So Tired…

It’s been a busy week, what with working every-other-day and road trips and shopping and laundry and getting a bunch of clothes ready to take to the resale shop and visits to the dog park (Sabu met a lovely Golden Retriever boy called Boston today. What doggie joy!)

Clothes take up a lot of room. Towanda’s wardrobe area sucks. Clothes hanging on a temporary closet rod take up an enormous amount of room, but they will be gone Thursday afternoon. Whew! If it doesn’t fit in the wardrobe, it’s going out the door – no exceptions! More on that once I get things under control.

People have been asking Awana (not me, surprisingly) why I am not “torn up” about leaving M, why I’m not grieving the loss of my relationship, why I seem so damned happy to be on my own living a lifestyle that many find repulsive.

“Why doesn’t she seem sad?” they ask.

“Why is she smiling and happy living in a travel trailer for g-d’s sake?”

“Why isn’t it more difficult for her, leaving a long term relationship like that?”

Even Awana asks me almost every day if I’m happy with my decision to change my life so radically.

The answer is simple – I did my crying for years while still in my abusive relationship.

I denied the disappearance of the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with while he was cutting me down to size with his forked tongue.

I seethed with anger while he told me yet again what a loser I am, how I ruined his life with my slovenly, lazy, stupid ways, how I am a bad judge of character, how I ask for his anger and yelling, how I can’t be trusted to speak to men in person or even on Facebook, my lack of sex drive and a million other things.

I bargained with him, begged to be loved, vowed to change my wicked ways, do anything he wanted me to do if he would only love me like he did in the beginning as he told me, “it would take eight of you to keep me entertained, do you understand that? Eight of you!”

I fell into a deep depression, convinced I was the cause of all of our problems. I honestly believed that all of my relationships were doomed because I was a piece of shit who just didn’t know how to communicate, to use language properly, that I was too damaged to love someone the way they deserved to be loved. After all, the common denominator in all of my failed relationships was me, right?

And then I hacked M’s e-mail and discovered his deceits. I started this blog and was soon found by the wonderful women (and men) who read and comment here and my life started to turn around. As I wrote, I discovered more lies and started to grow a backbone. I researched, I asked questions, I did a lot of deep thinking about my situation.

I accepted that M is an abuser. I accepted that I am to blame for letting him get away with his abuse for so long and that I need to do some serious work to heal myself so I will never again be so attractive to an abuser like M. I accepted that the only solution to my problems with M was for me to move out. I hatched a plan and I left.

Know what? My life has only gotten better. Without M everything is better. Doing laundry is better. Cleaning “house” is better. Picking up dog shit is better, and that should tell you something about how awful life with M was. Daily chores make me very happy because I know that the only person I have to please is ME.

There will be no criticism about anything because there is no impossible critic living with me. I can do anything I want to do and there is no one to say a word about it. I can drive to the dog park at midnight, talk to a man on the street, eat toast in bed, watch TV, leave my dirty clothes in a heap on the floor until morning, wear socks to bed, turn the heat up to 70* (gasp!!!) and take a 20 minute hot shower three times a day if I want to, and there is no one to tell me I can’t.

There is no one to judge me if I do something crazy like watch three episodes of Dexter in a row while knitting a sock, or sleep late and ignore the vacuuming just because I’m tired today, or get up, walk the dog and go back to bed and drink a cup of tea while reading a book. I tell people I have done these things, and they congratulate me! They say things like, “good for you!” So it can’t be all that wrong, can it?

What possible reason could I have to be less than over the moon happy?

 

The Latest News

All is well here, just busy. Posted  my latest condensation adventures (more to come) over on Travels with Towanda.

After his blow-up over my rejection of his V-day proposal, M’s tune has changed. Again. He has decided to start taking the Cymbalta his doctor recommended and he’s reading up on neuroscience!

Speaking of pain and pain management, two things. First, since I started taking the Cymbalta, my pain has significantly reduced, which has had a remarkable affect on my attitude.
Second, I am reading a free book I picked up on-line, called Pictures of the Mind: What the New Neuroscience Tells Us About Who We Are. It’s about brain imaging, such as fMRI and PET and how that has helped understand brain function. It has a long chapter on chronic pain and another on Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. In both cases, they talk about how these conditions actually erode brain cells and function. A person with chronic pain for three or four years can actually loose 10% of the neuron function of their brain! But there is a new therapy called “mindfulness training”, which is similar to meditation and promotes learning compassion (for self and others) as a treatment and restorative to brain function. All kinds of dysfunctional behavior are associated with these two conditions, including lack of impulse control.

Picture me rolling my eyes and saying, “Duh!” What about MY PTSD? Narcissistic Personality Disorder also causes all of his symptoms, but so far I have not said anything about my theories about his behavior.

And later he starts in (again) with the sympathy ploy (the bold is mine):

This book I’ve been reading about brain imaging puts the lie to the old theories I have been repeating about how people don’t learn and change as they age. In fact, the imaging shows that brain cells and neurons are in constant regeneration up to about 75.

Apparently current psychological theory (based on imaging) indicates that people with chronic pain often do exactly what I’ve done – they overwork themselves to mask the pain because it buries the trauma. I’ve known that all along, but had convinced myself it was productive and good. I’ve even tried to hook you into it. And you already know how this kind of counter-intuitive thinking caused so much trouble for us. I know you tried to convince me otherwise, but you must remember I’ve been locked into this for a long time, it all fed into the hard-work ethic I was raised with.
The imaging shows that the stress caused by all this actually damages brain cells. What they are saying, though is that re-training is very effective and fast. An eight week course based on the theories in the book you got me (thank you!) coupled with drug therapy such as I’m doing now can turn my life around.

It’s been pretty amazing to me how just coming to understand this has already made a big difference in my emotional state. The Cymbalta evened out my stress in three days and it’s getting better everyday. I used to feel this panicky flutter in my chest when something “got me going” and it’s gone. For the first few days after you left, I felt like that a lot and was telling myself, that’s the trigger I need to pay attention to, which I think I told you at the time. Tonight when I drove home, there was a truck right on my tail and instead of getting the chest flutter and feeling the blood rise to my face, I just watched closely and felt completely calm. Can’t even remember having a reaction like that in that situation!

My back is sore, but not pinched. It no longer feels like someone is stabbing me with an icepick. And this is after spending a few days cramped under the cockpit of B’s boat!!! I actually (to my surprise) cracked-up the office staff at the clinic today. Don’t feel too jokey, but the old sense of humor popped out anyway.

One thing has not changed much, though and that’s how much I miss you. I woke up today and just couldn’t believe you were gone. That feeling stuck with me all day, just can’t believe you’re not in my life and may be gone forever. It feels like forever already. I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t come back and try to love me as before. When I look there, it’s just a huge empty space.

Poor Man with all his empty space! Not. He wrote asking  me to please call him, that all this e-mail is exhausting. My reply was, “You say that e-mail is exhausting, but I find talking on the phone is exhausting because I don’t have time to think about my reply and feel that we end up in circular conversations that get us nowhere. This is easier for me right now.”

He let it drop and sent just one line last  night: “Thank you for who you are and all you have given me. You are amazing.”

Whatever. He couldn’t see how fucking amazing I am when I was right there next to him, but a week or so on Cymbalta and he sees the light? Color me doubtful.

Anyone have a good link to some info about Cymbalta? Not the Customer Review crap, but something with a bit more meat to it? I want to know how soon a person can start seeing results and what those results might be, etc.

He wants to take an extended sailing cruise over the Summer and has asked me if I’ll come live in his house and take care of it and the animals. No specifics on what that means – does he expect that I’ll pay the bills? Does he think I will move back in while he’s gone? Does he realize that house sitters get paid? I told him I would consider it as I haven’t found a home for the bunnies yet. What say you?

 

I’m in Love!

Srsly. Can hardly think straight today, the ideas are whirling around in my head.

Oh. Get your jaw off the floor – I’m in love with my new life, duh! Sorry, should have said that 😀

Yesterday Awana, Sabu and I walked up to the local Hippie Mart where I found some lovely Darjeeling leaf tea. It was a day off from the shop, so I brewed and drank two full pots (four cups!) and it was wonderful and there was no one here to point out the cost or that I really drink too much caffeine, or to complain about tea leaves in the sink, or any damned thing. It was bliss.

Leaf tea has been a personal indulgence for a few years, a little treat that I try not to take too much for granted as it ain’t cheap, but it is oh, so goooood.

Spent the rest of the day making Real Money and when the sun went down I did something that would have caused M’s head to explode – I groomed the dog in the house. Not only did I brush her, but I fired up the electric trimmer and started her thrice-yearly haircut process. She hates it, so it takes about three days to get it all done and it makes a mess you wouldn’t believe. Know what? It felt good to do this little chore inside. Afterwards I vacuumed up the mess and you would never know that I’d been Dog Grooming indoors. Hah! And he said it couldn’t be done!

Today was a Shop Day. Sabu and I headed out early to run a couple of errands and stop by the dog park. The weather was dry, but overcast and not very warm. We arrived at the dog park with half an hour to play, but it was deserted. Sabu chased the ball a bit in a desultory way, trotting around the fence perimeter looking for a playmate.

And then we heard the best sound in the world! Tags jingling on a dog collar! It was Nanook and he was so happy to see his girl. They started to run and romp, and then what did we hear, but more tags on another dog collar! Fat brown lab Buddy joined us inside the fence, but he’s not much fun and Nanook and Sabu ignored him for the most part. Wait! Is that the sound of more tags? Yes, indeed, Merrick came to join the fun and Sabu was over the moon with happiness.

Three, count ’em, THREE boys all vying for her attention! She ran from one to another and back again and they all chased and wrestled and then the worst thing in the world happened. We ran out of time. We had to go to work. I swear Sabu thinks those are the worst six words in the human language – “we have to go to work.”

She was having none of it and we were late to work by the time I finally got a leash on her and dragged her into the car. The boys all stood at the fence to watch her drive away and I felt so bad, but cash for kibble has to come before fun and I gave her a treat to lessen the blow.

Long day at the shop. Slow, not many customers. Gave me a lot of time to think. I have a Storage Problem. Probably warrants a separate post, but I want to get this down before I change my mind. The first part of this problem is clothes. I have quite a few clothes. Clothes for most life situations, but nothing Really Dressy. I have quite a lot of Clothes That Can Get Dirty and quite a lot of Clothes That Can Go To Work. They do not all fit in the allotted space in Towanda* and something has to give.

And then it occurred to me – at the end of the week, the Stuff I Wear Everyday is in the dirty clothes basket. Everything else is “extra.” I don’t have much room in my life for “extra” right now. What would happen if I boxed up most of the “extra” and sold it? I mean, besides that I might end up with a little cash in my pocket. Would the world end? Would I find myself under dressed at a formal event? Snicker. Not likely I would be at a Formal Event. If I just threw out all the stuff that is worn, torn, finally Broken In, would I regret it? If I donated the stuff that’s not good enough to sell but too good to toss, would it be a relief?

Stay tuned – I have the next two days off work and I plan to find out just what can be done about the Clothes Situation.

* Who is the moron who designed the storage spaces in travel trailers? The “wardrobe” is square, with one corner cut off and a hanging bar mounted diagonally from corner to corner. The hangers don’t fit at either end of the bar and the triangle in the back is totally dead space. There are no shelves in any of the cabinets and nothing is even close to the size it is in a stix & brix house, so new folding methods have to be devised. Gaaaahhhh! Details to follow on Travels with Towanda.

 

Morning Walk

Living in an RV does not provide any yard space for an active dog to romp in. Awana works nights, coming home around 0700, and she wants to exercise before she has to sleep for her next shift, so Sabu and I have been joining her on morning walks, weather and energy levels (mine) permitting.

This morning it’s sunny and still and we set off down the hill to the local bay front where we were rewarded with this view of the local fishing boats with the bridge in the background –

Water like glass, sea lions barking in the distance. I think it’s safe at this point to say that I’m located on the Central Oregon Coast in a beautiful seaside community that I am learning to like a little more each day now that the Narc Cloud isn’t hanging over my head 24/7. I think at least one of my readers is located in Washington? Unmask via e-mail if you like 🙂 iwonttakeit@live.com

Awana and Sabu in the sunshine –

An hour or so walking along the bay front today did wonders for my attitude. Sabu is pretty happy, too, as you can see 🙂 A quick shower, vacuum up the dog hair and we’re off to work. I hope you all are having a lovely Sunday.

Goddess – the post I commented on disappeared? Care to continue via e-mail?

 

This is getting old

He’s bombing me with e-mail tonight, pleading confusion that I don’t want to talk to him. In the middle of a reply, a new note comes in. It’s all bullshit, but I thought I would share this one with you all. From him, title “An Insight:”

Jeez, how could I miss this. Back when you went to jury duty and came home telling me of the drug bust girl, I quit smoking and haven’t since. When you left, I also quit drinking. But last night I had two drinks. I’m not making some lame excuse. This could be a source of our problems and I need to quit drinking.

And my reply:

You don’t need to quit drinking, you need to quit being a dick. Alcohol does not change who you are, it just lessens your inhibitions – what you think actually makes it out of your mouth. You are capable and willing to slice me in half sober or drunk, that’s the Real Problem.

That shut him up. He’s telling a lie – I buy the booze and he did not quit drinking. Most of our “disagreements” happen while he’s sober anyway – alcohol makes him more mellow. Self aware, much? Asshole.

 

Well, I got mad…

and went over to M’s house, filled my car twice and dropped the stuff off at my storage unit. I was fuming at the thought that he was giving me orders and expected me to jump right back into his arms like nothing had happened. Like sex is going to fix what’s wrong with us. Whatever.

I went down to the dock to tell him to his face that he’s being a bully and that’s not the way to communicate with me, but he and B were out to lunch. Probably better that way, as I was really pissed off.

Took the dog to the dog park (a long walk and a playdate with Merrick and she is a happy dog!) and then came back to Towanda to send the following via e-mail. Subject changed to “You’re being a bully…”

And I don’t have to take it. I came down to B’s boat to tell you so, but you must have been out to lunch. I left my house key on the truck dash behind the steering wheel.

I was not aware that I am “enjoying the single life,” but since you know everything I will take your word for it. Feel free to use, sell or give away anything that I left behind. I will find a new home for the rabbits ASAP to relieve you of any responsibilities that I have burdened you with.

On February 23 your phone time will expire*. Log in to add airtime. You will need to update your credit card information. Alternately you can buy a card at Thriftway (over by the Customer Service counter) and follow the directions on the card.

I do not wish to talk to you on the phone or in person – I will not deal with Mr. Hyde any longer. If you wish to contact me, use this e-mail address. I will be shutting down my computer by 9:00 PM and will not answer any notes after that time.

I have no idea what you’re talking about with your accusations** and I don’t care. You should be aware that you do this sometime around the middle of every month – turn on me and start blaming me for whatever. This is the main reason I left. I can’t go on living under the shadow of your next blow-up.

If my silence in the face of your tirades angers you, that’s your problem, not mine. That you thought I would rush back to you because of a Hallmark Holiday shows how little you really know me. Normal people go out to lunch and try to talk civilly, to iron out their differences, they don’t make demands or get offended when an offer is rebuffed. You don’t want me for who I am and I can feel it – you’ve been telling me for years that I’m not Good Enough for you. I’m finally listening. I refuse to argue. I refuse to let you blame me for everything that has gone wrong between us. I’m sad and tired and done fighting with someone who was supposed to love and support me no matter what.

In retrospect it was probably better that we not see each other F2F because I probably would have looked crazy, shouting what a dick he is to the whole marina. Hopefully he will get the message now. I left some furniture behind, but it’s nothing that I can use right now anyway – I’m letting it go. No reason to draw this out any more. I feel bad that I haven’t been able to find a new home for the rabbits and will dedicate myself to that for as long as it takes. They both looked spry and happy today, as did the cat, so I’m fairly confident he will do right by them.

Sigh. I need a nap!

* I’ve been paying for the cell phone service and I prefer to pay online. He will, of course, not be able to navigate the complexities of online bill paying and whine to me about it, hence the reference to buying a card at the local grocery. He’ll figure it out. Or not. Whatever.

** Evidently when you “like” something on FB it shows up in your friend’s feeds? I can’t find it anywhere, but he saw it? No worries, he’s been de-friended and blocked…

 

Day After Fall-Out

Last night I turned my phone off at 8:00 after talking with Mom for awhile. I turned off the computer, too, and spent the evening spinning and cleaning.

This morning there were two voicemail messages on my phone, the first from last night, “Happy Valentine’s Day…” said with much crying in his voice.

The second from 8:00 AM, “If you’re so happy being single, maybe you should come over and get the rest of your things.”

And then I opened my e-mail to find this from last night, “Please call me…Please, please please call me. I love you so much it hurts.”

And again at 8:00 AM. The subject line says “Token” –

If you chose to ignore my best efforts at demonstrating my love, affection and devotion and instead post for the world to see a silhouette of a man poised to shoot cupid, you have shown me the greatest contempt. If you truly hate me, why don’t you say so.

If you should chose to respond, I will not be able to answer, since I am working with Brandon again today. Unless you want to call me on my cell phone, in which case I will take the time to talk. The way you chose to deal with adverse situations has been difficult for me for all the years I’ve known you and the basis of all my frustrations and tirades. Do you want to improve our situation or not?

Hello, Mr. Hyde!

More later – Awana and I are off to walk the dog.

 

V-Day Bullshit

The Narc is not giving up. Found this in my inbox this AM. The subject reads, “My Flower:”

[His Nickname for me],

I wonder if, in celebration of this lover’s holiday, you would come over tonight and have dinner with me? I would like it very much if you could spend the night and I could hold you in my arms. I promise to treat you as my delicate wild flower and show you the love and respect you deserve, with no advances on your honor you might not welcome.

With all my love,

m

Srsly? How do “normal” people do this? Is breaking up and making up like this? I’ve never had a relationship with anyone other than a Narc or similar, so I really don’t know how it’s supposed to go.

After years of abuse, yelling, put-downs, dismissing feelings, name calling, taking control of everything, constant derision, would someone “normal” go back after a romantic gesture like this?

How can he think that I will go over there and fall into bed with him after the foul, ugly things he has said and done to me? He wants to “start over.” He says he has changed back into the man I fell in love with, the kind, gentle, supportive M who wants nothing but to bask in the glow of my happiness.

Yeah, right.

Did I have a memory transplant last night? Uh…no I did not. I ignored his picture/card. I have not responded to him in any way since Monday. Do I let this note go by with no response as well? Or do I send some reply that clues him in?

Do I tell him that the picture he sent has bad memories for me? He surely remembers it differently and can explain his way out of almost anything – he would turn it around so it seems like it was a perfect day joking around with an old friends, but my stomach still clenches with frustration when I remember how I held my tongue when he was being a dick so he would shut up sooner and I don’t think 3.5 weeks is long enough for forgiveness.

 

Galentines Day

Last week I had a thought – Awana and I are both (very happily thankyouverymuch) single and V-day is for all of you who are coupled up and that’s not very fair, is it? My idea was for the two of us to start an annual tradition of going out to lunch somewhere fabulous and enjoying ourselves all afternoon on V-day in defiance of the whole hearts & flowers thing.

Then I discovered that we both work on V-day. Okie-dokie, Wednesday it is!

We had lunch at a wonderful local Chinese restaurant where the owner plays piano whenever she has a chance and she is GOOD! She also paints gorgeous watercolors and is funny and wise on top of all of her other talents.

Not being very worldly where food is concerned, I ordered the Fried Shrimp special and it was exquisite! There are not enough words to describe how delicious each and every bite was. I ate egg flower soup for the first time. I even have leftovers for lunch at work tomorrow. Sadly, neither one of us brought a camera along, so you’ll have to take my word that the food was beautiful and wonderful. Awana had a Fish Hot Pot that puts any Mexican dish I’ve tried to shame. We plan on making it an every-other-Wednesday tradition until we’ve worked our way through the entire menu and then we’ll pick another local gem to try. Yum!

We then went shopping at local consignment stores. Being a Tourist Town, there are many wealthy women who spend only six months here and they leave their now out-of-season clothes behind. We love a bargain! As Awana said, “we shopped like we had money!”

We then spent the evening (after a trip to the dog park so Sabu could poop*) spinning and yarning with friends until we all got caught up on the latest gossip.

A perfect day.

And just a few minutes ago I discovered that ladies going out on the day before V-day is a Thing – Galentines day!

Nice! We are so With It we don’t even know it 🙂

* The damned dog has decided that she won’t poop anywhere but at the dog park. This is a two-piles-a-day dog, and she is holding it until we get to the dog park. 36 hours is her record so far, and she acts so pitiful and miserable until I take her to the park that I can’t stand it. Long walks are not enough. Frequent walks just make her smile. She holds her poop until we get to the park. What do I do about that? She is as stubborn as I am and I think we have a problem. Any advice would be appreciated as it’s been going on well over a week…

 

The Prom Dress

Just for a smile, here’s my son dressed in a prom gown at a thrift store some years ago. My Sis and I were looking for clothes for me to wear on a cruise the family was going on (she always picks out the best outfits for me) and she pulled this dress out and said, “look, you could wear this and be a princess!” I told her that I hate purple only slightly less than I hate pink and besides, I don’t wear sparkly stuff.

My son, who up until that point had been bored silly, said, “I’ll try it on!”

“Only if we can take pictures,” replied my Mom.

“Sure!” and we were off, Grandma, Sis and I trailing behind my 6′ tall son, dress in hand, all through the store, drawing stares the whole way.

As soon as he disappeared into the dressing room, people started to gather around, phones and cameras in hand. I started to get nervous – it was a lot of people wanting a show and I wasn’t sure my normally shy son would go through with it.

“I can’t get it zipped…” from the dressing room.

“I’ll help, open the door,” said Grandma and she disappeared inside.

A minute later, out stepped my son –

He was a good sport, turning this way and that for the strangers gawking at him, all the while blushing furiously. It was fantastic – a day that will go down in my family’s history books for sure, the stuff of legends.