so scattered
I just can't focus because everything I want to worry about is something that isn't ready to go yet and is planned as far as I can! I keep going over in my head the pointless things I want to say to him. As though somehow I'd find the entreaty that brings him out of his ego shell. But I have. I've had that conversation biannually for ten years. We do this every few months!!! He always shows contrition mixed with denial and self aggrievement, and never does anything about it. I absolutely don't have a choice about leaving him. It's so heart breaking and scary and hard and it'll be so much harder this way.
I'm so disappointed with him. So very sad and disappointed and I can't focus on anything else but my feelings here. I can't do anything either. I could do menial chores with my adrenalin but what's happening instead is I'm undoing the healing I'm working so hard to accomplish!!! That makes me too sick to do anything too. And I"m too tense to fathom dealing with selling items on kijji too. Well, to be fair, it's too late to catch christmas shoppers and everyone's spent till February. So I can give myself a fair pass till then but I really do have to start posting the fish and considering other items for sale. It'll get my bus and trailer a lot faster if I do.
I wonder how much space I'll actually have in there? Can I pile my 3 fave bikes and trailers and a kayak in there? A kayak could fit under a bed bench... A rack on the roof would be so fine.
I'm already decided to put my ladders in there as structureal members. Three ladders together , it's a bed, a bench, a counter. I've got a lot of ladders. If I keep them, and utilize my drop cloths and such, I can still have painting tools and what I am, is a painter. Above all else, I am a painter. I'll be painting my bus at some point and I can even do labour trades to help others out and keep myself going. I won't need pecuniary equivalency with the real world, just food and diesel and gifts.
Yes, this is a blog that can make me feel better. I'll talk about my vision of myself in the bus!
I know I won't need to eat much. I'm living on scraps right now just to keep my digestion flowing. I'm obstructed, you see. I know for a fact there's at least one obstruction at the end and that's enough said about that. But it means I need to stop the swelling and injury, but that I still am vulnerable to inflammation and constipation and unless I see a surgeon and get some slicing done, it's not going away. But in spite of that, and the weight loss, I am confident I can subsist on pretty small amounts of food for the most part. Cheaply, that is.
So I was turned onto this thing called a "free tea party bus." I loved it. He started serving tea simply to give. It was something he enjoyed in the first place and could afford in the second place. Tea is cheap! I could do the same but I don't want to just copy him and I"m not sure my character would hold up to that much interaction and work. I needed to think of something unique to me. I did.
I love to teach, I really do, and have teaching classes from University to give me the basic principles of how. I love art. Not Art, that thing art galleries and skinny people in metropolises do. Not that Art. No. That is a pretentious business for profit. No, I love the art that happens in the normal houses. The little toile decorations, the sewn felt, the cherished sweaters and blankets, the simple juxtaposition of decorator colours when painting the house, and that personal choice in what to place just right there. When women knit, or when men pot, or when children pass their hands over a warp and dream of permission to weave, that is the art I love most. it's quirky, almost always representative, not textural, and frankly honest.
So I love art, I love teaching, and I"ve spent my life dancing across the media universe. I can weave, sew, knit, tat (lace), paint in a crazy variety of media (never worked with oil paints though). I can sculpt, carve, embroider, cook (that's an art too) and sketch. I've taken enough drawing lessons alone to keep one giving for days! I simply offer free art classes.
Yes, that's my plan. Drive across the country or just around BC or whatever happens, teaching people the basics of their choice of art form! You always wanted to learn to sculpt but never had the money/portfolio/courage to take a class? Here I am, I can help you fine tune your current efforts or do your very first try since childhood. I can teach you the basics of structure, composition, lighting, colour. So much more, and all applies across the board, whether you're sculpting and need armature and shape, or painting and need balance and harmony.
I can teach how to see negative space. How to understand how colours work together or against each other. I can teach how to recognize a colour palette or break the colour rules. I can teach the composition of a portrait or figure, the muscle and bone structures and how they are the same from critter to critter, etc. If I can get a nice painting ON the bus, I may even be able to hire out for murals! Yes. I love to paint, I am old enough and weird enough and experienced enough I should be able to just go out there and get good work, not "whitewash it" jobs. and I will really enjoy teaching people. I miss the way it felt when I taught ESL. I was disappointed when I realized it wasn't going to be a career for me. I love to teach, and I love to create and I love to meet people. I miss being sociable. I think I'll be less frightening as a fly-by-night too, and I won't be asking for something. I'll just be giving and accepting what comes my way as a side effect of that giving. I'm sure if it's not offers of food, fuel, clothing, appliances, repair work, whatever, it'll be offers of honest work for a wage and that's perfectly cool too. I can just up and clean your house or cook your special dinner too. I'm so damn skilled, but I can't crack the local community here for anything. Well, that's very strongly because I'm in such a stressful marriage. The last ten years my world has closed in on me like never before, in spite of my efforts to fight it. I've just not had the open mind and relaxedness I need to have the energy to try! I am autistic, it is hard. But I used to do it. I can do it again. But not as a married woman who's husband is too "what?" to be with her. It's so embarassing to me the way he does his vanishing act if I talk to others. They feel it immediately too. Either they spotted him running away like they're lepers, or they think I'm alone. But I'm not. But I am. It's ridiculous. Whether a store, trade show, cafe, or even an acquaintance I already know, he does a fade-out as best he can. he refuses to see how that looks from outside his own head. He just refuses to look outside himself, no matter how I talk, what I say, or how contrite he pretends to be for awhile. Sometimes I think I've actually touched him, then he formulates a bunch of BS excuses for himself and we're back to square one. I've tried highlighting any little changes, tried focussing on progress, tried encouragement, but frankly it's just too heavy for me. I'm sick and it's because of all this trying. I'm not supposed to spend my marriage trying to help someone else and absorbing all their negativity, playing off me to enable themselves. That's not a marriage. I don't know what I'd call it, but it's just wrong and has to stop this summer. This spring. ASAP. This winter if the opportunity arrives! But I know it won't, I will try and find the focus and energy to get selling things I won't be keeping that he won't keep. Leave him with as little mess as I can and let him sort the rest out. I kind of wish I could peek in and watch the disaster unfold, but I also know I'd feel awful about it. I'd be peeking in hoping I was wrong about him. Just like I have for ten awful years.
he still won't accept that I feel he betrayed me into marriage. But I do. He didn't represent himself honestly. He wasn't this angry ranting jackass before marriage but he switched into it by the end of our wedding night. He didn't tell me he was actively drinking until I pressed him on . He never said he had on an ankle bracelet till two years into our marriage, even though there was a period of weeks, six I think, when he had lots of time for me and we were on video chat for hours at a time.
He used to fall asleep on camera and instead of visiting I just left the video window in a small corner of the screen and waited for his hunched back to show movement. The first time I actually phoned his house and woke his mother up to check on him, I was so alarmed!
Always, it's been my hope that I"m wrong about him that he's used to trap me. That and the money which has run out in it's own special way.
I really thought I had him this time. He seemed to understand how sick I was. How I felt. He seemed to care. But not enough to make any changes in his way of coping with life. I thought I had him hooked on the bus life, enough to make changes to himself to reach out and share it.
I can't take THAT with me, not even in his own bus, which would take another two years to save for anyway. How in hell would that work? Everything becomes a point of rage. Everyone can hear his swearing, his thumping and tossing. I hear it from downstairs and I wonder with dread how the pets are coping.
Timmy shakes sometimes when he looks at Dan now. Sam has a permanent shriek of fear. I have a constant hunch to my shoulders like I'm avoiding blows all day. And the other night.
I was picking at him because he'd started out again cutting me off to rant and rave about authority and how it has no rights because the constitution! I told him that he had to overcome his fears. That I could see that almost everything driving this madness was fear based. He turned on his most threatening face and voice and blasted me inches from my face with rage and threat.
So when does he ball a fist and shake it in my face? Why not? There's always an excuse why it's a reasonable response to X Y or Z.
What if he's getting dementia? I don't think he is, the symptoms don't add up, but suppose something like that does creep in? How long till he's just picking on me mentally, emotionally, and physically? That's what he'd do. He already withdraws his kindness, his charity, his smiles, and his laughter from me. He's a small small man, frankly. How did I get here? I think because I was so fixated on building up a security. and I had a lot of pets I didn't know what to do with. And I was scared of a lot. And there was no internet to guide me. That's the biggest one. i was truely alone and he kept sending me money, unsolicited, even when I objected. He'd find something I couldn't refuse and just kept doing that, stepping up the gifts. Playing on my sense of right and fair and my guilt and weakness. How in the actual fuck can someone so devious actually fail to see his own faults? Is that because he's only got enough computing power for the one? Yes, and only the habit of the former as well. It's just so damn sad overall. He could be happy if he'd release.
But really, it's ultimately not my responsibility, even if it's been my job to try. He's still the guy in charge of that head and I still am solely responsible for my own. Mine wants out now.
If I had friends I could get one to take me out or amuse me or distract me or even help me get things done.
I was going to go get a mammogram, fearful of inconsistencies of texture. But if I do have cancer, I just want to die of it. I don't want to let it stop me from running away from Dan. Being in the hospital, going through chemo, becoming yet more disabled by treatments that may or may not work, all this leads to staying in this marriage for years more, perhaps forever.
I'd really rather die. Honestly. I want out if I have to die to get out. So fuck mammograms, hernias and dying. Fuck cancer and doctors and tests. Fuck that shit. If it kills me, that's another way to solve everything. Even if the idea makes me weep.
I know my medicine. From the state-of-the-art progress in the fancy places, to the last century tried-and-true failures available here. I know what they do, what they could do, what they don't do, what they should do, where and when and how long it takes, and what I'd go through to get there. I also know cancer isn't really any more painful than I'm currently suffering until you start getting treated for it. I also know if I already have lumps that big, or a cancer in my bowel, it's too late for most treatments. Especially if I have both, which suggests that it's metastasized and popping up everywhere. At that stage, only the sort of holistic approach I'm already attempting will give any hope and most people die in half a year. Yeah, seriously, by summer I'll be gone. Whether it's because I found the trailer and bus I need to buy or died this winter. I want to die in winter, because I agree with that song "if you must die, die in winter."
I'm so disappointed with him. So very sad and disappointed and I can't focus on anything else but my feelings here. I can't do anything either. I could do menial chores with my adrenalin but what's happening instead is I'm undoing the healing I'm working so hard to accomplish!!! That makes me too sick to do anything too. And I"m too tense to fathom dealing with selling items on kijji too. Well, to be fair, it's too late to catch christmas shoppers and everyone's spent till February. So I can give myself a fair pass till then but I really do have to start posting the fish and considering other items for sale. It'll get my bus and trailer a lot faster if I do.
I wonder how much space I'll actually have in there? Can I pile my 3 fave bikes and trailers and a kayak in there? A kayak could fit under a bed bench... A rack on the roof would be so fine.
I'm already decided to put my ladders in there as structureal members. Three ladders together , it's a bed, a bench, a counter. I've got a lot of ladders. If I keep them, and utilize my drop cloths and such, I can still have painting tools and what I am, is a painter. Above all else, I am a painter. I'll be painting my bus at some point and I can even do labour trades to help others out and keep myself going. I won't need pecuniary equivalency with the real world, just food and diesel and gifts.
Yes, this is a blog that can make me feel better. I'll talk about my vision of myself in the bus!
I know I won't need to eat much. I'm living on scraps right now just to keep my digestion flowing. I'm obstructed, you see. I know for a fact there's at least one obstruction at the end and that's enough said about that. But it means I need to stop the swelling and injury, but that I still am vulnerable to inflammation and constipation and unless I see a surgeon and get some slicing done, it's not going away. But in spite of that, and the weight loss, I am confident I can subsist on pretty small amounts of food for the most part. Cheaply, that is.
So I was turned onto this thing called a "free tea party bus." I loved it. He started serving tea simply to give. It was something he enjoyed in the first place and could afford in the second place. Tea is cheap! I could do the same but I don't want to just copy him and I"m not sure my character would hold up to that much interaction and work. I needed to think of something unique to me. I did.
I love to teach, I really do, and have teaching classes from University to give me the basic principles of how. I love art. Not Art, that thing art galleries and skinny people in metropolises do. Not that Art. No. That is a pretentious business for profit. No, I love the art that happens in the normal houses. The little toile decorations, the sewn felt, the cherished sweaters and blankets, the simple juxtaposition of decorator colours when painting the house, and that personal choice in what to place just right there. When women knit, or when men pot, or when children pass their hands over a warp and dream of permission to weave, that is the art I love most. it's quirky, almost always representative, not textural, and frankly honest.
So I love art, I love teaching, and I"ve spent my life dancing across the media universe. I can weave, sew, knit, tat (lace), paint in a crazy variety of media (never worked with oil paints though). I can sculpt, carve, embroider, cook (that's an art too) and sketch. I've taken enough drawing lessons alone to keep one giving for days! I simply offer free art classes.
Yes, that's my plan. Drive across the country or just around BC or whatever happens, teaching people the basics of their choice of art form! You always wanted to learn to sculpt but never had the money/portfolio/courage to take a class? Here I am, I can help you fine tune your current efforts or do your very first try since childhood. I can teach you the basics of structure, composition, lighting, colour. So much more, and all applies across the board, whether you're sculpting and need armature and shape, or painting and need balance and harmony.
I can teach how to see negative space. How to understand how colours work together or against each other. I can teach how to recognize a colour palette or break the colour rules. I can teach the composition of a portrait or figure, the muscle and bone structures and how they are the same from critter to critter, etc. If I can get a nice painting ON the bus, I may even be able to hire out for murals! Yes. I love to paint, I am old enough and weird enough and experienced enough I should be able to just go out there and get good work, not "whitewash it" jobs. and I will really enjoy teaching people. I miss the way it felt when I taught ESL. I was disappointed when I realized it wasn't going to be a career for me. I love to teach, and I love to create and I love to meet people. I miss being sociable. I think I'll be less frightening as a fly-by-night too, and I won't be asking for something. I'll just be giving and accepting what comes my way as a side effect of that giving. I'm sure if it's not offers of food, fuel, clothing, appliances, repair work, whatever, it'll be offers of honest work for a wage and that's perfectly cool too. I can just up and clean your house or cook your special dinner too. I'm so damn skilled, but I can't crack the local community here for anything. Well, that's very strongly because I'm in such a stressful marriage. The last ten years my world has closed in on me like never before, in spite of my efforts to fight it. I've just not had the open mind and relaxedness I need to have the energy to try! I am autistic, it is hard. But I used to do it. I can do it again. But not as a married woman who's husband is too "what?" to be with her. It's so embarassing to me the way he does his vanishing act if I talk to others. They feel it immediately too. Either they spotted him running away like they're lepers, or they think I'm alone. But I'm not. But I am. It's ridiculous. Whether a store, trade show, cafe, or even an acquaintance I already know, he does a fade-out as best he can. he refuses to see how that looks from outside his own head. He just refuses to look outside himself, no matter how I talk, what I say, or how contrite he pretends to be for awhile. Sometimes I think I've actually touched him, then he formulates a bunch of BS excuses for himself and we're back to square one. I've tried highlighting any little changes, tried focussing on progress, tried encouragement, but frankly it's just too heavy for me. I'm sick and it's because of all this trying. I'm not supposed to spend my marriage trying to help someone else and absorbing all their negativity, playing off me to enable themselves. That's not a marriage. I don't know what I'd call it, but it's just wrong and has to stop this summer. This spring. ASAP. This winter if the opportunity arrives! But I know it won't, I will try and find the focus and energy to get selling things I won't be keeping that he won't keep. Leave him with as little mess as I can and let him sort the rest out. I kind of wish I could peek in and watch the disaster unfold, but I also know I'd feel awful about it. I'd be peeking in hoping I was wrong about him. Just like I have for ten awful years.
he still won't accept that I feel he betrayed me into marriage. But I do. He didn't represent himself honestly. He wasn't this angry ranting jackass before marriage but he switched into it by the end of our wedding night. He didn't tell me he was actively drinking until I pressed him on . He never said he had on an ankle bracelet till two years into our marriage, even though there was a period of weeks, six I think, when he had lots of time for me and we were on video chat for hours at a time.
He used to fall asleep on camera and instead of visiting I just left the video window in a small corner of the screen and waited for his hunched back to show movement. The first time I actually phoned his house and woke his mother up to check on him, I was so alarmed!
Always, it's been my hope that I"m wrong about him that he's used to trap me. That and the money which has run out in it's own special way.
I really thought I had him this time. He seemed to understand how sick I was. How I felt. He seemed to care. But not enough to make any changes in his way of coping with life. I thought I had him hooked on the bus life, enough to make changes to himself to reach out and share it.
I can't take THAT with me, not even in his own bus, which would take another two years to save for anyway. How in hell would that work? Everything becomes a point of rage. Everyone can hear his swearing, his thumping and tossing. I hear it from downstairs and I wonder with dread how the pets are coping.
Timmy shakes sometimes when he looks at Dan now. Sam has a permanent shriek of fear. I have a constant hunch to my shoulders like I'm avoiding blows all day. And the other night.
I was picking at him because he'd started out again cutting me off to rant and rave about authority and how it has no rights because the constitution! I told him that he had to overcome his fears. That I could see that almost everything driving this madness was fear based. He turned on his most threatening face and voice and blasted me inches from my face with rage and threat.
So when does he ball a fist and shake it in my face? Why not? There's always an excuse why it's a reasonable response to X Y or Z.
What if he's getting dementia? I don't think he is, the symptoms don't add up, but suppose something like that does creep in? How long till he's just picking on me mentally, emotionally, and physically? That's what he'd do. He already withdraws his kindness, his charity, his smiles, and his laughter from me. He's a small small man, frankly. How did I get here? I think because I was so fixated on building up a security. and I had a lot of pets I didn't know what to do with. And I was scared of a lot. And there was no internet to guide me. That's the biggest one. i was truely alone and he kept sending me money, unsolicited, even when I objected. He'd find something I couldn't refuse and just kept doing that, stepping up the gifts. Playing on my sense of right and fair and my guilt and weakness. How in the actual fuck can someone so devious actually fail to see his own faults? Is that because he's only got enough computing power for the one? Yes, and only the habit of the former as well. It's just so damn sad overall. He could be happy if he'd release.
But really, it's ultimately not my responsibility, even if it's been my job to try. He's still the guy in charge of that head and I still am solely responsible for my own. Mine wants out now.
If I had friends I could get one to take me out or amuse me or distract me or even help me get things done.
I was going to go get a mammogram, fearful of inconsistencies of texture. But if I do have cancer, I just want to die of it. I don't want to let it stop me from running away from Dan. Being in the hospital, going through chemo, becoming yet more disabled by treatments that may or may not work, all this leads to staying in this marriage for years more, perhaps forever.
I'd really rather die. Honestly. I want out if I have to die to get out. So fuck mammograms, hernias and dying. Fuck cancer and doctors and tests. Fuck that shit. If it kills me, that's another way to solve everything. Even if the idea makes me weep.
I know my medicine. From the state-of-the-art progress in the fancy places, to the last century tried-and-true failures available here. I know what they do, what they could do, what they don't do, what they should do, where and when and how long it takes, and what I'd go through to get there. I also know cancer isn't really any more painful than I'm currently suffering until you start getting treated for it. I also know if I already have lumps that big, or a cancer in my bowel, it's too late for most treatments. Especially if I have both, which suggests that it's metastasized and popping up everywhere. At that stage, only the sort of holistic approach I'm already attempting will give any hope and most people die in half a year. Yeah, seriously, by summer I'll be gone. Whether it's because I found the trailer and bus I need to buy or died this winter. I want to die in winter, because I agree with that song "if you must die, die in winter."