Raising Phil Donahue

I was just thinking about what a wonderful, thoughtful, sensitive son I raised. My period just started, and I didn't have anything to deal with that, so I sent him out to my car to get my emergency stash in the console. He said, "Sure," and didn't even make a face or nasty comment.

"You done something right, Mami!" I thought.

Then he came in with 2 tampons, grimacing, and said, "You didn't tell me they wouldn't be in the box." He handed them to me and WIPED. HIS. HANDS. On his jeans.

WTF? They're still in the wrapper! "It's not like these have been in my vagina!" I said.

"Please stop," he said.

"VAH-GI-NAAAAAA."

"VAGINAAAAAAA," I sang.

"Please. Stop."

"Clitoris, labia, VUUUUUULVAAAAA!"

Oh well, if I can't raise him to be a sensitive male, I'll settle for desensitizing him. He did point out that he didn't go wash his hands. It's true.

Gigi, Gigi, Gigi

Gigi is totally not mad at me. Of course, I didn't find this out until I wrote a dramatic break up letter. Awesome, huh? I'm sorta spent. I didn't realize how much the whole relationship angst was taking out of me until Gigi and I talked things out and found out how wires got crossed.

The thing is, I know better than to operate on assumptions. It's just that, in this case, the evidence seemed to support my assumption overwhelmingly, and the two trusted people I talked to about things agreed.

Anyway, I'm glad to have that issue behind me. It was making my ass really fat.

It doesn't change the other issues I have with Gigi, though. I'm going to stick with my original plan to not be so available when she's looking for someone to listen to her old familiar tales of woe. I tried it out over the weekend, and much to my delight, I found that when I turned a deaf ear to the negative talk, she found someone else who would listen.

Now I have to do something about this fat ass of mine.

Feeling Peaceful, but That Could Be the Vodka

I've made some decisions about Gigi, and I'm feeling much more settled. Thanks for reading and giving me your opinions! Thank you also to my friends and husband who have listened to me work this out and decide how to proceed.

I'm not going to confront Gigi. I am, however, no longer going to be available to listen to her problems. Every time we get together it becomes a therapy session, and I don't have any fun on my night out when she shows up anymore. I feel burdened and drained. That's on the nights I don't have to drive her home or watch her puke her guts out. I've contemplated just staying home to avoid her. I'm not doing that either. I'm just not going to listen to her replay the same old tapes every weekend. I've found my boundary, and I'm enforcing it.

If Gigi asks me about what will surely be a noticeable change in our relationship, I will tell her exactly what I am feeling. I'll say, "Because giving you my honest feedback makes me a target of your anger, I no longer want to listen to your problems. Being ignored for a week and a half because I said something you didn't like, even though it was true and not intended to hurt you in any way, feels really crummy, and I'm not putting myself through that anymore. I still care about you, and I wish you the best and hope you will find happiness in your life, but I can no longer be there for you in the way I have been in the past."

If telling her that means we can no longer be friends, so be it. Our relationship has been hurting me for a long time, and frankly, I'll be better off. She's a sweet person, but her baggage has become too heavy for me to help carry. It's hurting me and making me less available for my kids, my husband, and my other friends.

Not an easy thing to do, but I'm glad it's resolved in my mind. I've been such a bitch all week to my family because I've been so stressed out about it. Not cool.

Of course, Gigi is still not talking to me. Maybe this time she'll stay mad and I won't have to say anything at all.

Brrrr!

Gigi is still giving me the cold shoulder, but not willing to admit she's mad at me. The irony of the situation is I've listened countless times to her complaining about people who have done exactly the same thing to her. Oh, well. I wrote her an email (but didn't hit send) that would effectively end our friendship, but I realized my doing so was a knee jerk reaction to her being angry at me, and that's not how I want to handle things.

Dear Gigi,

I need to change the terms of our friendship. I know you never asked me to put myself in the position I am in, but I've seen how unhappy you've
been for years now, and I've, not always consciously, tried to rescue you. That is completely inappropriate and unhealthy for both of us, and in some cases
has probably made things even worse for you.

Your anger (at your family, at Mack, at the people you don't like at the bar, at the universe) is affecting me negatively, so I've found myself lately trying to point out something positive you might take out of different situations or see the motives others might have for disappointing you that have nothing to do with a desire to hurt you, but those attempts only seem to make you angry with me, and that hurts me.

I don't know what you are looking for or expecting from me anymore, and my own broken parts want desperately to not disappoint you, but in order to be true to myself I have to be honest and that honesty seems to create a response in you that looks very much like disappointment. I'm extremely sensitive to that and tying myself in knots over it, so my only choice is to continue to be honest and tell you how I'm feeling or to quietly create some distance between us because I can't continue on this current path. Neither choice is at all attractive to me. Still, I have to choose one because harboring these feelings without addressing them is making me quite unhappy myself.

I realize that in saying this I've put myself in the category of just another one of the people who has hurt you and let you down. That is that last thing I would ever want to do, and it's why I have stayed silent for so long. So, if you've noticed some of that distance, I'm sorry. I've never wanted to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me.

I decided not to create extra drama by sending the email. I'm just not going to be the same soundboard for all of her issues that I've been in the past. If she decides to talk to me again, I'll listen, but she'll find me changing the subject when she starts playing all of the same old tapes. She'll also find I'm not as available to talk as I've been in the past.

I feel like a shithead, but it seems like the best thing I can do for myself right now.

Letting Go of Crazy

Why do people tell me their problems if they don't want to hear my honest feedback? I have some friends who value honesty and want to hear what I think even if it's I think you're overreacting and need to take a step back, or I think you're making a really big mistake. I love people who are honest with me in return, as long as those criticisms or observations are given in a non-threatening way from someone I know has my best interest at heart.

I just pissed a good friend off, though. I guess I should have just listened, said, "Yeah, your family sucks," and let it stand there. The problem is this friend has become very negative and angry, and I can see it is impacting her whole life. She is quick to see the worst in almost everyone she encounters and harbors anger for people over things that happened years ago, red hot seething anger that is eating her up. I spoke up for someone who had angered her stating that I could understand why they reacted the way they did, and that I would probably do the same, and I guess that was the wrong answer.

This particular friend really has me tied up in knots lately.

When I find myself tied up in knots I ask myself why? What is it I need to change in myself?

The answer is, I need to stop trying to be this person's savior. And yes, for those who are wondering, this person is Gigi. She draws me in by crying to me, telling me how she has no support system, how disappointed with her life she feels, how alone she is, and I want to swoop in and fix everything so I can just be super awesome!

But if I tell her the truth. If I tell her maybe she needs to figure out how to stop being so pissed off all the time, how maybe she needs to give up all of her expectations, how maybe she needs to make better choices for herself and not take it so personally every time someone tries to make the best choice for themselves, I become the shithead. It's a fucked-up codependent relationship, and I didn't think I did those, but it looks like I do.

So I'm asking myself questions. What do I get out of this relationship? I get to feel wise. I get to feel like the one who has it most together. I get to redeem myself from those other relationships where I was dumped for not being a good enough friend. (And thank God I was dumped or I'd be in another big fucking mess!) That last one is the answer. I need to be better than that other friend. Gigi picked me over her. She fucked both of us up, and I need to be better than that. (Sorry, it's a very specific episode and I can't share the whole convoluted story right now.)

I've decided to stop offering Gigi advice. I'm going to create a little distance between us too because I'm not ready to do what I probably should, which is be honest about my feelings and tell her that her angry energy is having a negative impact on me, and I need to end our friendship, or at least change the terms. I need to remind myself that it is not my job to save her. I've tried to be there for her over the years. I've done my best. Now I have to realize that only she can save herself.

Update: Just read an article that fits in with the lesson I'm learning from this experience and a couple of others in the recent past. Love-Fu: The Martial Art Of Dealing With A Very Challenging Person

Smartass!

Me: I'm feeling really tired. It must be because of my period.

Son: Maybe next time you should have an exclamation point.

Razors and Rage Don't Mix

I think Allegra works pretty well for my allergies, but it makes me cranky as fucking hell! I've been feeling rage and fury all day long. I tried to unload on my family this morning, but they just shrugged and went about their business. When the hell did everyone around here become immune to my rage and fury?

I waited all day to unload on my husband, but decided against it. He'd probably suggest medication or a cocktail, anyway. It's easier than dealing with the shit that pisses me off. (Seriously, I'm not usually such a pissed off person. It's the allergy meds, I'm tellin' ya!)

Instead of talking things out with my husband I decided to take a nice relaxing bath while taking care of a few personal hygiene issues. While I was shaving my legs, I noticed my razor was pretty dull. I figured I'd just deal with it and change the blade next time, but  then I gouged myself and started bleeding.

Still having several areas needing shaving, I decided to change the blade midstream. I hopped out of the tub, dripping water and blood and opened the cupboard to grab a new blade. Naturally, I couldn't find one, which infuriated me because I know I just bought some!

I did, however, find fifty sticks of used up deodorant. Why am I the only one, for fuck's sake, who can throw away an empty stick of deodorant, or change the toilet paper roll, or put a fresh garbage bag in the can? Why? And why am I the only one around here who can ever find anything, and yet I CAN'T find my fucking razor blades?

Determined to find them, I started pulling crap out of the cupboard, and while I was doing that I dropped my very expensive jar of moisturizer which cracked. Sweet. When I looked down at the cracked jar I noticed that quite an impressive puddle of blood and water had accumulated under my feet.

I decided relaxing tub time was over and went and rinsed off. I put on my bathrobe and came directly here so I could fume at the computer. Now my husband is calling me, and I think I have to go explain the puddle of blood in the bathroom that I failed to clean up. I'm pretty sure leaving it there was a subconscious cry for help. Next time I think I'll just unload on him when he gets home from work. It would have been less painful for both of us.  Also, I think a cocktail is in order.