She hasn’t come by again. When I made her leave I was really mad and very serious about her leaving. I got her car working, pulled it down the street and said I don’t care if your car gets towed or what happens, you have to get off my property now. She tried calling me today from a mechanic but I missed the call. The last time I asked Sean to leave, I knew I was saying goodbye forever. I warned him, if he didn’t choose real help he was going to die. I knew if I kept giving him logistical support he would still crash. When I realized six months later that he did die, I didn’t know what to think. I think I was the only person that knew he had already tried to commit suicide. When he told me everything including him was so crazy that I didn’t know what to think except that the strength to survive had to come from within him. A subtle strength based on love from the bottom of his heart. I tried to show him my form of that love by listening and empathizing. I don’t know if I could imagine a woman going through the same pain and sorrow. It is agonizing to see. I think that is why he was shot. It’s just so agonizing! You just want it to stop. But he trusted me for some reason. He knew I had made choices to get real. And he respected that. She actually told me she knows she’s going to die from it. I don’t want that to happen but I don’t think I can fight it! I found her car two days ago and left her soup in a jar, a note, a flashlight, and her Wellbutrin. Sean was also taking Wellbutrin. She has it for depression. I told her don’t worry about depression, just stay at my place and sleep all day for a few weeks, no one is judging you. Sometimes your body just needs that! It was almost like he came to me because he knew he was going to die! And I knew the right things to say to make sure his soul was right before hand. Maybe I’m dying too! I don’t know. Maybe we’re ALL dying!
No matter was she is, a giant witch, schizophrenic, a meth addict. Whatever. I’m still an anger addict. And labeling her doesn’t change that. It oh man. I’m trying to remodel my house and she kept pulling me down! All I had to do was love and have faith. I think that’s what Jesus meant by a mustard seed. Instead I was accusatory, mean, and crazy! I Know that things take time. And maybe it would take her three years to get better. And that’s why what happens today is important.
Today went well and as planned. I got up at 6, went and found her car, hijacked it’s vacuumed it out and detailed the interior a little, fixed the electrical problem fairly permanently, as much as I could in five minutes, got the windows working again, rolled it up and locked it. And left a cd in the changer because the radio antenna fell off and she couldn’t tune in to anything.
So, I hope this helps her feel better in her life! I know it must. I checked later and car was there but she had been in it. I left her note saying it does run now. A few hours later and it was gone! Oh and a full tank of gas! I hope she’s ok. I kind of over reacted. She was telling someone on the phone that she thinks I might be holding her hostage. I made her leave that instant. I almost threw her out. I had just poured hours into getting her car and I risked a lot. Looking back, she’s schizophrenic. Nothing she says makes any sense. The guy probably knew she was babbling nonsense. But I have trouble understanding people with mental problems. I believe what they say even when you shouldn’t. So, I could have just gently reminded her, I’m working on your car for you, it will be done tomorrow. But just getting the key from her took 15 minutes until I finally yelled just give me the key so I can fix your car. So I had already lost my patience. She has brought the worst out in me. I mean, I did actually want to throw her out. Physically. And I keep telling her, I don’t care. She kept telling me all of these issues she needed help with. I would break down and admit, I don’t care! It’s kind of funny. I didn’t care! Maybe that was a fault. And I held her to rigid rules and standards rather than trying to connect with her as a person. And then the big ultimatums came out. And I made her leave quite a few times. It must be hard for her.
Then I started wiring my house for a new main breaker box and fixed some framing mistakes, also redid the attic, again. That’s my favorite thing to do. Redo the attic. Ohhh and put carpet in the crawl space!!! It’s a man cave. For real though. Now going down below or up top is like first class! It’s great! Took all the scraps to the dump. And old wood I never did anything with. Ohhh that felt good. Ohh it’s really getting somewhere now. Getting a quote for the engineering for a second story as well. Just in case. Fixed my saw. Got cookies. Made some decisions. Got s teddy bear. The dollar store has some good stuff. Some decent juice. Crackers. Organizers. They have good organizer things there. Paper pads. Batteries. Painting tools. Not bad. So happy to have my old gas pipes out and a fresh floor in the attic.
a few days ago in the car she wa sbegging me not go a certain way, because she wa afraid of the monster, but I kept going and she really broke down like a little girl, and sobbed and told me, I have to think of her as a little girl. She is aware of herself and what she needs, even though she doesn’t understand exactly what is going on with her.
I wish I could have respected that.
I don’t know what it is. If it’s meth or heroine or if it’s schizophrenia. Or meth induced schizophrenia. Or something else. But I’ve seen people with it. For one their head seems just slightly disproportionately large. Like a kid. And they are in this child like mentality that is in this daze of survival. They can barely think a minute ahead, constantly waiting to be attacked, but their outward appearance and body language reveals their true inner self. Gentle. Afraid. Lost. She wore this pink beanie that was just so odd. It was like a dunce cap. She had been kicked out so many times from so many places. Held down. Hospitalized. And she didn’t know why. To her everyone wantetd to attack her. Because she was constantly attackig and threatening and didn’t know it. So she was sadly and almost hopelessly trying to pull her car out of my yard, a car she had torn all the sensors out of, rewired everything, cut all sorts of random things off, while talking to herself wearing a pink dunce cap. And I was so mad, that’s why I kicked her out that day, but at the same time, I started see reality. She was just kind of cute. And confused. She thought I was attacking her after she lunged at me three times and said I was stealing her information. Her behavior as so obnoxious I just wanted to subdue her and make her stop. But I decided to look through all of that. The big picture is she’s a lost little girl. And that’s how it’s been for her forever. And I know that feeling. It’s like looking a little bit at me as a kid. So amidst all the unacceptable behavior, treating me like a door mat boyfriend figure, yelling, flipping out, I had to empathize. My only concern was hay this didn’t develop into a permanent pattern. I had to be very conscious of what I was willing to deal with for how long. And after that present her with ultimatums. Change or leave. But give her a reason to stay. That I understands. I accept. But I need the house taken care of, and she needs to be responsible for her part in that. What about finances? What would she have to be responsible for? It didn’t seem fair if there were women like Stacey out there working hard and supporting themselves, to just give her a free ride. Definitely not forever. Maybe for a probation period. But actually, what does it matter? If she could be out working, wouldn’t she? And since I was, didn’t that mean I ought to help her? That’s what I thought. There was something about that dunce cap. To me it said, I can’t help myself. Please help me. And I couldn’t push that away! I was looking at me years ago!
Today went ok. I ripped into her about quite a few things. But I learned how to do it in more loving way. I had to stand my ground. If I didn’t she had these tricky defenses. Everything is a test to her. She’s constantly testing everything. How far can I go. What will he put up with. How hard will he fight for me. I had to wonder if the whole thing was just a giant call to be saved to see who would fight for her. I could understand it. I had put myself in situations to be saved many times.
I felt really good this morning and felt like she was doing good so I gave her a big hug. Then like my sister I tackled her and squeezed her and tickled her. She liked it.
If I ever marry a clean, diligent woman, this will have been totally unfair. Because I forfeited a lot of rules in the hope it would help her get back on her feet. And how many other men had also tried? But from the perspective that she is still an abandoned little girl, then I think our relationship is acceptable. If she was a four year old I found on the highway and adopted, it would be ok.
Today, it was too much. I told her car last night. Fixed it today. Cleaned it. Then she made an allegation to someone while us no my phone. Goodbye! Her car died down the road. I left her with bananas and peanut butter! And fixed the car again. She doesn’t know what’s going on. I could have been more patient.
It’s just like Sean. 3erything he did and said was so absurd. And at night, I’d get this really really weird feeling. I can’t describe it except and intense anxiety that felt like him. With Amber it was the same but more intense. With Sean it was so weird I made him leave. With amber I decided to be patient and deal with it. I don’t know what it is. But both if them said everyone else would kick them out because of some weird feeling too. Ohhh but under it they are just sweet sensitive people. Why can’t they just trust? Why couldn’t I trust them? They would get into these whacked out modes where it’s like they weren’t there. And it’s so scary. But if I trusted, it would have been ok. All I had to do was lead with curiosity, understanding, and care. That’s all I had to do!
I came home with an oil cap for her car to replace the Gatorade bottle cap, plans to put fresh oil in, and light bulbs for her light. And somehow within that hour she had become obsessed with getting 70 dollars for car insurance and that I was trying to steal her information. I said no to the money. Then another accusation of putting my hands on her came. So I unleashed. You’re a meth addict headed down the wrong road. If you don’t ch age oaths you will die on the street, and I don’t want to see that happen. You are accusing me of touching you because I won’t pay for your insurance. You’re better than this. Then she lunged at me and I said if you touch me I will take you down to the ground. Then she said she would call the police. Then I really attacked. If you call the police, you’re going to jail! You’re on probation for assault! Then she said I was using violent communication. I said, no, it’s called reality and the truth.
I wish I had never known her criminal history. It would have made me a lot cooler. Instead, I was already on the defense, which really triggered her. It’s like, all I had to do was be patient and trust in gentleness. But the truth is, I don’t want to be gentle. I want to fight. Why?
Because of my history. A history of being verbally assaulted by meth addicts. A history of being forcefully pushed out. A history of being accused. A history of being yelled at. And I had played my part in all of it. Ohhhh it’s so bad. I think this is all a big fourth step inventory again. I need to get away from these yelling situations so that I don’t also yell. That was my agreement for lent. No yelling. Because right before Kent a homeless man had yelled at me and I started yelling back. I didn’t need to. Even if he was an addict. Even if he was “wrong”. I have everything. Why can’t I be at peace? I don’t get it!
Everything was fine. She hadn’t done anything wrong. The kitchen was just a mess and the bathroom was too. It seemed like she had been up all night and that really freaked me out, because I always wake up to the slightest noise. But to me, this was unacceptable. You need to clean the kitchen and the bathroom within an hour! And don’t cook me anymore food! I don’t trust you! But I had no reason in my experience to not trust her as a housemate. But she kept hiding things everywhere. I honestly thought she was an evil witch putting spells on me. But that is crazy!
The truth is, “homelessness” isn’t that bad to her. That’s how her entire life has been. So it’s like I’m trying to convince her that her life is wrong, and that doesn’t make sense. Even if it is illegal to camp in the woods or on the street. But I have been taught my entire life that that is wrong. That you have to be better than that. And I do believe sleeping in a safe structure is a lot safer in many ways. But is she then going to accept that she’s loved unsafely for 36 years? And accept the emotional pain of that? I remember facing that 5 years ago. If I was going to change, choose a more peaceful path, I was going to have to accept how badly I was hurting. And that was not an easy choice. It seems obvious to anyone else. But to admit I had been wrong for so long?
It’s international women’s day. And I either failed miserably or I did the best I could. I tell the truth and I don’t hold back. Everyone else seems to think you have to be patient and understand your audience. But how does that empower them? I push for action. Make a choice. Don’t stagnate. Keep moving. And remember, this is the United States. There a pre legal definitions that govern our community. And they give strength in subtle way if you trust them. But if you try to have inauthentic strength, watch out, because it will get tested.
I realize I could work better at accepting others. I have a lot of unacceptables. And then I judge people for them.
Ohhh everything has changed again. I am mad at the world.
While Amber was staying here I fasted for three days and prayed a lot. I thought it might help. Something was controlling her. I can’t stand seeing that in someone. I would give away everything to free someone.
I did a practice lap on the old old cabin classic race route today. I hadn’t ridden in a week and since fasting. I barely did one hour over the 11 mile course. Which actually isn’t bad. But I thought I could do a lot better. I rode my cross bike. It was a ton of fun. I might try my mountain bike. It’s heavier but has a better riding position for the uphill. But it would be so cool to race that trail on a cross bike. Haha! Just for fun! Oh man. I got a flat but I got someone to patch me up. I got the flat at the top. I literally put my bike down and laid down in the weeds. That’s definitely my favorite thing to do. Just collapse into the weeds. That’s where I could hide when I was a kid. And be free.
I have all brand new subfloor and a nice kitchen layout. So I’m moving things around like the table that I traded a bunch of pavers for and the couch. Got rid of a bunch of old magazines. It’s really nice! This house might actually be a really nice house! I just waiting for my approval letter so I can schedule inspections and get the drywall back on!!!!
It’s funny once you start doing a lot the little details don’t matter so much anymore because you have confidence and experience. The details are still important but my project planning capabilities have already accounted for them plus back up plans, and sometimes it’s nice to let things just happen. In fact that’s my whole life. I let things happen. Except for drinking drinks from strangers. That’s the one thing.
The only problem is I got this giant wood stove for free but I can’t figure out where it could fit. It would be so great to have one in here. I guess I could put it in and try it out for a while.
I’m on this kick where if I haven’t used something in a month, then it’s gone. So everything wends up getting installed or getting recycled. Which is awesome!!!!! It gives me a strong sense of clarity. I can actually be more present!!
Well the last week was a flurry. I pulled it my floors, cleaned them up, pulled out the subfloor, pulled out the old gas lines, re ran new 1″ gas line which my instant hit water heater LOVES, then sisters ina bunch of supporting joists and blocking, cleaned the crawl space and finished laying down plastic, then put in new subfloor. Oh yeah and replumbed the kitchen. So now the appliances are all in their new spots and the floor is back. It’s a really good layout. The kitchen is much more of a cottage kitchen and accessible and everything, between the new joists and the layout feels much better supported. And big gas lines. The gas lines were $300 in total. Definitely a good investment. Oh and that feeling when you get the joint doped up all good and cleanly and then twist them to a perfect fit. And get all the lengths to work out correctly.
It would have been nice to borrow and extra fifty thousand and just have someone redo this whole place from t(e beginning. But I couldn’t find a layout that was good and remain living here. But it’s been an 8 year journey of sailing and beach and friends staying here so I think it was worth it. This place could be a two story epic cottage. But for now it’s still a great little bungalow thing. With new gas lines! Oh and I got the meter to stand a little prouder and be better supported. The only thing was this was all illegal I did it before getting the permit. But I had to fix it! And I don’t m is what the inspector is going t say because he’ll have to go under the house under all the new flooring. He won’t like that I hear. I may FaceTime him from under the house so I can just crawl around and show him everything.
What’s my favorite thing? Mediation.
This is the deal! I thought I had agreed to marry Stacey Peterson from Giro. And it was either nothing or it was everything. It was nothing in that it was my perception of a few mutually audible conversations that occurred at work when Stacey and I sat in cubicle groups next to each other, our two teams having alternating conversations and meetings that could be overheard. And my perception could have meant nothing if it didn’t mean anything to her. But if it did have the same meaning to her, than it was everything! And I wanted to honor the agreement and also make her honor it too. And I did not want to die and face not honoring the biggest promise you can make!
But I was starting to think, maybe it was nothing to her? Which is fine. But I was willing to wait to talk to her to find out. Because what if she had the same intention? That would be so cool! What a story! But four or five years later, as it is now, I have no clue. I don’t know if she was on the same page. Everything definitely indicated otherwise. And that made it weird because I had fantasized about having a life with her. And that’s kind of disrespectful. But I suppose I had fantasized haven’t sharing a life with a few choice people. Like sizing them up. Could it work?
All I know right now is I need to finish my house. I might sell it then, I don’t know. Then I need to start work. Then in May supposedly there will be a meeting where this elusive person is supposed to discuss things with me. And then, I will be a free man. Either free to date someone else or free to marry her.
Amber was changing her clothes outside of the bathroom. That is against the rules. I wanted to scream get out of my house you wacko! She is obnoxious. But instead I went in my room and closed the door for a few minutes. I had thought this must be better here than sleeping the the cold Forrest with poison oak and men trying to have sex with her and getting fractured bones. But my place is torn apart, she has no real bed, the heating is out right now, and she’s really obsessed with getting her car back. Getting her car means dmv, then trio to San Jose to have a key made from the vin, then me loaning 1500 to get the car. All in the hopes that she doesn’t flip out and lose her car again. I am learning that stolen generally means she flipped out and lost something. It is not clear how this occurs as I haven’t witnessed it, but I assume she runs somewhere, ditches something like her backpack or car, and then runs away and changes her clothing so the monster can’t find her. It’s the same reason it took me three days to find her. But I did.
So tomorrow, my plan was to get the floor back in and heating. But now I have to discuss with my adopted person, what’s more important to her? Heating, car, or bed?the car may be out of the question because I don’t know if I can loan that. And what does it gain her? Maybe she wanted to lose the car. Maybe that means something.
If I hadn’t taken her in, none of this would matter. I wouldn’t have to be patient. I wouldn’t have to accommodate her. I would just finish my project and think about the future. I really can’t decide what’s better.
I don’t know exactly what is going on, but I am definitely fighting some kind of internal battle. And it has been relentless. In the last week everything has changed for me. That’s the danger of seeing a counselor. But it’s good. I feel self fulfilled. Which is important.
For me to be present inside my own body and emotionator and feel power over myself, separate, in control, and focused, is intensely painful. Hence I have avoided my entire life. I have always been able to be present, and I do it by sort of focusing on my legs and doing this mental push inside, I can’t explain it. I do something that forces my focus. And it hurts so bad! It feels like I am being electrocuted, and if I really get in to it, my legal and arms start convulsing. If I do this for ten seconds, it hurts so badly and that’s all I can handle. But it gives me an awareness. If I don’t do it, I lose self awareness and I start being codependent and worrying more about other people who I can’t change instead of myself. This week for some reason I was able to do this a lot. It hurts so badly. But after a minute of shaking it stops and I feel an intense calm and feel normal and release all my pain and anger and start remembering my whole life and all the good and good people. I go from freaking out to living in reality. I’ve been doing it so much that now it doesn’t hurt to do it anymore and I am practicing constantly doing it. I am aware, and focused, and present! It’s good!
The truth is that I think it is a physical trauma from being electrocuted. I remember being subjected to this weird little gray metal box that my dad used to brain wash me. It is crazy and I do remember this happening. It’s funny because he used to always blame my mom for brain washing me. Haha! He would shock me pretty hard, and used it to reinforce verbal commands like you are useless. You are wrong. You are sick. Etc. a few years back I also realized that I was sent to the hospital for electric shock when I was a kid! But my mom can’t really explain why! My dad also did verbal training with our parrot. He had this nifty tape deck that could loop, and he would record something on it and it would play over and over for the parrot. He also had a book on hypnosis. He had a lot of very strange things. Penis pencils. Little boxes that talked dirty words. Child pornography. Handcuffs. Whips. A box of sex toys that mom said she saw but didn’t have any affiliation with. It is crazy And it is all good now! And if I can, I’m going to destroy his fantasy! 🙂
What happened was wrong, and sadistic, and sick! But it is all OK now. Everything is OK. I have myself and I am in control. I can protect myself and take care of myself. And I’m happy! Yesterday I rode a horse! And we cantered and trotted in circles and figure eights. It was epic!!!