Friday, August 19, 2022
Wednesday, August 17, 2022
Partnership
Over the past few days, I've worked tirelessly (& I'm not exaggerating) to assist my wife (of 26 years) in preparing her mother's northeast Jackson home to be listed with a realtor. That entailed handyman and housework from morning 'till night within a mazelike 3,000 sf abode. An abode which more or less is just as it was whilst initially occupied by her family in the early '80s.
And when I say that, I'm also referring to all of the unresolved emotional trauma my wife, her younger brother and father endured therein (at the hand of Angie's mother). Childhood trauma that is easily stirred even today, all these years later, by her elderly mother's (who's been catered to throughout this months' long process) tongue. Not to mention her having to spend hours upon hours (+/-50 total days since last fall) sorting through her parents' belongings whilst inside the setting of said abuse.
On Monday, (8/15) evening, after we'd returned home and I'd had a chance to shower, Angie and I sat in the living room of our very-intentionally small abode and chatted about our quite exhausting day together. What was obvious, in spite of our said exhaustion, is we simply relished the sense of partnership. Now, it's important that you know that she's the one who's primarily poured herself into this 6+ month project on behalf of her mother. As such, it was only this week that my aforementioned "services" were warranted. Hence, we (as partners) really hadn't the necessity to attack the giant collectively.
-------------------------
Within walking distance from Angie's childhood home, I vividly remember us as dating love birds, sitting quietly - after dark - snuggled close on a park bench on a cool fall evening. She and I often talked and talked during our courtship, and this night was no different. Thankfully, our chattiness served many purposes, one of which was staving off the physicality (fornication) between us.
But this night ended differently than any other we'd experienced up to that point. On this night, as we strolled back to her parents' home in the dark, she sobbed tears of shame and fear as she anxiously begged me to never leave her behind due to her parents' personal (mental health, neglect, wickedness) issues.
I remember nonchalantly blowing all that off. I felt as if she was being overly fearful, never realizing - in those moments - that this was her childhood trauma revealing itself. I reminded her that I'd known her family (formally) since I was a teen, growing up (too) at First Baptist Church Jackson.
Nonetheless, whilst looking back today, I can tell you that I've had enough of my fill of in-law rancor to easily justify walking away from our marriage. All due to the seeds of discord consistently sown and cultivated by her reflexively condescending parents.
All in all, the best words I can use to describe our experience regarding her family is: unrelentingly difficult.
Imagine driving from one side of the country to the other (East to West coast) but having to do so in reverse. Hence, you're disqualified from using the interstate system (or any other divided highway). Instead, you're handicapped to using all kinds of back roads. In reverse. As a result, the fatigue is constant (massively impeding your progress) since you're always looking over your shoulder in order to make any headway on your journey. Whilst looking back, this ridiculous analogy fits. Yet, Angie never for one moment wasn't worth constantly working - as partners - relative to outwitting the manipulativeness and deceit that were Bob and Edie Sigrest.
As an aside, you must know that the best year of our marriage (most of 2013) was when we lived in Cleveland, MS (2.5 hours - by car - from Jackson, MS) of all places. And this was because we were far removed from my in-laws. Angie smiled every day, and she was so sad when I was fired from my job (resulting in us having to return to Jackson, MS).
-------------------------
My wife and I are slated to pick back up with our hands-on partnership this forthcoming weekend (437 Northpointe Parkway). I'm looking forward to again - physically - standing with her for such a time as this. Demons be damned. It feels as if we're finally close to sealing up this Pandora's Box once and for all.
"The Evidence That I Am Unlovable" - JR Everhart
Sex and love addiction
Bitterness
Rage against those that love me most
Self-centeredness
Greed
Controlling manipulation
Unfaithfulness
Condescension
Dismissive
Cold hearted
This is the evidence the enemy uses to accuse me each and every day. The evidence which my self-hatred and shame are standing on. It’s the junk that pushes people away from me, destroys relationships, and hijacks my focus. It sits on the front row of my life and laughs at me. Mercy cannot be found with these dark forces whispering in your ear every day. Grace is not part of their kingdom. They are absent from God's love, only walking in paths of death and destruction. We must never forget this!
At some point, usually when you’re sick of being sick, or have hit your rock bottom, we have the "prodigal son moment" when we realize that even the servants living in our father's house live better than we do. So, we turn and run into his outstretched arms and find healing and restoration. Man, I really wish that was the end of the story and that we lived happily ever after from that point forward, but we don’t. For years, the church has taught this false comfort theology to its congregations. We still see this happening today inside the prosperity movement, and those that would rather teach blessings and comfort instead of the true gospel of self-denial, suffering and uncomfortable (hard) growth. Following Jesus is not for sissies! It’s a constant long view inward, having to face the filthy darkness that lives in all of us. This is not a journey for the faint of heart or weary. It’s a pathway for warriors, and those with enough chutzpah to keep going even after they’ve been knocked down 1000 times. Yes, it’s true, Jesus has done the heavy lifting, but Jesus is not going to come down into your world and force you to do the right thing from day to day. That responsibility falls on our shoulders (obedience). Jesus himself told us that we must first deny ourselves, then take up our cross and follow him. We are not alone in this journey, but no one can do the work for us. We must face it ourselves. Your friends, or even sponsor (Silas) can only point you in the right direction. We are the ones that have to work the principles of discipleship and/or recovery.
I can always find a thousand things to distract myself from getting quiet with God and seeking his face. I use TV or food, or most of the time - work - to keep me from feeling the pain which lives just below the surface. I recently realized that for me, sometimes that pain is all I have left of the people I loved so much, and I’m scared to death to let it go. Letting it go would mean closure. But, I must allow myself to feel this pain in order for God to heal it and make me whole. It’s so hard, and then I find myself letting go of one pain, just to pick up another. This is a cycle of desperation, birthed out of loneliness. It’s like I say “Okay God, here’s my pain from my ex-wife”, but then I turn right around and try to connect with another toxic woman. A toxic woman that will only enforce the enemy’s efforts to convince me that I’m unlovable, and deserve death. If I do this enough, and believe me I have, I start believing his lies. It’s only when I stop this cycle and take the time to timely heal that I start blazing a new pathway toward stability and satisfaction in life. Yet, this can be a long slow process full of traps and snares. But, Jesus said we’d have problems in this world, and to not fret because he has overcome this world. I always have to remind myself that I’m not a human being having a spiritual experience, but a spirit being having a human experience. This world is not my home, and that’s why it feels so uncomfortable and challenging. We’re just passing through….
Sunday, August 14, 2022
"Give Me Wet Pussy! (I'm Sterile.)"
‘Snip Snip Hooray’: Vasectomies Among the Young and Child-Free May Be Rising – DNyuz
Flippantly / naively choosing sterilization in protest to losing federally protected abortion privileges is akin to joining the priesthood in response to a ban on breast implant surgery.
Saturday, August 13, 2022
My Friend's Nasty Refrigerator / Refusing To Take Emotional Responsibility / Emotionally Engage
I'm convinced that emotions are scary to Mississippians. At least white Mississippians. Black Mississippians not so much. As such, it creates quite the disconnect between the two races; for you have one that's marinating in emotional energy and the other who sees no use for / can't comprehend / would rather ignore it.
Close, interdependent relationships (family / friends) should be an inevitable encounter within this life, and there's no getting around the fact that such the degree of closeness will bring with it emotions of every ilk. For all human beings, white or black, experience emotions, and all human beings are designed for community. All of that is God breathed. Emotions are signposts and litmus tests. In summary: immensely valuable brain energy that's best rationally respected versus ignored outright.
Let's think of these necessary interdependent relationships as staples within a refrigerator. Items like milk, eggs, cheese that are consistently being moved in and out (as they're replenished and otherwise) of the icebox for usage. Over time, inevitably, the inside of the fridge can get cruddy due to the movement, organization and the inevitable reorganization. Not to mention that some of the packaging may be leaky or fail completely. If this is the case, because the cruddy residual is also being kept cool, it doesn't necessarily begin to stink. But it does look (& feel) really bad. To the point that it's undeniable yet still lazily ignorable (behind closed doors / out of sight / out of mind).
People aren't perfect. Especially whilst trying to engage communally. Everyone's within their own unique container, therefore preeminent weak spots abound. Certain individuals get moved about much moreso than others, and on the flip side of that, it's inevitable that there're those who get forgotten about due to their benign location / packaging.
The weight of supporting others can deform or even crush. Despite what may look fresh, spoilage can be therein. Neglect / assumptions often have consequences.
And finally, certain items effectively contaminate by simply being introduced and "leaving well enough alone".
It's all quite the complicated affair.
-------------------------
Years ago, we had dinner with one of my oldest friends (from my college days). I vividly recall helping myself to a beverage refill, and as such, couldn't help but notice the absolute filth within their refrigerator. It was unlike anything I'd seen prior. Even taking into account refrigerator filth (housemates) from my college days. I remember telling Angie during our drive home about my friend's disgusting refrigerator. Interestingly enough, the make model of their appliance was the exact same as ours, yet the contrast in cleanliness was striking. Yet, all of that dried gunk was being preserved just as the staples were thanks to the space BOTH were residing within. Hence, I suppose, this family saw no real reason to take the time to empty out the appliance and wipe down the interior in spite of its shocking state.
We've all heard of self-cleaning ovens. They're ovens that have programmed cycles which incinerate spilled / splattered gunk. Once the cleaning cycle is complete, all you're left with is ashes to sweep / vacuum out.
Refrigerators aren't like that because they're never turned off. Plus, their primary purpose is to maintain a set, slightly above freezing temperature.
I can remember hearing of college roommates inadvertently leaving a sizable bag of frozen shrimp behind (post spring semester) within their apartment freezer (above the refrigerator). Unbeknownst to them, the landlord cut the electricity to the apartment for a week or so over the summer sans checking the contents of the apartment-grade refrigerator / freezer. Obviously, this spelled the appliance's demise as the shellfish rotted away inside prior to being refrozen. Yuck.
-------------------------
Mississippians, overall, live here because of their families and their faith (plus the winters are relatively balmy). Otherwise, their choosing is simply rooted in dramatically lowest cost of living combined with ignorance. Overall, our state is shrinking; with each passing decade, individuals leave for greener pastures. I'm convinced this is partly the case due to the aforementioned emotional extremes that cannot be ignored here.
Kaka Ray talks an awful lot about finding / pursuing healthy ways to regulate the brain. If I'm understanding her correctly, she's referring to equalization (balance) between both the left and right hemispheres. To me, this speaks to giving equal weight to both the pragmatic and emotional makeup of ourselves. And the key word here is giving.
Kaka talks about technique to encourage this giving, and so often, she justifies those techniques within the framework of maturity.
And that's one of my most favorite words. (Certainly not one you hear often in Mississippi.)
So the question comes down to whether or not individuals who reside outside the boundaries of Mississippi are more mature than we are. I have to believe they are, and this draws many out of the Magnolia State in droves.
-------------------------
As far as I know, Bob & Darlene (my parents) have never kissed, held hands or hugged (based on my observation as their only child). Growing up amongst these kindhearted cardboard people was sterile to say the least. Nonetheless, there was little to no recourse needed for spilled milk / leaky egg cartons due to the fact that there were none available to choose from. Overall, other than one lone box of baking soda, the SHARED familial refrigerator remained empty. As such, we did each have our own minifridges to work with (for survival).
My upbringing was as independent from my parents as it - within reason - could be. Interaction was polite and respectful as if at any moment circumstances might change for the worse for one of us.
Have you ever seen the film Reservoir Dogs? From what I remember (I screened it decades ago), it's a heist / hostage flick, carried out by a group of white men, none of which know anything substantial (real) about the other. And this includes each other's names. This emotional detachment is supposed to work in their favor relative to the risks they face as they carry out their gruesome, terrorizing crimes.
The Islamic terrorists who carried out 9/11 had to have used similar techniques of loyalty derived from this notion of austere independence.
It's weird looking back on my growing up years relative to this, but I simply didn't know any better. It wasn't like I had anything substantial to complain about, though as I matured into a man, there was no doubt that something was terribly off.
-------------------------
It's ironic to admit to this, but my aforementioned friend (with the nasty refrigerator) and his wife put little to no value on regulation. They're no doubt poster children for typical white Mississippians. And I harbor no ill will / bias against them as such, but I do pity them. For I believe (& have seen firsthand) there's so many poor choices / missed opportunities / misaligned priorities as a result. Again, signposts / litmus tests are to be effectively accounted for and respected.
Here in Mississippi, you truly are within a bit of an inbred disregulated environment where gossip reigns supreme.
Bless our hearts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)