Lately, I’ve found myself getting pretty. damn. ticked off. by people. Like, a lot. Granted, my biz throws me in front of more strangers/interactions than the average person, so maybe that’s worn down my usually high tolerance (yeah right) for bullshit. I dunno: maybe it’s also just that phase of life, you know having to deal with responsibilities for the parents and things. Altogether, it can be a grind.

The good news is that the Maryland house closed a week ago. That’s officially done. My father got his two vax shots while he was here thru summer, and then he endured another 2 weeks of hotel quarantine after returning back to Taiwan. The island is STILL being super strict with their policies. Thankfully, vaccines are becoming more available there, but I’m waiting to see when they remove the quarantine restriction. Until then, I’m not planning to fly out there for a visit. As it is, I can only handle 5 days max with the parentals, and to tack on 2 weeks confined in a room on top of that is a definite deal breaker.

In other news, we’re into the final weeks of the year, and I am picking up the pace working with numerous buyers. I hosted several open houses that thankfully received a ton of traffic, and I actually scored several new clients from those. At the moment, I’m covering a pretty broad geography from Contra Costa County thru Alameda, San Mateo, and down to Santa Clara Counties, but dayum, it feels good to be very busy.

I’ve been working more too with first-time buyers, and that’s especially rewarding. It’s kind of interesting bc one common theme we often encounter in real estate masterminds/trainings is this notion of “how coachable are you?” And I find that that concept totally applies with buyers. With the demographics of our area, we certainly have a ton of dataheads and personalities that can be rather opinionated and decisive. I definitely appreciate working with people who are educated and smart; that said, sometimes there’s a lot of attitude where people do a lot of puffing. I’ve had a few buyers try to “school” me on the process and/or the market, and then once things got down to business with the details, I realized very quickly they were completely clueless.

I recently met a lady at an open house who just kept being very dismissive, treating me like someone below her. Sometimes I get some weird masochistic bug in my head though, where I convert my annoyance into a game, like… hmm, if I WERE to convert someone like this, how would that be done? So I gathered some advice from my team, and she actually responded. Granted the next several weeks, there was still that underlying disrespect, acting like she knew the market better than I did (she was REALLY starting to irk me), but as I asked more questions, perhaps I suggested to her that she didn’t really understand these terms, like “noncontingent” that she was just throwing out. Two days ago, I got wind of an off-market deal and now we are in contract. Not even a fucking “thank you” for preparing the package in a flash and beating out other buyers who had also seen the home.

I won’t go into the details now, but it’s frustrating dealing with attitude from clients. And thankfully, I have had experiences where I know it doesn’t even have to be that way. So note to self: I must do a better job of being selective. I don’t have to work with everyone and honestly, not everyone deserves the level of service and attention that I give.

So of course while all this work bullshit has been happening, I got a call from my friend’s mom. Super urgent. My friend N has been in the dumps (again) and somehow I’m the only one who can get to her. Can I fly out to NC to talk to N? Um, I have been leaving messages, polos, sending cards. No reply. I’m done. And no, I’m not fucking flying out to North Carolina just to have a goddamn conversation. I cannot help people who are unwilling to help themselves. I’m not some godsend miracle worker here to save people. I am at the end of my string. Friendship is a two-way street. I try my best to give some buffer for mental health and how debilitating it is, but at end of the day, if you aren’t responding and you don’t even open mail from your concerned friends, sorry, that’s where I draw the line.

And just like that, I am back in therapy. I know society still has a stigma with mental health and therapy, but I don’t have any shame for therapy. The world’s a fucked up place, and kudos for people who have the cognizance to ask for some fucking help to get better. Anyway, I found a lady who’s pretty good. We’re doing the weekly thing, and she actually seems quite cutting edge. Already, she has suggested some newer coping techniques and methods. I started seeing her bc I was feeling a lot of anger and frustration being surrounded by people of inaction. That’s what I’ll call them. People who are miserable and unhappy and yet don’t take any action to change things or try to make things better. Look, everyone is struggling. You’re not the only one with problems. Fucking do something to figure it out.

The initial impetus for all this was, surprise, surprise, my parents. I had had just one too many calls where mom was a practical vegetable, unable to even get up out of her chair, her muscles have atrophied so much, and dad never leaves the house and just sighs every which way. What are you up too? Is anything new? NOTHING.

Jesus Christ, are you being held captive? Yes, I know it’s covid times but in Taiwan, that shit is under control. You live across one of the largest urban parks on the goddamn island. Go across the street and take a fucking walk! Jesus Christ. As you can see, I was up to my ears listening to this self-imposed paralysis.

The thing is, on one hand, my brain tells me I need to have more compassion. That people aren’t necessarily built like I am (whatever that means) with motivation and self-control. Yada yada. Fine, feel some compassion for them being paralyzed by pain. Now what. What the fuck are you gonna do about it?

So that’s topic #1 with the therapist. Topic #2 is bullshit I have related to work and self-worth and my definitions of success. I have discussed my mental struggles with work/career ad nauseum on this blog. It goes away every few years and then comes back with a fucking vengeance. No one really gets it. What started off as parental pressures used to “motivate” me to be better turned into a lifelong, insatiable, relentless push where at times, I will push myself to sheer exhaustion chasing this nebulous, constantly morphing ideal of success. The therapist admits there are memories and incidents where the things my parents said were “messed up.” Her proposal is to try EMDR (Eye movement desensitization reprocessing) to help move me to a place where I can recall memories without feeling the pain and trauma (her word choice) surrounding them.

So I’m on a once a week and of course, as soon as I started, I began compiling my thoughts about what I thought my issues were and why I was seeking help. Yes, in true control-freak fashion. Unlike what I did with a past therapist though, I refrained from providing her with a written synopsis. Haha, yes I did that in the past! Anyway, as you can see the projects never really end. There’s always something.