Stressed was pressed into my middle name...
Lay down.
Roll over.
Play dead.
I've been tired.
Stressed.
Our trip to Italy was amazing
(of course it was!!!)
but the friend we brought along
curbed our enthusiasm
a bit.
Despite loving my friend
and her many (many!) personal strengths
our relationship was strained
over those 9 days.
She's the sort of lady who you can tell which guys she's attracted to,
by how combative she is when talking with them.
The more combative she is, the more attracted she is.
She is the sort who masks feelings of uncertainty,
confusion, pain, insecurity, or lack of control
with generalized aggression and
occasional outright hostility.
[Ever love someone like that?]
She also lives in an interior competitive hierarchy
that must be maintained.
Everyone, everything is being compared and judged.
Failure to rise to her secret expectations is condemned
and attempts to quibble or argue with the judgement are met with disdain
and curt replies.
Of course, she does this to herself as well,
which conveniently doubles as a self-perpetuating insecurity machine.
By day 3 I was at a loss.
Sailor was fed up.
We were hoping to enjoy the great cities of Italy
Yet our companion's comments became almost universally negative
and my attempts to buoy the conversation with my own
gratitude/pleasure/excitement
was met with anger or hurt feelings.
Knowing friction was a possibility,
I planned a side trip for Sailor and I for our anniversary night.
It was good timing.
When we returned on Day 5
she started the conversation we needed.
She felt we weren't listening to her.
We are dismissing her and arguing with her.
When I pointed out the acerbic speech
and tendency toward snarky comments
and offered alternative perspectives on situations...
she expressed that she will then just be quiet
since we apparently don't want her to express herself naturally
and she feels like she is being attacked and invalidated.
She argued that they were not 'complaints'
they were simply 'observations'
and resented all assumptions
that her stream of negative-sounding responses
was indeed negative
and perhaps someone in this conversation
(spoiler: me! It's me!) doesn't understand
sarcasm/dry humor/wit/class/experience/taste/etc.
I try to shrug and admit
sure, maybe it's me.
TOTAL POSSIBILITY.
I suck at perfection
but I am sorry she has been feeling bad.
I explain that speaking for myself,
have also been feeling 'not great'
about things.
But I also tell her I did not ask for her silence,
but if she is being natural.. then so am I.
I rebut, rebuke, confirm, deny, compose as a part of conversation... as well.
Let's dialogue... I am not a great companion to monologues
where my feedback is not welcome.
Unless... is this a performance?
I waggle my eyebrows, Groucho style
to let out the steam, hoping for peace between us.
She admits she'd rather talk,
and WE be quiet... she is not asking our opinions
she is simply stating hers
and it is not an invitation to conversation,
it is simply... a personal expression of her truth in the moment.
We should listen or ignore as we are comfortable,
and our comments (confirmation or contrary) are equally unnecessary.
She opens up that maybe...
that isn't... great.
I apologize for any/all misunderstandings
and hurt feelings because, that is both easy and honest.
She apologies by saying she will try for more positivity.
But, how DO you talk about the most touchy/personal subjects
that are most likely to spark off the behavior you are trying to address?
Say like.... "insecurity" and "defensiveness".
When a person is already feeling so insecure and acting defensive
that they are struggling to function
peacefully with their group
which is only making them more insecure,
and augmenting their self-defensive behavior?
Because my route is probably
not the right one.
It goes like this:
Wait patiently and listen with love.
That problem is often already in their lives
in other forms. Look for similarities.
If that person happens to talk about a problem
THEY have with someone else
that is actually very much like the same problem
you are having with them
- divert the conversation with interest
to the concept itself
and how to handle it
... rather than any specific person.
"How DO you talk about defensiveness
with someone being defensive,
when defensiveness requires the person
to utilize their defensiveness
to defend against that line of questioning?
It's hard, right?
How would YOU handle someone...
being like that?
Has it ever worked?"
If I think they're on to me,
I might include a pointed look
that morphs into a jazzy smile
and sincerely animated shrug that says,
"No, really... how?
Because you can either acknowledge that you know what I'm talking about,
and we talk for real,
or you ignore the whole thing all together and run away from the topic.
Your choice."
So there were pins.
There were needles.
There were eggshells.
Everyone felt them.
Everyone danced around each other,
just trying to
be comfortable
with each other.
Everyone was uncomfortable.
We still had fun times.
Exciting times.
Beautiful times.
Together and apart.
Memories were made.
But it didn't feel like a vacation
it felt more like an emotional gauntlet...
... that happened in Italy.
It reminded me of one infamous
camping trip.
[Quick Review]
My friend's new wife
had invited me on her birthday weekend camping trip.
We'd only met two or three times before so
I was flattered and happy to be invited.
When I arrived I learned some things about his new wife.
-She had a serious anxiety disorder.
-She had never been camping before.
-She hated all bugs.
-She was VERY afraid of moths/butterflies.
-She demanded we kill any moth/butterfly she saw.
-She berated anyone who didn't comply.
-She didn't seem to have 'old friends'... ONLY 'new friends'.
-She took hallucinogens for the first time - in a place she was highly anxious already
-Which... was not fun for anyone.
It is not her fault she has anxiety or fears.
But it WAS a terrible camping trip (for me).
Italy wasn't like that...
but it does bring that memory to mind.
On the trip, it felt like meeting someone new,
despite knowing her for almost 15 years.
I saw sides of her I had forgotten existed.
I admit, they weren't totally NEW though.
She has incrementally dropped her guard in our friendship over the years,
but in Italy she was on Full Alert
and On Guard.. and there was no escape from her defense mechanisms.
Sometimes love is hard.
And sometimes we are hard on love.
For the last week in Italy - Sailor and I were on our own,
and things were suddenly back on track
and our vacation began
in earnest.
We relaxed. We laughed.
We shamelessly enjoyed every - single - minute
which is what we usually do together!
We didn't feel bad about being positively happy,
no matter what happened...
... and we didn't feel the need to combat negativity
just to BE positively happy.
Food! Museums!
Museums! Food!
Spritz! Food!
Museums!
(also hot days, long walks, sore feet,
long lines, expensive entry fees, overheated galleries,
confusing buses, late trains, missed connections, and all the other stuff
travel may throw at you.. but who cares
because there is cool gelato and beautiful sights everywhere!)
After we returned to the Home Front
my mom send a cryptic set of text messages
which culminated in a wildly dramatic "confession"
and an explicit demand for punishment and/or forgiveness
because she took some stuff from the barn when we were gone
without asking,
specifically planning to do it
while we were away.
You may remember,
we bought the house from her 4 years ago.
You may also remember,
she is a hoarder.
You may also remember we gave her a year to get anything/everything she wanted
and she took many truckloads over that year,
and yet she still continues to want more...
... more....
........MORE...
She couldn't take it all in a year.
She hasn't been able to take it all even after 4 years!
While we have spent the last 4 years
cleaning up piles of generalized trash,
broken things,
rotted things,
things full of live mice,
things full of dead mice,
things full of cat crap,
falling over things,
sun-baked things,
hazardous materials,
and other once-useful items affected by entropy and time
that have decayed beyond original use...
[It continues...]
We have been sorting
all the other piles, too.
Using what we can,
donating what we can,
recycling what we can,
and trashing what we have to.
Rinse. Repeat.
... she has been coveting every scrap
and bemoaning each "valuable" loss.
Ugh.
Every change to the property is an offense to her.
She takes it as an explicit cruel insult
to her 40 years of life here.
Every change is an excitement for us.
We have hauled off so much trash.
Actual. Trash.
THOUSANDS OF POUNDS OF IT.
Degraded plastic and rusty tin cans
and rotten hoses and
broken sprinklers and
cracked flat tires and
piles of wood so softened by sun, rain, moss, mildew, and mold
it falls apart in our hands
and the rusty nails and mismatched screws
that held it together into something
(part of a fence?
A pallet? A gate?
A hitching post?
A step stool?
A playhouse?) for so long
they reach out to bite us
for our trespass
and degradation of its ancestral homeland in The Pile.
We found a 5 pound box of nails...
the cardboard rotted into paper,
buried in the dirt among the roots...
slowly poisoning the lovely mature Maple tree.
She had her chance to do as she pleased.
Now it is our turn.
It's the circle of life, Mom.
So... we've been navigating these two relationships
that suddenly got rocky this summer.
It wasn't ALL doom and/gloom.
I also went on a camping trip with a group of beloved Lady Friends
and had a great time!
We went to our friend's birthday party.
I've been going to concerts again!
YAY! Live music!!
We have gone out to dinner
and stayed in,
and just... relaxed
despite the background stress.
I have been working 45 hour weeks
(note: I am scheduled for 20 hours/week)
at work catching up from the vacation.
We started filming again for the show I help produce
and our General Manager told me to start a podcast
for our TV station around that music show.
RIGHT. NOW.
Uhh... ok?
Can do, my boss' boss!
Aye-aye!
I'm back to doing more photography for the station.
Going to big meetings with the local museums
and state curriculum board
and the marketing department for a supportive Credit Union
and ... whatever else comes along my way.
These past few weeks have been recovering from the trip.
Physically...
(my feet swelled into baked hams on the plane??
THAT HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!!)
and emotionally
after the push/pull with our friend and my mom.
Catching up on the house.
On work.
With friends.
If you watch the news,
or live in the PNW
you know that it has been HOT.
Of course it's been hot everywhere,
but... lord....
... its been hot.
So we stay inside.
The garden weeps.
We've also been trying to figure out money
and our property.
How to have enough space
since our plot is large,
but our home is small
and our hobbies multitudinous.
But today....
Today felt NEW.
Back in the groove.
Energy restored.
Mental space cleared.
Struggling relationships... not healed,
but... found a path through
the hurt feelings
(on our side).
Sailor and I planned to be busy today,
each on our own things.
Cleaning and making and maintaining.
Helping and building and taking care of.
But instead... we slept in.
We made love.
He had a surprise for me...
as I lay sweaty and panting in bed
satisfied with my sins
in our overheated house
he brought out
a comically ENORMOUS FAN
(seriously... more than 5 feet wide)
he'd recently secretly purchased apparently
.... and fanned me gently
like some luxuriating aristocratic sexpot in an HBO semi-historical series
as they prepare for some dramatic plot-twist
"Do you feel like a queen?"
-"Why yes. Yes. I. DO!"
"Good."
**continues fanning**
Afterwards, we worked out what to do with my mom.
I have just the card to send her with our thoughts.
On the front it just says,
"This sucks"
I retired back to bed...
a book and a nap were in order.
I read.
I napped.
I read.
I napped.
I read.
I got up.
In the meantime Sailor had made a decision.
He was going to carve awhile,
and practice his gold-leaf technique
to make me scale model of
Maurizio Cattelan's "America"
for my toys to "use"/interact with.
Why does he do these things for me?
I do not know.
I only know he is perfect.
Absolutely perfectly kind,
sweet, thoughtful,
and fun.
Unbelievably wonderful.
And so... I write.
And I write.
And I write.
Because I wonder where the time has gone.
It sunk into this place of emotional loss,
and hurt, and tiredness,
and trepidation,
and anger,
and fear,
and a loss of patience
and a loss of connection
with people I love
but struggle to understand.
Struggle to communicate with,
because there are just too many landmines
in the worlds that separate us
that I am being dared to cross.
And now it is time
to move forward...
into another week...
and decide
how the rest of my life will go
one day at a time
because despite the frustrations
with people I love
I can't help
but Choose Happiness.
I know depression and anxiety
and ALL SORTS OF REAL LIFE THINGS
may make that feel impossible
for people.
But I can,
and therefore I will
keep choosing happiness.
Even if it pisses some people off.
Roll over.
Play dead.
I've been tired.
Stressed.
Our trip to Italy was amazing
(of course it was!!!)
but the friend we brought along
curbed our enthusiasm
a bit.
Despite loving my friend
and her many (many!) personal strengths
our relationship was strained
over those 9 days.
She's the sort of lady who you can tell which guys she's attracted to,
by how combative she is when talking with them.
The more combative she is, the more attracted she is.
She is the sort who masks feelings of uncertainty,
confusion, pain, insecurity, or lack of control
with generalized aggression and
occasional outright hostility.
[Ever love someone like that?]
She also lives in an interior competitive hierarchy
that must be maintained.
Everyone, everything is being compared and judged.
Failure to rise to her secret expectations is condemned
and attempts to quibble or argue with the judgement are met with disdain
and curt replies.
Of course, she does this to herself as well,
which conveniently doubles as a self-perpetuating insecurity machine.
By day 3 I was at a loss.
Sailor was fed up.
We were hoping to enjoy the great cities of Italy
Yet our companion's comments became almost universally negative
and my attempts to buoy the conversation with my own
gratitude/pleasure/excitement
was met with anger or hurt feelings.
Knowing friction was a possibility,
I planned a side trip for Sailor and I for our anniversary night.
It was good timing.
When we returned on Day 5
she started the conversation we needed.
She felt we weren't listening to her.
We are dismissing her and arguing with her.
When I pointed out the acerbic speech
and tendency toward snarky comments
and offered alternative perspectives on situations...
she expressed that she will then just be quiet
since we apparently don't want her to express herself naturally
and she feels like she is being attacked and invalidated.
She argued that they were not 'complaints'
they were simply 'observations'
and resented all assumptions
that her stream of negative-sounding responses
was indeed negative
and perhaps someone in this conversation
(spoiler: me! It's me!) doesn't understand
sarcasm/dry humor/wit/class/experience/taste/etc.
I try to shrug and admit
sure, maybe it's me.
TOTAL POSSIBILITY.
I suck at perfection
but I am sorry she has been feeling bad.
I explain that speaking for myself,
have also been feeling 'not great'
about things.
But I also tell her I did not ask for her silence,
but if she is being natural.. then so am I.
I rebut, rebuke, confirm, deny, compose as a part of conversation... as well.
Let's dialogue... I am not a great companion to monologues
where my feedback is not welcome.
Unless... is this a performance?
I waggle my eyebrows, Groucho style
to let out the steam, hoping for peace between us.
She admits she'd rather talk,
and WE be quiet... she is not asking our opinions
she is simply stating hers
and it is not an invitation to conversation,
it is simply... a personal expression of her truth in the moment.
We should listen or ignore as we are comfortable,
and our comments (confirmation or contrary) are equally unnecessary.
She opens up that maybe...
that isn't... great.
I apologize for any/all misunderstandings
and hurt feelings because, that is both easy and honest.
She apologies by saying she will try for more positivity.
But, how DO you talk about the most touchy/personal subjects
that are most likely to spark off the behavior you are trying to address?
Say like.... "insecurity" and "defensiveness".
When a person is already feeling so insecure and acting defensive
that they are struggling to function
peacefully with their group
which is only making them more insecure,
and augmenting their self-defensive behavior?
Because my route is probably
not the right one.
It goes like this:
Wait patiently and listen with love.
That problem is often already in their lives
in other forms. Look for similarities.
If that person happens to talk about a problem
THEY have with someone else
that is actually very much like the same problem
you are having with them
- divert the conversation with interest
to the concept itself
and how to handle it
... rather than any specific person.
"How DO you talk about defensiveness
with someone being defensive,
when defensiveness requires the person
to utilize their defensiveness
to defend against that line of questioning?
It's hard, right?
How would YOU handle someone...
being like that?
Has it ever worked?"
If I think they're on to me,
I might include a pointed look
that morphs into a jazzy smile
and sincerely animated shrug that says,
"No, really... how?
Because you can either acknowledge that you know what I'm talking about,
and we talk for real,
or you ignore the whole thing all together and run away from the topic.
Your choice."
So there were pins.
There were needles.
There were eggshells.
Everyone felt them.
Everyone danced around each other,
just trying to
be comfortable
with each other.
Everyone was uncomfortable.
We still had fun times.
Exciting times.
Beautiful times.
Together and apart.
Memories were made.
But it didn't feel like a vacation
it felt more like an emotional gauntlet...
... that happened in Italy.
It reminded me of one infamous
camping trip.
[Quick Review]
My friend's new wife
had invited me on her birthday weekend camping trip.
We'd only met two or three times before so
I was flattered and happy to be invited.
When I arrived I learned some things about his new wife.
-She had a serious anxiety disorder.
-She had never been camping before.
-She hated all bugs.
-She was VERY afraid of moths/butterflies.
-She demanded we kill any moth/butterfly she saw.
-She berated anyone who didn't comply.
-She didn't seem to have 'old friends'... ONLY 'new friends'.
-She took hallucinogens for the first time - in a place she was highly anxious already
-Which... was not fun for anyone.
It is not her fault she has anxiety or fears.
But it WAS a terrible camping trip (for me).
Italy wasn't like that...
but it does bring that memory to mind.
On the trip, it felt like meeting someone new,
despite knowing her for almost 15 years.
I saw sides of her I had forgotten existed.
I admit, they weren't totally NEW though.
She has incrementally dropped her guard in our friendship over the years,
but in Italy she was on Full Alert
and On Guard.. and there was no escape from her defense mechanisms.
Sometimes love is hard.
And sometimes we are hard on love.
For the last week in Italy - Sailor and I were on our own,
and things were suddenly back on track
and our vacation began
in earnest.
We relaxed. We laughed.
We shamelessly enjoyed every - single - minute
which is what we usually do together!
We didn't feel bad about being positively happy,
no matter what happened...
... and we didn't feel the need to combat negativity
just to BE positively happy.
Food! Museums!
Museums! Food!
Spritz! Food!
Museums!
(also hot days, long walks, sore feet,
long lines, expensive entry fees, overheated galleries,
confusing buses, late trains, missed connections, and all the other stuff
travel may throw at you.. but who cares
because there is cool gelato and beautiful sights everywhere!)
After we returned to the Home Front
my mom send a cryptic set of text messages
which culminated in a wildly dramatic "confession"
and an explicit demand for punishment and/or forgiveness
because she took some stuff from the barn when we were gone
without asking,
specifically planning to do it
while we were away.
You may remember,
we bought the house from her 4 years ago.
You may also remember,
she is a hoarder.
You may also remember we gave her a year to get anything/everything she wanted
and she took many truckloads over that year,
and yet she still continues to want more...
... more....
........MORE...
She couldn't take it all in a year.
She hasn't been able to take it all even after 4 years!
While we have spent the last 4 years
cleaning up piles of generalized trash,
broken things,
rotted things,
things full of live mice,
things full of dead mice,
things full of cat crap,
falling over things,
sun-baked things,
hazardous materials,
and other once-useful items affected by entropy and time
that have decayed beyond original use...
[It continues...]
We have been sorting
all the other piles, too.
Using what we can,
donating what we can,
recycling what we can,
and trashing what we have to.
Rinse. Repeat.
... she has been coveting every scrap
and bemoaning each "valuable" loss.
Ugh.
Every change to the property is an offense to her.
She takes it as an explicit cruel insult
to her 40 years of life here.
Every change is an excitement for us.
We have hauled off so much trash.
Actual. Trash.
THOUSANDS OF POUNDS OF IT.
Degraded plastic and rusty tin cans
and rotten hoses and
broken sprinklers and
cracked flat tires and
piles of wood so softened by sun, rain, moss, mildew, and mold
it falls apart in our hands
and the rusty nails and mismatched screws
that held it together into something
(part of a fence?
A pallet? A gate?
A hitching post?
A step stool?
A playhouse?) for so long
they reach out to bite us
for our trespass
and degradation of its ancestral homeland in The Pile.
We found a 5 pound box of nails...
the cardboard rotted into paper,
buried in the dirt among the roots...
slowly poisoning the lovely mature Maple tree.
She had her chance to do as she pleased.
Now it is our turn.
It's the circle of life, Mom.
So... we've been navigating these two relationships
that suddenly got rocky this summer.
It wasn't ALL doom and/gloom.
I also went on a camping trip with a group of beloved Lady Friends
and had a great time!
We went to our friend's birthday party.
I've been going to concerts again!
YAY! Live music!!
We have gone out to dinner
and stayed in,
and just... relaxed
despite the background stress.
I have been working 45 hour weeks
(note: I am scheduled for 20 hours/week)
at work catching up from the vacation.
We started filming again for the show I help produce
and our General Manager told me to start a podcast
for our TV station around that music show.
RIGHT. NOW.
Uhh... ok?
Can do, my boss' boss!
Aye-aye!
I'm back to doing more photography for the station.
Going to big meetings with the local museums
and state curriculum board
and the marketing department for a supportive Credit Union
and ... whatever else comes along my way.
These past few weeks have been recovering from the trip.
Physically...
(my feet swelled into baked hams on the plane??
THAT HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE!!)
and emotionally
after the push/pull with our friend and my mom.
Catching up on the house.
On work.
With friends.
If you watch the news,
or live in the PNW
you know that it has been HOT.
Of course it's been hot everywhere,
but... lord....
... its been hot.
So we stay inside.
The garden weeps.
We've also been trying to figure out money
and our property.
How to have enough space
since our plot is large,
but our home is small
and our hobbies multitudinous.
But today....
Today felt NEW.
Back in the groove.
Energy restored.
Mental space cleared.
Struggling relationships... not healed,
but... found a path through
the hurt feelings
(on our side).
Sailor and I planned to be busy today,
each on our own things.
Cleaning and making and maintaining.
Helping and building and taking care of.
But instead... we slept in.
We made love.
He had a surprise for me...
as I lay sweaty and panting in bed
satisfied with my sins
in our overheated house
he brought out
a comically ENORMOUS FAN
(seriously... more than 5 feet wide)
he'd recently secretly purchased apparently
.... and fanned me gently
like some luxuriating aristocratic sexpot in an HBO semi-historical series
as they prepare for some dramatic plot-twist
"Do you feel like a queen?"
-"Why yes. Yes. I. DO!"
"Good."
**continues fanning**
Afterwards, we worked out what to do with my mom.
I have just the card to send her with our thoughts.
On the front it just says,
"This sucks"
I retired back to bed...
a book and a nap were in order.
I read.
I napped.
I read.
I napped.
I read.
I got up.
In the meantime Sailor had made a decision.
He was going to carve awhile,
and practice his gold-leaf technique
to make me scale model of
Maurizio Cattelan's "America"
for my toys to "use"/interact with.
Why does he do these things for me?
I do not know.
I only know he is perfect.
Absolutely perfectly kind,
sweet, thoughtful,
and fun.
Unbelievably wonderful.
And so... I write.
And I write.
And I write.
Because I wonder where the time has gone.
It sunk into this place of emotional loss,
and hurt, and tiredness,
and trepidation,
and anger,
and fear,
and a loss of patience
and a loss of connection
with people I love
but struggle to understand.
Struggle to communicate with,
because there are just too many landmines
in the worlds that separate us
that I am being dared to cross.
And now it is time
to move forward...
into another week...
and decide
how the rest of my life will go
one day at a time
because despite the frustrations
with people I love
I can't help
but Choose Happiness.
I know depression and anxiety
and ALL SORTS OF REAL LIFE THINGS
may make that feel impossible
for people.
But I can,
and therefore I will
keep choosing happiness.
Even if it pisses some people off.