Crossing nice people (part 1)

DISCLAIMER, because I know you guys: No, this is not a reference to anyone currently in my life. 

      When I was younger, I had a chronic issue with giving people 2nd, 3rd, even 154th chances. As a kid, we're taught to be nice, be forgiving, turn the other cheek, but I would let people get away with things that I really shouldn't have. For the most part, people - or at least a certain type of person - will keep pushing if you let them get away with something once, long past when it becomes obvious that pushing is leading to a problem. After all, they got away with it once, twice, a hundred and fifty-four times... why not keep going?

Gaslighting recovery

     If you're not familiar with the phrase gaslighting (lucky you), it's a psychological control mechanism where the controller makes the victim doubt their own perception/ memory/ judgement, so the victim comes to rely on the controller's version of reality - to their own detriment. I ran into this phrase toward the end of my first relationship, in my mid-20s, and realized I'd fallen into it. There were too many occasions to count where I'd get upset because he didn't do something he said he would - or did something he said he wouldn't - and he'd convince me I was wrong, that never happened, we never agreed to that, whatever... and now he was hurt because I came at him with false accusations. It had been going on for so long that I inevitably backed down, apologized, and internalized that I had a terrible memory.

     Eventually, he made a mistake and tried to tell me I was wrong about something I had an outside witness to; that and some other occurrences gave me the strength to get him out of my life, but I carried that now-familiar doubt of my own memory into other relationships, and fell back into the same trap. Even as I went through my BA and got solid grades while working part-time, I still believed I had a horrible memory - my brain never picked up on the doublethink there.

     I finally started questioning and rejecting that self-doubt when a couple things coincided: my gentleman has pointed out several times that I'm pretty good at keeping mental lists of things, and the concept of "mental load" became vocalized and acceptable to talk about in public (somewhat, but that's another topic). It's taken a couple years, and finishing an MS with great grades while working full-time, but I've gotten to the point where I no longer doubt my memory or interpretation of reality.

Well... much...

Geeky proposal

     Set this up back in March: my proposal to the gentleman.






Started on the whiteboard in the kitchen, one of the first places we both go when we wake up.

Good news/ bad news

     One of my friends wrote me an entire three-page letter like this once. It's since become a pattern in my brain, because it lets me work through what's going on in my life, it doesn't matter if there are lots of random tangents, and whichever one you end up with more of, usually gives you an idea of how well things are going.

Good news: I got a job!

Bad news: It's part-time.

Good news: It fits in well with my school schedule!

Bad news: It doesn't actually pay all my bills.

Spring Break

     Spring break started, for me, this past Thursday. Given the usual irregularity of plane tickets, it turned out that leaving early would save me a couple hundred dollars in airfare, so I sacrificed a day or two of work in order to get the lower prices. The flight was bumpy as all get out, but at least it didn't snow, rain, hail, sleet, freeze, or otherwise get delayed. Sometimes, that's all you can ask for.

     The past few weeks have been pretty stressful with graduation looming over me. I try to be one of those people who plan ahead and are prepared for anything, so having an abrupt end to the entire way of life I'm used to is a bit unnerving. This weekend helped that no small bit, just by my gentleman and I being able to find an affordable place to live. It's not our dream place, of course, but since I don't have a job lined up yet (and therefor don't know where I'll have to commute to or what my income/ budget will be), we opted to err on the safe side. Still, it's a nice, open place that is roughly the square footage we were looking for, and in a gorgeous neighborhood with lots of walking/ biking paths, so no complaints!

Apologies

     It was brought to my attention that the casual mention on Wednesday of when I was raped was not something many of you were prepared for, and I apologize for that. I have been working and focussing on it for a number of months now, and have finally accepted it, so I didn't realize I hadn't let people in on what was going on. I tend to be fairly close-mouthed when it comes to personal stuff- it was not intended to make anyone feel left out.

     The short version is that I was raped, six years ago, by someone I'd known for a long time as a friend. He told me not to tell anyone and that it was my fault for "being too sexy," and like an idiot, I believed him. I guess the guilt got to him, because he then went and told his wife (and girlfriend... he was not what I'd call a moral person), and they believed it was my fault, and came after me. After much mental and emotional abuse, I finally cut all contact with him, and tried to forget it happened. I didn't tell anyone because, well, it was my fault, right? I know it's not now, but what can I say.

    I hid most of myself from everyone for years afterwards, and the few relationships I attempted went horribly, because I'd internalized his lies that all I was good for was sex. It wasn't until last year, when my sister Suzanne died that it all came back to me, and I started trying to accept it. I was still pretty bitter and closed-in, though, until a chance remark to a friend in WoW opened the door, and he hit me with some hard truths I needed to hear about not letting it hold me back. Maybe I felt it was safe to talk to him because he was only a friend on WoW, and if he considered me a whore and a victim, I could just stop talking to him- I wouldn't potentially lose a close friend or family member.

Friendship

     When I was younger, my dad was in the Navy and we moved around every three years. While on the one hand, this was incredibly mind-opening, it also made keeping friends rather difficult, and I've never been very good at writing letters and staying in touch. I developed a rather lackadaisical attitude towards friendship, and assumed that, since I knew I had to accept our moves and get on with life, leaving my friends behind me, then they must know that as well, and they would forget me as soon as I moved away. The first time I actually moved back to a place I'd lived before, I was stunned that people actually remembered me and wanted to catch up.

     Unfortunately, I've also had some pretty spectacular betrayals handed to me from friends I counted as my closest. Sometimes it was based on guys, sometimes it was based on money, but both of my "best friends" from the two high schools I attended ended up attacking me personally when I finally called them  on their passive aggressive behavior, and another very close friend walked out and left me holding a newly-signed lease on my own. Between the distance that I assumed was part of friendship as a child, and the distance that I put between myself and others after multiple horrible endings, I've never really felt completely comfortable with the idea of friendship.

Attitude, part 1

     Despite the fact that many people have said that they look to me for inspiration on being upbeat, open, and positive in life, if you look back at my past, you'll discover that it's actually relatively recent that this attitude has come to pass. When I graduated high school and joined the work force, I was depressed and angry about life (as are most teenagers), and when I moved out to Colorado six years ago, I was highly mistrustful, hurt, and still pretty angry at the world.

Yeah no, I was just antisocial.

     My first couple roommates out here didn't really give me any motivation to change my attitude, and I remained withdrawn and quiet. When I started my first job out here, as an IT support person, I found myself around other nerds, so the pressure to be social wasn't so bad. I found out I had things in common with some of them, and was, at the least, cordial with co-workers within my own department. A couple months after I'd been working there, they hired another strange, nerdy-type person named Sarah as a technical writer, and she and I struck up a friendship. We would go on walks during lunch and actually (gasp!) talk about our personal lives, rather than just work or public topics.

In sickness and in health

NOTE: Due to time constraints from work and school, I will be dropping this down to one post a week on Mondays only. I would much rather have quality reflections and stories up here than rushing to get slipshod tales completed. Apologies, but life takes precedence. And now, on to the story!

     Looking back, this past week has been pretty dang unpleasant. My life was centered around being sick, and scheduled in between time to take medicine, time to attempt sleep, and time to doze off while getting not very much done. I got out of the house only twice- once to go to the doctor/ pharmacy, and once on Thursday when I couldn't justify skipping another class. For someone who usually likes to be doing or accomplishing things as much as possible, it was not good times.

Loyalty vs selfishness

     One of the things I am really bad at in life is deciding when to call things quits. As I've noted before, I will give people second, third, fourth, and even 108th chances sometimes. The first guy I ever dated was with me for eight years; every year I'd re-evaluate how things were going and convince myself that while things weren't great, they were at least improving, and someday (that mysterious someday), it would all work out. What finally ended that relationship, even after he cheated on me multiple times and almost drove me to bankruptcy when I was 20, was him declaring his love for my sister (who wanted nothing to do with all this), suggesting the three of us live together forever, and then accusing me of not being supportive of him and his desires.

Oh those Russians...

     Sometime in December, my friend Rita invited me to a 'Christmas' celebration at her (Russian orthodox Catholic) church. She had written two plays in Russian for the kids there, and wanted to know if I would be interested in seeing them. Free Russian practice, food, and a chance to support my friends? Sure! Sign me up! All unsuspecting, I headed out there this past Sunday, with no clue what to expect other than crazy Russians and good food. And boy, did I get both.

     To anyone who hasn't had the pleasure of encountering Russian food, let me just say this: Paula Dean would approve. Everything is either cooked or soaked in butter, and while it has more vegetables than I care for, everything is absolutely delicious and filling as can be. Which makes sense, considering the weather out there and the need for stick-to-your-ribs food. They also tend to go heavy on breads/ starches, which I adore, and desserts are less sugary-sweet, and more honey-and-fruit varieties, and again, I approve.

Random sketch day

   Two random sketches for you, since I can't seem to get my head around drawing for the post I had prepared. That'll teach me to write 'em early!

     The first one is one I did on Thursday, when I was having an attack of the abnormals. As per usual, I followed the instructions given by my teacher for a particular assignment, and submitted it online. Once I'd finished it, I checked out what other people had done, just to be sure I was on the right track (oh come on, you know you've done that too!). Of the submissions I could see, almost all of them were these cheery, bright

Realists and unrealists

    In light of my previous post, I'd like to continue taking a look at "-ists" and "-isms" in regards to world views. Specifically, for the purpose of this post, realists. More specifically, how I think that real realists are far less prevalent than they seem to be at first glance. Now, I admit that before I solidified the opinions presented in the optimism post, I, too, considered myself a realist. I tried to take life as it came to me, good and bad, and keep my expectations in the realm of the probable. However, I noticed a disturbing trend that ultimately goaded me into reconsidering my stance on life.

     More and more, when I talk to someone about -isms, the conversation goes something like this:

Bringing sexy back... maybe.

     I recently came across (and subsequently acquired) a shirt that says, "Smart is the new dumb". I'll be honest, I got it primarily because it made me laugh, rather than as any particular societal commentary or whatnot. A few days later, however, I was having a conversation with a friend, and he offered for consideration the phrase, "Nah, in my opinion, smart girls are sexy."

     Individually, the two incidences don't really amount to much- a funny shirt and a random opinion, no worries, right? As usual, however, it got me to thinking. Let's see if my logic bears up to peer review:

Internal landscape

     As I'm sure you've noticed by now, most people in the world can be classified, more or less, into the categories of "neat" or "messy". Naturally, there are gradations within these categories, but in general, people have a tendency to lean towards one side or the other. I tend to fall on the neat side; I like to keep my house in fairly good order, because if I don't, I end up misplacing things and not finding them for a few days, weeks, or years.
     What I find interesting is that, many times, I will let things slide a little bit until something inside me says, "No, no more slacking, it's time to do something about this situation!" And it's not just that way about cleaning either. I'm sure everyone can think of a time where they saw something start to get a little off-kilter, and

Too many cooks

     I recently announced to a friend that I am the queen of analogies (pictures coming soon). With that in mind, I'd like to talk a bit about relationships. Yes, I know that was terrible, but I am not the segue queen, so bear with. I didn't date in high school, which I thought was a fabulous idea at the time, I suspect, however, that combining that with my first relationship being eight years long and rather negative, I missed out on some rather formative experiences in life. 

     One of the things I am horrifically bad at is knowing when to end things. I am horrible about giving people not just second and third chances, but even 156th and 398th chances, all the while quietly sinking into the quagmire of my self-contempt and their abuse. Terrible, I know, but it stems from wanting to believe the best

A more serious note.

     Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I quite simply told someone that I did not want to pursue the possibility of re-opening a friendship. As simple as it seems, this was quite possibly one of the hardest thing I'd done in my life. I don't like hurting people, so I usually end up hanging around until things reach absolute breaking point, and I just walk away from it all. In this case, however, I felt it best to step up and just be honest.
    Brief background: I grew up as a military brat, so I never really had to deal with having people around who don't like how I grow and change. Every three years, there was a new batch of people, a chance to explore new things, and grow into a new person. While this does wonders for one's sense of adventure and willingness to accept different ideals, it leaves one slightly gimped in the area of how to deal with change-

Name change... again...

An interesting fact to note, and one that is starting to become important in my life: The Social Security office has a limit on the number of cards they will issue you. You may only receive 3 within one year, or ten within your lifetime. Being as that I'm working on my fourth now, I need to watch out!

Almost a decade ago, I got my first name legally changed. As with (almost) all major life decisions, I took my time doing it to ensure I wouldn't regret it. After trying out different names to find one that fit me- a process that took over 2 years, actually- I insisted that everyone around me use the new name for a year or so, just to make sure it was the right one. I took my paperwork to the court, got my name changed, and went through all the usual processes: social security, driver's license, voter registration, and bills. At the time, it seemed a fairly easy process, probably because I lived in a town that had all of those offices at reasonable distances and locations.

Last year, I got married. Once again, I got my name changed, and had to go through the process of updating everyone else on the matter, but I had someone with me this time, and the waiting was easier. Also, the town into which I had moved had all the offices conveniently located close to each other again, so it was mostly easy drives out, medium wait times, and filing paperwork. There was a little bit of trouble with things like my passport (have you SEEN the prices for passports lately?!) and the fact that the court that had issued my carry

Wanting and having.

What is it about bad food that makes us want it so much? It's easy to point the finger at MSG (and believe me, I do) for making junk food so tasty, but i think there's a deeper issue here.

Since we are both currently unemployed/ out of school, my beau (I hate the word boyfriend, seriously...) and I spent the last two days together, just happy to hang out, talk, and do a little shopping. I know he's trying to do the low carb/ no carb thing, so I brought down sufficient eggs and bagels to see me through, and resigned myself to eating absolutely delicious, but bread-free meals. Don't get me wrong, I'm trying to cut down on "empty" carbs too- I now use wheat flour, whole grain crackers, and multi-grain bagels, and tried to cut superfluous sugar out of my daily diet as well, but I still have things stashed around the house should the craving hit too hard. After two days of having fruit for snacks, meat and fruit for dinner, the same plus rice for lunch, and my usual egg and bagel breakfast, however, I was seriously craving something.

Things I have learned today:

1. If you want me to go insane, put me in a menial office job with no mental stimulation or sunlight. I'll last 3 days then start losing it.
   
2. I am mildly dyslexic with numbers, and this comes out more strongly when I'm going insane.
   
3. Just because I'm good or efficient at something, doesn't mean I want to do it. Usually, I get efficient at it so it can be over with faster.
   
4. If you want something done prettily, don't ask me to do it. I'll do it the fastest way to get the most effective job done, but it won't be pretty. You want pretty, you pay me a lot more, give me sunlight, and let me move around a lot. Machine conditions result in machine work, and that includes using scissors