Writing to Petra

Dear Petra,

Oh, I misled you, saying “that was ours” about our Thanksgiving dinner. I did make myself something else to eat: macaroni with loads of mozzarella and cheddar, seasoned with garlic and onion powders and salt n’ peppa. I didn’t want to insult Fella’s efforts, as we oughtn’t to complain when someone cooks enough for us, but at the same time he knew I wouldn’t like what he was making, so he couldn’t claim he made “us” a meal, could he?

He’s behaving himself since one day last week when I was walking and he stopped to give me a lift home because it was cold and the passenger door on the truck was locked so I waited for him to unlock it and then tried again after he clicked the lock but it still wouldn’t open and, when he realized that, he blamed me and hollered “Get your hand off the fucking handle!” and even if my hand had been on the handle, which it wasn’t, that is no way to talk to me if you are my friend. I just walked on, no longer willing to get into that vehicle with him. A couple days later I thought he was rude to me again, and gave him shit. So he’s been watching his words.

All this to say that this morning we kissed and hugged in the kitchen before he left for the day, and that was very nice. It is what I want every day and don’t see why I can’t have it. What’s the point of living with the man otherwise?

I’m looking at my future and wondering what I’ll end up doing. I wonder if, money needs aside, I’ll have to do something because having complete freedom might be a little too loose eventually, maybe I’ll want some imposed structure.

I booked my plane tickets for Fri 28 Oct, thinking we’d drive from here to Calgary a day or two before, and then I’d fly back from B.C. on Tues 1 Nov and we’d stay overnight and drive home the next day. That would give Fella six nights there and five full days to spend with his boy and visit his relatives, and I wouldn’t be stuck in Calgary any longer than necessary. Fella’s relatives are okay but I would rather visit my own, and I’m sure he feels the same, so this seemed to me a perfect plan. Now he may not be able to get away on that October date and that means the plane tickets I bought with Dad’s air miles may be wasted, because I’m not willing to drive to Calgary alone from here and leave my car there while I’m in BC, nor am I willing to take the bus to get there as I have promised myself never again to take a bus ride that is longer than four hours. I’ve looked at buying plane tickets to/from Calgary on the days I have the other ones purchased, but there are none available that are at good times; I would be vulnerable to missing flights because of cutting arrival times too close to the next departure time, or I’d be getting up at three in the morning, another thing I’ve decided not to do to myself anymore just to save money. And if I went a day early I’d have to stay in Calgary with Fella’s son or sister (or stay in hotels I guess, but why would I want to do that either). I hate being there. I like them well enough but don’t want to spend any more time with them than I have to. God I’m awful.

Love,

Izzy

PS. For many years I thought “misled” was pronounced MY-zelled and did not know what it meant.

When is a Friend not a Friend

J, in our email exchanges, has been saying that it’s too bad I quit my job because of “annoyance” and that people should put their family’s need for money first and put up with the bullshit. I told her that I had already put up with plenty of annoyance from this man for eight months and that his behaviour this time went beyond annoyance, and was abusive.

She went on to say that she cried many mornings on her way to work at a job she held for years (sick because of abusive behaviour of other staff and management, which she chooses to think of as only annoying) but kept the job anyway, and that it doesn’t seem “fair” that I don’t have to do the same.

I’m shaking my head here. You chose to suffer through bullshit that made you sick and miserable for many years, so I should?

Honestly, I sometimes wonder why I continue this correspondence.

Recently in a meditation I was told not to listen to J or let her attitudes upset me and make me doubt my own thoughts and choices. Of course I did not tell J this, but I have mentioned that I’ve received a lot of truths in my meditations and even though I question them and am cynical sometimes, what I learn in meditations has always, so far, turned out to be correct when time-tested.

She has tried to convince me that meditation is not to be trusted; apparently this has been her experience with her own, which have led her astray. If one’s “higher power” is only herself, she said, that leaves her without hope.

I didn’t say anything about a higher power. I talked about my “inner self” and my “higher self,” among other aspects of myself that I meet with in visualizations. This is simply a tool for understanding my own being, which I find has a lot of wisdom if I actually hear what it has to say.

It seems as if she is attempting to validate her own life decisions by convincing me that I should have made the same ones, that I’ve been selfish and immature and weak by thinking my own self is important or deserving of good things. Has she drank the Kool-Aid that’s taught women for centuries that “good” and “valuable” women only serve others and sacrifice their own health and happiness to do so? I think she has, and doesn’t realize it.

For some reason, though, I’m unable to let go of seeing her as a wise and gentle soul, even as I learn, as time goes by, that she’s actually a real mess. Am I just being stubborn and insisting on seeing the best in her, when her friendship (if that’s what this is) is actually dragging me backwards when I give her ideas too much credit and consideration? At the very least, she presents me with attitudes that are negative, the kind that hold people back from being who they are or really want to be. I think about the things she says, trying to be honest with myself — whether they are true and I’m being self-indulgent and spoiled (these aren’t her words; I’m paraphrasing) — but I’m glad I have the strength of mind not to accept the attitudes of people who seem to have little respect for their own selves and so try to make me feel less than I am.

 

As Rotten as the Next Person

 

I like to think I’m not a vindictive person. I see it in others and am glad I’m not that way; that I wouldn’t deliberately hurt another person in order to punish them for what I perceive as their wrongdoing. I see others holding grudges for a long time and I think that is a shame and am glad I don’t do it, that I’m more forgiving.

Hm.

But is it true?

Or do I, too, like to hold onto my anger?

Maybe I’m not grudging and vindictive too often because people rarely do me any real wrong, so I haven’t recognized it in myself till now. But when they do? Goodness, I can be as nasty as the next unevolved person!

My love for the newspaper has dissipated. I used to be in a hurry to read it; now I skip over anything written or even possibly written by The Asshole, and over everything else that bored the shit out of me while I was working there and had no choice but to read it and fix it up. I now read only articles and columns written by others, and the classified and display ads so I’ll know what’s coming up.

I still have the archives for the last historical page I put together. I’ve been in town and have them in the car to be returned, but will have to force myself to go into the office and haven’t felt any pressing reason to do so. Especially if I see his vehicle there, but even when it isn’t.

Our subscription to the paper is due at the end of December and may be cancelled even sooner, as it was free while I worked there. I won’t renew it, though I have been a subscriber for about 20 years.

I bought a subscription for Dad, as I do every year for Xmas/birthday, and this year for my sister and also my brother for the first time. I won’t renew any of them. If Dad asks me to, I’ll tell him he’ll have to call the office himself.

I’ll find other gifts to give them instead of their hometown paper.

I can’t imagine myself being friendly to The Asshole in public, although I don’t think I’d be rude or uncivil, either, but I think I might cross the street to avoid him.

I hope my former employer gets smart, for her sake, and fires him. I – heaven help me – wish him harm.

I’m bad! I wouldn’t permit myself to cast a spell or anything like that, but only because I believe doing vengeful things causes an ugly dive in your moral balance and comes back on you, making you sorry you joined an asshole on his low rung of the ladder of life, because you thought you were better than that and you have always tried to be.

I don’t think I’d be unkind to him in person, and an apology (not expected, for sure; that would require him acting like an adult) would be accepted with good grace and might dissipate some of my anger. But I’ve lost my ability to think of him as a person who deserves my respect or consideration. Now all I want to do is completely purge him from my memory and my mind.

I am pretty sure that anger and resentment aren’t helping me with that.

I’ve told other people with similar feelings to imagine the “wrongdoer” as a small child, lonely, frightened and crying. This elicits sympathy and caring and helps release the dislike and anger; “Anything that isn’t an expression of love is a cry for help,” yadayada; we want to feel compassion for people when they are so fucked up that they act like assholes.

But I can’t bring myself to do this visualization, because I don’t want that man taking up space in my head. He already does due to my pissed-off state whenever I recall his behaviour, and I want him out of there now, completely and forever.

Sigh. Maybe I need the anger. Maybe that’s what’s going on. Maybe I need it to help me carry on through the changes due to being jobless right now. If that’s the case, okay; use it. It’s not as if it’s an invalid emotion; I’ll let myself experience it, I’ll acknowledge it, I’ll live it while it lasts. But I hope soon I will instead be laughing at the absurdity of his behaviour instead of being mortified by it. After all, I don’t have to put up with him anymore and feel sorry for those who do.