Friday, November 21, 2014

Some Stories Continue for Years.....

Funny TWM should mention my dad, or rather parents, in general, in his comments.  I actually spoke to Matt last night, at length.  The bulk of our conversation centered around our parents, our upbringing, expectations that seem so similar, but in reality are MILES apart.

(And this tangent was NOT something that came up last night while talking, it is something that two totally different things JUST NOW made me realize - like an A HA moment.  And my disclaimer: I am neither proud, nor was aware of my thoughts and actions in this regard.  At least, I was truly not consciously thinking/doing this.  I had such a great *excuse,* one that I believe was true for years, but slowly became a crutch that I just kept on believing.....)

The 2 things occurred simultaneously, which, you know, is a GOD thing: I was texting a guy friend that I met through work that I've been able to bounce ideas/thoughts off to get a male perspective and vice versa, AND I was pouring over twm's list in my comments from last night's blog.  I texted this friend, who has been somewhat kept updated on my life through both fb, talking and random txting: "Matt wants to talk.  I don't know if I am ready to talk.  We've texted the last couple of nights, and it went just as crazy and sideways as our conversations do.  Idk...should I talk to him?  I don't want to slide backwards...."

After chastising me on the pitfalls of ALL text conversations, and putting me in place by saying "only YOU can slide backwards, his words are not to blame - YOU know what is real and what is irrational." OK FINE.  POINT TAKEN. But than he said:

"It is my opinion that you should hear him out.  It's only right in a marriage that all avenues are explored, you know that.  He deserves to be heard simply as a right of marriage...."

"You do know that I am not actually legally married to him, don't you?  Or have I referred to him as my husband long enough that you just assumed I'd gotten married?"

"HAHAHAHA YES, of course I thought you were married.  That's funny, and that's a little different. I guess all is fair in dating, so I don't know. Probably I still feel you should hear him out since you love enough to say you're married.  Unless you want to move on and go out?" OMG, figures.  I am pretty sure he was kidding.  (And to my friend, in case he reads and isn't used to my writing - yes, I know I paraphrase, and shorten, but I keep to the truth of the conversation for the sake of brevity, it's easiest. Otherwise I would have to go back, check my phone, type word for word...not happening.)

So in this list of twm's, one item that I have to object to, and take responsibility for, is the marriage one.  I am the one who did not/does not/maybe not ever/kind of want now/but kinda maybe not want to get married.  Looking back, I realize WOW.  This...this absolute/yet "maybe one day*/so I guess I don't really know objection to marriage absolutely (and pathetically) keeps me in a position of unfair control.  If I always *own* the home, if I never take a vow, I always have a way out.  *Take it or leave it, I'll deal with it either way.*  And it so unknowingly and unwittingly encouraged by friends and family who know how strong I am on my own, I've always been encouraged to believe for that reason - I am independent.  When I wasn't, I got really sick and drank.  Keeping my independence keeps me strong, thus healthy.  For sure, 100% good, honest intentions.  ESPECIALLY by my female friends or coworkers who are staunch feminists or cynical and scorned in one way or another.

I hate when I look in the mirror and recognize a disappointing truth about myself that I justify with rational beginnings- "I don't want to get married again, because I never want to go through the pain of divorce again."  Reality check for DM: *I don't want to get married again because I know YOU do, and I can sorta hang on to that, well, for as long as I want.  Which means YOU never get to be comfortable.  YOU always have to WANT me more than I want you.*  It's the exact same thing moms  tell their daughters "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?"

SUCH a true, and selfish statement.  Why?  Why, indeed, take that vow again and essentially hand over any of the control I can so tightly hang on to?  Why offer you the sanctity of marriage when I can slowly drive us both crazy, even as unintentional as it is?  Why give YOU a key I can't take back any time I want?

I have no good answers when I put it like that.

NOT that I am saying I am getting married.
NOT that I am saying this thought process was purposely as evil as I just put it.
But I have to admit to it being a key role, probably THEE KEY role, I had in assisting in Matt's distorted emotions and confusion, ultimately leading us to such inequality, crazy started happening.  When Matt says to me "you have your role in this, too!" and tries to find ways to twist things, ends up screaming and yelling about things that aren't based in truths, when he ultimately loses his cool and is outright mean, what is really happening is that he KNOWS there are reasons he is not 100% to blame, KNOWS I, too, have contributed to the demise of any sort of equal partnership, he just cannot put a NAME to it.  Nor could I really, when it's so easy to say "I wasn't the one incarcerated!  I am not the one laying on the couch all the time!"

It's really hard for any person, other than perhaps a trained professional to say "hey, there are other reasons for this dynamic being so off track other than Matt's obvious behavior and circumstances that have led you two here.  Matt has no control over anything.  Nothing at all.  And what you think is *helping him* is not helping, but exacerbating the unfairness.  Doesn't your *support* arm you with weapons, even if you don't actively use them?  The mere existence of them is detrimental. The entire set up is basically the perfect equation for emasculation."

Case in point: had he been here this past week, I would have nagged and nagged that he go to the doctor, *knowing* he wouldn't until I made the appointment myself.  Yet - not given the opportunity to wait for MY HELP, he did indeed go to the doctor.  He got some sort of shot (that part wasn't really talked about in length...) and scheduled his MRI for Tuesday.  Without ME there to drive him, or figure out how he should get there, driving as little as possible, I am sure he will figure it out.

I know this, because I wasn't always there SAVING HIM.  Not like this. As friends, and in the first 6 months, I didn't HAVE to do everything.  At some point, my extreme *capableness* (LOOK WHAT I CAN DO: EVERYTHING, AND ALL BY MYSELF, TOO! SO THERE!) was an amazingly effective catalyst to his extreme *incapableness* - an oddly fascinating phenomenon, if I do say so myself.

And don't get me wrong, I did not kick him out "for his own good" or as "tough love" because I am so smart, I knew all this.  (Not at all. Nope.) I NEEDED him to move out FOR MYSELF to breathe and stop the insanity.  I knew it was the best thing for both us of to break the weird, vicious cycle we were in, but I guess I didn't truly realize my part because I was too busy defending what he was telling me was my part. I was too busy telling him he was crazy to help determine WHY he was crazy.

Neither of us had the insight to realize that with these set of circumstances, we were doomed to this. He had to find reasons just to keep telling himself he WASN'T the only one to blame.  I kinda, sorta get that - because we are both addicts - and THAT is addict thinking and behavior.  Stir in a little jail, some depression, several types of medication, an injured arm and one very independent woman: FUCK.  What an awful, click, click.  That is the sound of things making more sense to me.  Not exactly a defense to everything - but at least I understand my part.

*I am totally going to make a wonderful marriage counselor one day.  When I stop being such an AMAZING banker.*

And no - there has been no talk of him moving back in, but he did ask if I would please try therapy together.  That is the only way I think we'd have a shot, if we haven't lost our completely.  Our story continues to be written....

Back to what I was originally going to write about, our parents, our expectations, etc:

I totally understand how we were both looking for our idea of family.  Only, our idea of family was so vastly different, we were both destined to be profoundly confused and disappointed.

For instance: yes, we were both raised in blue collar, suburban families with parents who are still married.  However: it occurred to me one night that his mother never worked.  I mean, never worked outside the home - which means she worked a lot, but probably no one ever saw all the work she did, it was just done.  This allowed Matt's dad to have the luxury of working all day and coming home to relax and drink.  Dinner ready, chores done, Mr. G's contribution to the *house* consisted of man things, probably done on the weekend, like fixing a leak in the roof and mowing the lawn.

I watched my mom and dad work, come home, work some more, and than also doing the all the *man things.*  I am sure my mom did more *housework* because I remember random outbursts when she would reach her limit, start yelling at everyone and we would all quietly, heads down, start doing the stuff that we should have always helped out with, but really only did it when we were told.  I also know my dad got better at this, growing up? maybe?  A few things were considered *man* jobs, but my mom did a lot of extra stuff, too - my mom was the only parent who ever painted a room, for instance.  Car things?  Hands down, always my dad.  Grilling? Man thing.

And neither of them drank.  And the *screaming* fights were few and far between.

Throw in the fact that for years, I have been a SINGLE mom - handling ALL of the housework AND all of the extra stuff that I either couldn't find help for, or couldn't afford to farm out.  I did my best in figuring it out - paying for as much to be done for me (allowing me more kid time) and taking on harder things as *challenging dares* to myself.  Eventually, it just became my life: acceptance of doing as much as I could and what slipped by? Meh, I valued my privacy enough that very little people ever had the pleasure of observing my disastrous laundry rooms and always messy garage. But I became so damn independent, I very very much looked forward to having help.  AS IN; I very much looked forward to having someone like Bumpa here with me to do his part.

Matt probably very much looked forward to having someone like his mom around, to do her part.

Talk about a disaster waiting to happen.

Yep.  Neither one of us are either of those people.

Lots of writing, lots of thinking, and probably lots more to come.

I am tentatively planning on doing dog hunting tomorrow.  That has nothing to do with anything else, but I had to end on a light note.

Just sayin.'

PS - the writing was so much, I am back to my Publish and edit later case I missed a bunch of words or anything.....

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Snow and More Confusion

I had a strange flashback today while I was shoveling the entire length of my driveway and praying I would make it the entire way without passing out. 

I thought *THIS feels exactly like when I moved into the first post - divorce house. Every challenge spurred on a I can do this, nothing beats me* feeling. I felt strong and independent.  

I also felt lost and lonely. And when it got dark, the nightly sadness moved in. (And I always think of my sister when I start to feel it.)

I also thought *I liked having a family better.* Because I just do. But....oh, everything about that is just so confusing. 

Just sayin. 

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Just Fucking Pissed at Life

Just wallowing in a pity pot of shame, frustration, sadness, and most of all: plain old heartbreak.

(But FYI: SOBER.  Very fucking sober. JSYK)

I have honestly been trying to watch what I write because 1. I really hate the fact that I put so much faith in someone, loved someone so much, truly believed a solid 5 year friendship was a trustworthy foundation, so I am just so pissed at knowing how many times I DEFENDED him, STOOD by him, LOVED that I felt LOVE again - just to be proven wrong on so many levels. 2. Because *What if he reads my blog? I can't say too much, because it is so easy to go past the point of no return. (OVER THAT ONE TONIGHT.) and 3. because what if I DID accept him back into my life?  Than I put all the things OUT THERE in the world and would go right back to defending him.

Perhaps, just perhaps, those reasons, those doubts SHOULD be written to PROTECT myself from delusion again.  Maybe I SHOULD start getting everything out - so that I DO pass the point of no return.

One thing I said to my dad, when I started crying at all the shit I was pissed at myself about was this "Matt is so much more like dh than I ever imagined."  To which, he of course, "well you fell for him for a reason...."

What is it about manipulation that pulls me and keeps me at a point I would NEVER stay at in other circumstances??  The stupidly obvious answer of "Um, because you are being manipulated."  DUH.

I left men for making a grocery list at my house, for telling me they loved me, shit: for drinking - even when I really loved that one and he was, after all, a gazillionaire.  But I could always sense the writing on the wall.  And for YEARS, I just wouldn't tolerate bullshit. 

I know, I know, I was vulnerable, I needed someone, everyone was in pain, you trusted him for years...I KNOW there are a shit ton of reasons I let my misplaced faith go on way too long, but in the end, I really enjoyed the thought of having a family again.

I am starting to equate me being vulnerable with me being instantly STUPID, too.

So tonight I start the cathartic resolve to write the stupid shit that makes me feel ashamed, embarrassed, and downright STUPID.  And than maybe I will get to the point of no return, let the tears flow more freely than they have been, stop trying to be strong, GRIEVE for a few weeks and than re-build myself into the strong intelligent person I know I am.

Last night:
Matt: I miss you so much, I love you so much, blah blah blah.
Me: I don't really know what to say to that except I have always loved you, too.  But, I mean, this is what we need.
Matt: I need to ask you a question, though.


Matt: I need to know if I should sign a one year lease or if, in a couple weeks, you'd be willing to try again.  I would really hate to put a deposit down, sign a lease, just to lose money if we have to break to move back in together....

Me, but to Bex:  He has MONEY??  Because the gas bill came in today.  Oh and so did all the other bills I'VE BEEN paying while he slept incessantly on the couch.

Matt: You don't have to decide tonight or anything, I'm just trying to figure out my life since I thought I would be living there and all.  I just want your opinion.

Not yet, you don't, trust me.

So I reply: Honestly, before I could even contemplate helping you make that decision, I need to know 2 things: do you honestly love me or am I just a good friend you love and like to live with? (I left out "because who doesn't like to be supported and fully defended and loved, I mean, I would LOVE THAT.) And if you really feel like you are madly, deeply, truly in love with me, the only way I think we could begin working out our issues is in counseling.

THAT began a tirade of txts that alternated between me being to blame for him being homeless to how much he loves me. It was so maddeningly confusing that my requests for him to stop fell on deaf ears and I went to bed LATE, sleepless and well, more than a little pissed as the veil began to slip away.


Me: Well, you said you'd do anything to just start, so if you want to me meet me at the house in case the boys and I can't get up the driveway, than that would really help. I don't want to mislead you, but I don't really know anyone close, and you said you wanted to start helping.

More and more veils began to slip, slip, slip away.....

I really want to help but I have to help my brother.


I mean, I also don't want to risk driving too much anymore, so as much as I WANT to come help, maybe another night?

Probably not.

Well, I really don't want to drive too much, it's such a risk.  If I came to help you with the driveway, I'd probably want to stay the night just to be safe.

There is a sofa here still.

Why would I sleep on a sofa when it hurts my shoulder so much?  Plus, I HAVE a bed here!  I HAD a bed there!  You want me to risk jail again, drive over (5 miles) (don't even get me started) to help you when I didn't want to move out in the FIRST PLACE? I would BE there to help if I wasn't HERE.

But he wouldn't be helping, he'd be telling me what tools he didn't have that would make his life so much easier, therefore he could and would help more.

And despite me telling him nevermind, like 400 times, Riley and I already had the driveway FINISHED as he kept flip flopping between the blame, the darts, the hurtful remarks, how demanding I am, and how much he claimed to love us all.

THAT my friends, is how one gets sucked in over their head.  You only want to believe the nice things, you start justifying the bad behavior, than you pray the nice things win out just so you don't have to admit how WRONG you are.

Damn, it's a painful, vicious cycle.  TWO THINGS: Therapy and medication. 
For him, not me.  Well, ok, for me, too.  But I've been doing that for years, so....

OK, enough for one night.  I am going to watch my favorite show with the boys and start re-building. One fucking pissed off night at a time.

Just sayin'.