Court Is Adjourned

I have won some absolutely brilliant arguments over the years.

Unfortunately, most of them took place entirely inside my own head. 😂

You know the ones.

Somebody says something that pisses you off. The conversation ends. Maybe you walk away. Maybe they walk away.

But apparently nobody told your brain the argument was over.

So now, two hours later, you’re driving around thinking:

I should have said this. Then they would have said that. And THEN I would have hit them with this...

By the time I’m finished, I have destroyed their entire argument, proven my innocence, established their complete stupidity and received a standing ovation from an imaginary jury.

Meanwhile, the other person is probably eating lunch and hasn’t thought about me in three hours.

😂

I’ve been sober a long time, and I can still do this.

That’s one of those things nobody puts on the sobriety coin.

Thirty-eight years sober. Still occasionally arguing with people who aren’t in the room.

There was a time when I thought resentment had to mean I was furious at somebody.

Red-faced. Yelling. Ready to kill them.

But resentment can be much quieter than that.

Sometimes it’s just repeatedly reopening a case that has already been closed.

Going over what happened. Rewriting the conversation. Proving once again that I was right.

And that’s the dangerous part for me.

Because sometimes I actually AM right.

That really complicates things. 😂

Somebody can treat me badly. Somebody can lie. Somebody can be selfish. Somebody can say something completely out of line.

And I can be one hundred percent correct about what happened.

But being right doesn’t automatically make obsessing about it good for me.

That took me a long time to understand.

I used to think letting something go meant admitting the other person was right.

It doesn’t.

It doesn’t mean what they did was okay. It doesn’t mean I suddenly trust them. It doesn’t mean I have to invite them over for Thanksgiving.

Sometimes it simply means:

I am done allowing this person to occupy space in my head without paying rent.

There are people from years ago who probably haven’t thought about something that happened between us in decades.

Meanwhile, if I’m not careful, I can drag the whole damn file out of storage and reopen the investigation.

Exhibit A. Exhibit B. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury...

😂

And eventually I have to ask myself a pretty simple question:

What exactly am I trying to accomplish?

Do I want peace? Or do I want to win an argument that isn’t happening anymore?

Because sometimes I apparently cannot have both.

There’s an old AA idea about praying for somebody you resent.

I understand why it works for people.

For me, I don’t necessarily need to have some beautifully spiritual moment where I suddenly wish the person unlimited happiness and prosperity.

Sometimes my version is considerably less enlightened:

Whatever is out there in this universe, please help me stop thinking about this asshole.

😂

That may not make it into any official AA literature, but it’s honest.

And sometimes honesty is where I have to start.

I’ve learned that letting go is rarely one dramatic decision.

Sometimes I let something go Monday morning and pick it right back up Monday afternoon.

Then I put it down again Tuesday.

Apparently some resentments come with a lifetime unlimited-reentry pass.

But every time I catch myself replaying the same argument, I have another opportunity to stop.

Not because the other person deserves forgiveness. Not because I was wrong. Not even because I suddenly understand their side.

Because I deserve to have my own damn day back.

That’s the part I understand better now.

Resentment doesn’t punish the person I’m angry with nearly as effectively as I imagine it does.

Most of the time, they aren’t even there.

I’m the one carrying it. I’m the one losing sleep. I’m the one having imaginary conversations in the shower. I’m the one getting worked up over something that happened three days, three years or thirty years ago.

At some point, being right becomes ridiculously expensive.

These days I try to recognize when the trial has started again.

When I’m presenting evidence. When I’m practicing the perfect comeback. When I’m trying to get somebody who isn’t even present to finally understand my point.

That’s usually my cue.

Court is adjourned.

Go live your life.

I don’t need the last word to have a good day.

And I certainly don’t need to keep winning arguments nobody else is having.