fucked up. And, I have my head in my ass.

I need a cranium-rectum extraction to help me realize that I am over performing for MY benefit and not the benefit of OTHERS. I do all of this great stuff, career stuff for ME not THEM. It makes ME feel good because I believe that I am invaluable to others. They won’t abandon ME. They will be there for ME. They love ME. Wow. I really am that selfish and stupid. No wonder my life sucks.

Once I realize that all of this “running around like a chicken with its head cut off” effort to help others so that they are endowed to ME, worship ME, never leave Me, honor ME…you get the point, is all about ME and not THEM, I can start the healing process.

All of this do gooding is exhausting and often disappointing. I need balance. I need to wait to be asked to help. I need to help because I want to and not because I am secretly expecting something in return.

It’s hard work. Yet, less hard work than over performing with so many more benefits for ME and others.


Mark the Damn Diamonds Please

So, my son is playing baseball in a new league.

And of course they play at a new field.


PIC_0020Time to learn a whole new set of directions, systems and protocols. Change is good. You go first.

During his first practice, we find out there are 10 fields at the massive, biggest I have ever seen, park district monstrosity park. The are three separate sets of fields and a set of batting cages.


Nothing is marked. There are no maps, no signs or any way of identifying where you are.

The league didn’t send out a map. Nice. And of course, the information about the location of first practice was  vague and ambiguous: field 4 is all that was given. Wow. Great. Helpful. Thanks.

We drive from set of fields to set of fields trying to identify the teams and the players practicing. as my son and I sit in the car and attempt to id teams we come to one of two conclusions:: right or not the right hats. we are on a treasure hunt and all we have to go on are the lids that the teams are sporting.

Then I notice a sign for another league other than my son’s. Wrong set of fields. Again!

I put at least 500 yards on my car. Driving in circles. Looking at hats and for signs.

Frustration is growing. I hate when things that should be easy aren’t.

Why the hell can’t they provide you with a map and better directions?

Here’s an idea, mark the fields on a map and send that to the players and their parents

I am lampooning the baseball league to myself, I navigate around the various soccer fields, moms and kids running to their soccer practices trying to get my son to bis baseball practice.

There are too many sports, kids and overly involved coaching parents In the world.” My lampoon of the situation continues. “I hate when parents coach from the stands. I just want to...”

We find another set of fields. This is promising. Hats like my sons. No signs though.

We park.

We walk toward the diamonds.

My son is attempting to remember the kids on his new team. I am sure his mind is working like a Las Vegas security video system as it works on matching faces to names all to recall if he has seen those faces before.

Back to my plight about things that should be easy that aren’t.

A little forethought please. I am astounded that there is not one, not one dog gone numbers, on any of these fields. What good is calling a practice for field 4 if none of the fields are marked or identifiable?



Finally my son recognizes someone.

I stand in the middle of a circle that is surrounded in quarters by backstops of four diamonds. Not one marked. Not one. No indication of which is 1 or 2 or 3 or 4. Crazy.

Droll from the insanity of the situation is flowing down my chin as I stand clueless in the middle of the circus. I try to make sense of the mayhem.  So, if he’s practicing on field 4, turning to my right, is that field 1 or 3 or 2?

Eventually, I quit trying to figure it out before I loose my mind completely.

I mutter obscenities under my breath I turn in circles.

I stop, inform my son that I will return to get him at the end of practice and that he should meet me in the parking lot.

At least I know where that is.

Crap That Drives Me Nuts

311674_1918293568502_1076087343_nI have zero problems with you as a driver if you turn in front of me, accelerate up to speed and don’t break my momentum.

In fact, I admire your driving prowess.

Even if I have to tap my brakes, to allow you a split second to get up to speed, I am ok with that.

Less impressed with your driving skills and still ok though.

Cut me off and force me to slam on by brakes thus breaking my momentum, well that is a whole different story entirely.

If you roll a stop and enter the traffic flow then do not accelerate up to speed or, worse yet, slow down, then you, my friend, are a selfish a-hole. And an oblivious dork whose behaviors are all about you and your place in traffic and thus the entire world.

Screw the other drivers” is your mantra. As long as I am first. As long as I am in charge. As long as other notice me. Nice. You narcissistic nincompoop.

Don’t you dare act all accomplished and capable and ballsy and Jeff Gordon like by rolling a stop sign only to become a wimp once you make that turn and are “first”. Either be Jeff Gordon the entire time or wait your turn. No ballys turners turning into wimps please. It is an annoyance and creates accidents too. So says I, card carrying member of the international fellowship of other drives who would love to ticket selfish drivers. Oh, what I wouldn’t give to have a siren and light in the car at times.

And don’t get all upset either when traffic catches you and drafts your bumper  because you became a wimp upon your merge into on-coming traffic. You brought that rath on yourself with your selfish decisions and ball-less driving skills.

Be a wimp at the stop sign and wait.

At least your a consciousness pussy who won’t cause accidents.