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The way different people are treated

The way different people are treated


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Posted by Ev on October 27, 1999 at 13:15:52:

In Reply to: Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong--you're who you are posted by Jasper on October 27, 1999 at 12:40:20:

Hello Jasper & Tigs,

I think your conversation about siblings being treated differently within the family is interesting stuff. Have you ever noticed that this behavior doesn't stop with just the family? Let me give an example to show what I'm talking about.

Where I work there are people of every temperamental makeup imaginable and yet they can be quickly broken down into two categories. You either have the rule following, conscientious, dependable sort or you have the "wild child", rule breaking, "I gotta be me" sorts. Here's the funny thing I've found, the company can and does accept the behavior of both types. The screw-ups can do so for 30 years and retire with dignity. The rule followers can do so and retire in 30 years after taking a bunch of S**t from management during their career. But here's the weird part, if a rule folower ever attempts to cross over and become even a bit like their fellow worker the company rains down fire and brimstone upon them. Now why is this? It's hard to explain logically and yet it happens in nearly every workplace on Earth. Have y'all noticed this?

Ev


: : I know I was a bit stroppy, but it made me think of lots of things I don't want to think about like Jonathan and my own forcefulness, which I'm never allowed to have. I used to get hit for it when I was a child and now I get seen as aggressive by my mother, rather than energised like my sister is. She comes in with the force of a whirlwind, but isn't seen as aggressive. I feel like all the time at the moment I'm being told to be quiet and subdued, and I can't be like that. I am a quiet person in that I'm on my own all day with no one to talk to, and I read a lot and am on the computer a lot. I don't know if this hormone imbalance is affecting me that way either. I just know I won't take it from other people any more; I'm not going to be a doormat any longer. And the trouble is I'm very good at being incisive so it hurts people more than I expect. They go all injured and don't see that I'm hurt as well, because I'm being assertive rather than cowering or being meek.

: : Sorry for delay in meds. I'm doing the tapes.

: : Tigs. PS I know I'm in fighting spirit at the moment, but I feel like the alternative is to be depressed.

: ***
: We are all a bastion of ever changing moods, esp. fours. In his book on the six keys to happiness, psychologist Richard Carlson talks about how our biochemistry causes our moods to constantly fluctuate. It's normal. When you are down, only two things to remember: (1) realize your mood will elevate on it's own, don't try to ponder why depressed, it won't get you out; try something distracting instead like a walk in nature, the beautiful gardens around your home, for example; and (2) NEVER make an important decision in the low mood, you can't think clearly then. Wait, hold tight, do fun distraction activity, then when mood lifts, ponder and make the decision.

: I can totally relate to how the same activity done by you and your sister can get different reactions from the rest of the family. It has to do with how they have perceived the two of you--the different ways they have perceived the two of you--throughout your life. And unless you do something dramatic that is out of character for how they perceive you, that perception they have will not change.

: Here's my story in a nutshell. I am the oldest, the quiet one, the disciplined one, the obedient one, the four. My younger brother (who looks like me except with blond hair) always the rebel, fighting back the parents. My father used to leave him notes with skull and crossbones on the cover essentially saying "mow the lawn by the time I get home from work, or you'll never see your friends again." Of course, my brother found a way out of the lawn mowing, and saw his friends during the day. My dad's a pussycat, couldn't hold him to it. But me--never. I can still hear my mother's yells echoing in my ears. But the best story: my grandmother drove my brother so crazy for a while in his teens that for one of her birthdays he sent her card on whose cover were a bunch of pigs drinking out of a trough (sp). The card said "your number came up at lunch today." She scornfully laughed, told my mother about the card--and sent it back to him for his birthday! But had I sent it, my parents would have packed me off to the psychiatrist for making my grandmother cry hysterically.

: Jay




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