The Proverbial Shit-Show, round 678

"Danger Noodle Jr." (Timber Rattlesnake) Nothing like being greeted by nature when you least expect it.  Little Danger Noodle Jr. didn't seem to care I was there, and I had been by the fence a minute prior to he/she coming out.  You can see how small this noodle is in comparison to the Brown Thrasher to the right and up.  After I took a couple of photos he/she decided to exit stage left under the fence and Abelia shrubs.  Never, ever a dull moment here.  Too bad I didn't get a photo of the young copperhead who had placed him/herself between me and the only unlocked door. lol That's what I get for going out to investigate why the birds and squirrels were sounding the alarm  Most times... it's a hawk, but lately.... there's been vipers. ;p Par for the course when living in a house on a bluff.

The weekends are the worst.  Mr. Man wants to behave like a bachelor (and not meaning affairs or anything of the sort), making life stressful to a degree that most human beings would deem, immediately, unacceptable.  Every morning I wake to this shit-show, and every night it precedes my making a valiant but unsuccessful attempt at getting even the most bare minimum of restful sleep.  And there isn't a day this doesn't happen, but on the weekends... it can try even the most patient of people, the most forgiving.  Still, what IS it about men who play "The man game" and expect no repercussions for 'playing' with an unwilling party who wants absolutely nothing to do with a massive time-suck?  Beats the hell out of me.

We've all heard it in conversations, in movies, tv series, and almost every book imaginable, the mantra of most women, the anxious proclamation.... "You never talk to me!"  Real or not, that phrase and those like it have become the punchline for many a joke uttered, sourly, by embittered and egotistical men.  And somehow.... those guys think it makes them cool, manly, and somehow... in-charge.  What those men don't know, apparently, that when they decide to clam up and shut down (something that can happen to women as well), making it their main reaction to spark the fire of avoidance... that there is always another guy out there willing to listen.  And I mean... REALLY listen.

Sorry guys.. not all men are like you.

In my situation I face the gamut of tired actions from a worn out playbook used by too many men for too many years by those who are doomed to repeat what their fathers and grandfathers have done for centuries.  HINT: It never served those guys either.  For every man who becomes mute when their wife or GF etc starts to talk, for every guy who emotionally checks out and hears little, if anything, and for every fool who decided it was a good idea to just not actively listen or engage when their partner needs to talk.... there's a woman who understands one... simple... truth: There is always someone else to call, visit, and connect with.

At what point do guys ever get that they can and will be replaced by a man who is willing to be there, be respectful, be a gentleman, a good listener, a good friend, to show compassion, respect, and make their partner feel like they are somewhere on the upper portion of the totem pole, someone worth their time and attention?  Rhetorical question, of course, but one that bears repeating for obvious reasons.

When men become set in their ways, unbending, rigid to the point of destructive, they are embracing the idea that they don't have to change, that if harm is being done to another due to their actions or inactions.... they've chosen to embrace their ego over what's right, what's humane, what's kind and compassionate.  This is how monsters are born.

Experts say there are two types of infidelity----cheating/affairs, and indifference.  The latter of the two are said to be the most destructive, and... I agree with that.  So what the hell has that to do with me and my situation?  I know, I know... I end up walking the path of noncommittal statements that, while showing the point, lacks relevant detail.  Sorry about that.  I'm still a work in-progress when it comes to the whole trusting-others-with-my-truth thing.

So a glimpse into my truth, as much as I can manage... is to say that I DON'T do well with men who play games, are lead by their ego, who think that somehow the mantra of "Men are just hard-wired like that" are really rather empty individuals who, by their own definition, don't possess anything truly valuable to give to another human being.  Most would call this "Egocentric," a trait in which most of us grow out of by the time we reach 3-4 years of age.  Most men, however, never seem to progress past that.

I'm just glad the weekend is over, that I am here sitting alone in my home with no one to clam up, not participate, not give one word answers or grunts to anything I say... or any questions I ask.  What's the point of putting up with grief and anxiety when I'm basically left to, well, talk to myself?

Seriously.  What's the fucking point?

The Big Empty

"A Sweet, New World." I took this photo in 2018 of a juvenile Ruby-Throated hummingbird enjoying the nectar from Wendy's Wish Salvia.  A portion of the proceeds of the purchase of these plants go to the Make A Wish Foundation.

The photo above is a representation of the momentum, or lack thereof, of my now extremely stagnant life.  A new D850 and telephoto lens sits besides my trusty D500 in a cabinet, waiting for me to find the vibrance that once fueled my passion for photography.  The memory cards have photos of this Spring and Summer, and even with a new laptop with more storage I'm unable to get up (figuratively speaking) and download them so post-processing can bring those memories to life.  Life.  What DOES that weird mean anyway?

The health problems continue to reveal themselves, and the specialists continue to test and provide advice, and also medication that I HATE taking.  It just never seems to stop.  The foundation of feeling like shit (sounds like another blog entry, doesn't it?) seems to be, as they now think, from Disautonomia.  Meaning... my autonomic nervous system doesn't work quite right, which translates into an unpredictable daily routine of taking things one minute or hour at a time to assess what I can or cannot do, what has to be put off, and what must be struggled and pushed through.  No respite from this means my mind and body are worn completely down.  But every day I find a way to get up and do it all over again.

I feel angry and hurt.  I'm angry and hurt STILL by those few people in my past that told me, point blank... "It's psychosomatic," meaning... 'It's all in your head.'  Is there anything worse than being sick and having even one person, let alone more, decide they know more about my body than I do?  The validation did come when I was finally able to get health insurance.  Some of you know the story if you've been reading here a while, but for those who don't.... the validation is STILL coming.  But the hurt and anger at having my feeling sick, KNOWING there was something very wrong, thrown in my face and diminished by those who lack even the most minute amount of humanity or compassion.  It still hurts.

3 heart arrhythmias ablated a few years ago, diagnosis of SLE, SJogren's Syndrome, Autoimmune Hepatitis (NOT to be confused with the virus), Disautonomia, Pulmonary AVM.... A lifetime spent without insurance of funds to cover regular health care or seeing specialists lead me to where I am now.  But the insurance is in place, and I continue to wait for this all to be under control so I can LIVE again, to FEEL ALIVE again.  Still, there is that hurt, the pain I feel, the sadness as I remember the words of those who don't possess the capacity for seeing or feeling anything past 2" beyond their own skin.

One person claims to be a psychic, and while I don't doubt there are those who are gifted with a remarkable insight, this person couldn't have been more off than if she had said I'm a paper kite, and not a human.  The truly sad part is... she was paid.... by my boyfriend at the time... and he bought into her crap hook, line, and sinker.  Well, being a malignant narcissist meant he was overjoyed to believe HE was validated in thinking either I caused my own conditions, some of which I'd had since childhood (heart arrhythmias).  I wonder how people like that even sleep at night?

I was told by a therapist that the damage done to me by my ex wouldn't simply go away.  She made sure I understood it would never, ever go away, but she was also quite clear that I could learn to deal with it in a healthier way, rather than allow the memories of his cruelty to continue causing me harm.

I'm a work in progress.

Being kind to myself has to become a priority again.  I end up pouring so much of myself out for other that I leave little or nothing for myself, falling into exhaustion at the end of the day, even on the days when I can barely get out of bed.  And I still push myself to push ahead no matter what.  I don't have regrets about that, but I do understand that something has to give, and it's either me... or that which drains me.  I already know which has to give.

Men.  Well, MOST men, anyway... have a bad habit of flipping the switch to autopilot and going through the motions like a zombie, checked out and unaware of the destruction around them.  I've met only one man in my life who wasn't like this.  Those are some pretty bad odds, if you ask me, but I understand the dark reality as it is, all of it... just as it is.  MOST men are chronically checked-out.  T included.  T being my husband.

I've mostly experienced two extremes with men in my past relationships---checked out, or abusive.  currently, T is checked out and coasting on autopilot.  Yep.  He's emotionally lazy AF.  It's not any fun, it's not inspiring, it's not loving, and it's not kind.  I was told one that there are two types of infidelity---cheating, and indifference.  The latter is a lot worse than than the former, because the latter is something you just can't reach, cannot make sense of... it's cruelty you can't really address head-on or conquer.

This is going to have to be finished another time.  Exhaustion is setting in, and I can barely think....

Till next time.....