The Cookie Monster

The Cookie Monster

By: Jessica B Taylor

“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster…for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”

~ Friedrich W. Nietzsche

 …Ring… I listened to the third ring as I took in a quick breath, waiting and ready to unleash the tirade I had rehearsed in my mind.

           “h…hu…Hello.” Jody, my friend of eight years answered the call, and sounded a bit shaken. Why? Was something going on I hadn’t heard about?

My mind didn’t want to waste time having concern for my friend as it began its rant inside my head, ‘Fuck that! Who cares what she might be going through!!’ My mind was locked in on the mission it had set out to do when I decided to make the call.

           “Hey Jody. Everything ok?” I was faltering already, losing my momentum.

           “Oh, h-hey Barb. Sorry…I really shouldn’t have answered the phone…I’m just in the middle of something…b-but…well, I answered so I guess that’s not your problem” she gave her familiar nervous laugh.

           “Ya, well…I can call back later if you have to go”. There it was. The way out. Perfect!

           “No-n-nooo, really, it’s ok. I was just trying to get my computer screen unlocked. It’s been jamming all morning, and it’s driving me crazy!!!”

           The words I wanted to say went into overdrive inside my head. ‘Ok, Jody, let’s talk crazy. Let’s talk about what drives ME crazy…how about when you text my husband with your requests for favours, and how you constantly tell him how wonderful he is. Let’s talk about how the two of you scurry around fawning over each other when you serve dinner or mix drinks. Let’s talk about when you sent him home with ‘goodies’ the other night and how the two of you giggled about your shared fondness for raw cookie dough. Let’s talk about you asking him to come over and help you move a bed when your husband wasn’t there – you almost got that one…but I’m pretty sure your husband stepped in to make sure that didn’t happen. Yes, let’s talk about what drives us crazy…. The texts you send after we get together asking my husband about the name of the wine, WE served…seemingly just another reason you can pass along another text to my husband.’

Oh, boy, my green-eyed monster had stored up a lot of slights, and it was worked up!

           “Hello!! Hello? Barb, are you still there?” Jody was beckoning me as I snapped back to the present moment. I realized just as quickly that I was in the perfect position to stay silent, thus leaving Jody to think the call had disconnected, which is exactly what I did.

           “Hello!? Helloooo???” I listened as Jody continued to query my presence on the other end of the line as I hit the red telephone symbol on the screen of my iPhone.

           My heart was racing! I wasn’t sure what to do next when I felt my phone start to vibrate in my hand. Incoming call from Jody…FUCK! I wanted to throw my phone in the air…I wanted to throw my phone at Jody.

           “HELLO.” I answered abruptly to stop the pressure I was feeling.

           “Oh hey, I lost ya” Jody’s voice continued to annoy my green-eyed monster.

           ‘Ya, you sure did’. My mind began another barrage of thoughts inside my head. ‘You lost me when you asked MY husband to come over when YOUR husband wasn’t there. You lost me when I found the two of you talking inside the house when everyone else was outside. You lost me when you made cookies for my husband, not both of us…and you made sure to let him know you made them just for him. You lost me when you texted my husband instead of me for parsley from the herb garden I was growing. Ya Jody, you LOST ME!’

           As I came back to the situation at hand, I thought with amazement how fast the mind can pump out information as I was sure only a second or two had passed.

           “Oh, Jody…. right…uh…thanks for calling back” I said with fake sincerity.

           “Uh…no worries. What can I do for you?” Jody reminded me that I was the one calling her and not the other way around.

           “Well, uh…I was calling to…. uh…to say…well…to say thank you for the cookies. They were great”. Liar! I thought to myself.

           “Ohhhhh…. you’re welcome. I’m so glad you liked them” Jody seemed more sincere than me.

           “Oh, we did! Joey even shared a couple with me” I added a fake laugh as I said the second statement to see how she would respond to it. My passive-aggressiveness was well honed.

           “Ohhhh, he did, did he? That was niiiice of him. He’s so wonderful” she laughed, which once again set-off my green-eyed monster.

           ‘Ya, he is fucking wonderful, and I don’t need you telling him that anymore’, my mind was triggered again. It was like rapid fire. I wanted to hurt her the way I was feeling hurt, ‘Oh Jody, by the way, your husband is texting me about the dip I served last week. I’m going to make him some next time we meet up so he can have some all to himself, just from me to him’. I wanted her to feel how I felt. To make her see the err of her ways. I wanted to…. I REALLY wanted to…

Instead, I said, “Yes, he really is a great guy. That’s why I love him”.

           To which she replied, “Well, thanks for calling. I better get back to work”.

           “Yes, right…and thanks again for the cookies. Have a good rest of your day”.

           “Thanks, oh, and tell Joey I’ll make him some more next time I’m in Town…”

           Boom! Crash! Hairpin trigger…’Why don’t you tell him yourself…just send him another text you bitch!!!’

Those were the thoughts exploding in my head as my mouth spoke the words, “Uh, ya right…I’ll tell him”. Then I once again clicked the red telephone symbol on my iPhone screen.

           My body was shaking, my stomach was spinning out of control, my chest felt tight, and my heart was pumping hard. I reminded myself to take a deep breath…4…3…2…1…

Then my heart began to speak to my anger, ‘So, what’s next? Will you go and stonewall your husband tonight? Treat him with disdain and contempt then blame him for doing the same to you?’

           ‘I just might’ My angry mind replied as my face contorted into a mocking scowl. My ego was in full ‘fight’ mode. ‘I just want everyone to fuck off and leave me alone!’

  The shock waves of anger were pulsating through my jaw and temples as I clenched my teeth and held my breath.

           ‘Ok. You win again. You’ve successfully landed in the same place you started’.

My heart was trying to maintain patience and respect and kindness toward my anger, and the maladaptive behaviours I had picked up throughout my life to express…or should I say repress my anger.

           ‘Well, fuck’!  Anger was still worked up. ‘I’m just doing what you need me to do.’

           ‘Oh…and what is that again? What is it I need you to do?’

           ‘You know! Push everyone away so they can’t hurt you again.’ Anger replied matter-of-factly.

           ‘Right. Riiiight. That’s it! Well, I guess you’ve been doing a pretty darn good job then?’

           ‘You bet I have!’ Anger retorted pridefully.

           ‘Let’s try something new…are you game?’

           ‘Uh…well. Ok, yeah. What is it?’

           ‘Instead of pushing people away, I want you to come to me first’. My heart spoke with love and compassion. ‘Just check in and see if there might be another way to handle the situation.’

           ‘Weeellll, it usually happens fast’. Anger wasn’t sure how this could play out, especially because it often felt trapped when it was triggered.

           ‘Oh, I see. Thanks for telling me that. Well, let’s see. I promise I won’t deny you or shame you for being what you are…a legitimate feeling’.

           ‘Wha? Really? That would be great!!’ Anger was relaxing. ‘Cuz you know, that really drives me crazy when you act like I don’t exist. Like I’m bad…or shameful’, Anger explained.

           ‘Wow! I totally get that. You are not bad. You’ve helped me do some incredible things when I’ve been motivated by you.’

My heart knew the power of legitimate anger.

‘There’s been many times when you’ve pointed out injustices that require action. It’s been those times when we’ve worked together that we’ve accomplished great things. The lawsuit. The anger work we did after the home invasion. Awesome teamwork!’ My heart felt genuinely appreciative of those times when anger was used to take strong action for good rather than the ego’s need to use angry thoughts and behaviours to cover up fear when it felt hurt.

           ‘Ya, you’re right. We did do some good work together those times. We probably saved the body from having a sore back or catching a virus when we worked those things out together instead of trying to cover me up and make me something else’. Anger knew it’s energy and power within the body and mind when it was masked and contained. ‘Ok. So yes, I will go to you first before I take matters into my own hands’ Anger affirmed it’s part of the bargain.

           ‘Awesome! And I will not deny you or shame you for showing yourself. I will acknowledge your grievance and we can work together to solve it. The heart muscle felt quite relaxed.

           ‘So, just to be clear?’ Anger needed some clarification. ‘If I find out my husband texted Jody to thank her for the cookies, I come to you first?’

           ‘Yes, that’s right. You come to me first. I’ve got some ideas that we can try so that we don’t push people away. Rather, we take care of each other first, then make decisions on how to respond to the situation, whether that’s simply acknowledging the hurt and/or setting a boundary so other people know what we need’, the heart was pleased with the opportunity to speak truthfully.

           Anger finally felt heard.

           As this dialogue in my head came to an end, I realized that sometimes monsters rear their ugly heads so they can get the attention they so desperately crave. I had denied my anger for so long and kept it locked up inside of me. Like any caged animal, it would remain passive until someone or something poked it, which gave it an opportunity to show its pent-up aggression.

           My green-eyed monster was a part of me. It had grown over time to be larger than life. I would tell people how I was feeling, which would sometimes be met with empathy, ‘That must be awful to contend with’, and other times it was met with contempt and dismissal, ‘You’re crazy for feeling that way.’ I treated it the same.

           I never thought I could befriend my green-eyed monster. Get to know it a little better. Try to understand why it was so afraid. What was it afraid of? It was afraid that somebody would take what I had. What I wanted. What was mine. My heart knew where the hurt was. When the doubled-edged sword had pierced it, and where it had remained ever since that time…yes, that time…

           It was 1978, I was thirteen years old and was dating a boy that I really liked, and I believed he really liked me too. It was in the schoolyard at recess when a friend told me that my boyfriend was now dating my best friend. They had talked on the phone the previous Friday night and he asked her out. I was shocked and devastated.

Forty-five years ago, and I had never forgotten, nor had I forgiven the injustice. It had cemented my deep-seated fear of ‘not being good enough’, ‘not being pretty enough’. It sentenced my ego to a lifetime of having to protect what was mine at any cost. I became the Evil Queen who had to be ‘the fairest of them all’, which meant any potential threat had to be banished from my life. Any woman – friend or foe – that I deemed prettier, kinder, younger, more fit, more talented. My world became smaller. Each event where ‘other women’ were present was a threat and caused untold anxiety. Sometimes, I would use affirmations like, ‘I am worthy of love’ to get through the night. Sometimes, I would use the guise of ‘act as if’ or ‘fake it til you make it’ to contain the feelings of dread and anxiety when I watched my husband talk to another woman, or glance at a woman walking by.

           It was time to forgive. To remove the sword and let the open wound heal. The scar would always remain, and I knew I would never forget the hurt, but it was time to let it go and become the woman I wanted to be. The confident, beautiful, secure woman who knew who she was – warts and all. My green-eyed monster would no longer run the show. I had to forge a new relationship with it, one where I could have empathy and compassion for it. Where I could treat it with kindness and respect…and patience. However, I could no longer let it keep bullying me into submission and allow the Evil Queen to plot her attacks.

           Forgiveness would have to start with me forgiving me for all the mean-spirited thoughts I harboured against other people. For all the times I gossiped about other women to elevate myself. For all the times I behaved like a child when I was feeling afraid and threatened. Or behaved coldly. Using silent scorn instead of outright anger to ensure those around me knew something was wrong but I wouldn’t tell them what it was. They should just know! I had to forgive myself for not knowing how to handle the situation back in 1978. That what others did wasn’t about me; it was about them. I had to forgive myself for not forgiving others.

           I visualized my heart with the handle of a huge sword jutting out of it. It would hurt to pull it out after all those years. Do I pull it out quickly. or slowly and gently, like a band-aid? Either way, it was gonna hurt. I continued with the visualization. I held the handle and moved it around a bit…there seemed to be room around the blade, and the edges were no longer sharp. I began to pull it out. Although it felt a bit uncomfortable, it didn’t hurt in a painful away. It was simply waiting to be removed. It couldn’t do it on its own, it needed me to remove it. There wasn’t a gaping hole that I thought would be there once I pulled it out. It was like the flesh around it simply came back together. There was a tiny mark on the outside of my heart. It was a small scar that had already healed. The sword was dull now, and it looked much smaller than I had imagined it to be. I wasn’t sure what to do with the sword…I asked God if he would take it from me, and then it was gone.

I sighed a heavy sigh then looked over at my green-eyed monster, asleep. Resting comfortably. Not dead, but at peace. Finally freed from its responsibility to be on RED ALERT to protect my injured heart.

“Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster…for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.”

~ Friedrich W. Nietzsche