I’ve made a huge mistake

Dammit. When will I learn?  It wasn’t the dogwalker who shared my old blog with my daughter. It was her actual mother.

Honestly that was my first thought. The first wife, mother of my stepdaughters has many many many times hurt the kids to try to get at me or my ex-hubby. My daughter had contacted me after I wrote about her father marrying the dog walker and said the dog walker had shared the blog with her, but that wasn’t true.  She was protecting her mother, I guess.

Anyway.. I was dead wrong and flew off the handle and blamed the dog walker for shit she didn’t do. Evidently she also has a moral compass and wouldn’t ever do that to my daughter or to my ex, her new husband. She was evidently blind-sided too.

It does not escape my notice that if I were less reactive and hadn’t just believed everything and blamed the dog walker all willy nilly that I wouldn’t have this situation of eating crow. I’m adding that to the list of my wrongs and things to work on.. or rather moving it up the list I guess. It was already on the list.

Fucking emotions! Do you see why it’d be great to be a nice logical vulcan?

heart-and-brain

Heart and Brain by 9buz at 9buz.com.

It’s hard

I can’t stand being emotional and hurt by other’s emotions.

I hate it when the people I love are angry and distant and strange.  I hate it. I spent half of July 4th not understanding why Traveler was being grouchy and surly. He kept asking me where a wine from his basement was from and I kept saying I don’t know, maybe Quinky bought it? It looks like it’s from Oregon?  It’s from 2008, were you there then? It says it’s from Oregon. Look, the winery is in Oregon.

He snapped that he knew it was from Oregon and I’d said that 5 times, and I walked upstairs like a kicked puppy. Continue reading

Conflict

“One thing you who had secure or happy childhoods should understand about those of us who did not. We who control our feelings, who avoid conflicts at all costs, or seem to seek them. Who are hypersensitive, self-critical, compulsive, workaholic, and above all survivors. We are not that way from perversity, and we cannot just relax and let it go. We’ve learned to cope in ways you never had to.”
Piers Anthony

I hate conflict.  But I also sometimes create it or add to it.  Sometimes my feelings bubble up and I can’t hold them back and they come spilling out in a mess.  And I spend a LOT of time apologizing for that when it happens.  I know how much it sucks, and for someone who hates conflict it is the literal worst.  It feels like I betray myself.

Otherwise, I avoid conflict with anyone I care about. Even if it has nothing to do with me.  Even if I have a legitimate beef with you… Even if I caught you lying.. if you were mean or unfair or cruel.. even if you were the one that treated me badly, my tendency is to want to take the hit if it will just end this gnashing of teeth.  The FIRST thing I think when anyone I care about is upset is, “what did I do?”  I apologize for my feelings.  I apologize for wanting.  I apologize for being a mess and for needing.  I apologize for having felt hurt.   Continue reading

Where I'm Standing

I’m in the last week of my first quarter of grad school and I’ll warn you that I don’t have the bandwidth to edit this much, and probably shouldn’t even write it.  School is owning my reading and writing these days.  But I need to put stuff somewhere and get to bed.

I’ve felt wrung out much of the last few weeks, looking at the injustices and evil of things and learning so much about all the stuff I didn’t know and knowing I’ll never stop learning.  We got it wrong.

And I’m stressed and tired and a little too emotional because I don’t have the reserves now that I did.  It’s easy to boil over and sob in my car because I promised myself in the coffee shop that I’d cry about this stuff later.

And I thought it’d be nice to look a teeny bit at finding a friend for sexy fun times.  This was a HUGE error in judgement.  I woke up my OkCupid profile and my AFF and whatever else and met a sea of sickness.  Misogyny and entitlement and waves of bullshit meet you if you admit you’d maybe like a lower stress sexy fun friendship with someone.  No matter what I actually say there is a SEA of dudes that evidently see this as an open invite to cut and paste whatever horror they like to send women, complete with the 57000 dick pics they all have laying around for unsolicited viewing.  And they’re mad because this isn’t working.  “Why are those bitches on the internet who say they wanna fuck being such cunts about it?  They write articles about the terrible oppression of men dating online. Continue reading

Nightmares and echos

I don’t know.  I don’t know.

I keep rankling and I can’t really seem to even put it into words.  I can’t. I can’t. I thought and thought about what would make me happy and that was me.  I make me happy. Always. no excuses. no shortcuts.  radical.

I think and think all the things that went wrong, that could go wrong and that did and could again.  I cling to promises and words that evaporated when you were asked about them, meaning I guess that you didn’t really want them. were you placating them? me? I ask over and over and over again if I’m a fool. am I a fool? is this stupid? foolish? wishful? willful?

You told the truth and it broke me and you learned to tell a lie.  or maybe you were finally honest?  with you? with me?  I don’t know. You said this to me and that to her and nothing to anyone else.  Because you were trying to spin the sugar, but it’s so fragile and I can’t get purchase.  It have no scaffolding, no spine.  You’ll say what I need you to, what they need you to, and never what you mean.  I’m afraid.  What if you said what you mean?  What would break then? someone.

What if everyone actually said what they mean?  All these webs of spun sugar, spun glass, brittle, crack. Continue reading