8:54 a.m. - July 16, 2001
Madness continues...
Yes, the madness continues. I really thought that things couldn't (or wouldn't dare to) get any worse.
I got home from work on Friday and Walter was being very sweet to me. It was Rita's day to clean, so she was there, cleaning like a maniac. She greeted me at the door, sweaty and happy, with a warm & welcoming smile for me. Walter asked if I wanted to go to dinner and a movie. What a treat! Of course I want to get out of the house and have some fun.
So, we went to Brazil, for a little bite to eat. We chatted - the usual. How was your day, this was my day, yadda yadda yaddda. Except five minutes into the conversation we were into it again. Yes, how delightful, another argument. In public too, what better? In one of my favorite little places in the city, too, how delightful. What could we possibly find to argue about, in such a beautiful place, eating such delicious food? It all started when I brought up my friend, Clint's name. I was telling Walter how I had hurt Clint's feelings, or offended him, because he ran screaming from my cubicle. That was all that Walter needed. He started in on Clint, how he needs to get over it, yadda yadda. I was tyring to say that NO, it was me. It was all me. I was mean and pushing people away. But, all the friction between he & Clint took over and Walter was on the defensive. Then Walt told me how hurt he was that I was invited to go over to Philly & Sasha's, but without him - because Clint would be there. How unfair it was that Clint could call the shots - and what did he do that was so bad to Clint anyway? That frankly he was OVER IT. He didn't care and he had run out of patience with "the whole thing."
(I have tried really hard not to get in the middle of this thing between Clint & Walter, but it is impossible for me to ignore how it has affected me...and my relationship with my husband. Because, ALTOUGH I HAVE NOT TAKEN SIDES WITH CLINT, I happen to agree with his side of things. I agree that Walter has some issues that he needs to work on)...
Walter is defensive. 98.9% of the time, Walter is defensive. Suggestions that I attempt to make are taken as personal attacks on his very soul and his every fiber.
This is very difficult for me. I am melting down.
Background - I grew up NOT talking about my feelings. I grew up without someone encouraging me to work through things. I grew up in emotional denial. It was NOT okay to be mad or sad or lonely or confused. Things were not discussed and worked through. Things were ignored, denied, and swept under the rug. The way to make things better was to hide them deep inside and eventually they will just work themselves out, or will just go away.
Fester is more like it.
That was then. This is now. Fully present. Awake. I opened my mind and heart. I took a leap of faith and decided to deal with these feelings. I was 31 years old when I went to talk to someone for the very first time ever. I had no idea what I was going to say or what was going to happen. I had no expectations except that I was going to meet a kind & compassionate woman. Gina. Gina helped me wake up. Gina helped me open my eyes. Gina helped me to face the demons (and forgive them) and go on. She taught me so many things - but mostly, to love. Forgiveness and love are amazingly powerful gifts to give someone. Gina taught me to give people back their shit, their issues.
So, all of the NDT (New Decision Therapy) work, along with a few miraculous Soul Retrievals, and working my ass off in Yoga, has really helped me to get this poison out of my body. The work continues, but I feel like I have learned how to REALLY live. I am a much more compassionate, patient, and balanced person now. I have let go of my anger and my resentment. I have moved away from the past and am moving towards a bright, new future.
back to my story...
Clint & Walter still haven't made peace with one another. Not since Walter hurt Clint in public, in front of other friends. Sure, we were all joking with one another. But Walter crossed the line. When I was joking about, "Why is it that boys spit? I mean, girls don't feel the need to hawk a loogy, right?" And Clint answered, "I don't really spit." And Walter interjected, "But, you're not a real man , Clint." ...and there was silence. A deadly silence. Ok, Clint is gay. My husband can be a little phobic. Clint is, however, a real man. As real as any other man with a penis. I couldn't believe that Walter had just said that! Oh, jesus what now? After dinner, we all disbanded and Clint decided that he wanted nothing further to do with Walter. Walter let him stew and then gave him a call the next day, only after I told him that he really should apologize. But, his apology seemed hollow, and "surface." I heard it. He kept interrupting Clint, and talking over him. He kept saying to Clint, "Man, I would do anything. I would run into a burning building for you, man." But he was too busy talking to listen to the one thing that Clint wanted from him. Clint wanted for Walter to REALLY really hear him. To really hear how bad that it had hurt his feelings. Walter's apology seemed hollow and insincere. Clint was even more discouraged after Walters "apology" and told him that he could continue his friendship with me and didn't frankly need him in the picture.
Oh, sorrow.
So, Walter doesn't understand. I try to explain to him that what he did really hurt Clint, down in his soul. That he should just try to be patient with Clint and continue to appeal to him. I was sure that he and Clint would eventually work things out. But, when I try to get Walt to see things from someone else's point of view, he attacks. The walls go up, he gets defensive, we fight, and we continue to move further and further away from each other.
So...I tried to tell Walter where it is that Clint is coming from. Where he is with this whole thing. Walter said he didn't want to hear, that he really didn't care, that he had lost patience with this whole thing. But, I said it anyway because he has be needing to hear it. Walter, Clint doens't want to be around you until you make a comitment to do some work on some issues. Until you make a commitment to attempting to make some emotional progress. Great. Great. Interrrupt me. Yes please, wrinkle your forehead and take on that defensive stance. No, please don't listen. Walk away. Walk furhter and further away from me and our relationship. Put up that wall. In his DEFENSE, Walter said that it was none of Clint's fucking business. That Clint needs to stop thinking about what Walter needs to do - that he needs to be concerned about himself and his own shit. And you know what!? It is true. I try to interject that. It's hard for him to hear over the firecrackers going off in his head - I can see this, because his face is very red now and veins are bulging out of the side of his neck. And I see my father in his face again. I see the temper, the defence. I see the loss of control. I try to tell him that YOU KNOW WHAT, it is YOUR shit. It is YOUR business. No one else can take care of YOUR SHIT, except you. And no one can take care of MY shit except ME. But YOU KNOW WHAT, your shit affects me. Just like my shit affects you. We are parters. We are in this together. When you realize that you have issues, and you say to me that YES you realize that you need to work on your anger, and you agree that you have lost your temper with me AND that yopu agree that you should deal with this...then WHY do you insist on WAITING!??? Why do you keep refusing to do the work?
I really feel that the reason Walt won't go back to do more NDT work, or Yoga for that matter, is simply because I want him to do do. Walter puts up the wall and becomes quite stubborn. Actually, downright argumentative.
How else can I say these words? Yes, it is your shit, but it affects me. By you not letting go of the past, you will continue to repeat those patterns. Those patterns of anger and distrust. The pattern that forces you to be defensive and to fight, fight, fight. I will continue to say these words. I do not want to fight. I do not want you to feel like you need to be defensive. I am not your enemy. I am not coming to rape your village. I am only sharing with you these things so that WE can grow together, so that we can work on things TOGETHER. I want to work through all of this. I want to work things out.
But, Walter was at the point of no return. Anger and defensiveness had filled his heart and taken over. There was nothing that I could do. I felt helpless, trapped in a cage, unable to speak. I felt myself sinking into the shell again. The same shell that I have escaped into all of these years. The shell that protects me from having to confront what it is that I am feeling. Inside my shell, I can be very quiet. Nothing can really touch me. I can sit in this silence for a long, long time. We are now in the car, and I am staring up into the hauntingly beautiful sky. It is a gorgeous night sky - not quite dark yet. The clouds are thick and willowy, and reminds me of the way that the desert sand looks when the winds have gently kissed it. It is amazing. I feel tears inside the back of my eyes, threatening to well up. But, the tears don't come. Because, at this moment, I realize that Walter is not driving us in the direction of home. He thinks that it would be fun to go shoot some pool. Although I don't really enjoy billiards (and I've said this on a few occassions) Walter insists that I do like pool, and that I will have fun. I assure him that I am not a big fan, but that it can be fun...but MORE IMPORTANTLY that I do not want to be in public right now. I remind him that we just had a heated argument IN PUBLIC (not some 10 minutes earlier). Although, the argument didn't really stop - I just stopped talking. I gave up. There was no point or reason to speak any longer because I was talking to a wall. A very thick, tall, solid wall. But, I didn't speak these things to him. I just told him that we needed to talk, to work through this, and in public was no where AT ALL to be. I guess he agreed - or just gave in to me - because he turned the car around and headed home. Side note - Rita doesn't drive. She takes the bus to our home. Also, Friday is the Sabbat for her and she MUST be home BEFORE dark. This is her own commitment to herself. When we pulled into the driveway, it was dark. Walter opened up the front door and I could see Rita's stuff. She was still there! It was well after 9 PM and she was still there. All I could think of was, COULD THIS GET ANY WORSE!? I certainly didn't want to continue to argue in front of her, yet I didn't want to try to put on a happy face and fake it for her (besides, she is sensitive to me and I would never be able to pull it off). I wanted my house to myself and I didn't want to communicate with her at all. Nothing about or against her, I just needed her to give me my space back. I walked directly to the bedroom and shut the door behind me. I didn't even turn the lights on. I buried my head in my hands and waited for her to leave. I heard Walter - in a very stern voice - talling her, "Rita, you've broken the Sabbath. Get your stuff together right now. I'm driving you home. No discussion. Right now." I heard him tell her that I had a migraine and that I was laying down. She left. We did not resume our "discussion" and I fell into an ugly loneliness. Sadness. Hopelessness. Wait! It gets better. My Mother-in-law was on her way to town - and would be staying with us. And, we would be going to dinner saturday night - along with Walter's grandmother. Needless to say, I needed to get my head screwed on straight. In a BIG way. So I woke up at 7AM on Saturday and went to Yoga. Walter was gone by 6AM - off to work. I worked my ass off in Yoga class, sweating like a ferocious pig. It felt delicious. I went to lunch with a friend and that totally made my day. I vented and she listened. I could see the sympathy and sadness in her eyes, for me. She gave me incredible hugs that were on the verge of WW Smackdown, and physically picked me up off of the ground. Tee hee I felt like a petite little princess and I needed to feel good. I ran home to welcome my Mother-in-law to town and got ready for dinner. We had a nice meal and good conversation. Niki is a sweet lady and cannot help the fect that she has chemical imbalances. She's manic and has A.D.D. (Attention Deficit Disorder) so it is sometimes hard to talk WITH her. She tends to talk over everyone, constantly jumping all over the place and has a hard time listening to things that others have to say. I can see why Walter has some communication issues, rightfully so. And, I'm not being mean when I say that either. It is very challenging to stay focused to listening to someone that is practically screaming at you. And, when they keep jumping all over the place in the conversation, it is even more of a challenge. Quite honestly, it was grating on my nerves. The more that she would talk, the more that Walter would interrupt and the longer and more confusing her stories got. It was exhausting. Sunday morning, I was the last person to wake up in the house. 10AM. When I walked into the den, the manic conversations started up again. I sat and politely listened while she brought me up to speed on all of the family news. She then went to throw on some clothes so we could all go to brunch. I took this opportunity alone with Walter to ask him a favor, "Walter, would you please try to be more conscientious and not interrupt your mother when she's speaking?" You would've thought that I had just told him that his mother was the anti-christ becase he flew off an yet another angry tangent. He wrinkled up his forehead, the veins in his neck popped out, he turned all red and - with his finger out in front of him like a preacher - got in my face and told me, in no uncertain terms, "I am not your child and I am not your servant. You will not talk to me like that and you will not shoosh me in public ever again. Do you understand me?" You know what, I did shoosh him in front of his mother. She didn't even hear me because she kept right on talking at the top of her lungs about this and that and the other. So, we are having this knock-down-drag-out no less than one room away from his mother. And, we're getting ready to AGAIN bring this to the public. Yes, let's please have a juicy little fight right before breakfast, on a beautiful Sunday morning, in front of your mother and SOON to be at the restaurant. I couldn't hide my feelings. I felt like someone had beat me. Had beat me repeatedly and left me to rot. I was down. Lower than I had been in A VERY LONG TIME. And I felt hopeless. And helpless. And like crawling under a rock. So, we went to breakfast.
