I got an Obama for my Birthday

I have thought to myself a few times, how shall I capture my 43rd birthday? Such highs, such lows.  Mercury in Retrograde is bored of boredom and wouldn't allow it.  The kids in town, after having all last week off due to Hurricane Sandy, were also off yesterday on Election Day.  My mother told me all of my life that I was an Election Day baby, eager to assign me a "holiday".  My brother also has a political holiday - Pearl Harbor.  

Waking up as a single mom on a birthday is really going to test you on how much of a tune up in perception is needed.  Joyous?  Yes, in so many ways.  One of my friends from the formative years passed away at about age 36.  So I think of her, her kids and now granddaughter, who she never laid eyes on.  I am blessed, a lucky one indeed to be able to see my own kids and see my grandson in photos on Facebook.  Not the optimum situation but I'm here and I was able to lay eyes on the next generation of my lineage.  

Meanwhile my Humanling couldn't give a pebble of a crap about sentiment.  Eventually I asked for a happy birthday from her as she was more concerned with the Wii and her slot to own the television.  

I made my coffee, did the dishes and wanted to go vote.  Flip and I agreed to go together.  Due to things he already had to do, it would be put off for many hours.  I did yoga instead.  Incense, vanilla candle and Soundscapes on one of those channels on the television that would give me the right vibe.  Humanling came in and decided to write during my yoga session, eventually asking me about the music choice, which she liked.  

On the way to the track to do some walking, I thought it would be the best time to eat a cupcake with a giant head of frosting.  This frosting is worthy of being writ of from the best literati's of the world.  Unbelievable. 

Once at the track, I took out my dog-eared Dracula paperback.  Humanling decided to walk with me, trying to emulate with an American Girl book.  I tried to guide her since I believe walking and reading are pretty damn awesome.  And if it weren't for my ability to do so, I'm sure I'd log less miles.  A helicopter flew overhead and we took photos.  We did yoga poses on the track.  And I talked her into walking a full mile by waiting until she was halfway there to tell her only two more laps and you've made a mile!  It worked.  She gallantly did her mile and then walked off to sit in the car (NOT touching the radio as I'd instructed).  

I took another 2 rounds alone and then we left.  Eventually Flip came by bearing gifts.  The best of them, a poem he wrote for me. He is 42 and this is his first time plunging into the poet pool.   He spoke familiar of the staying up all hours to get it the way he wanted it....as the creative process is want to do.  When it wants to come out, it won't let you rest.  

The poem itself was incredible.  The artist in him truly came out.  There was so much concept to it.  

We voted.  We ate, the kid was carsick on the way there and back.  We tore off to his place for some adult time.  A fire was blazing, we spoke for a bit.  We finally went down to the bedroom after being in the living room chatting for nearly an hour.  He wanted to watch some election coverage....not my idea of foreplay but ok, I can be flexible.  

Once downstairs, he is saying such wonderful, deep things.  I could hear his soul in his words, and part of me wanted to just go with it and follow that unicorn....another part wondered what is real and what is any sort of manipulation, if at all.

Vulnerable, naked and just finally warming up under the cool blankets, the phone rang.  

The voice on the phone announced it was Ex Girlfriend calling.  Right Now.  On my birthday, right before Stuff was going to happen.  He said to me, great timing.  I'll deal with that later.  Then she started to talk on the machine as he tried to continue kissing me.  I'll admit that I was not ok with this.  Yes, it is me in his house, it is me that he says he loves (although he has also told me that he loves her - but you know, as a friend).  I have been unfavorably compared to her in the past and emotionally and mentally beaten up for having guy friends or exes in my life.  I have learned to burn them all at the stake for relationship's sake or else be interrogated with "logic" that falls in his favor.  Why am I friends with them?  Do I have a long history with them like he does with her?  Are we really "friends"?  This is what I used to go through.  It is embedded in my psyche.  And when I hear her voice on the machine, it pisses me the eff off because I am expected to be cool with it.  

How cool would he be?  I do wonder, although I wouldn't purposely bring about a life lesson for him to deal with.  But I do know that it will happen at some point.  That's how life is.  

Wasn't it he, who showed up in my driveway trying to see if I was home yet, back in September, thinking that I didn't see him do it?  Didn't he berate me because he thought that I was on a date?  

The hypocrisy disturbs me.  I feel that one reason he needs this person in his life is to validate his own desirability.  His sense of self greatly depends on the outside world seeing him as superior with intelligence, body strength, and his looks - including being in shape.  We all want that, right?  Of course we do.  But he seems to need it more than the average boo boo bear.  He has told me himself that he could "have her back whenever he wanted" and then continues to keep her in his life.  Well why else would you do that but for an ego boost?  She hides him from her own boyfriend and does not admit to speaking with Flip. Rushes him off the phone if the boyfriend comes home.  How good is that?  

So yes.   The call disturbed me.  Greatly.  I voiced it.  He got mad.  I started to get dressed.  He shouted at me that I was not trying.  So I lay back down and gave the green light that I was conceding for now but that he will have to accept any and all that I let into my life without crap.  He continued to shout and then shouted at me that I wasn't doing anything to make it better, that I was being like ice.  I haven't read 50 Shades of Grey...I'm not entirely sure how to incorporate angry shouting into foreplay.  I wasn't sure what he wanted me to do.  When he wouldn't stop, I finished getting dressed and since his car was at my house, needed to bring him with me.  He shouted at me for a good part of the ride until I pulled over and told him that we weren't moving until he stopped.  I had to pull over three times for a seven minute ride.

I don't get how he doesn't understand.  I heard her message - playing 'phone tag'.  Well that would mean that he called her last.  I don't ask who he calls or when.  I decided with the day by day status that it would all be don't ask don't tell.  And then no one gets mad.   But when the info is offered, that's different.  He has never told me that he speaks to her unless I have asked. Then I get the run down. Or what he decides to tell me.  Usually he throws it on her, as She is doing the calling.  I sort of doubt she is doing all of it....especially since the phone tag comment.   I decided to stop asking because it's just not helpful.  Now he is throwing the past in my face.  And I throw it back.  I am the monster you've created because of your controlling, manipulative and overbearing ways.  And you don't like it.  You think you can change it.  Let a dog smell a steak and whack it on the nose for three years every single time it smells a steak.  Then one day decide to give it a steak to eat.  What will the dog expect?  That's how it is . 

Don't compare me in arguments unfavorably to this ex of yours who has run the gamut of relationship offenses and chalk it up to her "drug addiction" and then get mad at me when she calls when we are in bed on my birthday.  A little understanding would be great instead of acting like I have offended You.

The rest of the night was high and low.  I held a sick guinea pig in my lap for hours and tried to give him water and food, which he would not take.  I did my best to make peace with the situation and try to keep him comfortable and give him love. Flip emailed and phone bombed.  He wouldn't let me speak so I finally pulled the batteries out of the phone.  The raising of his voice caused me to raise mine in order to be heard.  I let him speak but it was the same old when I tried to.  He'd interrupt relentlessly.  I didn't need to keep torturing myself in the last hours of my birthday.  He started sending back responses that told me he wasn't reading my emails anymore, just deleting them.  I decided eventually to cease contact as I was becoming more frustrated and upset.   I watched the election results, feeling sick doing so, not being sure where things would end up.  The results came like a bolt of lightning.....all of a sudden it was announced.  I rejoiced and then stayed up to watch Mitt Romney concede....for I wouldn't be able to sleep without at least that.  The country back in President Obama's hands, I went to sleep.  

We now brace for a nor'easter....rain?  Snow?  Not sure.  But I have some hours ahead of me today sans kid.  Do I spend my gas, driving to the Buddha house so that I can take photos and probably see it for the last time before they close in January for a few months?  Do I stay here and clean house (ew) and catch up on reading?  That sounds good too.  Exercise will be important though....perhaps today will really be a hula hoop & yoga day!  I can read and hoop.  Oh the choices!  But I do need to get up off my grouchy butt and do something.  

Perhaps I overreacted yesterday.  Perhaps my initial reaction was not an overreaction but it only got worse with his reaction to mine.  He does not like my statements about it being fine to be friends with who he wants, so long as he accepts my choices and what makes ME happy about who I have in MY life.  I stressed, so long as there is no threat to the relationship.  

I've learned the most from this relationship. It has a lot to offer in the way of learning opportunities.  At the same time, I don't know that I really want Relationship Bootcamp.  I think I'd be happy at times to move on to nothing for awhile or being with someone of an easier temperament.  No relationship has held such serial combativeness.  Just this one.  

So happy birthday to me.  The only realization that I've made lately is that I've lost my happiness mojo for a bit and will need to struggle to force it back upon myself.  The urge to write, to read, to BE....it's a bit high up on the shelf and I'm struggling to reach it.  But reach it I will.  Maybe today I'll climb a shelf, for it is the harder thing to do.

Just Another Day for Rasputin

I really love being in the flow of writing more often.   Lately it has been possible to write, only that my time balance has been shifted again.  Or shitted.  Long story short (but I can't promise that since there is a whole blank slate in front of me to fill) - the day after I stopped at Flip's and left without finishing that drink, he took 47 percocets with bourbon.  Now I hear a lot of disbelief from many, including myself.  Forty-seven?  How is that even possible?  Legend has it that he took them over a 6 hour period of time, and that in the longer run, he took 120 of them within 6 days.  What do you mean, Red Flag?

Nothing much happened to him.  Just another day in the bizarre metabolism of being Flip.  See him in his blockbuster hit, Rasputin.

Without knowing anything about the pill guzzle, I received an email from him in the early evening the next day.  It simply asked if I could come over and keep him company for a little bit.  This was a very different communication from anything else that had happened.  I wondered what he wanted.  Did he want me to watch him cuddle with the dog the whole time again and subject me to a dark room with cleats and big spandex booties (football my friends.  Don't get excited....I had already learned not to...)

I went over and found him with the sweats and shakes and in a state of withdrawal.  He put his head in my lap for awhile, crying, sweating, cold and clammy.  I wasn't really sure what to say.  Honestly I do have empathy.  I has empathy like a boss.  But if people take advantage of it, if people make a dramatic show of their tragedies to solicit empathy, I have a rough time faking it til I make it.  I was probably just quiet, trying to figure out what he was doing.  He'd messed around with the pill idea before, and now due to being on my insurance, he got his hands on a 120 count bottle of a failed overdose.  I had no idea what to say except to just listen without judgement and not say anything to make it worse.  I stuck to what "facts" were being given. Asked questions.  But kept emotions out of it.  Of course he had told his ex about it...but of course.  Part of me says, well, is this due to more attention?  Or after a few years of separation did he suddenly feel natural about her as a constant confidant?  Whatever the case, this wasn't the time to vocalize it.  

He didn't feel comfortable or safe showering without someone in the house so I sauna'ed in the steamy bathroom as he showered.  I guess I did what anyone might do.  Smoothed his hair, held him, let him cry and curse what he believes is a seven year streak of bad luck.  

(I am, by the way, in Starbucks on a wonderful day that I've taken off work.  The gentlemen next to me are probably in their 50s or 60s.  One of them sounds like he works for a radio station.  There's a song on and the DJ is singing along with it..."why don't you do right...get out of here, get me some money, too......"  He says, "another one of those songs where they put down men...." and continues to sing along, wishing it were the Peggy Lee version....)

How someone can take all those pills and not die or even barf, is beyond me.  I don't know what his insides are made of but it didn't seem to do much to him compared to what it should have done.  

He told a number of people about it and did have to tell his own doctor because five days later he couldn't shake a pain near his liver.  We spent about four hours in the ER, blood work coming back all good.  (What?!)  I think he is lucky that the doc on duty looked like he owned a pot farm and also knew Flip's aunt personally.  He gave him that meaningful look and asked, "What was your intention in taking all of those pills?"

Flip sounded like a teenager being considered for castration.  There was a jubilant admission of impulsivity and the desire to "never do that again".    We had plenty of time to talk during our ER date.  

I wasn't sure what to make of everything.  He cited so many ingredients in his soup of pain as to why this happened.  I'm sure a case of the Fuck Its.  That's usually a popular one.  A desire to escape from legal and financial distress.  He throws in losing me.  

As he hugged me, he said he didn't want to be broken up anymore.  I felt like hitting a pause button.  I didn't have anything to say other than "We can only do moment to moment, day to day for now."  I don't even know what I mean by that.  I worried, I care, but I don't believe there is anything of benefit for me in this.  There is some good conversation, some exchange of meaningful information, emotion, affection.  But I found that engaging again destroyed the sense of time balance that I had finally established for myself.  As soon as Flip was back on stage, my reading, exercise, detailed cooking, blogging, writing in general, facebooking, was all put in the props box behind the curtain.  There was a lot of phone time put in.  Have I mentioned how much I hate the phone?  I do.  A lot.  I used to make excuses to avoid it but now if I meet anyone who has no prior knowledge of me, I make sure it's a part of my name during the introduction.  Make no mistake, it's not you, it's all me. Hate.  Phone.

So what do I have now?  He needs an outlet, he needs help, he needs uplifting.  I wondered aloud (in an email) to a girlfriend....are we dramatic?  Is that why we find these situations?  No....we aren't dramatic.  Maybe we find dramatic people in order to be helpers or to calm or ground .... the nurturer...the helper bee.  And not that I want to keep score but I do have to be fair to myself - who is helping me?  I'm helping me.  And I have a great girlfriend or three who will listen to me.  I'm pretty self-reliant.  I don't have physical or financial help.  I get by without it but sometimes do some mental window shopping, as if looking at diamonds.  I would love to be in a mutually beneficial helping relationship.  Where the balance rolls slowly back and forth but no one person always has their prints on the needy side of the scale.  

So I find myself pulling into myself.  Taking his calls, even calling him at times.  But letting him do a little more of the reaching.  When he does, he talks a lot of his problems and my life is put on Frozen while I listen to him think out loud.  Sometimes it's a discussion. Sometimes when he starts forming the downhill snowball, I stop him gently and remind him to break it down task by task or else things feel overwhelming and he'll sit down in the middle of the heap, unable to move forward. 

I'm not sure what my role is right now.  But I can tell you that he probably thinks that I am "cool" with him using his ex as a sounding board and new bf.  I'm not.  I think it's bullshit the way things have gone for the last 3 years and suddenly he's going to act like this would have always been ok on either end.  I know for a fact that isn't true since I have had exes contact me and it's been an issue.  But fine. Talk to your ex that you need in your life.  Because I'm not swatting any of my exes or guy friends away, so long as no one is doing anything wrong, right?  Why should I?  I don't need to answer to anyone and if he's uncomfortable with it, he can opt out.  I'm not out to play the field.  Sometimes I'm not even out to be up to bat even once.  But I am going to live authentically.  

So I don't have a boyfriend, and yet, I have a boyfriend.  Moment to moment.  Day by Day.  

The Dark Side of A Projected Gemini Influence

It's a work day!  And I'm sitting on the porch, sun glaring off the screen, making it multi-functional.  I can see how my hair looks against it.  I took the day off since I knew I would be home late last night from my wonderful event in the city.  

I'm wondering if there was some sort of Gemini something in the astrological dice yesterday.  A duality.  I had what was a great time and one of the absolute worst times lately.  

The book I had ordered from the Strand had not yet arrived and the author event was upon me! So I called them and come to find out, they just hand me the book when I get there.  Whoo hoo!  I didn't know this well enough in advance so I had emailed Flip.  I remembered that I saw one of my books there, Door Wide Open by Joyce Johnson, still on a shelf.  I emailed him a simple email to ask if it was there and if he would please put it in his mailbox for me to pick up.  Did I use the word simple?  Yes, for me it was.  He couldn't answer simply.  He had to say that I had a few books there still and would I need a hazmat bag so that I don't catch his cooties.  We are 42, folks. Both of us.  Just saying.

I replied without any notice to the cooties.  Asked if he could put them in a bag and put them at the end of the driveway and that I had 2 small books of his that I could put in the mailbox or in the spot where he leaves my books.  He couldn't just give me a nice answer.  Instead he emailed with the same basic speech he's been sending me for over a month I think.  He's been going off every single day, whether I address it or not.  I've told him that I'm not doing this anymore.  What is he gaining by emailing me this stuff day after day?  It's more that he is forcing his perspective on me constantly, as if one day I'll say, "Huh.  You were right.  I do see it that way now.  I so DID 'fuck and chuck' you, just as you said I did!  Amazing!  Gee, I'm sorry."  

The back-story on that being that yes we had a physical reunion about a month ago, maybe longer, at my suggestion.  I've written about it.  His ex who appears only when I'm gone calling while I was on the phone with him and he trying to brush it under the rug, then telling me when I called him on it that they call each other in hard times.  Meanwhile, during my relationship with him, had I discussed our relationship with my exes, he would have flipped out and figured out a way to make me feel like I'd done wrong.  Three years of conditioning by him and he rewrites every rule he's inflicted on me.  If I were to rewrite it, I'd be effed.  If he does it, I'm still effed.  So whatever. 

So instead of doing this nice and easy, I receive emails that I am a pig.  That I don't deserve respect.  Are you tired of this? Do you think you've heard this before if you normally follow this blog?  Well you have.  Pretty much all the time.  Because he keeps going.  The batteries do not die with this one.

I'll be honest...I'm not with anyone.  I don't have a boyfriend, I'm not priming anyone to be my boyfriend and I'm not speaking with any dudes who could turn into one.  I don't even feel that I'd be ready to inflict myself on another person.  I need a little time to be normal again.  I had emailed him numerous times asking him where my books would be.  I didn't tell him that I had an event, I just figured I could ask for my things and since he isn't put out by driving them anywhere, he could handle the task.  Oh Gods of Assumption, why do I pray to thee?  He sent back all of my emails at this point writing simply 'Unread'.  So I put in the subject line, "books, end of driveway please".  I know even if he isn't opening them, he can't miss that.

I showed up...no books at the end of the driveway.  Sigh.  Drive down the long driveway and then I start beeping the horn. Eventually I get out to knock.  I can hear him before I can see him and hear the word 'obnoxious'.  Then he opens the door, his mouth already going, him telling me something like, "You look good.  Too bad....blah blah blah blah" (something along the lines of an insult) and I don't hear the rest.  I'm busy tossing his two neatly wrapped up books into his chest.  He is still going on.  It goes ugly.  FFFFFFuuuuuuugly.  And this time I am not proud that I've even stooped to looking the slightest bit annoyed.  I certainly acted it.  And it wasn't right. I was so fed up from all the accusatory emails, the name calling, the lack of respect and while I am still paying for his health insurance.  I am fed up for paying off his jeep, for paying for his trip to the wedding this summer, for running to his side if he needed me, while I was ignored much of the time.  Fed up for the years of repression, wild assumptions and mean things he has said to my daughter.  Fed up for every good intention being turned into a violation  or expectation.  I spit at him.  I did.  And I immediately hated myself for it.  Ugh. Why why why why. Why did I stoop to this?  I've been doing so good at not reacting to his crap.  He told me to get out and somehow all my books ended up on the ground.  I picked them up as he went inside. Somewhere in this he called me a whore.  Why, I am not sure.  Don't twelve year old boys do that when they aren't sure what it means, just that it's insulting?  Don't guys do that when you won't give them any?   Then I looked up to see him coming toward me and quickly put The Witching Hour out in front of me.  He came out to spit in my face.  But Anne Rice saved me with her big storybook.  He stormed back inside, leaving his dog bewildered and stuck outside alone.  I shouted twice that his dog was outside.  He didn't come out.  I left.  I saw him in my rear view mirror finally go out and get his dog.

I fumed all the way to my next stop.  I wished I had just chuckled his crap off.  But as I thought of how he needed to control the situation and make me go to his door for my books instead of having no contact as I'd asked for (it's easier and it sure would have avoided all of this).  I was mad at his need for control.  And my reaction to having to deal with it.  

I stopped at Starbucks on the way to my train and sat for a moment, composing.  I knew the right thing would be an apology - only for my behavior...no matter what HE did or said, I can only take care of things on my side of the fence.  By the Grace of God (because even God seems to have a limit as to how much energy can be used for this) I got his voicemail.  I spoke evenly, apologizing for my behavior but also saying why couldn't he have just put the things outside instead of needing to be controlling?  And that his mouth was going before he even opened the door.  And...that I don't even want to speak to him again.

I got a tall bold coffee with room, picked out some pomegranate vanilla cashews and a croissant and headed for the train. The rest of that story will be a different post.  I don't want to taint my trip with this nonsense.

He called my cell phone alone over 25 times.  He was calling it from 3pm until at least midnight. He figured out how to text from the computer and started texting me saying that I had major cleavage showing and making assumptions that I was seeing someone, even though I told him just yesterday morning that I wasn't.  Not that it was any of his business.  But he's the guy who will smear you all over creation and people will believe him.  His own therapist is duped in my opinion.  

Now somehow, he knew I wasn't home.  Nah, it's not that easy - I don't answer my phone or email him back when I AM home much of the time.  Something else was going on.  My hunch was that he was checking my driveway.  You have to go into my driveway to check it.  You can't necessarily see if I'm home by passing by.  He sounded so sure in his texts that he knew I wasn't home...that my daughter wasn't home on a school night.  He accused me of going out on a mother daughter date...of taking my daughter with me so I could go screw some guy (his words).  He claimed to have called the police on me and said that I could be arrested but that he chose not to press charges.  At one am, he attached a message to a statement about the insurance, saying not to cancel him just yet - he wanted to be tested for STDs now. The message attached to it saying that he could still have me arrested if he chose.  So he put an insurance statement in a sandwich with a possible arrest.  I have my own reasons for believing he didn't call the police and I won't divulge that here.  But it would be awfully surprising for him to want to be in touch with police.

STDs???  Can you get them from a toilet seat? The last person that I was with was him.  And unless he's taking home the trash, then he shouldn't have any worries.  He's just being insulting.

At one a.m., I heard a car pull into the driveway.  I had all my lights off thankfully, but for the Golden Girls.  Dorothy would kick ass, even dead I know she would.  I saw him view my car, turn around and leave.  He was stalking me, just as I knew he was.  Now how could he in the right frame of mind be doing this?  Over 25 cell phone calls to me?  How many went to my home number?  He called my mother three times while I was out.  She refuses to answer the phone for him.  We aren't even together and he is calling my mother late at night to harass her?

I emailed him right away and told him that if he ever stalks me again I will have him arrested.  

You have to realize, he has to blow into a breathalyzer to start his car.  His license is restricted.  I can probably have him arrested for violating his license privileges.  As well as stalking once I show phone records.  

This was someone that I cared about very much for so long.  Someone who is steadily declining.  I am trying desperately to get away from even speaking to him because we were not healthy together and something about him is provocative.  He provokes, goes on and on...accuses and takes out ads in the Superbowl with his fantastical assumptions.  I certainly don't hate him.  I need to get my own self healthy and not do it under the pressure of a split brain where one side is trying to reflect and heal while the other is shutting off ringers and deleting emails or defending my character.  The whole thing is really sad, embarrassing and at the same time very human.  I am hesitant to be this candid with my dirt but no one's life is perfect.  And this is my journey.  It's going uphill to steady from here.

What I love sometimes about writing these nighttime posts is that I have to sign out of the Gmail that I use to get to this account.  That means I won't be checking email.  Flip has got a multi-level magazine for loading and shooting out email after email.  And I only know that he is writing different ones because the wording is slightly different in some and then there is the time stamp. 

I sort of feel bad for him.  I always thought that he was touched with that salesman persona.  This worked in my favor when we had problems with Comcast or there was a customer service issue.  He always got his way and then some by the time he was done with someone.  But when he uses this same talent in an argument, it's rough on the person being sold their list of Deeds.  Sold?  Sorry, take out the magazine again.  Or cleats will do.  Take that list, crumple it up, impale it on a dirty shoe with cleats and get beaten with it for days.  And as I've said many many times, eventually torture works.  I have apologized many times for things that I didn't do (in the beginning) just to make it stop and get my Wire Monkey back.  I'd rather have had the affection at some point, even if it was a little, than none at all.  He used to withhold affection for an extended period of time during these fights.  Or even after apologies.  He would make me break a psychological sweat for it. 

He saw me sitting at a traffic light...he was going in the opposite direction.  I was first in line at the red light so I gave a half-hearted smile and wave.  I felt the air slow down...I saw his car slow down to what peripherally seemed like a crawl as he intently looked at me.  I spent a second looking at him....I don't enjoy being the center of attention when the light finally pops green.

***
Well for all of my nighttime love of blogging, I get pooped.  Especially if I don't have the icy colds with me.  So I tried writing the beginning of this post two nights in a row.  It's morning now and in between abusing my power and lording over the tiny kitten in order to keep her from constantly jumping up on the curtains, I am making mac & cheese (don't get excited...it's from a box) for Humanling's lunch tomorrow.  I do this now because I'm OUTTA here tonight, going to NYC.  

Bigger kitty just served little kitty all over the house after my last, "No!  Get down from there!".  I truly think she understands what I don't want little kitty to do and jumps in as my wingman so that I can continue to do those human tasks, like open cans of cat food.

So back to the story from the other day, I went home and fully expected to see an email from Flip because now there had been a public Even Though We Aren't Together sighting.  And I thought maybe there would be some commentary to go with the leering in traffic.  Sure enough....emails saying that it is clear by the look that I gave him that I don't love him, etc.  Hey, no offense but no one wants to be the unaware turd at the front of the red light line.  

He then said that he could drop off more mail that had arrived for me.  Huh.  The day before I had to go get my mail since he offered to bring it and then took it back after doing a Brady Girl on me, "Something suddenly came up".    

I told him he could put it in my mailbox since I was on my way back out.  Of course as soon as I get downstairs to leave for the track, sun lowering, making time all that much more precious, he is right there.  I think he's an evil hologram that fell off a piece of film and is lost, looking for his movie.  When I turned around he was Right There.  You could have drawn a chalk outline as to where he should be for maximum startling and he'd have been snuggly within it.  

Got my mail.  Then started to leave.  Then he had to question.  Suddenly it was every email he has sent me within the last month in a half starting all over again, as if the case in person was now going to convince me that his views were my views.  I decided that I needed to go and not stand there getting into this all over again.  I can't imagine during the last three years how close (seriously) I have put myself at risk for stroke during fights with him.  I damaged my eyesight during one fight because the yelling was top notch on both sides.  I couldn't see right for about an hour after that.  This is a big part of why I left...unhealthiness.  

As I walked away I heard him tell me again that I don't deserve respect from him.   My Ego could be in the middle of a massage from Brad Pitt and it would stand up and take notice of this statement.  I am so insulted by this.  I've done so much for him.  More than I've done for anyone else.  And I think that's how he gets it from me...he challenged me by having me believe that I wasn't committed enough or wasn't doing enough or trying hard enough.  So I committed more, stayed longer than I should have and tried beyond belief when it was clear to me how damaging the whole thing really was. 

The morning after the amended list of insults by email (there are always more emails....except for today so far...wonder if his Comcast has been shut off), he asks me how he can take advantage of a program on my insurance.  Seriously, I don't deserve respect from you and you want me to help you with something?  

I waver....not with him.  I'm done wavering with him and have been for awhile.  I wanted to leave this relationship a long time ago but kept in it due to a lot of pressure from him and due to me thinking that maybe this was where I should be and that I just needed to try harder.  I think if there is an argument brewing every week or two and they last for days, taking up a week or so every month, then no, for me it's not going to be ok.

Big Sigh.  

Onward. It's a new day and I have to get outside and change a brake light.  It's my first time.  I love google.  

Then later on off to NYC to the Strand to see Joyce Johnson.  Yeah!!!  My book has not yet arrived in the mail though (big boo of a bummer) but I do have another book by her and one with her in it so I'll bring an alternative to have signed if I can.  

Last Stop: My Mind Without Your Storms

Sitting outside on the stoop on a sunny and cool Saturday morning.  It's more cool of course when the sun powders its nose with a cloud.  The sweater goes on.  Then the sun is back out in full force and the sweater is a burden.  Humanling is playing the DSi, as we keep each other company.  A Thousand Welcomes on the radio stream.  One of those nice things that Flip did introduce me to.  This radio station, WFUV., that was usually on in our kitchen.  He did bring a lot of new and interesting things into my life.  I hope I did the same for him.  Unfortunately when communication is necessary, there is no Toast (see previous post).  And so I turn to my teacher, Thich Nat Hahn today to see if his offerings coincide with my Now.  Of course, his messages are usually needed at all times.  And what I am feeling lately, well by "lately" I guess I mean the last three years is what he summed up.  

I'll copy and paste but I know that when I do that, my loverly lavender color changes to white.  Here is today's find:

There are days when you feel that it’s not your day, everything goes wrong. And the more effort you make, the situation becomes worse. Of course you have gone through days like that in your life. You fail in everything, you suffer, you g

et angry, people blame you, you are not happy, you are frustrated. And you tell yourself that you have to make more effort, but the more effort you make, the worse the situation becomes, and then you know that it’s time to stop, it’s time to stop everything, it’s time to go home to yourself and take refuge in yourself. You have to close your windows, the eyes, the ears; you have to close the five windows. You should not be in touch with the outside any more; you have to close the windows of your hermitage. Because there is a hermitage within yourself – that is the island of self that I want you to discover. If you continue to be on the outside, then you continue to suffer, you know. That is why in moments like that, you have to go home to the island of self, and the first thing you do is exactly what I did with my hermitage, to close the five windows. And you know that eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind, are the six windows you close. Don’t look, don’t listen, don’t touch, and don’t think. Stop everything in order to prevent the strong wind from the outside to continue to blow in and to make you miserable, because the eye is a window, the ear is a window, the mind is a window, and if you keep them open, the wind of suffering, the wind of disturbance will continue to come and make the situation worse and worse. Don’t try any more. Stop trying and shut the windows. You shut also the door, and you have to go to the chimney and make a fire. You want to get a feeling of warmth, cosiness, and comfort by practising mindful breathing, going home to yourself. And rearrange everything, your feelings, your perceptions, your emotions, they are all scattered all over, it’s a mess. You have to recognise each feeling, each emotion, and you have to collect them like I collected all the sheets of paper that were scattered a little bit all over. Practise mindfulness and concentration, and tidy up everything within yourself. You are going home, you have gone home to your island of self, and you are transformed into a place that is cosy and pleasant for you to take refuge in. Everyone has a hermitage within, very safe, very cosy, very comfortable, very calm, and they have to go home to that hermitage.
If you rely on the outside, you get lost.

That is why you have to go home and rely on something that is reliable, that is the island of self.

With Flip, any communication basically was received wrong.  Maybe sometimes it was me saying it wrong.  I'm a better writer than speaker.  However, many times he just is in such a hut of hurt that he's walled himself in without openness to see possibilities of someone trying to reach out while being discontent but with love instead of malice.  I try to hit the restart button daily.  Some days I am better with it than others.  Some days I bite the bait but am content with myself to say that I have not followed my anger to places where I would be encompassed in a lesson of Advanced Regret.  So with all renouncement of I'm So Awesome, Look What I'm Doing, I do have to acknowledge my progress in dealing with reaction when it comes to him.  I'm not done though because I am still holding it inside and boiling.  I'm just not unleashing it on him in the ways that would have me spewing venom and then later on looking back and wishing that I hadn't.  He tests me though.  Severely.  Still with the name calling.  Still emails laced with vulgarity and vitriol.  I can respond in kind or do the hard thing and resist.  While I am aware of this test, I know that I have gone to my island as stated above.  Only I haven't shut off the outside.  I moved out months ago to get away from the barrage of negativity and that was step one.  Booking the island to go to.  Going there.  Now time to shut off the communication and emerge in a better state.  But because I feel bad for him with now, no car at all, I offered to drive him in any dire need - groceries, etc.  I don't think he will take me up on it since I did say that I shouldn't even offer due to his treatment of me.  Guess I could have left that part out.  

Guess really, I should leave out the whole part of communication with the "outside" that has been the noise, the environment, the weather of my life for three years and shutter my windows.     

   

Exit Stage Drama

I sit outside right now...possibly a Sunday ritual if sporadic events that are likely to happen on certain days can be a ritual.  The guinea pigs are on the lawn, enjoying what they can of the weather until it turns Evil for Guinea Pigs and gets cooler out.  My teenaged human is sitting across from me, adamant that she will sew the skirt that is ripped from here to the Alps.  I almost tried to take over but she really wanted to do it and I have that thought that I have nearly every single day - teach her so that she won't need you to do it.  Make her capable for the world, not needing to rely on others as much as is possible. 

I probably could trade in this mood for a better one.  Flip bombardments on email.  I finally said that I'm going to block him if he can't send something neutral to friendly.  It's just a bunch of attacks.  I was called a liar last night, today .... Blondzarelli.  Yes, it's true.  I'll wait while you finish laughing.  

But it's still name calling.  It's still what he used to flip out about so much...he'd freak out if there was any implication in the clouds or tea leaves that a name might be implied. Therapy, as mainly useless as it was, taught us, no names.  And so, I've done my best, no matter what temperature my blood goes to from his accusations and assumptions, his name calling, his taunting and weird mindedness, Not call him any names whatsoever.  Repeat:  even when it is happening to me.  Jesus = turn the other cheek and let him slap the other.  Buddha = compassion.  Thich Nat Hahn = Darling, you are not well.  I am here for you.  Tell me how I can help.

We're adults here, right?  You would think to yourself, well that's easy.  Until you're in traffic and someone cuts you off, right?  Well now imagine your are arguing with someone and they throw your kids into it.  Your kids are so (fill in the derogatory blank) because you made them that way.  Or No wonder your Kid so and so is such a (derogatory blank).  Now how do you answer this person?  Will these insults make you angry?  Or will you Zen your way through it and ride off on your unicorn?  Now imagine an argument with someone who is "helping" you raise this offensive child.  Hurts more than just anyone saying it.   Hurts on two counts...they are insulting your child and they are insulting you for creating such a rotten beast .  

Now ... new argument.  And out of nowhere you are being accused of things that came out of left field.  Then your spouse is suddenly telling you how great they were in bed with their former girlfriends and just go ask them.  He calls you the word....YIPES - THAT word...how does that make you feel? Will you go cry?  Fight back?  Punch him? Throw something?  Just leave?  What if the kid is asleep...will you just leave now?  What if he is following you around the house and you can get no peace.  Finally sleeping in your car, windows up, doors locked....now he's pounding on the window and telling you to get in the house and stop acting dramatic. So how hard is it to avoid name calling in these tasty and tempestuousness situations?  Grab yourself a a cone of Rocky Road and think about that. 

It's crazy making.  The brain will eventually fall into traps when its reality is tested over and over again.  How abducted people identify with their kidnappers.  How torture ends up brainwashing someone into admitting things that they never did to begin with.  I'd apologize for my part in Hiroshima even though I wasn't born yet, just to please get some peace....please stop screaming at me. Please stop storming through the house going on and on.  Please just stop keeping me up at night with your nonsense and when I tell you I need sleep for my job the next morning, you tell me that I think I'm better than you or more important because I have a job.  Please stop waking me up with your yelling after I've fallen asleep.  Yes, I'll apologize for anything to make it stop.  

I have gone very unladyish in my past dealings with Flip.  Mostly in the first year and a half.  Then I needed to change how I handled things.  I tried many things.  Eventually I settled on just being quiet altogether as much as I could stand in order to not have everything that I say held against me, twisted or pimped into something that I don't recognize in the least as being something that I would even entertain thinking.  

So after all this time, after all my restraint and trying to have compassion and trying to take the high road, it seems to do two things - make me grateful that I didn't freak out because it'd be more for him to ticket me on AND I just feel better not going there most importantly and two, makes my organs turn to ash inside because I am on fucking fire with how frustrating all of this is. 

And even through this character detonation I am getting, I leave him on my health insurance for whatever he needs.  I did give him a certain amount of time though and then it's done.  And while it's not about HaHa I can do you a favor, because I'm not getting a thing out of this except to be nice, it's about hey - have some respect for a person that doesn't have to help you any further but does, despite your constant slander and voice warm ups (Me me me me.....!)  Might I mention, health insurance is not free.  It is way affordable but I am paying at least $80 every two weeks because I have a plan that includes three of us.  

Wanna curb the Blonzarelli crap just a little?  Talk about ungrateful.  

A new bomb came today in the form of Spies.  He says that *Someone* told him that I talk to a lot of guys on Facebook.  I do have a steady handful that I comment with.  That being said, I have just as many females that are steady commentors as well.  It's called Conversation Among Adults.  I realize that insecure people might view every single member of the opposite sex as a potential Boogie Nights companion for me but the truth there is that I'm not with anyone.  I'm home with a kid, two cats and 2 guinea pigs at night.  I even got an email one morning asking me If I ever come home at night.  I don't have to come home -  I didn't go anywhere.  

I don't know what he bases his assumptions on (another thing he tears into me about if I were to do any of it, which I don't. I am well trained to watch my words) but he sounds like he's been swimming open mouthed in the kool-aid pool sometimes.

So as unfortunate as it is, I had to unfriend a couple pieces of the family.  I don't exactly know who would tell him such a thing about me having interaction with a bunch of guys because this is feeding the paranoia that he already has that they don't realize since they never lived with him.  I find the people that I unfriended to be otherwise, excellent, sweet people.  It's a shame.  But I also don't need to see any photos of him in their uploads either.  

My biggest problem is this:  Spying.  Even in living with him, he would go through my things and then email me at work about a potential *find* of some catastrophic wrong doing that was nothing.  He'd claim an old purse "fell over".  Or something was lying around.  I know that it wasn't.  He would just spy.  So now he has *spies* on Facebook.  Two of the main ones cut off from info supply tonight and I hated doing it.  But this is what happens I suppose.  I don't want drama and I don't usually, as a rule, air it out in status updates.  I made that mistake in the past.  

None of this is to say that I don't still, despite all of this apocalypse, still love him deeply or wish that things could be better.  Absolutely I do.  And it's the Higher Vision Robot that has taken over.  That keeps plowing forward and won't allow me to just stay with the comfort of what I know, just giving in to the time I've already put in with him and doing my best to keep us going, at the expense of who I fully am.  

The Last Aftershock to Record, I Hope

I had a little lesson in listening to my conscience.  No crickets with purchases from a haberdashery were involved.  And OMG – I am writing this post without a beer. 

I had a moment of the slippery slide of emotions that was so greased, I couldn’t keep ahold of it.  Granted, I held it long enough to edit the really unnecessary stuff out that were blatant indulgences from pent up years of feeling repressed, attacked and what would be the equivalent of an all night mindf*ck every night. 

On an unrelated note, and a brief one, why do I have do take the NPR media player out to dinner, desert and beg for it to play straight through while I use the internet simultaneously?  It’s like walking through a house of bubble wrap in brick shoes trying not to wake a baby.  *Conclusion of rant.

So I decided in this last very long round of Break-up Aftershocks to try try try and stick to the point, and at all costs, if I can’t keep myself from going off in a backward direction, to at least be respectful.

Not so much last night.  I suddenly found myself exhausted of all his special rules – when I first moved in, little by little I learned that if I acted certain ways or said certain things, I was going to trigger horrible fights.  Even trying to compliment him, I triggered fights.  (I still haven’t figured out how that works.)  I molded to what was needed to keep peace as much as possible (and it didn’t work many times but was good enough when it did).  It also meant biting my tongue, hiding my thoughts, not sharing who I really was in order to make the world that he seemed to want, available. He had a vision of how Things Should Be and I thought he was so smart and must be right.  When I caught on that maybe he wasn’t right per se, I found out that by challenging things, I would just make the household undulate in anger, resentment, blame and indignation.  Then there was me for a long time – confused.   

Flip never divulged his severe depression to me for over a year.  It wasn’t until I tried to leave him the first time that he fessed it up. The fact that he had been out of work for over a year, years earlier due to depression.  Maybe it would have helped to have known.  Instead he blamed me for everything and I had a hard time understanding his logic.  So much that I thought I was just aging faster all of a sudden.  My brain was in a fog.    

This all adds to a build-up.  All these things that have been put into my head – certain boxes – ok to do this, not ok to do this.  And then he does things that he would freak out if I had done.  Anyone can say, “Well, you don’t really know what he would do.”  Anyone in a long term relationship gets a little view into the patterns of their significant other.  Sometimes – rarely – they can be surprised by their partner’s reaction to things.  My guesstimate is that more often than not, you know exactly in what realm they will react.  Will they end blasted to Saturn from a freak out?  Or will they ground, take you into their arms and slather you in compassion?  I don’t know what that last one is.  That’s foreign to this relationship for me.  I had basically one person who this type of compassion came naturally to.  That was El. 

I’m not exactly sure whose emails he is reading but I certainly don’t think I am worthy of the comment telling me that I am psycho and “out there”  For such a smart guy, he never could understand points that I made during anything resembling a disagreement.  He rarely offers a reason as to why I deserve to live and breathe on the planet but is quick with the insults.  (See The List).  It’s only natural that I would ask him again - why are you hanging on to me, why do you want me – the Embodiment of Evil Who he says cuts him down constantly?  I’ve barely heard him say a bad word about his ex….he told me her Cosby Sweater “colorful” story but he told it in a gentle way, like he felt bad for her.  Through her serial cheating and drug addiction and child abandoning while on drug binges, at least he had compassion.  Always “Saint So and So is a good person” no matter what she did.  (I did resort to calling her Saint.  I did.  Can’t I be just a tiny bit bitter? Enough to be part of a cocktail?)  I am told how “bad” I am on so many levels. Even though financially I kept the household running for a couple of years and made sure he had health insurance for his many ailments and psychologist.  Even though I paid off his jeep so that he wouldn’t have a car payment (even though I still had one).  I’m still paying for the jeep.  I took the loan against my 401K and even though it’s been 2 years, it’ll be about 2 or 3 more.  I’ve been there for him through surgeries/procedures and to care for him afterwards.  I don’t know how to achieve his good graces at this point.  Flip hasn’t fessed up to any wrong doing or heart breaking at all. Instead I get the random email at night about how I’ve broken his heart.  Once again.  Geez hon, ever think there is a reason that I moved out twice and am so dissatisfied?  Ever think there is a reason that the cops had to be called in three of your relationships (ours thankfully did not have such drama grandeur). 

But this morning I have a Hate Hangover.  It feels like Restraint Failure to have gone outside my boundaries of what I would want to have actually said (as opposed to what I was really thinking) and diving right in to the emotional purge.  I admit, the plunge felt refreshing at the time.

So I decided to send a follow up email this morning to say that I apologize for the barbs but that the accusations are true for me.  I just could have stated it better the first time instead of the tar and feathering that I gave him last night.  I felt better apologizing for basically not speaking my feelings in a more respectful way.  Do you imagine that he returned my email with anything remotely warm, even 5 seconds on high in the microwave?  I believe I was called a horrendous, backstabbing blather-dee blah.  Something to that effect.  I fell asleep mid-insult. 

What exactly happened to cause all of this?  Oh so much over time I suppose.  I would have been hung by nosehairs and fishhooks if I had been conversing with my exes for one, but especially if I had said during the relationship that I outgrew that friendship, that I didn’t really need to be friends with that person anymore and then went further to run to them every time Flip and I separated, pouring my soul out to said ex.  How on earth this ex of his has such magical radar to suddenly call him whenever I’m out of the picture is unreal.  He was on the phone with me the other day and the other line rang.  He mind fumbled.  He said to me that he’d let it go to voicemail, then garbled what I had just said to him.  The conversation turned elsewhere in topic.  I drove it back because the red flag stabbing me in the gut was too sharp to ignore.  “Who was that?”  He paused and then said it was Saint, the ex.  He then went on to say that well he’d only spoken to her once – a couple of weeks ago.  So just once, right in all this time?  But that’s weird, she happened to call you in May as well.  That’s twice (that I know of).  Ok so minimizing the truth.  And attempting to let the call slide without saying anything.  Now in many other relationships, this sounds really like, so?  It probably would have here, had he “trained” me differently years ago.  But he trained me to cut off my male friends or deal with a lot of interrogation and unhappiness and withholding from affection.  No, he never Said to dump my friends.  Anyone who has been through the same thing will totally see how this works.  Then he mentioned that well, yeah, they call each other during hard times and so now, she has become Saint Shoulder.  Well that’s nice.  I’d love to see his reaction to the same situation if it were me.  Especially if the same ex kept recurring whenever we were apart.  And we’d just been nekked the night before. 

So things hurt. Or have been hurting or can hurt.  I can make decisions based on this.  I can go into that lull of rumination (oh wait, I did that here) and do the back and forth with him, fighting for my feelings to be validated, but they won’t be.  These feelings would have to go on a waiting list – there are still feelings from September of 2009 waiting to get in the Validation Club.  Or I can really just say, wow, I’m tired of talking about this.  Regenerate already!  Get out of this once and for all, erase the early 80s and start connecting with what is right now.  From there I can figure out who I want to be.  

Shhh...Body Language Only

Dare I try to write while the Humanling is awake?  And in the same room????  Well, I'm gonna.  Because I'm strutting today.  I'm feeling like me and Obama...are all bursting we YES WE CAN.    There may also be a cup of French Roast coffee from Starbucks involved.  

I fell off my chastity wagon.  I never wanted to climb on to begin with....I only ended up there because it was far away from my Flipddiction.  I caved and after one two many fruitless fantasies about the man that I've been with for three years, wrote a short email asking for bodily justice.  We've been fighting for a month.  How dare I.  Yeah...how dare I try to go there, to the only place where we are completely ourselves without judgement, without arguing or miscommunication or anything other than giving the Richter scale nightmares.  

He agreed to a visit but said he promised nothing.  His depression has been ordering furniture, new carpets and an in-law room...apparently its getting worse and is really gearing up to be around for a bit despite his meds.  I brought bourbon.  We talked.  We were emotional.  He didn't fight me but insisted he wasn't feeling sexy in the least as I led him and his drink to the bedroom.  His shirt came off with my help during his schpeel about why he wasn't sexy or feeling it.  

Then well....I know how to make it work. And it was like hitting a switch.  BAM!  I feel gluttonous. That's the problem with me.  He gives me a yard, I want a park.  (We do not speak in inches here).  Communication is back open.  Phone calls are no longer barred.  And just thinking about him makes me want to invent rules so I can break them.

He has plenty of reason to be the way that he is as far as circumstance goes.  He did bring a lot of this on himself.  Facing things way too late doesn't help.  If we could have had him on meds two years ago maybe we'd be different now.  

Regardless, I've learned so much through my relationship with him.  So much about people, about myself, about commitment.  I'm baffled - what is commitment really about?  Is it about not cheating?  About taking abuse?  About seeing through mistakes to shine in the end together?  I don't know still.  All I know is that the sighing school girl was back last night, leaning on my open car door after a goodnight kiss, watching him walk away as he went to lock up the chickens.