The More Things Change the New World Order

Self isolation, social distancing: it's cool, it's kinda my thing anyways. But as much as it is already my thing, so is feeling suddenly awkward and inside out; the vulnerable part of my flesh on display for all the people that aren't looking, are never looking, their too busy doing their own things, feeling their own vulnerability. Just alone. Everyone alone. Surrounded and alone.

But only for a little while perhaps, only until the early morning passes and the stories that lay on the tips of tongues, stories of the the way the world will be now, the eerie, surreal new world order, get drowned out by the needs and clatter of the waking world.

But for now, every post apocalyptic story you ever read or watched ticks like the second hand on a watch. It's happening...

Only, it's not. It's nothing new even. I'm sure our world has had outbreaks worse than this before. And now, we have so many other ways to manage and fill our time, to stay in touch, connected. This isolation is a non-issue for us: the strong enough, the (just) young enough, the progressed world enough.

But still, it lingers.

The entire world is shutting down. If that isn't the eeriest thing in my lifetime, than I don't know...

Wait, that's a stupid sentence. It's eerie but -

The eeriest actual thing in my lifetime was this time I was 21ish. I had been dating this coked up dummy. This coked up dummy and a (best at the time) friend of mine kinda-sorta hooked up, then shortly after that he brought a girl back to my apartment. All of this was great because I hadn't known how I was going to get rid of him. He was a very persistent leach. This made it clear and easy to him that there was no coming back. However, it fucked up my friendship, and although I had wanted to get rid of him, the whole sorted affair left me hurt (how could I have even let him in my life, am I stupid?) and alone.

Fast forward a few months and my friend and I start to try and mend the fence (chicks before dicks and all). The break up had left it so that I had leave my apartment with him. I now rented a room in a house with people I didn't really relate to. My prized fig tree died as if mimicking my upturned, dying in a dark room soul.

I go out one night with my best friend to the same tired bar, the same tired drinks, but I don't last very long. Everything in my life has changed, I have changed. I have no fucking idea who I am. I want more of and for myself. I want control.

I go home and I have such a bad headache. I crawl into my bed, the only space in the world that is truly mine and I begin to cry; I cry the deepest sad cry about nothing I can actually put my finger on. I just cry. My head is killing me and the crying only makes it worse, but still I shut my eyes as tight as a I can and I cry - deeper and deeper and deeper - until BAM

My mind blast open like - like lightening - and behind my closed eyes, clear as fucking day, there I am: a little girl tucked down in the corner of what looks like a makeshift closet built of plywood. I can see a work shelf and there's army paraphernalia hung about. I know the house I'm in, I know I'm in the cold, dark basement, but I don't remember this closet.

I sat up with a sort of gasp - eyes wide open - what the fuck was that?

And the tears stopped. The sadness stopped. It was all gone. Even the headache was gone. I felt, oddly, so oddly, at total peace. I laid my head down and slept what would probably be the best sleep of my life.  I had achieved a most amazing feat.

I had travelled back in time. I had portalled back into my body, into a moment, an experience,  that I had no clue of ever having experienced. I have many memories of that horrible chapter of my life but not this very specific one. I had scienced; and this achievement, this level of control, was... magnificent, beautiful, and enough.

Whatever the core of the sadness I was feeling was, it must have been the same as that little girl version of me: sexual betrayal, female abandonment, loss of faith all wrapped into one moment. And the depth of my crying, the hard squeezing shut of my eyes, created a portal back in time to a moment where the adult me and the little five year old me were exactly the same.

It wasn't eerie in the moment it happened, that was freeing. What was eerie was after the fact, after that less than a second visual experience, I had my life and myself back. It was as if a missing puzzle piece had been replaced and I was whole. I was more than whole, I was at least 110% now. And it was eerie that somehow I knew I didn't have to dig deeper into that memory, it was enough that we saw each other for that split second, and we were, once again, one. I had her and she had me.

So, perhaps, the eeriness I feel now is similar in that change is afoot, big change. A shift. An earthquake. And, like the rest of the world, I feel a little vulnerable. I didn't intend to draw a connection to these two events, but maybe there is one. Maybe it's just that even though everything is changing, everything will be the same.

After that moment of blazing clarity wherein I became whole, I still went out into the world and made more stupid decisions that put me in weak positions, it didn't make me smarter. I was still twenty. Even though my game piece had changed irrevocably, I still made the same moves.

Perhaps, I just cared less about them though. Perhaps I knew, deep down, that none of it mattered, not really.

And although on the surface, during this time of COVID-19, things feel scary and weird, it matters not in the big picture. It's but a synapse. A stroke of lightening.

And for all of us who, from time to time, feel this awkward, uncomfortable sense of vulnerability, it's only a matter of time, pressure, and depth until we experience that flash of clarity that will set us free once again.

And maybe, just maybe, there are magical properties about all of us that extend the existence we currently know. Maybe there is no timeline. Maybe, just maybe, we have yet to crack the surface of what we are capable of

We are Just Insects, Part II

Sure. I'm angry deep down inside that my mother is slowly dying. The stages of grief, perhaps. I'm getting a head start.

I'm also angry in general. Perhaps at myself or perhaps directly with my partner. What once brought me smiles and joy now brings me frustration and dismay. Is it me, I wonder? Have I failed again? Am I self sabotaging... again?

Maybe he has a learning disability. It's entirely possible. But, I don't know this for sure, and what I see is someone who appears capable not really trying to be smart or accountable or grown up or self aware or self sufficient.

At work, I've known for sometime that he uses me as a way to understand the work he is doing or could be doing. When he does outreach to customers he'll ask me to proof his email (he's not especially good with the words) and, mostly, I've stopped what I'm doing to tweak his correspondence. The other day, he asked me to read his email and once I did, I said something like, "Yeah, it's good. You could just tweak this part, maybe say it like yadda yadda" and he responded, "Could you just write that out?" with a little bit of an annoyed tone.

Are you fucking kidding me? Clearly, I've done myself a disservice by doing this very thing in the past, but now he's come to expect it?


In our job, our place of work, I have a monumentous project and he has make-work projects, a position he put himself into because he, ultimately, didn't like that I ended up leading the main project and he didn't agree with the way I was doing it, so we hired a new designer and he built himself a role of researcher.

Great. Only -ugh- only... so-many-things-here.

The gist of it is - he doesn't know what he's doing with himself. He needs direction but he only wants it in the way that makes it appear as if he didn't get it from someone else? Sort of? He asks your (my) opinion and then promptly argues against it so as to give himself a voice. Yeah, that's a big one. And, he's so far up his own ass on this behaviour, and so young, that explaining the possibility of this behaviour would be like explaining algebra to a second grader - knowing- that their lifestyle depended on it.

The opposite of this happens at home. At home, he is saccharine. Kiss kiss, snuggle, "you're so cute," kiss kiss. 

Meanwhile, I am longing to be with someone that engages me and/or is self contained. He is not self contained. He is smeared all the fuck over the place, like jam carefully spread right to the crust of the bread. There is no corner unjammed. And the engagement is mostly me explaining the concepts of algebra and the applications of algebra in life, over and over again.

Boop!

I keep thinking back to the beginning, what was so different in the beginning that I was so attracted to him? He seemed more like a.... a man. He knew what he wanted and where he was going.

And now, he's kind of drowning - maybe - and hanging on to me as a lifeline. But when it becomes obvious that he's pulling me underwater and I look at him, he lets go and says "What? No, I'm not doing that, I've got my own personal floating device right here."

"No, you were using me, you were grabbing my legs."

"No" he says, "maybe I did for a second but that was just to try and help you."

"What? I didn't need help..." I reply

"Why are you so stubborn?" he would say, "You don't have to be so independent, it's okay to get help."

"But... I don't need help swimming" or walking or, you know, basic human functions.

As I write this, I see that there is a bit of (he-comes-by-it-honestly) gaslighting going on. He's trying to cover up or hide his feelings of inadequacy within me. And, again, his emotional intelligence is in its infancy. And this possible learning disability where he can't seem to retain a lesson mitigates any progress you make explaining something. The next day, he seems to have forgotten, his mind has reset.

How do you explain to someone that they're not being smart and not trying hard enough to find themselves. Isn't that something that they have to come to themselves based on the consequences of their actions? 

Yet... YET! He's clever enough to find ways to use me to cover up things he doesn't want to face.

Now, it gets worse; not only am I engaging in some codependency here, my employer is too.

If I had to hazard a guess,  my lovely, clever, funny, sexy man has found a way, through out his whole life, to get people to "help" him get to the next goal post. His mom, his brother, his dad, his friends, peers, luck, and now me. As well, he's learned to apply his genuine charisma (the jam) in a way that is genuinely loveable, he then becomes indispensable in other areas of your life, areas that are not quite adjacent to the reason he showed up there, but... seemingly helpful nonetheless?

My employer would likely, is likely refusing to let him go because he loves him and has very genuine affection for him. He contributes to a zaney, loveable culture at our work. He's basically tenured based on his personality and how he, occasionally, brings people together, not because of the work he produces.

As for me, in the beginning he fired me up, attracted me, made me feel sexy and like a woman who was with a man. I feel a bit like a mom or sister now, always trying to help him figure shit out, but I keep him around as a partner because he chops wood and cleans the house- so that's good, right?

So this is what is angering me, that I am at this juncture and I don't want to be. Do I:

1) tell him what isn't working and why and *we* work on it? We? Really? 
2) just leave (eventually) as gracefully and lovingly as possible.

Let me be clear (with me) here,  I was very upfront that I did not want a marriage. We did not enter this housing partnership under the terms of marriage. We entered it as two adults who enjoyed each others company and could make really good use of cheaper rent if we cohabitated, i.e. roommates that have sex when and as they want (because that never goes wrong and there's no way to fall into a marriage like environment when you love each other first and roommate second. I am so (not) smart).

So, my question at the beginning: Is it me, I wonder? Have I failed again? Am I self sabotaging... again?

Well, that just sounds ridiculous and un-empowered for a woman of my age and experience. This is how life goes, plain and simple, this is a cycle of life (and love). He is not unloveable, however now that the shine of good behaviour that is the beginning of a relationship has worn off, we are left with seeing each other in the real. At this stage, you will either still like each other or not. There is no failure. Just facts.

We are just insects. There is no magic. Magic is just truth with sparkles.

Self sabotaging. Ha! At this time in life. Hu-Larious.