A Saturday In October

Today was Mark’s birthday.  We celebrated it nicely, I like to think…

I haven’t wanted to do any writing or posting today and my last post was another accident (but I’ve left it up for the moment)…  I’ve been too busy reflecting and trying to help make Mark’s day pleasant for him.

I find the whole thing with Mr. Blue frustrating at this point (sorry if you’re sick of hearing about him).  I can’t tell if he’s an entitled jerk who thinks anything even possibly negative about him is some sort of profound insult that warrants a serious and cruel counter attack or what…  Maybe he’s not even angry at all.    Maybe…  ?  Maybe nothing has been really happening this whole time?  That seems unlikely, but…  I suppose it’s possible.  I don’t know.    At any rate, I haven’t meant to insult him.  I simply don’t want to be “special friends” with anyone in any way nor do I want to be the punchline of some egotistical weirdo’s joke (no matter how many people might be like him)…

I have been angry because it seems he may be intent on preemptively insulting me (hence my suspicion that he’s possibly just a jerk).   I’m not angry because he may never call me or take anything seriously.  It’s his prerogative to not be interested (or that interested).   It wouldn’t shock me.  It wouldn’t make me upset…   I don’t take romantic rejection personally.   You can’t.   People like what they like and want what they want.

You know it’s not a pleasant time to be an American woman in general though…  It’s mortifying actually.  I can’t believe we’ve even come close to electing a man like Donald Trump.  And what’s worse is that I still think he has a chance to win…   The debate tomorrow night scares me.  This election scares me.  I’m hoping that Hillary will win, or that if Trump wins he’ll just turn out to be lazy and incompetent.  But I fear much worse…  I’m beginning to understand what a precarious position America is really in right now, especially in regard to international matters.  Regardless of Hillary’s possible past missteps, I worry about what Trump would do…  I really do.

And, in light of the recent discussion in my country about abuse of women (given the Trump campaign) and what I’ve written on this blog, I’d also like to share a few more personal things.

First, I don’t hate my father.  He was an abusive man but I’ve forgiven him.  I forgave him a long time ago…

The thing is, when you have a parent with a mental illness that causes trauma, with an addiction, and/or (in my case) who is abusive, at some point (if you’re lucky, I think) you start to see them as just what they are. Nothing more and nothing less.  And that might mean not really having a real father (or a mother depending on the situation).  Or it might mean having moments of lucid parenting to garner from and then nothing else – the rest eventually becoming a bit like how one would view a person with Alzheimer’s.    You don’t hate them (at least I don’t).  They’re just gone

I mean certainly, what my father did was wrong, but I don’t “take him seriously” anymore (and haven’t for a very long time).   I can’t.  Anyone who would hurt another person to the degree that he did has gone beyond the limits of reasonable behavior in my opinion.  I take the threat of what he could do seriously, but I don’t expect him to be a real father in every sense, sadly…   I wish I could.  I try to be as kind as possible (meaning within limits)…  And I appreciate him when he’s being respectful.

Also, I had a man open the door for me today at a book store.  I’ve had men do this before, but this was very distinct.  He was going about it in a markedly intentional way.  It even made me wonder if there was some connection to what just surfaced in my country about Donald Trump.  When I said “thank you” he made a look that suggested to me that he was trying to make some point…  It was as if he had decided to be extra gentlemanly to all the women he met today.  It was very lovely.


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