Today I received an angry e-mail from <drum roll, please> FF or "former fiance" - [the intelligent and sexy alcoholic who wouldn't admit his problem, tried AA, lied about attending, and decided it was easier to hide drinking a fifth, quart or whatever-it-is of Jim Beam in his room at home rather than face the bullshit and get a handle on his problem. (I say that because he confessed to "only having had a drinking problem during and after my marriage of four years..." I met him a couple years post-marriage/divorce and his "only" problem was that he was - still - a drinker.]
Against ALL my internal signals I tied the blinders on very snug and dated this man for several years, even weakly accepted a marriage-cum-sobriety proposal one Valentine's Day weekend about three years ago.... At 40-something I knew better. When his lying became unbearable I finally had enough and Break-Up Attempt #1 happened.
As of last summer I think I was up to about eight FAILED attempts. Eight. Simple math - make that, what? - about two or three times a year? Sweet Jesus. Who has the addiction here??
Unfortunately, I'm what some people call "too nice." Others call it "stupid." Still others call it, "indifferent and ambivalent"... if only they knew. <sigh> If I had a therapist s/he'd say I was co-dependent. Because of this character flaw the break-up process (if you can call it an actual process) took longer than the actual good/fun part of the relationship (which was in the very beginning). As of last summer we were at five years. The first six months was a mix of great attraction and passion with a healthy panic on my part as I tried internally to work out the details of his closet drinking (which I hated, and instead of learning how to deal with it - which would have been to break with him completely ) but I donned the old blinders and stayed. The second and third year we did things together - a few family dinners, a holiday dinner (my mother made that into a disaster and, sadly, I reacted the way I always have... poorly); we went on a group camping trip with his long-time friends; a couple get away weekends to a charming fishing shack in Napeague Bay. We had fun when I wasn't worrying in the back of my mind, about whether or not he was being honest....
What made things worse for me was that being alone together was fine. We cooked, drew or read together or separately, took walks, sat in front of the fireplace; sometimes we read to each other. I loved those times - they were safe and sober and peaceful. They were what I'd hoped to have from the start.
Inside I knew: The unspoken truth has always been that the ultimate source of our demise would be his issue(s) and how he shat on my trust. (Which is partially my fault for staying after it happened a second, third, fourth time....) And the fact that I am at my core not able (which is not "can't" or "don't want to" or "won't") to be any closer.
No amount of love, sex, food preparation, offers to do laundry, or offers to 'just trust' him were enough. Nor was there anything I could do, say, be, act-as-if, pray for, draw-the-line about that would miraculously brign back my ability to trust. He wants more time and affection than I am willing to give. And I don't like being pushed or told how I should be scheduling my free time; or that I should be going to therapy (in order to find a way to be with him), or being told if I'd 'just listen' or 'just spend more time' or 'just do what I suggested'.
I am not an addict. I'm pretty bad at hiding stuff. I keep a blog and had a '365' project, and a page on StumbleUpon... not hiding. And he might agree with one exception. I have vanished slowly rather than pull the band-aid that holds literally nothing in place. I do care for and love him; but he is not the right man for me.
It's not a match no matter how many times he proclaims love or a need to be needed, or that we can just sleep together whenever I'm missing him... No. I cannot drag us through anymore, no matter how I did it before - through the "maybe this time" of experience.
This, after alternately writing how much he understood my need to separate, have my space, cultivate my hobbies and friendships, be independent, But he doesn't understand. He doesn't like what I have to say because it leaves him with nothing but his addiction, feelings of abandonment (which are crippling for many people), and the plain truth (in place long before we met).
I'd hoped my feelings would change on their own.
And I am no longer able to do it anymore. Again.
- Location:Home, Sweet.
- Mood:
Restless but OK - Music:night nesting birds in the AC outside my home office
I've 'done' therapy and found it worked best as a place to acquire skills or tools, if you will. Get me some new tools, go into the world, try 'em out... If they worked I didn't return to therapy for a while. If they didn't work - or if I wasn't working them - I'd head back to the therapist for another go. Once I chewed away at the really big stuff therapy was all about tool-sharpening and skills acquisition. You might call it "maintenance."
With my current schedule what it is office appointment therapy sessions are out of the question. So, instead, I read. Two of the more helpful books I've listed below. (Both are quite good, well written. I'm reading the second one again, and read the notes I highlighted in the first to remind me not to make knee-jerk choices when it comes to relationships - any - not just romantic. This part is pretty easy as I'm not "invovled" at the moment.)
Too Good to Leave, Too Bad to Stay: A Step-by-Step Guide to Help You Decide Whether to Stay In or Get Out of Your Relationship (Paperback)
by Mira Kirshenbaum (Author)
Codependent No More: How to Stop Controlling Others and Start Caring for Yourself (Paperback)
by Melody Beattie
The reading helps. I like the pace of reading and being able to go back and re-read.
Therapy helped, too. Sometimes after a session I'd sit in my car and write like crazy (that's funny), reiterating the entire hour so I could remember the revelations, learn, and heal.
A good therapist will challenge you to see and hopefully accept all the parts of yourself, even the ones you keep ignoring... It took a while but I learned my ignored bits were expert troublemakers, and they purposely got in the way (or were put in the way <ahem>) to keep me in a familiar cycle of whatever-it-was I was ultimately trying to change. The thing no one ever tells you is that a good therapist is a guide - they don't do the work. You do. So if you're not experiencing "results" don't blame your therapist. Blame yourself.
Therapy is hard. It has been said the more you are willing to dig and haul out the rotting, irritating, under-shit that is literally eating away at you, the better off you will be. You know - like the eggplant you forgot in the crisper drawer...? Yeah, that stuff.
Deep, honest introspection can be ugly, humiliating, mind-numbing and darkly depressing. It exposes you. It can wreck you for days - weeks - especially when you slam into a nerve you didn't know existed... or were ignoring. Especially when you're finally facing stuff you are afraid of or indignant to change in the first place. Ideas, beliefs, behaviors, reasonings (or lack of any of those things).
Back in my 20's I had a lot of ignored bits. There were a few biggies in my 30's that needed face-offs, too.
The funky thing is that when I shoved my head back under the sand to keep ignoring stuff, there they all were: staring back at me from the dark. Big, HUGE, white eyes like in a cartoon when the scene suddenly plunges into pitch black ,and only the character's eyeballs are lobbing about the screen. Eventually I couldn't run, they couldn't hide, and I was literally sick of being in so much pain all the time, stuck in relationship after relationship that I could not save, be loved in or enjoy: I finally, blessedly reached The End. Something had to change - and, ultimately what happened is that I made the decision to let go of what no longer worked, what hurt me or tried to. This included people - family, lovers, friends; ideas about myself and who I was. The words "just" and "supposed" were examined closely.
The letting go was terrifying because when we get rid of something - anything - it leaves a void. We fear change and being or feeling different. The unfamiliar is awfully scary territory.
But you learn.
... when you have spaces, other (better) things come in. Things you can choose - and that feels pretty good. New, yes, but good, too. (When you clean out the garage and you can finally put your car in there... so change isn't always so complicated or daunting but it does require effort.)
You have to trust the process, trust yourself, find your intuition again (because it's still in there) and keep going. You learn.
Trust and allow change and healing to happen, even if it's a few baby steps at a time.
OX
- Location:Home, Sweet.
- Mood:
Happy, centered. - Music:The wind blowing outside.
Oh yeah, baby, I lost my job. If anyone out there finds it, let me know. In the meantime it has been extended that I may continue to work here "as long as you need to" while I look for new (and better, more satisfying) work.
Getting snarky is fun. Getting a better job is more fun. Getting a full paycheck to look for a job on the up and up, while doing my job is brilliant. And something was uttered last week about not wanting to turn me "out into the street empty-handed...." Let's hope they practice The Happy ending.
As they tune the pitchfork for the sounding of the Recession Bell off in the distance, I lost my job.
As my boss - impossible to please, hard on the eye though easy on the wallet, and one of the biggest self-centered persons for whom I have been paid to keep [business] company as well as one of the most affluent drama kings in the tri-state area fired me last Monday afternoon.
On the con side:
1) I'm a single income single parent. If you wanted to rearrange the words and use only first letters I'm a PISS but that's not very pretty nor does it accurately allude to my general demeanor which is sassy upbeat smartass (most days).
2) See number one.
On the pro side:
1) Boss did me a very big favor in cutting me loose, AND in offering that I stay, get paid, and look for another path to nirvana.
2) Spiritually, I'm in a MUCH better place than I was three years ago when the IT company let me go - without any warning. That spring the "Easter Bunny" took my car (which is what I told Child) and I had to borrow couple "K" from my father to get it back....Thank goodness for him.
3) I'm not seeing anyone so my embarassment and humiliation, when it creeps in and sits like a wet dog at my feet, isn't shared or whimpered about or whined about. There's no "he'll think I'm a professional Loser Girl and dump my ass on principle."
4) There are too many things I'd love to do in life and this is an excellent time to get my talent in order and use it. Period.
So, that's it.
I'm free, fired but still working, and when everything lands in place it will be a very good thing.
- Location:Bread & Butter Factory (but not for long!)
- Mood: Thinking Positively
- Music:Nada.
Three weeks ago, in a fairly unprecedented move, I posted an ad on Craig's List.
I've done this before, mind you.
In the Rants & Raves section I've snarled about politics, The Ex, and other tedium); in "Free Stuff" and "For Sale" I've scoured and discovered cheap-but-nifty furniture (scored two related, gorgeous, near-brand new, high-end living room pieces - overstuffed - for a song... a very cheap song); and I've posted "Seeking" ads under real estate.
These relationships, if you will, have all been self-serving and defined by my needs at that moment: needed a new home quick; desired furniture for that new unfurnished home; succumbed to mindless, well-written (if I do say so myself) venting on the appropriate board. They've all been quite mutually satisfying pair-offs: open, honest, no bite marks, no snarky morning-after banter, no egos were jabbed, and no, "I'll call you....".
(When I'm feeling really obtuse, it's moderately fun to read other people's nonsense especially in Rants & Raves. Geez, people get REALLY angry and, apparently, anger begets poor spelling, grammar snags and a lot of really awesome foul language mixed with a general lack of common sense. Go see for yourself - why take my word? Here's the 'rnr' for New York City: Rants & Raves. )
But the ad I posted wasn't for furniture or a house or to give someone hell about something, or to give something away (except maybe my fear of the unknown).
My ad was for a date. A strictly platonic date, and it went like this:
Strictly Platonic:
Seeking Date for Afternoon Business Party - Jan 27th - w4m - 44
This Sunday afternoon, my employer's family is throwing a birthday party for their father who turns an elder age this week. I was invited to bring "someone special... if you have one." Well, currently I don't.
The party hosts graciously invited the staff from our office, and everyone with whom I work is married and bringing their spouse. (With the exception of one or two older persons who are happily un-partnered.)So, in this New Year, armed with my You-Only-Live-Once resolution I throw this out to CL.
I'm a 5'8", average redhead (natural), with a good sense of humor, manners, college educated (BFA, MA); excellent speaking voice, who knows how to present herself appropriately.
You would be another business-person-type or perhaps a teacher or writer who is looking for something to do (not to mention unusual. Can we venture to say the hazard potential of this is HUGE? On the other hand the upside could be stellar.)
You're in a suite and tie, and for volunteering your date-only services (which do not include sex and/or PDAs) you will receive a good Kosher mean amongst some very nice folks, and definitely an unusual story to tell.
Party is in Nassau County, north shore, at a Kosher restaurant (good reviews from what I've read), from 1PM - 4:30 PM or earlier if they haul out the cake sooner.No strings. No follow-up expectations. No pay (except the experience!)"
----------------------------------
Nevermind I was hoping for a tall man.
An educated, presentable, nice looking man, unmarried (no two-timing cads).
Nevermind I had no business hoping for particulars.
The replies were as varied as chocolates in a box... or, more appropriately, as varied as the nuts in Planter's Party-Mix. They ranged in age from 29ish to 61ish; in height from an apologetic "only 5'4" but I'm all man" to "I have a great ass, here's a picture" - however tall that is. Yeah, some lifeguard-type sent me a butt-shot (self-taken) in a mirror. Nice tan lines but that was it.
I picked one from the bunch but in hindsight he really picked me. Nice reply to my post, including a picture (which I forwarded immediatley to my best friend). When I told him over the phone - during our first and only conversation the day before the party - I'd pretty much caved-in and chickened out, he said, "Oooh no. We're going. And I am going to be such a great date - you are going to love this - I am going to make you look soooo good. Trust me: You'll have a great time. C'mon, we have to go!"
And - with only a photograph, a couple E-mail stitches in a brief conversation thread - and ONE phone call - I said, "OK. We'll go." (I don't need someone to 'make' me look good but I was curious.)
(Oddly enough, it turned out my best friend knew him.) Sort of. She and her family and this guy were seated randomly together at a Masonic event last year. She vaguely recalled his face over a couple days, so when I replied to his note I mentioned I knew him "sort of..." He confirmed the facts I had and yes it was him. We agreed he'd pick me up at 12:15 PM the day of the party, at my front door.
He was a good date. Gentlemanly, mannered, nicely put together and handsome with a quirky something going on (personality-wise) and he smelled pretty damned good, too, when I got close enough to notice. He was tall, intelligent, and nervous enough to laugh at the whole thing.
We had fun. He remembered just about everyone's name to whom he was introduced. He did the door/chair/refil your drink thing. I enjoyed it, though unfamiliar. My co-workers were slack-jawed that I appeared with a date after a long period of self-imposed 'dating celibacy' (my term), and asked me secretly, "Where the hell did you come up with HIM?!"
We ended the date by 5:30 PM with simple handshake and it was done. "No strings. No follow-up expectations. No pay (except the experience!)"
I said I would.
- Location:Bread & Butter Factory
- Mood:
Good. - Music:chatty co-workers
Just when it seems to be finally settling down - if you can call it that - they go and kill Benazir Bhutto. Assholes.
The irony is not lost: killed in the very city in which her father hung.
Murdered along with several others, in the city where the Palestinian Army breeds and lives.
Normally, I don't have much of a reaction when these things happen - celebrities come and go, race horses retire, disco died, and even "Evil" finally took his last great leap... but this one got me good. What a beautiful, strong and empowered woman. What a dignitary and a stateswoman. What a damned shame they had to kill her.
Damned shame.
My wish is that Bhutto's courage, intelligence, grace, and insights are seeded through the globe in other women and girls. One hopes she has many powerful underlings firmly rooted throughout her country who will rise up and continue her works and mission. She lived in my brain as a woman who would do great things, and did... I hope she accomplished something lasting during her time and that she knew that when she died....
One can shake their weary head at GWBush and ask, "Why are other country's misfortunes taken advantage of by you and your henchmen - without hesitation? Don't we have enough to handle already? When will you pay attention to the way you're financially raping your own countrymen and countrywomen, leaving this beloved nation crippled and infertile? Whatever happened to America the Home of the Brave?"
On a personal note, these things that anger me have the common denominator of selfish, small-minded people with overwhelming self-centered anxiety and control issues...and they really piss me off. Wouldn't it be amazing if all the religious heads got together and made a global pronouncement - in every language, for every major and minor sect, tribe, and belief system - that PEACE was The Way? What if they told everyone we'd all be going to hell (if we're not headed there already) if war and hate didn't cease right now? Would people listen? Some people believe that God "makes" them do things... (like kill other people, for instance). Maybe if God "told" them something different they'd change... is that entirely out of the question?
Sadly, PEACE doesn't sell newspapers or popcorn. It doesn't sell clothing or bonds or homes.
PEACE doesn't create excitement or stir souls into action. War does that. War incites and war inflames and war and hatred stir the pot of humanity. Ugh.
What crazy dysfunction is that? Living from one chaotic mess to another? Who's great idea was that behavior??
Attributes like greed or desire or seduction are never associated with PEACE.
Wouldn't it be interesting if PEACE was sexy? If we advertised PEACE like we advertise better skin and beauty products or automobiles or the Internet? What if we put faces on PEACE - what would they look like?
I dare you to substitute the word PEACE into any commercial text you find and then read it aloud to anyone who will listen.
Let me know what you learn.
PEACE to you and those you love (and those you don't) in this and every New Year.
- Location:Bread & Butter Factory
- Mood:
What the heck? - Music:Tires in the rain
Profile
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
collage_life- Collage_Life
Syndicate
