Relationship Stupidity Disease… Do We Have a Drug For That?

 

I’ve been enjoying my new relationship. And being a completely disgusting loveydovey couple with the Luke Wilson look-a-like. But when moving forward, sometimes you have to look back at your past just a bit…

 

Relationship stupidity should be an actual disease. I mean, if we’ve gotten to the point in America to call obesity a disease, why can’t we do it for those that let themselves become verbally, mentally, and physically abused all for the sake of a relationship? I may be on the right track now with much soul-searching, self-improvement, and self-study, but I WAS an absolute mess… with no clue how to get out. Some call that growing up. I call it the Evil Ex fiance and the nightmare years.

 

The other day I was going through boxes of stuff in my guest bedroom… things I hadn’t opened in many years. I came across a letter about 10 years old. I remember that back then I liked to write things out before discussing them (you know, before you could write out and rewrite a text message before pressing SEND).

This is not my hand. For one it is not chocolatey. And… my fingernails and polish are so much more awesomer 😛

 

The conversation that I needed to have with the Evil Ex shows just how naive, mentally abused, and under his control I was.

 

Here in all it’s cringeworthy glory:

 

“Evil Ex,

I have no clue as to why you are upset with me. Why you decided that you couldn’t even sleep in the same bed with me. What did I do last night to piss you off? I was a little drunk, but I don’t remember saying or doing anything. All I was trying to do is what you wanted. You’ve kept saying that you wished I would drink because I’m more fun when I’m drunk. But still it seems I did something wrong. Every time I try to do what you want, I do it wrong by your standards, or you change your mind about what you wanted. I am constantly trying to live up to your expectations, your ideals, but I keep coming up short. And then you can’t talk to me, look at me, because I’ve hurt or pissed you off in some way. But when you hurt me, somehow I always end up comforting you because you feel bad. If I mess up, you close yourself off from me like I make you sick.

Is this how it’s going to be? Someone constantly telling me I’m not good enough… oh excuse me, not being the best YOU know I can be> Tell me this: do you ever comfort me when I’m hurt? Or do you just turn it around and say that you’re hurting more than me. You want control. To dominate someone. I just want to love and be loved. Can’t we see eye to eye on anything? Can’t you just love me?”

 

*gagging sounds*

 

There are days I want to go back and slap myself into an alternate reality. And other days all I can do is thank the heavens at how far I’ve come. But the mental/emotional abuse I received from the so-called man who would make me write such a childish crazy letter… well, this letter was just a drop in the bucket of crazy, and not my fun natural crazy. He preyed on my insecurities, my youth (Evil Ex was old enough to be my father), my introverted-ness, my want of a relationship, companionship. He used my secrets against me instead of holding them as a gift that I shared with him. He took my issues with women from a childhood molestation and tried to live out his fantasies and fetishes as a way for me to “let go of the past”. He took my beliefs, ideas, and personal studies on submissiveness and what it meant to me, and twisted it into having complete control over what I wore, who I talked to, the decisions I made, my life. And he took my ongoing depression and exploited me and my feelings and my sanity until my family didn’t recognize me.

 

Do I blame him for everything? No, I actively pursued him and ignored all the warning signs. I was still learning what a real relationship should be like and thought he would work because he wasn’t the “type” I had in the past. But those rose-tinted glasses of like/love/lust had me to the point of cutting myself to escape the pain of dealing with a twisted relationship. And I couldn’t figure out how to get out. I couldn’t just break up with him, he’d sit in my parking lot, constantly calling until I talked to him… and accepted him back. Somehow that behavior made me believe he truly loved me. Until the cycle of “you must do what I say to make me happy” began again.

 

So…. I ran. I had a job related offer/excuse and I took it and ran. I knew that if I stayed in the same vicinity I might let weakness and loneliness keep those rose-tinted glasses on my visage of what was really real.

 

Now, I use my experience to talk to friends/ acquaintances that may be headed for, or have experienced the same thing if I can. And I’ve been pretty good at running the other way from any men that give me the vibe of the Evil Ex. I dodged a bullet in more ways than one. No lasting damage really… except the scars to my soul. But hey, you haven’t really lived until you have battle scars to prove what you’ve survived.

 

I threw the letter away. I don’t need it to remember where I will never let myself go again.

 

Screw You Guys, I Quit!… Crap, the Military Doesn’t Work That Way

Whine mode is engaged. I repeat, warning, whine mode is engaged.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, or smoking rocks, everyone affiliated with the government has been having a pretty rough time of it. Even little old dimensionthe5th. And it feels like the last straw when it comes to my military service.

I want out.

But… you see, like The Godfather, it isn’t that easy. After 10 years had passed, I signed my life away 10 more. And I’m over 5 years away from that. There is the 15 year retirement option, but that’s only open to select people. So far, I’m not one of them.

But I just can’t deal with the bullspit anymore. Or I can, but I think it may send me back to mental health, pffft.

See, there’s the government that’s been playing around with our money and livelihood for the past few year. I’m tired of every year having to wait on pins and needles to see if this “We can’t run the government so we’re going to make YOU, every last service member and DoD Civilian, deal with it.” I can’t stand politics, and I don’t care if you are a republican, democrat, or independent. When it all boils down to it, I signed my life away. Agreed? But at the same time, I signed my life away with the expectation that I have a pay check that cannot be fracked with.

I’m tired. One of the reasons I joined the military was to travel the world and not get stuck like so many family members in Nowheresville, USA. I was a military brat, and used to moving around. But… I’m tired. I still want to travel, but I want to hop on a flight, be gone a few days at the most, and come the frack back home. I love the area I moved to. It happens to be the same place I said I would always retire. But with so many years in the military left, they’ll probably move me again. I don’t wanna! I seriously don’t want to. They’ll probably send me overseas again. And my monster teen probably will have to switch high schools in his senior year.

What’s the other bee in my stylish bonnet? Office politics. You say, DT5, office politics are everywhere. And I will tell you from having worked civilian jobs before joining the military, from hearing stories from others, military/government office politics is another animal. Maybe it’s no worse, but I am frustrated with it. Just today, having a conversation with my supervisor, I was told that he tried to put my name up for a course, but his supervisor, without looking at what I’ve accomplished, what positions I’ve held in the past, just automatically dismissed the idea because I didn’t have the right rank.

Rank gets you a lot in the military. You can barely know how to tie your shoes on a good day, but if you kissed the right butt, had someone write your evaluations, plumping everything you really didn’t do, you will get promoted. And… you will get this big *ss award at your end of tour. Now, this doesn’t matter if you have less time and experience than Joe Blow standing right beside you. If you outrank Blow, Blow pretty much blows you.

My body is tired. My health is just slowly losing the battle with the military. If I have no choice and DO make it to 20 years, my body is going to be a complete mess. The back problems that refuse to go away, that I work through each day so I can continue to work out. My medical condition, Hidradenitis Suppurativa, that is definitely NOT the kind of disease you want for a military job. Disease is aggravated by heat and stress? Oh yeah, let’s go run around in the desert with a whole bunch of gear and weapons!!! There’s my knees which I know one day is just going to finally give out on me just like my feet did long ago, and then I’ll have 2 permanent profiles stating what I can’t do for physical training. Maybe then they’ll want to kick me out. As long as I get some partial retirement or medical or something.

I probably sound whiny. I feel whiny. I feel extremely whiny after being completely sick but continuing to work because our civilians were stuck at home twiddling their thumbs in frustration. I feel whiny whenever I have to see another email about being a service member and that SOME people who are never named are not living up to their military values. I’m tired of doing my job everyday, and taking other jobs on because I love to work, to be told “Well, all that’s good, but you need to take more college courses to stand out.” I have fun, but I’m tired of rolling around in the dirt unless for some godforsaken reason I WANT to roll around in the dirt. I’m tired of having no control over where I will be sent in 2-3 years. And the thing that sticks in my throat so badly is that… I chose this. And for over 10 years no matter what I’ve accepted my choice and stood by it.

Maybe I just need a glass of wine.