Phew!

Phew!

When we were teenagers, our plan was to “leapfrog”.  He was going to make a certain amount of money, and then I would have to do whatever I could to find a job that made more money.  Then we would reverse and repeat.

I finished university in 2010.  The job market was BLEAK.  He worked in the trades, and I had a philosophy degree.  Naturally, I worked in retail, and made no where near what he did.  He continued to move up in his position, and so did I, but I could never catch him. Throughout the years, this was the number one excuse he used to harm me.

Things have improved since then, though I still don’t make as much money as he did.  Recently, I wondered what would have happened if I had “leapfrogged” like he’d wanted me to.  Then I remembered a story.

About 10-12 years ago I applied to work for the RCMP.

(Don’t judge me man, I was young and desperate. I also had some romantic notion that I could help SA survivors as a detective. Knowing what I know now about the institution, I am VERY glad it didn’t work out for me )

He was furious with me for applying; he said he hated cops, but I think he hated the idea of me having authority (and access to a weapon) more.

Then he let his plans slip.  He told me if I became an RCMP officer, he would wait until I made excellent money and then leave me.  Then he would cash in on the spousal support and take money from me forever.

So sorry that didn’t work out you, brah.  I hope the woman you’re with now leaves you and takes every cent you have.

I was not allowed to be better than him at anything. Except household tasks that he didn't want to do, of course.

I'll give you a silly example. I worked in service all the way through university and in my early 20s. I used a cash register often, and I got quick at counting money.

When we were doing our finances, sometimes we would pay cash for things.  He would lay money out on the floor like a child and count everything.  Then he would ask me to check his count.  I would flip through 20s in an 8th of the time it took him to count them.  I did this every day; of course I was fast at it.

The world ended if I found he had made a mistake, but he didn’t trust my counting at that speed, even when I confirmed his results. He made me count bills at the same speed he counted them.  My 4 year old cousin could keep up.

It sounds so silly, but he mocked my skills and capitalistic “worth” so often that not having his confidence in THIS, even, was frustrating and soul crushing.

The air around me is lighter without his presence.

Still finding new ones nearly 5 years later!

bitches hate when other people are in the kitchen because they’ve spent their entire lives being criticized for doing tasks imperfectly and having their eating habits policed and now have incredible anxiety about other people judging their cooking choices that can’t be easily explained in a few words as to why they’re acting so hostile about someone else being near them during this very vulnerable process. it’s me, i’m bitches

I'm feeling it tonight. This shit is a bitch.

You know that feeling where you're eyes are burning, and you can't focus on anything because you're so exhausted, but your body is wired and so pumped up with cortisol and dread that you can barely sit let alone actually sleep?

I felt like that for 10 years straight.

Being sick is an Excuse: Episode Seven

I hurt my shoulder at the gym today. The pain is bad enough that I'm feeling nauseous.

My partner went to get me muscle relaxers, and I'm in the shower filled with doubt. Is the pain really that bad or am i making it up.

Imagine questioning the existence of your own pain while feeling pain.

If that doesn't sum up your brain after abuse I don't know what would.

Oopsie.

You know when you know something is a bad idea, but you do it anyways?

Have any of you figured out how to curb that yet?