The day started out dreary; gray clouds and chill creeping in - all around.
I woke up to raindrops tap-dancing on the roof above my head. Walking down the stairs to the kitchen, I noticed that Holland had been cold in the wee hours of the morning, before he came to bed:
The wet, chilly weather had Holland utilizing the warming double-thickness vest I had made for him.
I was peacefully enjoying a cup of coffee, listening to the rainfall.
Then the peacefulness was shattered: Holland woke up in fight mode, no doubt generated by the YouTube videos he filled his head and eyes with … before allowing the sandman his due.
Holland does not sleep like normal people - his brain struggles with a traumatic brain injury which occurred when he was a young child. his sleep pattern is sketchy at best, and his brain circuits - when over stimulated, get stuck sometimes.
Right now, he's been online steadily this month, toggling between RV Life videos and political bitching videos … and his thoughts are stuck on the jeffery epstein political squawks: I don't care about it … and I do not want to hear anymore about it. And it annoys me that "people who live in glass houses are always the self-righteous ones, who joyfully jump on the hamster wheel to spin their wheels bitching, moaning, and willy-nilly hurling stones." I do not want to hear anymore about it from him, and his family. That upset him, "Then I won't talk to you anymore about anything! I'll talk with Lana, and Cal. You always bring my family into everything I want to talk about." To which I replied, "Fine - those 2 are always ready to engage in self-righteous fight mode; the 3 of you can spew your piety all over the place in Kelso and Woodland. But you might want to clean up your own backyards before looking over someone else's fence and bitching about their messes. And, I wouldn't bring your family and friends into anything if you would stop talking about them every minute of every day, excusing and whitewashing what they are doing - which isn't much different that what you are always bitching about other people doing. I d.o.n.o.t.w.a.n.t.o.t.h.e.a.r. anything more about 'despicable!' political crap, until you all start dealing with your own 'despicable!' family dramas. It's very annoying. It's very draining. My ears are bleeding from the continual barrage of shit I don't care about." Then, he started on my siblings, kids, and grandkids … and I stole all his hot air by calmly saying, "I really don't know - they could be doing all that, and possibly more. I haven't spoken with my siblings, or my children, or my grandchildren in years. They stopped talking to me years ago when I refused to whitewash their doings. All communication on their end has ceased - and I stopped reaching out. I don't miss the drama, or the inevitable fiery fallouts. And I don't want yours foisted on me, either. Unless you want to talk about the present - concerning US, with me being your primary family; and our going forward to build a Life for US, I don't care what is going on anywhere else, with anyone else: there will always be epsteins, just as there will always be drug cartels and murderous gangs. There will always be obamanites … and there will always be dysfunctional families. None of that will change despite political one-ups with the changing of the guard every 4 years. And nothing will change in families until people generate change to end generational dysfunction. All that will ever change is how we change to become better people to generate personal happiness that will affect everything and everyone around us - I have chosen that route to walk in my Life; you choose to dwell in a glass house dome, and walk a familiar dysfunctional familial path - strewn with everything you are bitching about; a path you expect me to listen about - and not comment about. That is unfair, very annoying, and is causing chaotic dysfunction in our home. You are constantly verbally dragging me into your {immediate family} dramas … instead of recognizing that I am your primary immediate family, and I am not part of those dramas - nor do I want to be. I put my childhood traumas behind me looong ago - and I was permanently kicked out of my children & grandchildren's lives because I would not embrace, and make place, for the nonsensical trauma dramas that ruins their lives - and makes mine miserable to listen to the dribble; I like the peace that ensued. I enjoy peace in my life. I want peace in my life. I intend to have peace in my life. You are always in fight mode; disturbing any peace we may find together to build a happy home. I am tired, and worn out, by your constant need to be fighting. Please, go to your immediate family in Kelso and Woodland, and engage in self-righteous acts and angry dribble all day with them; and let me enjoy a few hours of peace in my immediate realm, until you return." His final jab, "There you go - being a victim."
I just laughed. He still doesn't know me: I've never been a victim, and I'll never be a victim; and he can't make me his victim, when the black mood is heavy on him - that, is the real issue behind all the weekend fight mode drama.
I'm not playing that childish game.
So, he'll be in Kelso Tuesday morning - he took off here, 30 minutes ago: probably on his way to Woodland.
Either way, it will be a [peaceful on the Homefront] day for me, today.
I am not making time for energy vampires, anymore - no matter how close they are to me.
Here, I received (and answered) friendly texts, briefly tapped into my FB Page - and laughed out loud when, just for fun, I played a game a friend of mine had played; and posted:
And just like that … I had confirmation to counter Holland's rant. I have never been - nor, will I ever be … "a victim!" That accusation holds no water, and that dog don't hunt. People who take the time to get to know me, KNOW victim mentality gets no free rent space in my head 😉
A text to reroute my thoughts … a friend requesting a list of the Clive Cussler Reads exchanged between us, so we avoid buying the same titles.
Rain, rain … PLEASE GO AWAY
Text from my Graysriver friend, Ramona.
Rays of sunshine on a storm cloud day …
Text from Vegas daughter-of-the-heart, Sara.
There is no point in getting unduly angry with my husband's angry outbursts. He's dealing with traumas I know nothing about. He needs a divine healing to soothe the scars, heal the wounds, and birth a new lease on life for him … and he refuses that touch from Yeshua. The familial Redmill religion has taught him that he can do no wrong; outright sin is acceptable; once saved - always saved (and he redmill mindset in regard to sin, and saved, is very loose); money is the ultimate goal - no matter how it is attained; everyone who is not a redmill is an infidel (sounds kinda muslim, to me); women are fallen creatures who must be brought to heel & marriage is disposable if the woman is rebellious; family loyalty is sacred and above everything and everyone else.
It's caveman mentality.
Hollywood Argyles - 1960 'Alley Oop' song:
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P4SkWRFfMY&t=2s)
I am not a cavewoman.
My Neanderthal is angry with me.
And my God apparently thinks I'm badass enough to tough it out with the caveman mentality. Maybe I am … but I'm tiring of the battles; I just want peace in my life, again.
I wish our {becoming} would finally come into {being}: I for 1, am really tired of the fightful transformation metamorphosis phase.
Everyone included in my small circle of friends is at some point, dealing with fallout from their hurried lives to date; most go about healing quietly - my husband resists healing, and is always in fight mode. It can be very tiring, and taxing on the nerves.
I've come too far to let his demon angsts cause turmoil in the peaceful way I choose to live my Life: I am not going to be dragged backwards; hence the heated fallouts.
Backing back out of FB, and pushing against today's gray cloud and rainy atmosphere, I got back at work on my current project …
My current original design project … st. st. & texture sts.
My circular knitting needle came apart! Thankfully, I have another … and I can change it out, and keep keeping on.
And hopefully by Day's end, my Neanderthal will chose to come back to his cozy cave in a better frame of mind.
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