Do Spill the Beans

Up and down and up and down.

Happy and sad and happy and sad.

Trying to keep busy by deciding what to take and what not to take,

What will fit and what will not fit into my new itsy, bitsy house.

My telephone – quiet as a mouse

I’ve always hated November and I think this one is going to be a whopper.  Friends that I thought were friends actually were not but yet then I get these people popping into view every once in a while that wave and say an encouraging word to me.  Relatives that are outside of the immediate family are either totally ignoring the situation or really don’t care.  Worse yet, they are probably listening to the immediate family about how horrible I am and what horrible things that I have done.  What are those horrible things?  That I said I was not going to go along with the dysfunction?  If that is the worst thing that I do in my life then I will be happy.

I hope it pleases my family to realize that I am very very sad.  That I don’t understand why this is like a pack of wolves jumping on the one injured wolf.  That I don’t want to live by myself in Maine but that I have to and that one of the supporters that I have is my husband who I am leaving.  Why is this?  Why is he one of the people that is telling me that I have to get away from this crazy unit and the lies that they are spreading about me?  Is everyone so afraid to go against the group that they don’t even think that I would like a hug goodbye or even a phone call to say that they will notice an absence?

This world could use some correcting and not just correcting of the global climate sort.  Because the world has so many ecological problems does not mean that I am going to add to them.  I think this same thing should be with the personal problems.  I now have a hint how it must feel to be one of the people trying to get warm on the new York city street vents.

I know that I am preaching to the choir here but I do take comfort in the fact that I’m not the only one that this is happening to and the fact that are thousands that have gotten through the pain of it.  Google it (ah, that wonderful Google)  Go to the help forums of Narcissism and Scapegoats.  Read some of those stories.  All similar.  Unfortunately, not much research has been done on narcissism because narcissists don’t see that they are doing anything wrong.  Nor, do they have a conscience.  So, therefore, they certainly do not go to get help.  The most similar thing that you see is the help for the prey.  It is RUN.  There is nothing you can do except make it worse, and I can vouch for that.  If you try to bring it up to either the people or those that are friends with the people that are doing the abuse, the abuse gets worse.

As for that other problem which my Mother said was in my blog and which wasn’t (it happened to be in the town historical society newsletter where I wrote an article wittily describing the buildings on my block in the 50’s and the trouble I used to get into), a pedophile remains a pedophile.  In this case there were several children there, one of which has written about this incident well before me for a college paper.  So, I either just copied the paper, or lied well after that person or told the truth after that person did.  I was obviously not the one to make it up Mother.

But cheer up, I’ll be gone soon and will be writing, I hope of bigger and better things.  What hurts is that my Mother will always believe the person who is lying about me without even asking for my version first.  I can only believe it is because she dislikes me so for “spilling the beans”.

Lesson:  It hurts but don’t be a politician.  Do “spill the beans”.  Perhaps if the politicians and people in this world would open up a bit then this world will be a bit better, will have a few less wars and will spread the wealth so there is a bit less famine and maybe, less health problems.

Support

SUPPORT:

To sustain (a person, the mind, spirits, courage, etc.) under trial or affliction:

“They supported him throughout his ordeal.”
THIS is what my father raised me to do.  Although he was an alcoholic, he was a happy alcoholic and he was pretty much careful to drink when we children were not around.  It was an “adult” thing.  I suppose like sex was an “adult” thing.
I have thought of the word “support” many times during my life and, sometimes unfortunately for me, I have given my support to the wrong people or the wrong organization or causes sometimes and have lived to regret it but always, always when I see something happening that I believe is wrong to an animal or person I will give my support to that animal or person.  I WILL NOT turn my back because I am afraid of offending someone or getting injured.
What does this make me?  When you look at the world today how much support do you see being given?  You hear pleas of support from poor people, from disabled people, from the elderly.
You also hear how hard it is to make friends.  I never believed that.  You hear that blood is thicker than water.  I unfortunately never believed that either.  You hear how churches are sanctuaries, how hospitals are to cure the ill, how policemen are to help keep the peace, how attorneys are to work for the person who is paying for them, how friends will be friends forever and even though they drift apart, when they see each other again there may be a bit of awkwardness but they will still be friends.
It is hard to make friends, which I suppose is why they become close to begin with.  Family blood is only thicker than water depending on the family.  Churches are sanctuaries unless you are only going along with their beliefs and they are not afraid that they will get in trouble.  Hospitals are to cure the ill depending on the people that work there and if they follow the rules that they have been given and if the people needing care are telling the truth.  Policemen keep the peace as long as they are following their regulations and Attorneys will work for the person who pays them the most or who they are best friends with.  Friends are rarely friends forever.  They “move on”, they have other things to do and they, of course, don’t want to get involved with their so called friends’ troubles because they would like a smooth life also.
Because I am what my father taught me to be I find it extremely painful to learn these lessons.  Each lesson hits me like a ton of rocks as he was my favorite person.
Each lesson probably hit him the same way and since I am so like my father (only he didn’t have a computer), he probably had to talk to others to help him feel better.  I remember the people that he told me not to “hang around with” and that he would talk bad about to other adults.  So, a family member that tells me that my father would be embarrassed did not know my father very well.
I am finally coming to grips with this thing that happened, although I will probably never get over it.  I think that the hardest thing is that I knew my family was dysfunctional but I always hoped.  I hoped that they would some day love me and that someday they would understand me.
The death of your entire family at one time is difficult.  Not only did they die but everyone that believes in them and is friends with them has also died for me because one outcast or black sheep is not going to be believed.
I can only again thank my few friends for keeping me going, for giving me hope (and I do include God as a friend), for helping me think of the good things and for reaffirming that I am not insane because there are many people who are going through the same thing as I.
Noodles?