Friday was a very bad day – the early morning hours started out rough, and by 10:30 a.m., chaos reigned supreme.
Saturday was calmer, but just as tilted.
All because of 1 out-of-control persona.
Wednesday was a good day.
Sandwich Date: https://roadgypsiesvalandholland.blogspot.com/2025/05/sandwich-date-seaview-wa.html
I didn't realize until a few days later that it was a typical redmill buttering-up day. You'd think that after 2-1/2 years of being married to this man, I'd know the drill.
But, I don't.
Thursday morning, Holland had an appointment scheduled for Betsy's transmission maintenance, in Longview - he left here while it was still dark. I took the time while he was gone to deep clean Independence; from end to end. I got supper underway … allergies left my body alone, and allowed me enough mercy to feel rejuvenated enough to apply some makeup & slip into one of the blouses Graysriver Ramona gifted with 2 weeks ago.
Winding down from my busy morning activities, I was starting to work on my current knitting project; when I caught sight of Betsy pulling into our parking space; we were both surprised - me that he was home early … and him, that I was feeling well enough to be wearing something other than my p.j.'s:
Gifts from Linda - passed onto me, from Ramona; my favorite colors.
SELF-CARE FRIENDSHIP DAY; Rosburg-WA:
(https://roadgypsiesvalandholland.blogspot.com/2025/05/self-care-friendship-day-rosburg-wa.html)
Seeing me dressed and wearing some makeup, he asked and off-hand question that didn't make sense until yesterday - when he was talking to his cousin, in Colorado. Coming into the house Thursday afternoon, he asked, "Am I in trouble? Are you going somewhere?" I thought that question was kinda strange, but I laughed it off as him just being silly, seeing me in something other than p.j.'s (I have been laid low with allergies, sleeping most days away - when I am not coughing and sneezing).
However, while talking to his cousin - he let the cat out of the bag.
And that earlier strange question … suddenly made sense.
I played it cool, though I was fuming. I had specifically asked him not to visit the houses in Kelso because Mark's is always filled with a thick cloud of cigarette and marijuana smoke - and last time we were at Scott & Lana's together, it also was filled with cigarette smoke: and Lana was walking around with an oxygen tank oxygenizer stuck up her nose, with cigarette in hand.
I have asthmatic lungs.
Holland has COPD complications.
I can't visit these people when their houses are filled with cigarette smoke … and I specifically asked Holland not to, either. He already struggles to breathe; and I'd like to have him around for a while.
But Holland is going to do what he wants to do, when he wants to do it, with whoever he feels he wants to do it with - and he doesn't want any flack about that.
So, when the call with his cousin ended, and feeling guilty about the phone convo slip; Holland started the ensuing fight with, "I have a right to visit my family. Where I go, and who I spend time with is none of your fucking business."
This happens every time he makes a trip to Kelso.
Rebellion thrives there. Drug use is encouraged. Suicidal behavior resides in the houses there. "Rights" are strongly enforced in the rebellious, tripped out, risky mindsets shared among the siblings - Holland, included.
What's the point of arguing with him anymore? Holland is going to do what he wants to do, when he wants to do it, with whoever he feels he wants to do it with - and he doesn't care, or respect me enough to understand that his married life now is not just about him; his bachelor day wants, or bachelor day self-righteous rights, anymore.
So, I just shut the fight down with, "You're right. You do have a right to be wrong. That said … I also have a right, and I choose the right to allow you [your right]. You want to continue living a bachelor lifestyle? Fine with me. You want to continue acting like an overgrown brat? Fine with me. You want a Wife connection with me - while treating me like a whore … not fine with me. The line you keep shouting at me, [that it's none of my fucking business where you go, what you do, or who you do it with], is what men angrily tell their whores to shut down any connection to them at all besides the bedroom connection. N.o.t.o.k.a.y.w.i.t.h.m.e! So, I'm going to respectfully pull back from your hellfire blaze - I've already raised my kids and grandkids; I don't need an overgrown binky sucker shouting at me, stomping his feet, and stating his rights to behave as a rebellious, self-righteous brat. I want a full-grown man in my life, who understands what being a mature Husband means: none of your redmill males understand that simple logistic fact - and the redmill females are just as at fault, for accepting this bad behavior; I am not a redmill woman, and I do not accept the redmill bullshit. We specifically came back to WA from AZ because you were bitching about {clogged lungs} due to the sand storms: and now you have the unmitigated gall to stand there in self-righteous anger and complain about my "bitching", because I don't want you want to clog your struggling lungs up with cigarette smoke! I asked you not to go. You went anyway … and deliberately hid that phlegm-inducing incident from me, when you came back here; I wouldn't have known at all why you are gasping for breath, spitting up, or coughing uncontrollably … until you were talking with your cousin and mentioned the house visits. So, understanding now that you don't see this marriage as anything more than a strategic battlefield filled with landmines and underhanded ploys; I'm going to withdraw from an unwinnable situation, and let you enjoy your [rights], while I set into play a few rights of my own. It's my right to stop engaging in self-destructive behaviors rooted in rebellious rights. It's my right to want - and expect - peace in my golden years. I'm living on borrowed time; I don't have time … and I am not making time, to entertain your suicidal tendencies." Then, he hit me with a new punch-line, saying, "Well, you'll probably be dead in 5 years." That was a new low for him; but he had just spent time with his rotten, mean-spirited family, & I kinda expected it. Speaking unkind or wounding words = a "curse of words", is a redmill hallmark from both genders; it's the redmill [way]. So, I wrapped up the argument with, "That may be so. I may very well be dead in 5 years time (I'll be 74 yo, then) … could be sooner, given my faulty lungs & heart - as well as the fact that you just spoke a curse over my life, which is not a Christian thing to do if you are claiming to be a Christian; Elohim specifically forbids witchcraft - I don't give a shit what your family teaches: Elohim forbids curses, of any kind. But in the meantime, I am not going to be fighting with you anymore. About anything. You keep your "rights", curse anyone that gets in your way, and spend your nights alone; with your free-wheeling bachelor ideals, your Indian witchcraft/vineyard/redmill religion bullshit, & your suicidal family bonds. I don't want to do this anymore - you are all out of control; I need space from you for a while. I don't take this pompous self-righteous shit from anyone - not strangers, not my kids, or my grandkids; and I'm not going to take it from you."
His family is certifiable batty. He is not the man he put forward to me for the 18 months of our friendship before marriage; and he for sure is not the husband he promised me I'd be getting, if I wove my life with his. This marriage is so toxic. It doesn't matter where we are hunkered down - he always carries the redmill chaos with him that poisons anything good struggling to be born between our outreaching hearts. The redmill testosterone-driven-cultic-toxicity, overshadows everything concerning US.
Literally.
E.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.
Unless there is a miraculous and divine break with that devilry, this complex and exhausting marital situation is hopeless.
Which brought on the first tears of the entire torturous day.
It's always sad when it's apparent that bull-headedness rooted in poisoned rootstock, is determined to undermine a good thing. Simply for the self-righteous right to be wrong.
That my husband does not - or actually refuses - to understand that his lifestyle choices are a blatant red flag of disrespect; destroying the thinning fabric of our marriage; undermining the shaky thread of love still clinging to the tattered fabric; and staunchly stands by the testosterone-ridden-redmill right to be wrong (because to bend to my wishes means he is pussy-whipped) … is sad, and heartbreaking.
So; my heart cried. For what was, what could have been - what is, and what will be.
And my spirit whispered, “Remember Job”.
That’s all it took to dry my tears up.
Job is my “go to” Book in the Bible because it’s SO FULL of HOPE and COMFORT for the soul-weary Christian caught in a battle they do not want.
Time is wrapping up – for me personally (5 years comes up on a person very quickly), and for the world in general: I don't believe in the power of curses over a Christian's Life, but I do believe that as a Christian, I need to make sure my heart is right; and that I am ready to meet Yeshua whenever the time comes to be called Home; and given the way things are unfolding in the world today … chances are I could be called Home at any given second. I'm ready. I've been ready since 1965, when I got saved & water baptized. I can't allow myself to be sidelined by the chaos continually whipped up by people in my immediate circle that are bent on self-destruction & devilish behavior. I don't want to find myself benched in the end game because I got side-tracked - or kept stressed out with nonsense.
It is possible to have peace in the midst of the storm – I have experienced that peace several times in my lifetime when I keep my eyes on Yeshua and my mind on Elohei.
Even though I don’t know where this new path in my life will take me, I am not afraid of the unknown destination … or the continual chaotic frenzies: I went through many chaotic frenzies through the decades, and especially during months before Bob's physical death - and the turbulent months with the kid's sadistic behaviors towards me, following Bob's death; I will confidently weather the redmill frenzies too, because I know Elohim is always aware with a ready & timely response, Yeshua is always present, and the peace of the Ruach HaKo'desh comforts me.
Nothing Holland throws my way is anything new: I've already dealt with all of it, and came out of the sulfurous hellfire in one piece smelling like a rose. Being thrown to the wolves is nothing new, either … I came back stronger & leading the pack. Hellfire & wolves don't scare me.
But Holland's presence in my Life did - and does - surprise me. This entire situation surprises me because I don't take missteps, or engage in mishaps: I take every precaution to avoid serious pitfalls. So, finding myself mired in an ever expanding emotional sinkhole is pretty surprising. And confusing. And very complex.
There's no doubt that Elohim orchestrated this entire thing.
But, I'm at a complete loss as how to explain why.
Holland has had the proverbial {1 foot out the door} for much of this marriage; and it's very confusing, and presses on more than 1 of my nerves.
But I don't argue with Elohim.
I may argue with my husband, but I don't argue with Elohim.
For whatever reason Elohim tied our lives together, I will continue forward with my husband; being a domestic wife in the situation I have been thrust into. I will honor Elohim in this weird and strange marriage. I will honor my husband while struggling through a disjointed, and disconnected barren marriage - by doing this, I am also honoring Yeshua's teaching on marital unions … which will open many, many more ‘in the moment’ future doors: 1 for each new day I am granted to walk this Earth.
Hopefully, at some point, Holland will actually be enjoying a married-married Life with me, instead of trying to force a lopsided marriage with a solo lobo-bachelor mindset-outlook attached to it, on US.
My life with Bob’s love in it, opened many exciting doors for 44 years of my 68 years.
My life with Holland's love in it (when he relaxes enough to allow love to linger), also opened many exciting doors for brief periods of time during our short marriage period: we've only been married for 29 months. Holland had been a bachelor for 25 years before he hitched his wagon to mine. He has been a redmill for 62 years - the testosterones-ridden-redmill-drive to be right at all costs, is strong.
29 months compared to 44 years is not even comparative.
But, it can be good - IF Holland will distance himself from the chaotic redmill dysfunction, and allow it.
I don’t make time for nonsense.
I choose the right to enjoy happiness, peace, and love.
I want happiness in our Life together.
I want peace in our home.
Happy should not be a constant struggle.
Happiness can't be "found".
Happiness won't "just magically happen".
I don't know yet how I am going to go forward - but I know I will: I will, because there's no other choice.
My Blog will be my journaling sounding board - the Friends I've made over the 21 years of Blogging are a great source of comfort during trying times; they are outreaching, encouraging, helpful, supportive, humorous, and engaging … and I will never run into any of them on the local streets, and have to field questions of , "How are you doing?" while my face betrays what my mouth says. I will mean it when I say, "I'm doing okay" - but {okay} in any given complicated situation carries several different interpretations; the primary meaning, meaning I'm weathering the storm, but gray clouds are still present: my face will show the internal struggle.
The friends I have on FB, are friends I occasionally run into - so, I'm not tapping into my FB Page that much, right now: my friends there, understand. They understand because they know me. They have known me for most of my Life … and if I'm pulling back, it's because I am deliberately avoiding awkward situations.
Determination to make happiness a fixed part of life, is a choice.
I choose the right to enjoy happiness, peace, and love.
I want happiness in my Life.
I want peace in my immediate surroundings.
So, I am for the time being, hopefully hanging back; and allowing my husband the time it will require to grow into the man Elohim & I know him to be. I pray that will happen, before the 5 year deadline (no pun intended) Holland threw into this turbulent Life blender, arrives.
I don't know if I can be silent for 5 years … but I'm game to give it a gung ho effort.
Love grows where happiness and peace thrive.
