So we talked to the psychologist last night. Joy of joys, I get to talk to Dr. Melvin while Chris works on his issues with Steve (the other one.) We're supposed to meet once a month (I think) as a couple, too. Hrmm.
I can't help being skeptical; that's my nature. I'm skeptical of everything if I don't experience it myself. Like ghosts, for example. Until I had my own experiences, I was skeptical. Open-minded, yes, but skeptical. Same with counseling.
I'm still not sure what they want from me. I just keep getting this impression that they want me to admit that my parents beat me when I was a kid or something (they didn't, just in case you wondered) or that I was abused in some other way. Because why would I have picked a guy like Chris to marry if I wasn't already damaged in some way?
I mean, I can tell them why I stuck around for so long. Pride. It's not the best reason, of course, and not a good reason at all, but I swallowed my pride when I told my parents what was going on. I was very serious when I told Chris that I had had enough. I'm still ambivalent in that respect. I'm going to stick around for six months and see what happens (unless, of course, he does something unforgivable), but I'm still ambivalent.
Heck, I have no pride left. :)
So Steve's a nice guy. Chris tells me that Steve thinks I have a problem with him, because I won't talk, but I don't. Not really. I nodded a lot last night, and agreed with quite a bit about what he said, but most of the problems that struck me were Chris', not mine. Oh, I have my share of problems, yeah, but they're certainly not my parents' fault. They seem to be far too quick in blaming parents. And that's what it is, too. Blame. When do you erase that blame and start getting on with your life? When is Chris supposed to take responsibility for the choices he made (in ignorance, because he had no role models to turn to) and go on with his life?
Last night we had a discussion about the future. About what I want and what he wants. It got a bit heated, but nothing horrible; he just wouldn't see my POV and I wouldn't stop trying to make him see it. (Hey, there's a problem! I don't know when to quit!) He really and honestly doesn't understand or comprehend my POV. I'm not sure he can. Really honestly, it's like he grew up in a totally different culture than me. Although I'm mature enough to respect someone's beliefs even if I don't understand them*.
But anyway, late last night, after the "stupid" route again (Me: Do you think Steve would agree with you calling me stupid?") and after we got into bed, I said, "You know, you could choose to say something nice about me instead of insulting me all the time."
(Possible TMI** alert here...)
So he goes, "I like your breasts."
And I go, "Oh?" (thinking, why? They're different sizes!***)
And he goes, "Well, I do."
And I go, "Was that so hard? Say something else nice to me."
And he goes, "You're smart, expect when you do stupid things."
And I say, "Was that nice?"
And he sighs, and goes, "You're smart. And you're funny. And you're nice."
And I say, "How am I funny?"
And he goes, "I think it's funny that you don't get rock music."
And I go, "Oh. Funny in what way?"
And he says, "Funny Humorous."
And I go, "Oh, okay. Was that so hard?"
And we fall asleep.
So I did get my biography done, but he didn't ask for it, so I didn't turn it in. :) I am such a rebel. It's 11 pages long, and I'm probably going to post it here, since it has nothing hugely secret in it (because I don't have secrets, you know...) and then you can see what a weird child I was. :)
* Another subject that he seems to resent. My desire to live in a small town. He has something against my parents (he can't understand why they're mad at him, even when I point out the fact that emotional and mental abuse is the reason) and he seems to think when my parents die, they will leave me the house and I will want to move to Bethel. Hello?!?!? Are my parents dead?!?!? Do I even want to think about my parents dying?!?!?!! We seriously had an argument about hypotheticals for an hour in Meijer's parking lot last night. He just wouldn't leave it alone. Quotes, "If I owned that house I'd raze it to the ground and sell off lots for developers." "If that land was worth 25k an acre, I'd sell it." "You don't want to know what I'd do to that house if I owned it." "What if you lived there, and developments and suburbs sprang up all around you, and you were offered a lot of money for the house and land? What if Bethel was no longer a nice place to live?" "You'd be perfectly happy living with mommy and daddy, wouldn't you?" "Why do you want to live in an old house when all it will be is a money pit?" "I don't want to buy an old farmhouse and then have to throw money into it for the rest of my life." "I'm going to retire early and spend all day fishing." "My kids won't have to pay their own way through college." Etc., etc. As I said, it was a long argument.
He doesn't get the concept of being a caretaker for the land. That house and property is my home. The very dirt holds memories, both good and bad, and I just happen to be very close to my family. I like to be near them, and with them, and I talk to my mom on the phone all the time. I can be myself with my family. :) I told him if I owned that house and the land, and the land around me was developed and I had to sell, I'd deed it to the Park so the land couldn't be developed. Then he got onto emminent domain and how the government could take your land whenever it wanted to, and how it was financially savvy to always be ready to sell and move on, and it didn't really matter anyway, because you can't take it with you. When I pointed out that he couldn't take his mythical millions with him either, he got all huffy. :) (But I did get a rosemary plant at Meijer!! Now all I need is mint. I'm going to plant the rosemary in the middle between the two lavender plants, and hopefully all three will live through the winter. (I haven't had any luck with mint living through, but the lavender did, and it's now blooming. But I digress.)
But seriously, he doesn't get it. There's more to life than early retirement and always reaching for the next biggest thing and money. I swear, this boy had better get the help he needs... Argh.
I tried to tell him what would make me happy, but I don't think I ever got a chance to. But anyway, here goes...
(What I want)
A house. Preferably stone, but could be brick or wood siding. If wood siding, white or pale wedgewood blue. Two stories, minimum. A basement, and an attic big enough to play in. A sunny bedroom for an office of my own. A garden. This includes flowers, veggies, and herbs. Especially herbs. Like mint. I want my mint to grow wild everywhere. When I mow my grass, I want to smell mint. :) Some land, with woods. Or butting up against a State Park, so I can walk in the woods whenever I want. A long driveway (not essential.) I wouldn't mind living on a hill, or amid the woods. Mature trees, and one I can climb. Close enough to my family so I don't feel so far away. A wrap-around porch, or a porch large enough to sit on comfortably. A small orchard, unless I'm close enough to Dad's to umm, just filch his apples. :) And a greenhouse. (Of course this can be built on.)
That's all. I have particular houses in mind as I say this, of course, but I'd honestly be happy with an old farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere... just as long as I don't have to drive over an hour to get groceries. Although if I only go once a month, that would be a moot point, but still. ;)
**TMI = Too Much Information
*** They are! They really and truly are! It freaks me out. My right breast is a size 36C (I think. I always have to check my bra) and my left one's probably a 34 or so. It's so weird!! I mean, if you look really carefully and I'm wearing a tight shirt, you can tell! Ack. And of course, they don't make bras with different cup sizes for us freaks. :)
So anyway. My meanderings for the morning, even though it's almost noon.
I can't help being skeptical; that's my nature. I'm skeptical of everything if I don't experience it myself. Like ghosts, for example. Until I had my own experiences, I was skeptical. Open-minded, yes, but skeptical. Same with counseling.
I'm still not sure what they want from me. I just keep getting this impression that they want me to admit that my parents beat me when I was a kid or something (they didn't, just in case you wondered) or that I was abused in some other way. Because why would I have picked a guy like Chris to marry if I wasn't already damaged in some way?
I mean, I can tell them why I stuck around for so long. Pride. It's not the best reason, of course, and not a good reason at all, but I swallowed my pride when I told my parents what was going on. I was very serious when I told Chris that I had had enough. I'm still ambivalent in that respect. I'm going to stick around for six months and see what happens (unless, of course, he does something unforgivable), but I'm still ambivalent.
Heck, I have no pride left. :)
So Steve's a nice guy. Chris tells me that Steve thinks I have a problem with him, because I won't talk, but I don't. Not really. I nodded a lot last night, and agreed with quite a bit about what he said, but most of the problems that struck me were Chris', not mine. Oh, I have my share of problems, yeah, but they're certainly not my parents' fault. They seem to be far too quick in blaming parents. And that's what it is, too. Blame. When do you erase that blame and start getting on with your life? When is Chris supposed to take responsibility for the choices he made (in ignorance, because he had no role models to turn to) and go on with his life?
Last night we had a discussion about the future. About what I want and what he wants. It got a bit heated, but nothing horrible; he just wouldn't see my POV and I wouldn't stop trying to make him see it. (Hey, there's a problem! I don't know when to quit!) He really and honestly doesn't understand or comprehend my POV. I'm not sure he can. Really honestly, it's like he grew up in a totally different culture than me. Although I'm mature enough to respect someone's beliefs even if I don't understand them*.
But anyway, late last night, after the "stupid" route again (Me: Do you think Steve would agree with you calling me stupid?") and after we got into bed, I said, "You know, you could choose to say something nice about me instead of insulting me all the time."
(Possible TMI** alert here...)
So he goes, "I like your breasts."
And I go, "Oh?" (thinking, why? They're different sizes!***)
And he goes, "Well, I do."
And I go, "Was that so hard? Say something else nice to me."
And he goes, "You're smart, expect when you do stupid things."
And I say, "Was that nice?"
And he sighs, and goes, "You're smart. And you're funny. And you're nice."
And I say, "How am I funny?"
And he goes, "I think it's funny that you don't get rock music."
And I go, "Oh. Funny in what way?"
And he says, "Funny Humorous."
And I go, "Oh, okay. Was that so hard?"
And we fall asleep.
So I did get my biography done, but he didn't ask for it, so I didn't turn it in. :) I am such a rebel. It's 11 pages long, and I'm probably going to post it here, since it has nothing hugely secret in it (because I don't have secrets, you know...) and then you can see what a weird child I was. :)
* Another subject that he seems to resent. My desire to live in a small town. He has something against my parents (he can't understand why they're mad at him, even when I point out the fact that emotional and mental abuse is the reason) and he seems to think when my parents die, they will leave me the house and I will want to move to Bethel. Hello?!?!? Are my parents dead?!?!? Do I even want to think about my parents dying?!?!?!! We seriously had an argument about hypotheticals for an hour in Meijer's parking lot last night. He just wouldn't leave it alone. Quotes, "If I owned that house I'd raze it to the ground and sell off lots for developers." "If that land was worth 25k an acre, I'd sell it." "You don't want to know what I'd do to that house if I owned it." "What if you lived there, and developments and suburbs sprang up all around you, and you were offered a lot of money for the house and land? What if Bethel was no longer a nice place to live?" "You'd be perfectly happy living with mommy and daddy, wouldn't you?" "Why do you want to live in an old house when all it will be is a money pit?" "I don't want to buy an old farmhouse and then have to throw money into it for the rest of my life." "I'm going to retire early and spend all day fishing." "My kids won't have to pay their own way through college." Etc., etc. As I said, it was a long argument.
He doesn't get the concept of being a caretaker for the land. That house and property is my home. The very dirt holds memories, both good and bad, and I just happen to be very close to my family. I like to be near them, and with them, and I talk to my mom on the phone all the time. I can be myself with my family. :) I told him if I owned that house and the land, and the land around me was developed and I had to sell, I'd deed it to the Park so the land couldn't be developed. Then he got onto emminent domain and how the government could take your land whenever it wanted to, and how it was financially savvy to always be ready to sell and move on, and it didn't really matter anyway, because you can't take it with you. When I pointed out that he couldn't take his mythical millions with him either, he got all huffy. :) (But I did get a rosemary plant at Meijer!! Now all I need is mint. I'm going to plant the rosemary in the middle between the two lavender plants, and hopefully all three will live through the winter. (I haven't had any luck with mint living through, but the lavender did, and it's now blooming. But I digress.)
But seriously, he doesn't get it. There's more to life than early retirement and always reaching for the next biggest thing and money. I swear, this boy had better get the help he needs... Argh.
I tried to tell him what would make me happy, but I don't think I ever got a chance to. But anyway, here goes...
(What I want)
A house. Preferably stone, but could be brick or wood siding. If wood siding, white or pale wedgewood blue. Two stories, minimum. A basement, and an attic big enough to play in. A sunny bedroom for an office of my own. A garden. This includes flowers, veggies, and herbs. Especially herbs. Like mint. I want my mint to grow wild everywhere. When I mow my grass, I want to smell mint. :) Some land, with woods. Or butting up against a State Park, so I can walk in the woods whenever I want. A long driveway (not essential.) I wouldn't mind living on a hill, or amid the woods. Mature trees, and one I can climb. Close enough to my family so I don't feel so far away. A wrap-around porch, or a porch large enough to sit on comfortably. A small orchard, unless I'm close enough to Dad's to umm, just filch his apples. :) And a greenhouse. (Of course this can be built on.)
That's all. I have particular houses in mind as I say this, of course, but I'd honestly be happy with an old farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere... just as long as I don't have to drive over an hour to get groceries. Although if I only go once a month, that would be a moot point, but still. ;)
**TMI = Too Much Information
*** They are! They really and truly are! It freaks me out. My right breast is a size 36C (I think. I always have to check my bra) and my left one's probably a 34 or so. It's so weird!! I mean, if you look really carefully and I'm wearing a tight shirt, you can tell! Ack. And of course, they don't make bras with different cup sizes for us freaks. :)
So anyway. My meanderings for the morning, even though it's almost noon.
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