Target Will Keep Us Together

As Wes and I approach our second anniversary, I decided to write a little meditation on pants and marriage, and communication.

Sometimes I think he does it on purpose.  I'm almost positive he does it on purpose.

On an average day, work pants and pajama pants can be found on just about any handy surface.  Dining room chair backs, sofa back, across the bed, balled up under the bed, over the fan, balled up on the floor in the back of the closet.  Pretty much anywhere you might imagine although not ever where you might expect pants to be.

It was frustrating for reasons I couldn't fully articulate but surely he knows this annoys the hell out of me?  I mean, we've been living together for over three years now.  

A few months ago, we would have to have a Discussion about this.  It would have been about the pants, but not really about the pants.  You know.

Maybe we have both gotten a little wiser since then.  This time, we did not have to waste time with a Discussion about the damn pants.  This time I bought a four dollar door hook from Target and stared him down when he prepared to fling his pants to God knows where.

Then we had a conversation that neither one of us could pretend was about pants.

Sometimes Marriage Sucks

Photo by Love Joleen

I haven't been writing much.  As far as reasons go, feel free to take your pick.

• It's been a difficult season mentally and emotionally
• My spirits were at an all-time low
• The vessel just seemed so empty.

I have been thinking a lot about why I feel the way that I do these days and I think I can trace it back to the holiday season, specifically, our burning bowl ceremony.

I wrote "2012 was a hard year for us and we want 2013 to be better.  We wanted to focus on moving forward, onward and upward.  Naming the things that have been holding us each back, separately and together, and watching them turn to so much smoke and ash was the first step towards freedom."

As it turns out, there are a whole bunch of other steps after the first one.  All of them seem to require a considerable amount of mental, emotional, and physical effort.  For example, one of the things I put on my list was my fear of not being a good enough wife.  To truly face that issue, and let it go, has meant confronting the things that conspire to make me feel that way.

I had a really long list.  Needless to say, It hasn't been pretty.

Added to that, Wes and I have been struggling to reconcile our expectations of marriage with our reality.  Weirdly enough, I think we both have the same idea in mind when we think wife-a being who is 80% Claire Huxtable, 10% fifties caricature, and 10% porn star.  It should go without saying that I am no Claire Huxtable.

This completely imaginary and ridiculous standard causes problems.  I feel guilty for not measuring up and he feels annoyed because I don't measure up which in turn annoys the ever living shit out of me because COME ON!  It's a vicious cycle that would probably end, or turn into something equally nasty, if one of us would just knuckle under, put on the damn pearls and get to vacuuming.

But I can't.  And I won't.  

I know a lot of this comes out of our current difficult circumstances.  I imagine our expectations wouldn't seem so ridiculous if our realities were a little less grim.  Nothing else is easy right now but what is easy is to blame one another.  It's easy to do that because it works so nicely with the idea that if one of us sucked less at x, y, z our whole lives would be better.  It's got to be somebody's fault you know.  It's always easier to take if it's someone else's fault.

But, it's not my fault and I'm done accepting blame for things I didn't do just to keep the peace.  I did not get married to cheerfully work myself into the ground.  I did not get married because I had an overwhelming desire to take on the care and feeding of another person.  I did not get married to take the place of someone's mother.  

I got married because I believed we had a partnership.  I got married because I believed we were equals.  I got married because I believed we were committed to working together to build a life worth living together.

And love.  

Love itself has seemed embattled lately.  

Emotional Justice: Gaslighting

30Before30: Prioritize Mental Health

I had the most fucked-up conversation I have ever had as an adult with my husband's father a couple of weeks ago.  If I were to write a textbook on what gaslighting is and its use in mentally and emotionally abusive relationships I could use a transcript of this conversation and its aftermath as an example.  For your reference, this feministe post draws out a fuller explanation.

Source

Essentially, my points and comments were met with phrases like, "Well, I think anyone who thinks like that has something wrong with them," "You're not understanding what I'm saying," and "I think you are imagining things that are not there," and "Now I don't want you to get upset/you don't have to get upset."

These statements aren't so bad on their own, right?  Well, it gets weird when I put them in context.  Whenever I disagreed with his points, providing evidence and reasoning, he would say "people" who think like that have something "wrong" with them or he would imply that I misunderstood him when I hadn't.  When those tactics didn't work, he resorted to saying I was imagining things because I was upset or angry.

All of these tactics are designed to make me doubt the validity of my own thoughts and feelings and even my own experience of the conversation in real time.  Systematic and repeated exposure to this type of behavior is a form of abuse.  As this article points out, over time, gaslighting can weaken a victim by compromising their confidence and essentially endangering their sense of self.

Source

So how do you know if it is happening to you?

Dr. Robin Stern, a licensed practicing psychoanalyst and author of The Gaslight Effect: How to Spot and Survive the Hidden Manipulation Others Use to Control Your Life, identified some signs that might help you identify whether you are being gaslighted.  

1. You are constantly second-guessing yourself

2. You ask yourself, "Am I too sensitive?" a dozen times a day.

3. You often feel confused and even crazy at work.  

4. You're always apologizing to your mother, father, boyfriend,, boss.

5. You can't understand why, with so many apparently good things in your life, you aren't happier.

6. You frequently make excuses for your partner's behavior to friends and family.

7. You find yourself withholding information from friends and family so you don't have to explain or make excuses.

8. You know something is terribly wrong, but you can never quite express what it is, even to yourself.

9. You start lying to avoid the put downs and reality twists. 

10. You have trouble making simple decisions.

11. You have the sense that you used to be a very different person - more confident, more fun-loving, more relaxed.

12. You feel hopeless and joyless.

13. You feel as though you can't do anything right.

14. You wonder if you are a "good enough" girlfriend/ wife/employee/ friend; daughter.

Emphasis added is mine.  Source.

Now the question: How do you practice self-care in this situation?

First, an important part of prioritizing mental health for me has been recognizing when I need to practice self care and believing that it is alright to do so.  This seems like a very basic stance but I think a lot of women, myself included, are brought up to do the exact opposite.  Girls tend to be socialized as nurturers and care-givers but the emphasis of all that care is always supposed to be focused outward.  Focusing inward can seem selfish and wrong.  

Swallowing all that hurt and anger and bitterness is no way to live.  I can, and will, tell you stories.

Here is what I did, however, I recommend that you always research and inform yourself as much as possible.  The links and references I have provided are a good start.  

Additionally, if you have access to counseling services use them.  There is NOTHING WRONG with reaching out for help-when we bitch to our friends we are essentially doing the same thing for free feedback of questionable quality.

First, AFFIRM YOURSELF.  I am not crazy.  This is what happened.  This is why it is wrong.  This is why it makes me feel this way.

Let it marinate.  I digested the conversation for a day or so.  I did this for myself but also because I knew I wanted to talk to my husband about it.

Talk about it.  I was able to express what happened and how it made me feel.  Taking the time to process and think helped me clearly articulate my thoughts.  By the time we talked I was also calm enough to listen which meant Wes and I could have a real discussion.  If you do want to talk about it, talk about it with someone you trust or find an impartial party.

Assess your options.  Think about what you want to happen-how can you proceed to meet those ends?  Maybe you can limit contact with this person.  Maybe you can choose to alter how you engage with them.  Our choices are limited right now and in a very real sense, the best we can do if we want to remain together is to wait it out and move as soon as possible.

Decide on coping strategies.  If you can't escape your situation completely, think about how you want to cope.  Waiting it out sucks, but in the meantime we are adapting by ensuring that we both spend as little time in the house as possible and we do our best to keep separate meal times.  Additionally, I no longer engage in conversation with him.  

It's not ideal, but it's the best we have right now.

Which Way is Up?

I think I have reached the point where making good choices is no longer an option because all of the choices available suck.

I feel pretty squeezed these days.  I am under all kinds of trendy pressure right now.  Unemployment, poor job market, aging and ill parent requiring care, student loans looming . . . .  I'm tempted to leave it at that because it feels so lame to stress or complain about the same issues that everyone is struggling with these days.  I do want to write about it though, particularly because it is so difficult to talk about how I feel. Added to that, feeling silenced--feeling like I don't deserve to speak or that no one will listen--makes the sense of isolation worse.

We have been busy these last few weeks attending orientations, interviews, and looking for apartments.  Yesterday, I was very upset to discover that I actually wasted quite a bit of time and money on those things because my husband thinks it would be better for us to live with his parents for a month or so to save money before we sign a lease.  And by "better" he means "we pretty much have to."  And I know what "a month" means but this "or so" business is ominous to say the least.

I was, am, devastated.  And that word is actually not dramatic enough to really express how I feel.

That said, I do understand that this situation is probably not what anyone involved has been dreaming about/hoping for/longing for.  I get that it pretty much sucks for everyone.  But . . . .

I don't think I can do it.

Aside from just not wanting to, I am not in a place where I have the necessary mental or emotional fortitude.  One thing I have discovered this year is that my physical health depends much more strongly on the general health and well-being of those two factors than anything else I might do.  This puts me in the position of wondering if a month "or so" of discomfort, turmoil, and general unhappiness will set me back for the rest of my life.

Again, I think the words I've chosen are probably not dramatic enough. 

• I feel backed into a corner without viable choices.  These are triggers.

• This move would be isolating, and in this situation, only isolating for me.  This is a trigger.

• I would not have the privacy that I am used to or basic control over my environment.  More triggers.

• I would have no physical outlet or escape.  This is the overwhelming panic button.

Those are broad strokes of how powerless and alone this decision makes me feel.  Just typing and looking at the words is enough to make my chest feel tight, to make my breath short.  

I don't think I can do it--but I don't know what else to do.

Our Treasury (Maybe) Bleeds Money

I used to love this game . . .

Source

My aunt had it on her computer and I may have spent entire evenings playing it when I should have been doing homework.

Anyway.

Our finances, judging by our stacks of unopened mail, are in disarray.  A friend brought up student loans yesterday.  Wes brought up the necessity of me getting a job today (!)*  All of these things brought up even more questions.  Do I even know how much I owe the feds for my fancy ass education at this point?  How about how much Wes owes?  What about accounts-do we know where all of them are?  We have both moved so much in the past five years that it can be difficult to keep track.  Apparently we have assets now too.  Having been pretty much broke my entire life, this is a brand new state for me.  What the hell is going on?

I know what you're thinking.  Do we have a budget?  Hell no!  Budgets are for people in control of their lives and finances.  Budgets are for loooooosers who want to have things like financial security.  WE ARE GANGSTA.

On the real, having a budget would mean that we had actually had a real conversation about money.

So . . . . clearly we need to start having real conversations about money.

Why do we have twenty-eight + spoons?

I've been spring cleaning.

I'm not sure why Tim had this much silverware.*  Remember, most of the time only two people live in this house.

Before

Family housing has some odd size drawers.  This organizer is one of two at Target that fit and the only one that wasn't plastic.

After

Seriously . . .  what single man has this much silverware?

The rejects-I hid them in the bottom of the napkin basket.  I don't know why.  Don't judge.

*(We never really consolidated belongings upon marrying but my silverware was the kind you get at Walmart in a bundle for a dollar. . .  so, good riddance.)

Bah Humbug = The Blues

Maybe this song deserved a trigger alert?  The Emotions can rip your heart out of your chest and Alicia Keys wasn't too bad in that video either.

Despite my general chubbiness and fat, dimpled cheeks I am not actually inclined to jolliness-especially during the holiday season.

There are any number of reasons why.*  The main one is that as we have gotten older, my family and I have drifted farther and farther apart.  I remember as a child being excited and annoyed by the holidays.  Thanksgiving and Christmas meant visiting, which was fun, and having to share beds or sleep on the floor, which was not.  There would be family everywhere and plenty of people to play with.  We had a Christmas tree and Christmas decorations.  On Christmas day there would usually be at least one new toy for each kid but what I remember most, what I miss most, is the gathering together.

All of our holiday traditions were built around that homecoming.  My mother's family would gather at her sister's house in Montrose.  My father's family would descend on my grandmother's house in Blackwell.  I go to any one of those places on any major holiday and I could expect an overcrowded, overheated house with no place to sit, no privacy, and an eternal waiting list for the bathroom.

Things change.

People grew older and less able to do the holiday work.  Sons and daughters chipped in but then they moved farther away for work.  The road home became too long.  They stopped coming.  Brothers and sisters grew up and the life of the family wasn't enough to contain them.  Children left home and each year it became more and more difficult to haul the tree out of the box, to put up the decorations, to go through the motions.  The holiday shuffle ground to a halt.

I understood it, but I wasn't ready.  I decided to be bitter about Christmas in general instead of sad.

I was a teenager when I had to let go of those traditions.  Now I am an adult, one of the ones who moved too far from home to make the trip back.  Now I have my husband's family to consider, and a visitation arrangement that last year meant we spent six hours of Christmas day on the interstate.

This year, despite everything, I am going to try to do things differently.

*Not least of which is the expectation of jolliness.  Why force a person to pretend goodness and joy?  That's brutal.

Weekend In Review

I know it's Tuesday but I am already thinking longingly of the weekend.  

Last weekend was pretty mellow.  We ran a few errands, did some homework, colored, played in the park, and worked on how we are supposed to behave in stores. 

All Images are my own

On Sunday we went to the botanical gardens-gorgeous day.  We explored the hiking trails and the atrium, we met a very friendly, very outgoing toddler, and we had a really nice time.

Marrying a Man With a Child

Today I have a lot on deck.  Not only is this our weekend to have Wes' son, Little Bit, we will also be hosting his parents.  That means that in addition to my regular round of kinda-sorta kid-proofing we also--well, mostly me--need to really clean up this joint.  I also wanted to take a moment and write a little bit about this whole blended family to be thing.

Wes and the Little Bit at Watson Mill Bridge State Park-photo by Moi

Wes and I are getting married and part of that getting married bit means that I will soon be a full on wicked stepmother.  Sobering.  To say the least.  But, I feel oddly prepared and strangely qualified to be heading down the blended family, step parenting path.

I can't say the same for a few of my female friends.  They have very strict policies against dating men with children.  And. . . I get it.  I really do.  As I discussed with Wes fairly early on in our relationship, a man who has a child from a previous relationship, no matter his income or disposition, is generally met with hesitation.  Why?  Well, potential partners, if they are at all worth pursuing, will pause to consider the child.  Would I be good for this kid?  Would he like me?  If this goes somewhere am I ready to be that involved in a child's life?  Am I ready to be a parent?  Can I do this?  There are a lot of questions right off the bat and children change elemental things.

There is the attention factor to consider as well.  You know those early days of a relationship where both parties are completely focused on each other?  When there are children in the mix, they take priority.  Some people aren't comfortable with that and it can be difficult when you need your partner's attention or support and he or she is unable to give it.  It can be stressful for all parties.

And. . . well, I'll say it.  Children are not actually delivered by the stork so there is another individual all up in your daily mix and however awesome he or she might be . . .  from time to time you might find yourself with a sharp pain in the ass.  How do you deal with that?  How do you protect your position as girlfriend, fiance, or wife or whatever?  Do you even have the right to do that?

It boggles the mind.

All of these things have to be considered and dealt with when one is marrying a man with a child. 

As a former stepkid myself and possessor of a blended family I have decided ideas about how best to go about this.  Love helps.  I love Wes and I love his son.  What is important about that is that I love Little Bit for himself, not as just an extension of Wes.  Love lets me accept six hours on the road on Christmas Day because it's important that Little Bit get to celebrate with both sides of his family.  Love keeps my mouth shut when I really, really, reallllllly would like to SAY A COLLECTION OF THINGS about that post I saw on facebook . . . .etc., etc.

My philosopy is simple.  We are all your family.  I hold on to that when things get hard.