Posted by whiterabbit on June 22, 2003, at 22:23:22
In reply to Re: Very long rant. Sorry., posted by noa on June 22, 2003, at 12:54:06
For the sake of your mental health. As long as you continue to live in that pressure-cooker atmosphere, your stress level will keep rising and eventually something will have to give, maybe your sanity. Been there! Don't let her do that to you, just who the hell does this person think she is? Right now you're not thinking clearly - depression distorts your self-image and clouds normal thought processes. Again, I'm not going by a popular theory and I didn't read that in a book.
I've lived that and I'm paying for it now. For years I've been trying to please a shallow, self-centered, resentful, ungreatful husband. Nothing I did was ever right or good enough, no matter how much time, effort or money I had devoted to finally "getting it right". He picked apart everything I did, belittled my accomplishments, criticized and complained, complained, complained. And I believed him! I needed to do better, I needed to try harder, I had to change.
I wasn't good enough.Well guess what? It wasn't me, it was never me. I'm not saying that I didn't have serious problems myself, what a lie that would be. But I'm convinced that nobody on earth will make this man happy, ever. He's found himself someone else to have sex with so he's kicking me to the curb after 20 years and finally, thank you God, my eyes have been opened and I can see, devil get out...SHE'S WELCOME TO HAVE THE MISERABLE BASTARD.
(I apologize Dr. Bob, but if you knew the guy like I do you would think to yourself, "He certainly IS a miserable bastard, in fact I believe that the term 'miserable bastard' hardly starts to cover it...")Anyway are you getting my point here. If you could read your posts like we in cyberland read them, KALY, from a much more objective point of view and not from inside your fishbowl, you would know that your landlady has stepped way, WAY past
all acceptable boundries of privacy and decency.
"Friendship" is not an excuse because this person is not your friend, I can tell you that right now. You need to remove yourself from that environment or you'll continue to go downhill. I know that you're thinking, "I'll move as soon as I can get myself together, when I feel better and stronger" but the problem is, you have to move FIRST and then, once you're away from that damaging radioactive environment with all the tension and pain and stress, THEN you can start the process of healing...even if you think right now, "What's the use, I'll never feel better no matter where I'm living, I can't run from myself and my problems and the next place might be even worse"...you are trying to be realistic and it's true, you can't run away from yourself and by now almost everybody knows THAT much, it's hardly earth-shaking news. But here's something I'm just now learning myself, a simple and basic truth that good teachers and parents and fishers of men have known instinctively since the beginning of time:The psyche is similar to a plant that grows in accordance to its genetic traits and environment.
These two factors produce both plants and humans
in countless variations. A healthy plant genetically coded to produce breath-taking flowers and foliage will begin to curl up, wither and brown without proper nurturing. The more a plant must struggle to survive in alien soil
without adequate light, water and care, the less
chance it has to grow lush and blossom into its full potential.Lets stop right here for an example. I'm no longer concerned about my husband's opinion and
what he thinks of my writing here on Psycho-Babble. He would read my posts and get very angry and disgusted with me, he pictured himself as some sort of martyr and saint for tolerating my craziness over the last few years and it's true,
I was quite mad for awhile there. My stupid, dangerous, destructive behavior would sometimes spill right over into outright psychosis. Mentally, I was extremely ill but intelligent enough to cover it up with a somewhat acceptable facade at work, and I held out as long as I could with this ace while the rest of my cards disappeared.In the meantime, my loving husband would critique
and complain and criticize and reject everything I did. He accused me of washing his uniforms with
blue jeans and other inappropriate clothing although I had not. He complained bitterly about the way I hung up his blue jeans, giving them what he called the "clown fold" and sputtering that he would just have to do his own laundry because I was too stupid to get it right even though he had told me OVER and OVER exactly how he preferred his blue jeans to be folded on the hanger. I could spend two hours slicing, dicing, marinating and frying for a regular meal, no special occasion, and his only comment would be that the vegetables were undercooked. And here's the really sad, pathetic part; while I was at home trying to fold clothes and cook vegetables in the correct manner to please him, he was out with his friends complaining about his tortured
homelife and vile marriage.It seems like a lot of wasted time and pain and emotion but maybe not, maybe not. Think about those beautiful and delicate flowering plants that have been nurtured into hothouse splendor with daily care. The first time that the power goes out in winter and the temperature drops to freezing, them plants are dead overnight. The rest of us, the tough daisies, we can't even figure out why those flowers are dead because hell, we barely felt a thing.
I hope Ken doesn't read any of this because maybe he's still thinking I'm as crazy and stupid as he
must believe with all his lies. Crazy like a fox, damn skip. I've recovered from the shock of being served with divorce papers to end our 20-year relationship, dissolve the marriage vows he never cared about anyway, and separate our property in a legal manner. To that I say:Let the games begin.
If I can do this, Kaly, you can detach yourself from the landlady and start again.
-Gracie
poster:whiterabbit
thread:235513
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20030617/msgs/236164.html