The practice

A lil’ salt, a lotta pepper …

Santa in August?

The Fed Ex truck passed by this morning and I got all anticipatory like a kid who’d just spotted Santa on Christmas Eve.

So like that kid with face not quite pressed to the window, I stood waiting and waiting in the event he’d pause on the way back down the hill.

He didn’t; in fact, he didn’t pass again at all.

Why the excitement over the Fed Ex truck? Because I aspire to be a Fed Ex driver? Because the driver’s a creature of beauty and charm? No.

It’s because my new MacBook Pro is due to arrive any day! Today’d be the soonest. I’ve already patiently waited years for this upgrade. What’s another day or two or three? Still, super ready and excited!

{And aware of the heaps o’ work the migration from a Powerbook with a PPC processor to a Pro with Intel chip will entail. I’ve prepared myself with research and homework so feel up to the task, closeted geek that I am. Still, a complicated, challenging migration to be sure.}

Tick tick tick tick tick

So goes the clock at the house a day after the roommate dumped my homemade hummingbird solution, apologized most insincerely, shouted verbal assaults, pushed me and stormed off.

Man, when simplified, sure makes her look bad.

That tick tick tick is the sound of the tension in the house. The sound of possibly another impending explosion from J.

{btw, reason I don’t write her first name that’s four letters and rhymes with Rudy is because I want to take NO chance of her stumbling upon my blog. Ever. Oh the hell that’d unleash in the house!}

Where was I? Tick tick tick. The sound of another possible explosion from “Rudy with a J.”

She won’t admit she overstepped the boundaries of respect, common courtesy and roommate decency. Won’t admit she was in the wrong in dumping my hummingbird solution. Won’t admit she was in the wrong pushing me and being truly an arrogant loud self-interested bitch from start to finish.

Thank god I’m looking for neither apology nor change from her! Life taught me well: One cannot make another change.

Too, tick tick tick goes the clock in my time remaining in this house.

“Rudy” and I have butted heads before. That’s misleading. It should read: “I’ve stood up to her gross and over-the-top controls before and got kneecapped and in the identical manner: with loud shouting argumentative dictator commands and ZERO listening, regard or respect.”

It’s who she is; it’s how she chooses to respond to issues.

This time, it’s different. There’s no resolution. No “sitting down and working it out by healthy communication.” HA!

No “reconciliation” — however superficial and shallow and designed to ward off warfare it be. Because living with “Rudy” means warfare or submission. No gray area. No in-between. Two extremes, all or nothing.

There is “Rudy” in anger running the house. There is me in my corner. Invisible — or trying to be — to preserve my life. “Maybe if I’m REAL quiet … REAL still … maybe if I don’t move … if I don’t breathe … they won’t notice me. And the attacks will stop. The assaults. The pain and the agony of isolation.”

No better could I describe my childhood. Boom! Right there.

I understand that this (home) situation is a re-enactment of my childhood. J. is playing the role — a character from my childhood — well.

My mission that I accept is to keep saying my affirmations.

“I thank J. for her part in my healing and transformation. I love and bless and forgive J. I let it all go. I love and bless and forgive myself. I go free in peace.”

It’s easy and tempting to get stuck in brooding. Isolated brooding, which is even worse.

It’s “easy” because it’s familiar. Practiced behaviors and responses to warfare and world crashing down around me every moment through childhood.

Change can be hard, even when it’s desired and you know necessary.

My mission now, as J. directs or potentially unleashes her negativity and anger upon me WHO DID NOTHING WRONG {highlight, bold, neon lights} … as J. abdicates all responsibility and makes ME the problem … is to:

a. breathe
b. embrace and be grateful for the teaching and the healing and the freedom this is leading me to, long as I accept this as a teaching it is;
c. forgive. forgive and then forgive again;
d. love myself. and if I can’t put it in those words or accept love of self, then begin with being kind to myself. kind, gentle and forgiving. it’s a start and step up from where I’ve been.


e. look for a new place to live. keep looking even if it appears hopeless (i.e., “there are no rooms, no leads, no openings” … which for me can lead to “no chance, no hope, it’s all futile, I’m stuck here, I hate it here, my life is shit, I’m shit just like my mother said, what’s the point of anything, what’s the point of living …”

Old refrain.

Time for a new song! And that’s not only possible but doable thanks to being in, finally!, the right place/town/state!

I began this post thinking it’d be a series of blurbs. Apparently I had more to say than I thought. Anyhow, it’s all good and for me helpful to write and capture these moments live.

Someday soon I won’t be living in this house with “Rudy.” And I’ll want to look back on this chapter with fond memories.

I’m lyin’ through my teeth. 😉


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