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.