Sunday, May 30, 2010

How Lucky Is This?

My husband is a sweet easy going guy, who mostly has no problem with what I want to do. Life is pretty much whatever I want to do next, as long as we can afford it.
Where do I want to go eat? Where do I want to go on vacation?
The choice and responsibility is always mine. He complains about it sometimes, but I am always on one quest or another, so that seems fair.
I told him I wanted to go to Russia to see the dogs that take the trains, all he said was, "How are you going to pay for it?"
Does he have any interest in going to Russia? No. If I get to go, he'll be there with me.
That makes me so lucky. I know that.
The flip side is he takes no active participation in our lives; that's my job. He is along for the ride in his own words. I get resentful when he snipes; I don't want to hear it.
I don't think I would mind doing something he likes, but that's never an issue. There's that part of me that says don't complain; suppose he wanted to do something you really hate.
He's made me feel safe, since I met him. I know he loves me. Don't I sound like the fool for complaining?
My birthday is soon. He has never bought me a birthday present. Hell, he never remembers my birthday. Sometimes he buys me an anniversary card.
After a missed birthday, I've made him give me his credit card and gone into a jewelry store to buy something more expensive than I should hoping next time he'd just buy flowers. Oh, no same thing happened the next year.
I've been pissy with him for two weeks already; my birthday isn't for another week. History tells me that my birthday is just another day to him.
 In recent years I've taken to mentioning my day in advance; jog his memory, no luck there. This drives me nuts; it's like I am not worth effort.
Don't think I haven't told him how I feel. He tells me that he's sorry it bothers me. He has also said things like, "I don't know what to say to you." Huh??
I'm getting tired of being in charge of our lives, but I can deal with that. All I want is for the man to go out of his way for me two times a year Christmas and my birthday.
He'll "let me have my way", but he won't go out of his way.
I know you're supposed to take people as they are; why is this so hard???

Friday, May 28, 2010

Still Figuring It Out

Gads, I just read my first two posts on this blog. That sounded pitiful; nothing could be further from the truth. I have made a great life for myself.
During the rebellion years, I did believe that it would have been better for all if I had been aborted. That was back in the days when I placed more importance on how other people felt about me, than my own feelings.
Coercive ways of raising kids teaches them to limit their behavior. Don't do anything, so you don't screw up and get beat. It twists how you see the world and worse your own feelings. Who knows what they are other than angry? I always preferred that to scared, so I never recognized how scared I was.
Do you ever wonder why you made some of the choices you've made? So many of the choices I've made at the time, they seemed wild and out there. Now, I realize most of my choices were because it made me feel safe.
Heavens knows I always thought I had my own drummer. The dark, drab colors I wore weren't a statement. They were to blend in; to not be noticed. Hey, I got my wish there.
After a few years of therapy my shrink told me I was officially normal. Still being a young smart ass my reply was, "What, normally f---ed up." She being the perfect therapist for me said, "Yes, that's about right."
What a true moment that was. Since then I've found a better balance in my life, but it's at a lower functioning level.
Where the devil is my owner's manual? My life is too much like, if all else fails read the directions.

Thursday, May 27, 2010


When you grow up unloved, it screws how you see the world. I am not talking about just feeling unloved, but parents behavior reinforcing you are not loved.
If you're five and your mother packs your bag putting you and it out the door; that's a clue you are not well thought of at home. 
If you've been good all day and you hear your mother say, "Get her first, she's the oldest." because your father is ready to beat your brother for something he did; you are not getting a loving feeling at that moment. 
You live many more examples of this negativity reinforcing experiences, but these are two of my personal favorites. So nothing you do pleases your parents, you suck. 
So how do you get from unhappy and worthless to productive positive member of society? Ha-ha. Do you?
Growing up you mistrust anyone who is good to you, while drawn to them like a moth & a bug zapper.
Have you ever had a meal at a friend's house when you were a kid? How did the parents treat your friend?
My one friend from grammar school, Barbara R, her family liked her so much; it amazed me. What completely felt strange is that they seemed to like me. I was always so afraid that my parents would talk to Barb's parents & tell them how bad I was, which would spoil everything.
Who knew that this Polish family on the south side of Chicago would be among my first positive role models? At the time I wondered why her parents were so good to her and mine beat the crap out of me, when we got into trouble together.
Who can go through a childhood like that without, shall we call it rebelling? Barb and I lost touch during the rebellion. When we last spoke she had just married with first child on the way.
So many times I wondered; what causes one family to act like they like each other and another family to act like they don't.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


Holy dog dung, I can't believe this is my third blog. Hee, hee humans find so many ways to express themselves. We are such a creative, screwed up lot.
If blogging were available back in the day I could have saved all the dough that paid my therapist.
Have you ever felt that you went about your life and very few people pay attention to you? How many times have you talked to someone only to realize that person's mind was tuned into a totally different channel?
My own mother never asks me how I am. The woman asks how my husband is; how are the dogs. Oh, how's your girlfriend from New Orleans? Her family? 
One of the coolest things about having friends is sharing who you are with somebody who cares about who you are. When a friend frequently interrupts your turn to get back to her; what are you supposed to think?
People are always telling me about themselves. In the airport, at the check out counter it doesn't matter. People want you to know who they are; they have a story. So often there is a sense of urgency in them, that you hear their story. 
Some stories are interesting, cute, funny, sweet; some are flat out lies, only one so sadly boring as to wish the phone would ring.  People's stories are almost endlessly interesting in one way or another...
An introspective person might deduce, I am one big bore; the extrovert, well, who cares. Let's just hope they don't get together to figure out how egocentrist we all are.