It's been almost a week since I blogged last. When was the last time THAT happened?!
Had company over the weekend (15 ppl!), got sick from overdoing it, went to work for S-- who doesn't have internet-- then I spent 26 hours on the road, followed by a few days recovering.
Working for S is always a challenge to my heart, and not just because it's where D used to live. (Actually, this time around, I found that I am quite satisfied with the fact that things didn't work out with D. Listening to some of the things S said about him, I realized that he was/is totally not ready for anything serious, and that's what I was wanting. No wonder he ran off and wouldn't talk to me! Which is a huge red flag for not being able to communicate through difficulties... Yeah. I'm glad that one didn't work out, in retrospect.)
You see, S is very lonely and unhappy. M is described by S as a workaholic and emotionally distant, though he seems like a nice enough guy to me. (Then again, I'm also not his wife...) So she performs in order to win/keep his esteem and affection and respect. That being said, anyone that she brings in to help her is automatically under the same pressure that she puts upon herself, because the how the hired help performs reflects on her performance, and she's got a lot more at stake than just gas money. Love is on the line for her, and so the pressure becomes stifling. It feels like I can't do anything right, like I'm this big clumsy oaf, and it's awful. Not that she says anything disparaging, because that's just not her style. It's more of a lack of affirmation and the constant flow of comments that let you know that her way is the way that will work-- always. Her way is the way, and it's the best way, and your way just really isn't good enough for any number of reasons. It's enough to shrink a person to lilliputian size, to just let that frail woman walk all over you because it's easier than trying to prove yourself night and day.
And maybe that's what she needs-- the knowledge that she's good, she's the best, she's worth something... because she feels that she has no worth outside of her immaculate housekeeping and prolific canning and gardening...?
What a sad life.
Somewhere on the last day, I put my finger on it-- I was succumbing to a "shame attack". The tapes in my head that replay that discordant refrain of "not good enough, never good enough" were kickstarting again, and I was really feeling low. (That always happens over there...) I was gearing up to outperform, to overdo, to win affection and approval by force, if necessary. Then I realized what was happening. I wasn't able to totally stifle and stymie those tapes, but it was better. I realized that I don't want to live that way anymore, I don't want to be that person. I needed to do my best, to be sure, but toward what end? Toward the end of simply knowing that I've done all I can do, and done it to the best of my ability, and that a streak on the window doesn't somehow lessen my value or lower my lovability. (Yeah, ridiculous, right? But that's the kind of pressure that broods in that home.)
I didn't realize until spending time teetering on the verge of that trap how very free I've become. And I relish it.
S and I parted on good terms, but I was sure glad to hightail it out of there. I managed to pack everything into my little Buick, and the car held up well for the return trip. About twelve hours in, it got a little sluggish, but I had to keep plugging along. I am not sure I've ever been so anxious to get home.
I got very sick on the way, and I am now convinced that I have a potent potato allergy. That, in conjunction with the altitude and the heat, made me very ill. I had to stop and rest for an hour, talking on the phone with Mom to calm me down, because I was experiencing asthma-like symptoms and I had nothing with me to help with asthma. That happened again in the wee hours of the morning, but I called C that time. (Common denominator? Baked lentil chips with potato starch and flour as the second and third ingredients. And a semi-asthmatic response as well as the gut pain. No, no anaphylaxis, please!!)
I do miss the NW, to be sure. I miss the S's. I miss K, but I'll have those beautiful business cards she came up with as a consolation prize.
The day before I left to S's house, C and I sat on the bench outside with prickly pear lemonade in fancy glasses, and just chatted. I want to send her a little thank you note for that, because it was really wonderful. I miss having that mother figure around, because I don't have that in these parts. I'm the adult, here. Mer.
Ahh, but the homecoming was grand. I was tired, but I made it. (Two 5-hour energy drinks is what it takes to get me to or from ID safely, I've found. They typically last me about 8 hours.)
I walked into C's room and he didn't know who had just come in, but when he saw me he leapt out of the chair, and we embraced. My arms around him, his arms around me, one hand on the back of my neck holding me to him... it felt like he was cradling me, and it was so nice. We swayed back and forth, just holding each other, for a very long minute.
For two weeks, that was all I had wanted-- to be back in C's arms. And finally, finally, there I was again. Bliss.
It was funny, though, because I was so tired, I felt like I was drunk. I could hardly walk straight, and I was seeing things. (Probably because I had worked hard all day before I even set off on my drive home, so I was already tuckered out.) C helped me into bed, and I crashed for somewhere around 12 hours.
This weekend has been Recovery Weekend, basically. I haven't done much of anything but hang out, sleep, and a little bit of eating. I did go grocery shopping and bra shopping, and we did go see a movie Fri afternoon. Other than that... it's been very blah. And that's fine. I know the coming weeks will be busy enough what with work and getting ready for school and all.
Oh, yes. C's surprise.
I was all geared up to get the surprise when I came home, but while we were on the phone on my drive home, he told me that it'll be 6 to 8 weeks, because of the "other people" involved in the surprise. (I know what that means, though I won't let on that I know. It means the ring's in the shop, but he didn't expect it to take that long!) And, while I was suspicious, now I'm certain. How, you ask? Easy-- because I gave him back the engagement ring that he had given me once upon a time when we got back together and knew we wanted to get married. I gave it back so that he could re-use it, but the problem is that it had fallen off of my keychain at one point and been run over by an Expedition, so it was warped. He took it, and it got put in his dream box for safekeeping. I would check on it periodically, to make sure it was still safely tucked away, and so did he, because every now and then I'd find it out of the box, lying on the desk where he'd left it. Now, however, the ring is gone. Completely gone. So I know he's getting it fixed, and probably getting some additional stuff put on it like he said he might do.
I have some processing of emotions to do with this whole "settling down" thing, but I think I'll put that in a separate entry, because it could potentially take up a lot of space.
For now, I'm just so happy to be back home with my beloved... and happy to be getting copious amounts of sleep!
Had company over the weekend (15 ppl!), got sick from overdoing it, went to work for S-- who doesn't have internet-- then I spent 26 hours on the road, followed by a few days recovering.
Working for S is always a challenge to my heart, and not just because it's where D used to live. (Actually, this time around, I found that I am quite satisfied with the fact that things didn't work out with D. Listening to some of the things S said about him, I realized that he was/is totally not ready for anything serious, and that's what I was wanting. No wonder he ran off and wouldn't talk to me! Which is a huge red flag for not being able to communicate through difficulties... Yeah. I'm glad that one didn't work out, in retrospect.)
You see, S is very lonely and unhappy. M is described by S as a workaholic and emotionally distant, though he seems like a nice enough guy to me. (Then again, I'm also not his wife...) So she performs in order to win/keep his esteem and affection and respect. That being said, anyone that she brings in to help her is automatically under the same pressure that she puts upon herself, because the how the hired help performs reflects on her performance, and she's got a lot more at stake than just gas money. Love is on the line for her, and so the pressure becomes stifling. It feels like I can't do anything right, like I'm this big clumsy oaf, and it's awful. Not that she says anything disparaging, because that's just not her style. It's more of a lack of affirmation and the constant flow of comments that let you know that her way is the way that will work-- always. Her way is the way, and it's the best way, and your way just really isn't good enough for any number of reasons. It's enough to shrink a person to lilliputian size, to just let that frail woman walk all over you because it's easier than trying to prove yourself night and day.
And maybe that's what she needs-- the knowledge that she's good, she's the best, she's worth something... because she feels that she has no worth outside of her immaculate housekeeping and prolific canning and gardening...?
What a sad life.
Somewhere on the last day, I put my finger on it-- I was succumbing to a "shame attack". The tapes in my head that replay that discordant refrain of "not good enough, never good enough" were kickstarting again, and I was really feeling low. (That always happens over there...) I was gearing up to outperform, to overdo, to win affection and approval by force, if necessary. Then I realized what was happening. I wasn't able to totally stifle and stymie those tapes, but it was better. I realized that I don't want to live that way anymore, I don't want to be that person. I needed to do my best, to be sure, but toward what end? Toward the end of simply knowing that I've done all I can do, and done it to the best of my ability, and that a streak on the window doesn't somehow lessen my value or lower my lovability. (Yeah, ridiculous, right? But that's the kind of pressure that broods in that home.)
I didn't realize until spending time teetering on the verge of that trap how very free I've become. And I relish it.
S and I parted on good terms, but I was sure glad to hightail it out of there. I managed to pack everything into my little Buick, and the car held up well for the return trip. About twelve hours in, it got a little sluggish, but I had to keep plugging along. I am not sure I've ever been so anxious to get home.
I got very sick on the way, and I am now convinced that I have a potent potato allergy. That, in conjunction with the altitude and the heat, made me very ill. I had to stop and rest for an hour, talking on the phone with Mom to calm me down, because I was experiencing asthma-like symptoms and I had nothing with me to help with asthma. That happened again in the wee hours of the morning, but I called C that time. (Common denominator? Baked lentil chips with potato starch and flour as the second and third ingredients. And a semi-asthmatic response as well as the gut pain. No, no anaphylaxis, please!!)
I do miss the NW, to be sure. I miss the S's. I miss K, but I'll have those beautiful business cards she came up with as a consolation prize.
The day before I left to S's house, C and I sat on the bench outside with prickly pear lemonade in fancy glasses, and just chatted. I want to send her a little thank you note for that, because it was really wonderful. I miss having that mother figure around, because I don't have that in these parts. I'm the adult, here. Mer.
Ahh, but the homecoming was grand. I was tired, but I made it. (Two 5-hour energy drinks is what it takes to get me to or from ID safely, I've found. They typically last me about 8 hours.)
I walked into C's room and he didn't know who had just come in, but when he saw me he leapt out of the chair, and we embraced. My arms around him, his arms around me, one hand on the back of my neck holding me to him... it felt like he was cradling me, and it was so nice. We swayed back and forth, just holding each other, for a very long minute.
For two weeks, that was all I had wanted-- to be back in C's arms. And finally, finally, there I was again. Bliss.
It was funny, though, because I was so tired, I felt like I was drunk. I could hardly walk straight, and I was seeing things. (Probably because I had worked hard all day before I even set off on my drive home, so I was already tuckered out.) C helped me into bed, and I crashed for somewhere around 12 hours.
This weekend has been Recovery Weekend, basically. I haven't done much of anything but hang out, sleep, and a little bit of eating. I did go grocery shopping and bra shopping, and we did go see a movie Fri afternoon. Other than that... it's been very blah. And that's fine. I know the coming weeks will be busy enough what with work and getting ready for school and all.
Oh, yes. C's surprise.
I was all geared up to get the surprise when I came home, but while we were on the phone on my drive home, he told me that it'll be 6 to 8 weeks, because of the "other people" involved in the surprise. (I know what that means, though I won't let on that I know. It means the ring's in the shop, but he didn't expect it to take that long!) And, while I was suspicious, now I'm certain. How, you ask? Easy-- because I gave him back the engagement ring that he had given me once upon a time when we got back together and knew we wanted to get married. I gave it back so that he could re-use it, but the problem is that it had fallen off of my keychain at one point and been run over by an Expedition, so it was warped. He took it, and it got put in his dream box for safekeeping. I would check on it periodically, to make sure it was still safely tucked away, and so did he, because every now and then I'd find it out of the box, lying on the desk where he'd left it. Now, however, the ring is gone. Completely gone. So I know he's getting it fixed, and probably getting some additional stuff put on it like he said he might do.
I have some processing of emotions to do with this whole "settling down" thing, but I think I'll put that in a separate entry, because it could potentially take up a lot of space.
For now, I'm just so happy to be back home with my beloved... and happy to be getting copious amounts of sleep!
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