The story:

I was unsuspecting.  I entered into a conversation.  What started out as an informational monologue on the caller’s part to me turned in to a venomous lecture.   I was stunned.  I had not been prepared for what slithered up.

Venomous Snake

I had entered in to this conversation expecting there to be an exchange of concerns, and recent happenings.  Instead I found myself sitting and listening to a verbal attack on things and people I hold dear.

I didn’t see it coming.

I felt attacked.  Blind sided.  Sucker punched. I felt poisoned.

Snake Bite

The after effect:

I felt the slimy-ness of the poison.  It covered me.  Coated me really.  I felt filthy.  Horrible.  One, because it was said.  Two, because I said nothing and did nothing to deflect it or stop it.  But I tried to scrub it off.  Get rid of it.  I felt like I had washed it all off.   I’ve discovered that toxins are very difficult to just ‘wash off’.  There seems to be a residue that is stubborn and evil.   It works it’s way over you and every time it finds an opening, a fresh cut or wound, it seeps in.   And burns.  Burns.  Burns.

 The lesson:

I feel a little bit more mindful of my own venom.

My Own Venom