Have you ever done it? Taken a cat out of a bag, I mean. Heck, have you ever got one IN a bag?
I haven't. So, I'm just imagining what it would entail and what the consequences might be. I do have an active and vivid imagination, though! So, I'm thinking that one who would be so brave... or foolish as to put a cat in a bag would sustain numerous wounds regardless of the outcome of the endeavor. IF such an one were successful, I would imagine that said person would rather let the cat stay where it was than deal with trying to get it out again.
This is where you find me.
I got the cat in the bag and have been loathe to get it out or even let it get out. But it's coming.
Just know that I DO, in fact, KNOW that lots of other women have faced this same challenge. I'm sure with more grace than me! I mentioned a girl a while back... I'm going to share more about her in a while. Anyway... She coule be my twin. She is not, actually, but we're so similar she could be! Anyway... she, just as one example, is dealing with the problem I'm trying to share in this post, too. It's just difficult! I guess a bit like stepping into the sun after a confinement in the dark and cold. It's eventually a gift and relief to be in the sun, but it's a bit miserable and painful right at the beginning.
So, I was trying to get rid of the internet at our house because I found my husband watching porn. I realize there are lots of folks (guys AND girls) who would scoff or mock me for the pain this discovery has caused. But like all doozies, this is a multi-faceted gem of darkness.
Before I explain further, I have to tell you aobut some really religious sort of spiritual stuff. I haven't written about that part of me so much here because I don't want to "turn anybody off" to reading my story. What I'm goint to share is absolutely pertinent to the story of my husband watching porn, finding him doing it, and all the resulting fallout for me.
For three or four months before I saw him looking at porn with my own eyes, I heard whispers to my mind that Beauty Man was doing it. I asked him, point blank, if he was. I even told him I heard (he KNOWS what this means) he was and asked again if he was. Each time he told me he was not, had not, did not... however he said it, he always said no.
Back up to the very beginning of us. That's been long enough, now, for us to have four children with the youngest being around 1 year old. I found him looking at porn way back in the beginning. I was a different person back then. It bothered me. It hurt my feelings some. I felt slightly mistrustful of him, but I believed him when he told me he would stop. I asked him to stop because it hurt my feelings.
Skip forward a few years.
He promised me that when we found out we were preggie, he would quit smoking. He did. But then, unbeknownst to me, he started up again. I knew it, though. I heard the whispers (not audible, but to my mind). I heard the Holy Spirit tell me what he was doing, but I would not believe. I didn't want to believe my husband was lying to me. I WAS told and warned, though. I asked him point blank, numerous times. He lied in reply. Repeatedly. And for years.
The truth didn't come out until he'd move me away from my parents and brothers. He'd lied to me for 3 years by then! And since? (I hear you wonder.) That's part of the huge problem in this FrankenMonster Marriage! He's NEVER completely stopped lying!!!! Not only has he lied, bu he's also stolen money from our family. He's still more in a habit of hiding the truth than TELLING the truth. It's very painful for me. Remember how honest, how truthful I like being?
The story isn't complete, but I really must take a break from the telling. I'll resume very soon. Promise.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
Bad News; and Worse
Pre-Post Note:
I think, if I can, I'm going to post Mondays AND Fridays. Monster Girl Mondays and FrankenMarriage Fridays. Sounds nice! :) Don't you think so? Anyway, thus today's post. I may post other days of the week, too, of course, but I'm not going to commit to that. Heck, I've only just been able to get two Mondays in a row! HA!
On to the Post!
My husband came home from work with bad news.
The cycle, it seems, is revving up for a repeat ride again. This is the bad news. The cycle is, of course, cyclical in nature. But I sure do wish the thing would get considerable bigger (last years rather than months!). In this stage of the cycle that we seem to be experiencing, the boss begins to become excessive in his expectations, demands, and eventually (sooner or later... usually sooner) fires Beauty Man.
He's not assertive enough. He doesn't stand up for himself vociferously enough. I know this absolutely because this is how he is with me, too.
I really thought it would be different this time. But I see the writing in the sand clear as day! I've seen it before in exactly this way. His boss has hired someone (hiring is supposed to be one of my husband's responsibilities) who will, supposedly work with Beauty Man. The boss is demanding certain planning forms to be set in place, though the plans he desires are not realistic... not in a kitchen with the staff relative to volume that this kitchen has, for sure!
As I ponder on the matter, I realize that he simply isn't changed enough for the cycle to be different. *sigh* So it goes.
Also, it usually happens this way... soon after my man does something really wrong and/or stupid and that wrong/stupid thing comes to light. I haven't always known his wrong-doing when he was fired... but it's there to view in the perfect vision of hindsight!
The Beauty Man's solution to this problem is to work from home on the internet doing a job he's heard about on the radio, but doesn't know whwat it actually is and doesn't know what (if any) investment it will require to get started. This suggestion is a HUGE problem for me for many reasons. ALL connected to deaths and especially the one(s) sustained most recently - over which the computer died and the internet was removed (or, at least, I was going to cancel it) by me against Beauty Man's desires. (Read: internet is a huge aspect of the problem I still haven't explained.)
I need to tell you about this most recent death... as well as all the others, really. But even in anonymity, it is SO difficult to come out of hiding. Next time. For sure.
I think, if I can, I'm going to post Mondays AND Fridays. Monster Girl Mondays and FrankenMarriage Fridays. Sounds nice! :) Don't you think so? Anyway, thus today's post. I may post other days of the week, too, of course, but I'm not going to commit to that. Heck, I've only just been able to get two Mondays in a row! HA!
On to the Post!
My husband came home from work with bad news.
The cycle, it seems, is revving up for a repeat ride again. This is the bad news. The cycle is, of course, cyclical in nature. But I sure do wish the thing would get considerable bigger (last years rather than months!). In this stage of the cycle that we seem to be experiencing, the boss begins to become excessive in his expectations, demands, and eventually (sooner or later... usually sooner) fires Beauty Man.
He's not assertive enough. He doesn't stand up for himself vociferously enough. I know this absolutely because this is how he is with me, too.
I really thought it would be different this time. But I see the writing in the sand clear as day! I've seen it before in exactly this way. His boss has hired someone (hiring is supposed to be one of my husband's responsibilities) who will, supposedly work with Beauty Man. The boss is demanding certain planning forms to be set in place, though the plans he desires are not realistic... not in a kitchen with the staff relative to volume that this kitchen has, for sure!
As I ponder on the matter, I realize that he simply isn't changed enough for the cycle to be different. *sigh* So it goes.
Also, it usually happens this way... soon after my man does something really wrong and/or stupid and that wrong/stupid thing comes to light. I haven't always known his wrong-doing when he was fired... but it's there to view in the perfect vision of hindsight!
The Beauty Man's solution to this problem is to work from home on the internet doing a job he's heard about on the radio, but doesn't know whwat it actually is and doesn't know what (if any) investment it will require to get started. This suggestion is a HUGE problem for me for many reasons. ALL connected to deaths and especially the one(s) sustained most recently - over which the computer died and the internet was removed (or, at least, I was going to cancel it) by me against Beauty Man's desires. (Read: internet is a huge aspect of the problem I still haven't explained.)
I need to tell you about this most recent death... as well as all the others, really. But even in anonymity, it is SO difficult to come out of hiding. Next time. For sure.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The Things I Do
Pre-Post Note:
YEAY! My second Monday in a row! Can you believe it? If you knew what I had going on in my head, you'd be cheerin' me on, for sure! :)
First and foremost, I am a Mom. I love being a Mom now. It's still the toughest job I've EVER had, but I do love it. I mentioned that I don't wear jewlery in a previous post. That's been the case for a while, but since I've had children, I have desired jewels less and less because I see my children as the adornment which beautifies me. They are almost always with me. And, as with other women who wear their jewelry, I feel a bit naked without them! :) Plus, I know somewhere in the Bible it says something about how children are like unto diamonds and a man who hath many is rich indeed. (I know I could look it up and link to the verse and/or get a direct quote, but I'm sharing it the way it's written on my heart: imperfection and all.)
My kiddos really are beauties. I say this as a matter of fact. I used to wish that when I had children only I would see them as beautiful. I definitely didn't get my wish. People comment on their beauty almost everywhere we go. Maybe you wonder why I would wish such a thing. It's silly maybe... but I wished it because I felt certain that if I was the only one who thought they were beautiful, then surely they'd be safe from predation or kidnapping. Stories like Elizabeth Smart's have had a tremendous impact on me... obviously!
So, my number 1 calling in this life is Motherhood. I do know that my husband should come first in my heart and life. I do recognize that I need to change my priorities back to the way they should be. They've shifted due to the multitude of deaths (my hopes and expectations)... I'm working on making it right... this man of mine definitely does NOT make that easy, though! Nor, I suppose, is he here to do so. I am, after-all, HIS helpmeet... not he mine. ahwell...
Unfortunately, I do have a work for money job. I place Foreign Exchange students in American families. It's a good job. Doens't pay much in money, but it's a good job for me. I like the work of it and it is the kind of job I'd do for free if I felt I had the time. I do NOT feel like I have the time, but do it because my husband wanted (still does) me to do something to help with the finances. I don't get paid as we go... it's a lump sum at the end of the students' stay... so it's a bit difficult, but it's income.
If I could make money at whatever I wanted to do, I would write and paint! I love to write. Can you tell? I also love to paint. My work in either art form is not of the high art sort. It's just a reflection or projection of me. And I've already shared THAT. I'm not the American ideal of beauty AND I've also shared details about HOW I'm not a beauty. So... the reflections and/or projections really aren't either.
Even though I don't make money (yet?) at writing or painting... I DO have a hope that some day I may. It could happen! Stranger things have, ya know. A girl... even a Monster Girl can hope, anyway, right?!!
I also like to crochet, read, learn, exercise, daydream, cook, and bake. Those last two I loved to do when I was young. But I lost the pleasure in it as I became an adult. Thanks to teaching and working with my eldest, I'm loving it again. The unfortunate part of that is the eating that comes after the baking and cooking. Obviously my explanation of how I look should easily reveal two things to you. 1: I have some severe problems with self-control. And 2: I like to eat.
Eating and/or food is said to be the addiction of choice among Christians. This is true for me, unfortunately. I have reduced my problems within this overarching problem by quitting chocolate. When I first quit, I really thought it would be a short-term thing... like for Lent or something. I've been off the stuff for almost 18 months now. I've definitely felt Led to keep away. MAJOR bummer if you ask me because I still think about it almost daily. Yes. I am a recovering chocoholic. I know people joke about it, but it's not a joke for me. It's an actual addiction from which I'm recovering. Seriously. And I think I'll be in recovery for the rest of my life... oh... this is the first time I'm really realizing that I probably cannot have chocolate again. Oh! The torture! *sigh*
YEAY! My second Monday in a row! Can you believe it? If you knew what I had going on in my head, you'd be cheerin' me on, for sure! :)
First and foremost, I am a Mom. I love being a Mom now. It's still the toughest job I've EVER had, but I do love it. I mentioned that I don't wear jewlery in a previous post. That's been the case for a while, but since I've had children, I have desired jewels less and less because I see my children as the adornment which beautifies me. They are almost always with me. And, as with other women who wear their jewelry, I feel a bit naked without them! :) Plus, I know somewhere in the Bible it says something about how children are like unto diamonds and a man who hath many is rich indeed. (I know I could look it up and link to the verse and/or get a direct quote, but I'm sharing it the way it's written on my heart: imperfection and all.)
My kiddos really are beauties. I say this as a matter of fact. I used to wish that when I had children only I would see them as beautiful. I definitely didn't get my wish. People comment on their beauty almost everywhere we go. Maybe you wonder why I would wish such a thing. It's silly maybe... but I wished it because I felt certain that if I was the only one who thought they were beautiful, then surely they'd be safe from predation or kidnapping. Stories like Elizabeth Smart's have had a tremendous impact on me... obviously!
So, my number 1 calling in this life is Motherhood. I do know that my husband should come first in my heart and life. I do recognize that I need to change my priorities back to the way they should be. They've shifted due to the multitude of deaths (my hopes and expectations)... I'm working on making it right... this man of mine definitely does NOT make that easy, though! Nor, I suppose, is he here to do so. I am, after-all, HIS helpmeet... not he mine. ahwell...
Unfortunately, I do have a work for money job. I place Foreign Exchange students in American families. It's a good job. Doens't pay much in money, but it's a good job for me. I like the work of it and it is the kind of job I'd do for free if I felt I had the time. I do NOT feel like I have the time, but do it because my husband wanted (still does) me to do something to help with the finances. I don't get paid as we go... it's a lump sum at the end of the students' stay... so it's a bit difficult, but it's income.
If I could make money at whatever I wanted to do, I would write and paint! I love to write. Can you tell? I also love to paint. My work in either art form is not of the high art sort. It's just a reflection or projection of me. And I've already shared THAT. I'm not the American ideal of beauty AND I've also shared details about HOW I'm not a beauty. So... the reflections and/or projections really aren't either.
Even though I don't make money (yet?) at writing or painting... I DO have a hope that some day I may. It could happen! Stranger things have, ya know. A girl... even a Monster Girl can hope, anyway, right?!!
I also like to crochet, read, learn, exercise, daydream, cook, and bake. Those last two I loved to do when I was young. But I lost the pleasure in it as I became an adult. Thanks to teaching and working with my eldest, I'm loving it again. The unfortunate part of that is the eating that comes after the baking and cooking. Obviously my explanation of how I look should easily reveal two things to you. 1: I have some severe problems with self-control. And 2: I like to eat.
Eating and/or food is said to be the addiction of choice among Christians. This is true for me, unfortunately. I have reduced my problems within this overarching problem by quitting chocolate. When I first quit, I really thought it would be a short-term thing... like for Lent or something. I've been off the stuff for almost 18 months now. I've definitely felt Led to keep away. MAJOR bummer if you ask me because I still think about it almost daily. Yes. I am a recovering chocoholic. I know people joke about it, but it's not a joke for me. It's an actual addiction from which I'm recovering. Seriously. And I think I'll be in recovery for the rest of my life... oh... this is the first time I'm really realizing that I probably cannot have chocolate again. Oh! The torture! *sigh*
Monday, February 13, 2012
The Man... My Man... Beauty Man
Pre-Post Note:
I'm getting better... And today is a Monday, too! :)
So, I was thinking about what I'd like to know next if I was you. Maybe we're totally different, which is completely possible and even likely, in which case this post may be TOTALLY un-interesting to you. But if I were reading along here instead of writing, I'd want to know more about the guy I have been and will be talking about.
My husband. You already know we met online. It's been a few years now. Long enough for us to have four children, the youngest of whom is right around a year old.
He's a few years younger than me, but had done more in his life when we met than I could imagine. I figured that made up for the few years difference. Maybe. Maybe not.
He has light brown hair, green eyes, which are actually green and not hazel. He weighs around 150 pounds, stands just under 6 feet tall and IS as thin as that sounds. Once, he started to take on some weight. The main way I could tell is that his belly button became slightly more than just a depression in his belly region. There was actually a dip and enough of a depression to catch a good bunch of lint each day. Ha! The only time I can ever remember seeing the deepest part of my belly button is during the last month of pregnancy... and not even every one of those! HA!
My husband is handsome... really, actually... he is a beautiful man. This is where the name I use, Beauty Man, instead of his real one, comes from. He has a James Dean-ish* look. His nose (and I never really noticed noses, except for my own, before I met him) is perfectly straight, smooth, slightly slender, but not too narrow and makes me think of a "Roman Nose," though I've never been completely sure what THAT looks like! My husband had a nice "V" shaped bod when we met. Not now. Not that I'm bothered, really. Heck, I was a size 9 when we met and more like a 24now. Seriously. But he DID look GOOD with those well developed lats and pecs! :) He still looks good... but you know what I mean, right?
One thing I noticed and loved from REALLY early on is his crinkley-eyes. He was 20 when we met (turned 21 before we met in person). But even so, he had a whole bunch of crinkles right at the temples when he'd smile. I've always thought those smile-eye wrinkles were among his most beautiful physical features.
He's got skinny legs.
He's hairy, but not sweater-hairy. At least, not yet. ;) It seems, since we've met, the hair is multiplying and spreading at an exponentially increasing rate. He hasn't lost any off his head, so it's not migrating, but he has more now in the funny shaped patch above his butt, on the top of his upper arms, in and on his ears, and on hisshoulders than he ever did when we first met. Funny how that heppens, huh?
He's very strong. He doesn't look like he could lift as much as he can. He was still able to pick me up when I was 200 pounds. I won't let him try anymore. I bet he could, but I'm afraid it would hurt him.
He smokes. He is not a member of my church. He and I don't have many (if any) of the same interests or hobbies. I know many of our temporal goals aline, but I don't think our Spiritual goals mesh... if he has any of those at all.
He is a Chef. He was in the Navy when we met, got out and went to Culinary School. Now he's a Chef. He hates it. He hates the industry and the caliber of people he is most often in contact with as a result of his employ. He works way too many house for a little salary. Salary. It's rough. Thankfully he IS employed and THANKFULLY, he keeps doing it. He is, after-all, the primary breadwinner in this family! I hope one day, that the things I can do from home will supply all our needs and he'll be able to work 'cause he wants to, or go back to school, or work the businesses I'm trying to grow. A girl; even a Monster Girl, can dream, can't she?! :)
*James Dean Pictures that look like Beauty Man to me
Yes, Beauty Man does wear glasses, though his look a bit different than those in the picture. And, as I mentioned, he does smoke. :-p Beauty Man is aptly named, don't you think so?
I'm getting better... And today is a Monday, too! :)
So, I was thinking about what I'd like to know next if I was you. Maybe we're totally different, which is completely possible and even likely, in which case this post may be TOTALLY un-interesting to you. But if I were reading along here instead of writing, I'd want to know more about the guy I have been and will be talking about.
My husband. You already know we met online. It's been a few years now. Long enough for us to have four children, the youngest of whom is right around a year old.
He's a few years younger than me, but had done more in his life when we met than I could imagine. I figured that made up for the few years difference. Maybe. Maybe not.
He has light brown hair, green eyes, which are actually green and not hazel. He weighs around 150 pounds, stands just under 6 feet tall and IS as thin as that sounds. Once, he started to take on some weight. The main way I could tell is that his belly button became slightly more than just a depression in his belly region. There was actually a dip and enough of a depression to catch a good bunch of lint each day. Ha! The only time I can ever remember seeing the deepest part of my belly button is during the last month of pregnancy... and not even every one of those! HA!
My husband is handsome... really, actually... he is a beautiful man. This is where the name I use, Beauty Man, instead of his real one, comes from. He has a James Dean-ish* look. His nose (and I never really noticed noses, except for my own, before I met him) is perfectly straight, smooth, slightly slender, but not too narrow and makes me think of a "Roman Nose," though I've never been completely sure what THAT looks like! My husband had a nice "V" shaped bod when we met. Not now. Not that I'm bothered, really. Heck, I was a size 9 when we met and more like a 24now. Seriously. But he DID look GOOD with those well developed lats and pecs! :) He still looks good... but you know what I mean, right?
One thing I noticed and loved from REALLY early on is his crinkley-eyes. He was 20 when we met (turned 21 before we met in person). But even so, he had a whole bunch of crinkles right at the temples when he'd smile. I've always thought those smile-eye wrinkles were among his most beautiful physical features.
He's got skinny legs.
He's hairy, but not sweater-hairy. At least, not yet. ;) It seems, since we've met, the hair is multiplying and spreading at an exponentially increasing rate. He hasn't lost any off his head, so it's not migrating, but he has more now in the funny shaped patch above his butt, on the top of his upper arms, in and on his ears, and on hisshoulders than he ever did when we first met. Funny how that heppens, huh?
He's very strong. He doesn't look like he could lift as much as he can. He was still able to pick me up when I was 200 pounds. I won't let him try anymore. I bet he could, but I'm afraid it would hurt him.
He smokes. He is not a member of my church. He and I don't have many (if any) of the same interests or hobbies. I know many of our temporal goals aline, but I don't think our Spiritual goals mesh... if he has any of those at all.
He is a Chef. He was in the Navy when we met, got out and went to Culinary School. Now he's a Chef. He hates it. He hates the industry and the caliber of people he is most often in contact with as a result of his employ. He works way too many house for a little salary. Salary. It's rough. Thankfully he IS employed and THANKFULLY, he keeps doing it. He is, after-all, the primary breadwinner in this family! I hope one day, that the things I can do from home will supply all our needs and he'll be able to work 'cause he wants to, or go back to school, or work the businesses I'm trying to grow. A girl; even a Monster Girl, can dream, can't she?! :)
*James Dean Pictures that look like Beauty Man to me
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The Parable of the Window
Pre-Post Note:
YEAY! I'm posting a week later than my last one! YEAY for some all vitories. Okay, so it's not on the day I'm trying to do it regularly, but still. Baby steps ARE steps! :)
Last time I mentioned sharing with you a Parable I've written. I call it: The Parable of the Window, which you can see is the title. Obviously. :) Now, this Parable has to do with my Love Languages, my man, and how he does or does not speak my Love Languages. If you don't know anything about Love Languages. I encourage you to read the book entitled: The Five Love Languages. I've been reading a blogger I really like, so the link for that book will take you to her Amazon store. Every little bit help! I hope, if you're interested in that (or any book), you'll search for what you want through her store, which you can find by the links I've included and also on her BLOG. It is a really great blog! Of course, I may like it so much because she writes (and maybe thinks?) similarly to me. At least, that's how it seems by what she writes and how she expresses herself and the way she names things. I just think it's always fun to read from others who seem to be kindred spirits!
On to the Parable:
I am in an air-tight room. There is no ventilation ducting to this room. The door is sealed tight. There is one single window in this room. The seal around it, too, is airtight. Only one person has the ability to open the window. My Beauty Man, my husband.
When he opens the window, he allows fresh air to flood the room (my heart and life). He opens it by touching me lovingly, speaking to me kindly and encouragingly. He can open it by calling to say hi and tell me he was thinking about me while he's at work. He opens it when he rubs my feet or shoulders - especially when he does so without being asked. He opens that window when he gives me specific compliments about the things I'm trying to do, my appearance, something that he loves about a food item I've prepared. There are myriad ways he opens the window. But it is not held open permanently. Opening it requires effort on his part. When he stops making the effort to hold the window open, it falls closed and seals air-tight-shut again. Oftentimes, my man not only stops holding the window open, but also leaves the room entirely... shutting the door firmly on his departure.
Leaving the room is figurative because my husband hasn't physically left me in any permanent way. But every time we have a disagreement, he usually stomps off in a huff. This is one form "leaving the room" takes in our marriage. He also leaves the room when he refuses to have a conversation. Or when he refuses to answer a question and says, instead, "I don't know," or, "I don't remember." Clearly these are unacceptable answers.
And I am left alone. Initially, I often don't realize he's actually departed.... he sneaks out as often as he stomps out. I'm just so relieved to breath again... and he takes my state of distraction as his cover for walking away. When I realize he's gone, I usually (especially in the beginning), would just think something like, "Oh, he'll be back soon! He won't stay away long!"
But then he does. And I start to really miss the fresh air... I miss his presence and his effort. So, I start to knock on the door. I almost always start with soft knocks... trying to get his attention. Eventually it moves to louder and louder knocking and on to pounding on the door... just hoping to get my man's attention in hopes that he'll come visit my room and open the window.
The room IS air-tight, please remember, so eventually I start to feel difficulty breathing. My breath comes with greater and greater difficulty. I stop pounding on the door. Actually, I stop trying at all. It is at this point, at some stage of me sitting in a corner of my room (or lying in foetal position about to die of asphixiation) that my man comes in the room and opens the window. Almost every single time... I'm about to die in our marriage before he does anything about it. :(
You may wonder why I don't open the door myself. You might ask, "Does the door NOT have a knob on it?" Those are appropriate questions, I suppose. I hope, though, that you are not married if you ask them. If you are, perhaps you simply have a different idea of marriage than me. That is, of course, totally possible. For me, though... if I open that door, that means I'm looking for some outside source to affirm me in ways that ONLY my husband should be doing. And, honestly, I would rather die in my marriage than break my covenants, which I have made to my God and husband. So, I don't touch the knob, though there certainly IS one.
There have been lots of times when I've been sitting in the corner... at some stage of dying or about to die-ness that I look at the knob a lot and wonder what it would be like to turn it and go outside my little room. I know this is dangerous territory. I am working on NOT looking at or contemplating that knob when things are at their worst. Every once in a while, though, it has been kinda good that I looked... cause things actually do NOT look greener on the other side when I have. Not overall... there might be patches of greener... but not the whole lawn... at least... when I've tried to see without seeing. And since that's the closest I'm gunna go to checkin out that grass... well, I think THAT sort of knob-lookin' has done me good.
So, that's my Parable. Definitely NOT amazing and minimally put as The Master parable-teller's. But it's mine. :) Monster Girls can be pleased with their silly efforts, too... can't I?
YEAY! I'm posting a week later than my last one! YEAY for some all vitories. Okay, so it's not on the day I'm trying to do it regularly, but still. Baby steps ARE steps! :)
Last time I mentioned sharing with you a Parable I've written. I call it: The Parable of the Window, which you can see is the title. Obviously. :) Now, this Parable has to do with my Love Languages, my man, and how he does or does not speak my Love Languages. If you don't know anything about Love Languages. I encourage you to read the book entitled: The Five Love Languages. I've been reading a blogger I really like, so the link for that book will take you to her Amazon store. Every little bit help! I hope, if you're interested in that (or any book), you'll search for what you want through her store, which you can find by the links I've included and also on her BLOG. It is a really great blog! Of course, I may like it so much because she writes (and maybe thinks?) similarly to me. At least, that's how it seems by what she writes and how she expresses herself and the way she names things. I just think it's always fun to read from others who seem to be kindred spirits!
On to the Parable:
I am in an air-tight room. There is no ventilation ducting to this room. The door is sealed tight. There is one single window in this room. The seal around it, too, is airtight. Only one person has the ability to open the window. My Beauty Man, my husband.
When he opens the window, he allows fresh air to flood the room (my heart and life). He opens it by touching me lovingly, speaking to me kindly and encouragingly. He can open it by calling to say hi and tell me he was thinking about me while he's at work. He opens it when he rubs my feet or shoulders - especially when he does so without being asked. He opens that window when he gives me specific compliments about the things I'm trying to do, my appearance, something that he loves about a food item I've prepared. There are myriad ways he opens the window. But it is not held open permanently. Opening it requires effort on his part. When he stops making the effort to hold the window open, it falls closed and seals air-tight-shut again. Oftentimes, my man not only stops holding the window open, but also leaves the room entirely... shutting the door firmly on his departure.
Leaving the room is figurative because my husband hasn't physically left me in any permanent way. But every time we have a disagreement, he usually stomps off in a huff. This is one form "leaving the room" takes in our marriage. He also leaves the room when he refuses to have a conversation. Or when he refuses to answer a question and says, instead, "I don't know," or, "I don't remember." Clearly these are unacceptable answers.
And I am left alone. Initially, I often don't realize he's actually departed.... he sneaks out as often as he stomps out. I'm just so relieved to breath again... and he takes my state of distraction as his cover for walking away. When I realize he's gone, I usually (especially in the beginning), would just think something like, "Oh, he'll be back soon! He won't stay away long!"
But then he does. And I start to really miss the fresh air... I miss his presence and his effort. So, I start to knock on the door. I almost always start with soft knocks... trying to get his attention. Eventually it moves to louder and louder knocking and on to pounding on the door... just hoping to get my man's attention in hopes that he'll come visit my room and open the window.
The room IS air-tight, please remember, so eventually I start to feel difficulty breathing. My breath comes with greater and greater difficulty. I stop pounding on the door. Actually, I stop trying at all. It is at this point, at some stage of me sitting in a corner of my room (or lying in foetal position about to die of asphixiation) that my man comes in the room and opens the window. Almost every single time... I'm about to die in our marriage before he does anything about it. :(
You may wonder why I don't open the door myself. You might ask, "Does the door NOT have a knob on it?" Those are appropriate questions, I suppose. I hope, though, that you are not married if you ask them. If you are, perhaps you simply have a different idea of marriage than me. That is, of course, totally possible. For me, though... if I open that door, that means I'm looking for some outside source to affirm me in ways that ONLY my husband should be doing. And, honestly, I would rather die in my marriage than break my covenants, which I have made to my God and husband. So, I don't touch the knob, though there certainly IS one.
There have been lots of times when I've been sitting in the corner... at some stage of dying or about to die-ness that I look at the knob a lot and wonder what it would be like to turn it and go outside my little room. I know this is dangerous territory. I am working on NOT looking at or contemplating that knob when things are at their worst. Every once in a while, though, it has been kinda good that I looked... cause things actually do NOT look greener on the other side when I have. Not overall... there might be patches of greener... but not the whole lawn... at least... when I've tried to see without seeing. And since that's the closest I'm gunna go to checkin out that grass... well, I think THAT sort of knob-lookin' has done me good.
So, that's my Parable. Definitely NOT amazing and minimally put as The Master parable-teller's. But it's mine. :) Monster Girls can be pleased with their silly efforts, too... can't I?
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