Music of the moment: Amish Paradise : Yankovic

I�m planning a much shorter entry today. That doesn�t mean that it�s going to be short, just that I�m planning it that way. *chuckles*

I attempted to re-read my entry from yesterday, but I got so bogged down in the prattling that I just skipped over most of it. *rolls her eyes* Isn�t that what you guys do? *grins*

I spent a large part of this afternoon with my sister. *chuckles* Perhaps that�s the reason I think my previous post was such pathetic drivel. I love my sister. I really do. But I�m so damned tired of hearing about how the world has done wrong to her; how she has been so abused by the way the system works. She complains about these same things nearly every time we converse.

I wonder what happened to the woman I saw for a month at the end of August. She was so filled with peace and contentment. She was so... soft. But now, she back to her hard, bitter exterior once again.

That, of course, spurs in me some additional introspection (interspection? I know spell check will catch it, but still... [I was right the first time, woohoo]). I wonder if things are really as different as I think they are with myself.

Music of the moment: Asshole Son : Yankovic

I see such differences in myself. In my daily attitudes and my interactions with people. I see such a different picture of who and what I am, and I wonder if I�m just fooling myself again. I�ve seen improvements in myself many times before. Granted, they were extremely small improvements, but they were improvements all the same.

Music of the moment: Bohemian Polka : Yankovic

I wonder if perhaps I�m just... fooling myself. This is a serious request folks... Perhaps I�m fishing for compliments, but if so, just humor me. I would honestly, and yes, I mean honestly, like to know if you folks have seen any difference in what I portray, in my attitudes and persona on-line.

I think about one of Davey�s recent entries where he talked about not wanting to brag very often. I wonder if my own perception of growth is a form of internal bragging. Is asking you readers to comment on whether or not you�ve seen a difference... is that a form of bragging?

*shrugs* Oh well. Whether it is or not, I would really appreciate some comments, either on the Notes page, the Guestbook, or on the new message board.

Music of the moment: Gump : Yankovic

Oh, didn�t I tell you? *grins, knowing full well she didn�t tell* I started a new message board. The link to it and all is at the very bottom of this page, but I�m going to be adding a link up at the top there. *points*

The purpose of this message board is not for specific conversation about this diary, but if any of you have anything you�d like to say, ever, just come to the message board. I�m going to promote it for more than just this diary. I want to make it a message board for basic conversation, rather than just strict diary-related issues.

That�s my latest kick, in case you didn�t realize it.

Music of the moment: It�s All About The Pentiums : Yankovic

I really like the message board forum. Or as most of you �Old Schooler�s� call them, BBs. Yeah, yeah, yeah, bitch all you want. So I�m a little slow. Sue me. *grins*

Anyway... what I wanted to really convey yesterday was NOT what came out. I didn�t want to be bitching and complaining about how Duncan made me a loner. *rolls her eyes* He didn�t. He did make choices and he made demands that I thought were inappropriate. BUT, and this is the important part, I acquiesced

Music of the moment: Pretty Fly For A Rabbi : Yankovic

I made the choice, day after day, to give up. I made the choice to put Duncan�s words/wants/interpreted needs ahead of mine. I gave up everything I was, voluntarily, because I thought that�s what I was supposed to do. That doesn�t mean I was right. That doesn�t mean that the way I was raised was bad. That doesn�t mean that Duncan was bad.

It means that I didn�t place a high enough value upon myself.

I fully believe that it takes two to abuse. It takes one to do the abuse and one to receive it.

Music of the moment: Star Wars Cantina : Yankovic

I believe that after a certain age, it becomes the responsibility of the abusee to realize that they are worth more. It is not necessary for the abusee to accept the abuse. Now, I fully and completely understand fear and motivations. I understand that when someone is hitting you, it�s hard to say to yourself, �Wait a minute, I�m better than this. I don�t have to take this shit.� I fully and completely understand that it�s really hard to look your abuser in the eye and say, �You�re not taking my needs seriously.�

Hell, I understand that it�s virtually impossible to stop and or get away from abuse when it�s happening.

Music of the moment: Yoda : Yankovic

And I do not, under any circumstances, expect someone who has been abused all their lives, to recognize their own value. And I do not, under any circumstances, expect an abusee to take the blame for the abuse. That is not my point at all.

However, when one is an adult, they MUST take responsibility for their own choices. For those men and women who stay in abusive relationships, they must make a choice. They must have the presence of mind to decide whether or not the benefits they receive from the relationship are worth the negatives of the abuse.

I don�t expect an abused man or woman to wake up one morning and say, �Wait a minute. You mean, I have the right to personal choice? Oh, forgive me for thinking that because I�m getting my face/emotions/heart bashed in every day, that I was worthless. So sorry for reacting to the stimulus.�

There are many steps to overcoming abuse. There are many more steps to realizing that you need to.

Music of the moment: Windows 95 Sucks : Yankovic

BUT, once someone realizes that they are worth more than just being abused, it becomes their responsibility to get away from the abusive situation. Abuse is such a .... volatile topic, isn�t it?

My ex was not physically violent. And, he was not intentionally mentally or emotionally abusive.

Music of the moment: Will The Real Slim Shady Please Shut Up : Yankovic

There are some people out there who are intentionally abusive. For those people, I have some highly negative things to say. I�m not going to say them today, however.

Music of the moment: Which BackStreet Boy Is Gay : Yankovic

For those who are completely ignorant of their abuse, as was my husband, those are the people (and those who receive their specific kind of abuse) to whom I am speaking today.

Music of the moment: The Saga Begins : Yankovic

There are some people who are so confused and confounded by the situation they�re in, that they don�t have the foggiest idea how to change it. As with my Ex, he was so confused and confounded by the differences in his life, in his work situation and in his new wife, that he didn�t have the foggiest idea how to handle it all.

He was used to being told what to do, when to do it and for how long. Hell, he was in the Navy from High school graduation until a month before we got hitched. He didn�t ever develop those independent skills that so many do between high school and college graduation.

Duncan liked me when he met me. Why? Because I was a no-bullshit, take charge kind of woman. Hell, the night we met I told him my rules. I would not sleep with him. I would not have any kind of sexual relationship with him in any way. I was saving that for marriage. I told him that I would date him and go out with him any day of the week but Friday. I said that I went to church on Saturdays and he was welcome to spend Friday night and Saturday with me, but we wouldn�t go out until after sundown Saturday night.

Music of the moment: Tears In Rain : Satriani

When he did something I didn�t like, I told him so. I wasn�t cruel, but I also didn�t put up with his attitude when he pitched a fit. He pitched fits very, very rarely. I had such an independent spirit. And he really liked that. He was attracted to me because I was �soft� (his word) and because I knew what I wanted.

*laughs softly*

Music of the moment: Rain Man : Hans Zimmer

After we got married, I changed. I went all submissive on his ass, because I believed that�s what I was supposed to do. I fought every ounce of dominance in my body because I thought I was supposed to submit to him. I thought he was supposed to make the decisions.

He was willing, he just didn�t know how. He didn�t know how to take charge. He never had. *smiles softly*

He knew how to be a grunt. He knew how to do what he was told, when he was told. He knew how to do it really well, too. But he didn�t know how to make decisions for himself. He especially didn�t know how to handle being responsible for the woman he remembered as being a tough, strong, competent entity.

So, when I talk about how I hurt him; when I talk about how he wasn�t the bad guy in our failed marriage; when I say that I have no bad feelings about him or about what he �did� to me, that�s what I�m talking about.

I�m not saying that he didn�t do things wrong. But I sure as hell didn�t do everything right.

When one stops being who they are because they THINK that they�re supposed to be something else... *shakes her head* The relationship can�t work.

There�s an old adage that says a woman marries a man expecting him to change and a man marries a woman expecting her not to. But, the man doesn�t, and the woman does.

That�s so true in my case.

I really expected Duncan to be... something other than he was. I had no concept of seeing what was there and accepting it to remain that way. I think I learned that from my mother. Hell, to this day she still grouses about how Dad still doesn�t understand.

So, I turned what I was telling her back upon myself. He won�t change. You keep expecting him to be something other than what he is. If you want the bills paid regularly, if you want financial security, get a job and pay your bills. He will always be squeaking in just under the wire.

She still doesn�t believe me. She�s seeing it a little more clearly now. She�ll be 60 in July. She still, however, expects some magic change to take place. She still expects him to be the man she built him up to be in her mind.

===My Mom and Dad (step-Dad, remember) met through a personals ad in a church newspaper. She lived in Ohio, he lived here in Washington. They corresponded via mail, tapes and phone calls for approximately 6 months or so. In that time, they exchanged more than 1000 pieces of mail. No lie, no exaggeration. I have seen more than 20 cassette tapes. I have seen three scrap books filled with cards, letters, notes, cartoon clippings.

She was his Sunshine. He was her Wile E Coyote. He sent her a Coyote hide rug. She still has it. They talked weekly. They wrote daily. They fell in love over the mail and phone. He asked her to marry him over the phone. She said yes. About a month later or so, she came out to Washington for the first visit. That�s the first time they�d ever seen each other. Dad told her, after two days, to go back home, that it was a mistake.

She prayed about it. They prayed about it together. She stayed the rest of the two weeks. He decided to go ahead with it. She went home. About a month later, he came out to Ohio, met us and got married to her. We then drove across country to Washington to live.

Dad told her, during their correspondence, that he was the Vice President of Marketing for an up-and-coming computer company (I will leave out the name because they have long-since fallen by the wayside). And that was true. In the pictures that Mom sent, she showed just average pics. Dad took pics in his tuxedo... powder blue, ruffled shirt. *laughs*

Keep in mind, folks, this was back in 73 and 74. Powder blue tuxes were perfectly okay.

Regardless... the point I�m trying to make here is that because they corresponded and fell in love over a distance, without actually seeing each other face to face, Mom didn�t meet the real and honest man. He didn�t meet the real and honest woman. They met honest and earnest people, but there are things that you just don�t ever pick up if you don�t have that day-in-day-out face-to-fact contact.===

Now, the folks are still married, but not because they haven�t had enough reasons to get divorced. They�re still married because they love each other. I�m not talking about the paltry, Hallmark version of �love�. That�s nothing more than hormones and feelings. I�m talking about real and true love; a commitment to something more important than either of them are separately.

There have been many times when Mom was so fed up she wanted out. But, because she wasn�t going to go through the work of starting over again with someone else, she decides to stay. She loves him. She would give anything for him. But, she also puts the relationship before herself or him.

That doesn�t mean that she doesn�t bitch often and vociferously about his short fallings. And my father? What does he do? *rolls her eyes* He ignores her.

And who do I take after? Give you one guess. And if you get it wrong, I�ll laugh.

I�m exactly like my Father. No lie. I don�t bitch, I don�t nag, I don�t complain. I ignore.

That was the problem with Duncan and myself. He was just like my mother. *laughs* He complained and bitched and groused. Before we got married I told him that I didn�t clean; That if he wanted a clean house, he would have to hire a maid or do it himself. I don�t think he believed me. *chuckles*

He once, after I quit cleaning and cooking, asked me why I didn�t do it anymore. I told him, point blank, �Because you left your shit all over the floors and counters. I told you before we were married that I didn�t clean. I suppose you didn�t believe me despite the pictures.�

===Yes, there is actual pictorial documentation of my lack of the cleaning gene. *grins* There are pictures which we have and keep, which show my room in various stages of decomposition *smirks* over the years, from about 12 through about 23. Seriously. And these pictures were shown to Duncan with my Mother saying more than once, �Seriously, she doesn�t clean. Her room is always a mess.� *laughs* He didn�t believe. The poor sap.===

Now, in my own defense, since we moved into this house, my room isn�t as bad as it has been before. Sympatico, you can actually see the WHOLE carpet. *grins* The dresser tops are another thing entirely. *grins* However, my messiness is currently being restricted to the dressers and my computer desk. And I think I could actually get this room spotless (vacuum the floor, dust, put everything ON the dressers IN the dressers) in about 4 hours. That�s an incredible improvement.

*grins*

Woah, talk about off topic. *laughs*

Anyway, Duncan would often bitch at me about cleaning. He groused and nagged about it all the time. I just ignored him. Once I asked him why he continued to bitch at me about it. He said, �I figure if I bitch long enough, eventually you�ll change.�

*shakes her head* My reply? �Figure the odds, bubba.�

He didn�t like that reply.

But it was the truth.

I didn�t change until I wanted to. He bitched and threatened and wailed and I ignored. He withdrew and I still ignored. He stopped picking up at all (not like he was actually �cleaning� he would pick up his laundry when he couldn�t find anything else he could wear) and he only washed the dish he would eat on. That was fine by me. I wasn�t eating anymore anyway.

And, I didn�t need clean clothes as I never did anything outside the house anyway. *rolls her eyes*

Man, we were both so very fucked up, so stupid and so childish.

Regardless, when he bitched, I ignored. He asked me one night, how to talk to me. He asked me, if I didn�t want to do something, how would he be able to get me to do it.

I told him, �Ask me to do it for you.�

He didn�t understand. He tried telling me that he needed me to do thus and such. He tried bitching and nagging. Then, one day, out of the blue, he asked me politely, �Hey Jen, I need a clean pair of coveralls, would you be willing to dig up a couple and wash them for me?�

I nodded. He left for work and I went through the house, gathered up all the coveralls I could find. I then went through his piles of clothes and selected a few pair of jeans, some underwear and some T-shirts. I spent the day washing, drying and folding his clothes. When he got home, they were folded neatly upon his side of the bed.

When he asked me to help, I helped and did more. When he told me to help. I ignored him.

So, how will that change in the future?

How will my future relationship be different?

There�s a guy in Seattle who has initiated a friendship with me. I enjoy him and I enjoy the conversations we�ve had. They are very few, and they scare the shit out of me. Why? Because I like him so far. So you guys are sitting there, staring at your monitors wondering what in hell my damage is. I�m scared that I like him because I don�t want to move too fast. I don�t want to fall in love with him and then have him hurt me.

But the point... what am I doing differently with him that I haven�t done with anyone in my past? I�m telling him, point blank, what I�m thinking about. If I�m scared, I tell him so, and why. If I�m happy, I tell him so, and why.

I like him. I think he�s a nice guy. My like of him, however, stops at like. I enjoy our conversations and that�s as far as it�s gone. I�m taking a page out of Charles� book and I will not allow myself to think about anything other than friendship until after we have spent time face to face.

We have talked about meeting face to face. He�s eager to do so as am I. He won�t take anything more than friendship until after we�ve met face to face. I respect that greatly.

So, in this next month, I�ll be going up to Seattle for a day or two. Maybe I�ll spend a week with my grandmother. The first week of February is Grandma�s 78th (82, but she�s counting backwards now) birthday. She�s been wanting me to come up and spend some time with her. I think I would like to do that. I�ll spend the week with her and spend Saturday in Seattle with Dave, maybe.

If I�m not too chicken to meet him face to face. The net does give me a tremendous freedom. I don�t have to do anything I don�t want to on-line. Not quite true in person. I don�t have to worry about sitting down in a chair that is too small on-line.

*laughs*

Hey, some of you might think that�s a little thing, but for me... *shakes her head*

One of the things Dave asked me while we were talking once, was what he should keep in mind when he planned things for us to do. I said that he should not take me to any All-you-can-eat restaurants on the first date. *smirks* He laughed. (this was a phone conversation) But I said that he should make sure that the places we went had strong chairs with no arms. There is absolutely nothing more embarrassing than sitting back on one of those flimsy plastic chairs with arms built in.

Well, okay, I�m sure there�s one thing that could be more embarrassing... if the chair broke. And more embarrassing than that? The chair breaks and I get up with the seat of the chair stuck to my ass cause my hips are wide. *laughs*

So, Dave and I laughed about that and he said, �Okay, no chairs with arms... got it.�

*laughs*

He�s nice. And I like that. He�s a gentleman, and I like that. I think there is excellent friend potential here. But I�m still leery.

Anyway... I�m closing this finally. So much for a shorter entry today, huh?

Sorta drifted all over the place too.

Maybe I should go back to not listing what music I�m listening to, especially when I�m listening to it for the first time.

Hell, only one sentence between some songs... *shakes her head* Makes ya think that I have a five-words-per-minute typing speed at times.

*grins*

I have an 80+ words per minute typing speed. But I think that when I�ve got music on, I�ve got a 10 words per minute thinking speed. *grins*

Anyway. Until next time, folks. Stay safe.