This week, I tell ya. I finally got to see my therapist after several weeks of interruption — he was sacked from where he worked for giving notice, and set up at the new place he was going to and we finally had a session. It was good, we talked about my event anxiety and I got some coping strategies to work on that, as I have some events coming up over the next couple of months.
There was some minor Doris action, but her apartment is cleared out, she’s at the nursing home and Mum is slowly starting to understand she doesn’t have to run and hold Doris’ hand through every little crisis — so that’s been good.
I’m going to Little Rock, Arkansas for Passover with my friends there; we have having our seders out. The first night at the local synagogue, which should be good, and the second night at a rabbi’s house, which also should be good, and hopefully doesn’t last until dawn. (Some people really love Passover, I’m not one of them.) I’ll be staying until the first “intermediate day” when work and driving are permitted, then I will come home.
I have more SCA events I am going to go to coming up and I have been planning for those, one in May over in Arkansas for the Kingdom’s Crown Tourney List, and a week later a trip to Dallas, TX for Steppes Warlord over Memorial Day weekend, where I intend to qualify again as a heavy fighter after some 20 years or so of inactivity on the field. I’m also going to see by BFF from high school, who I have not seen since we were teens. He’s going to hook me up with armour and some weapons and get me authorized, then I can hit people with rattan sticks!
But my FP this week is named D.
My ex K and I have always been on good terms, we have always talked sporadically since we broke up and enjoy it when we can see each other in person, though it’s not very often as she lives in Canada. (This is not my ex wife the Australian.) She’s been married to D for about 15 years — and we are all part of the same “household” in the SCA. (That historical group I belong to — see previous diaries on “Gulf War”.)
We’ve all known each other for a long time, and get together every few years as we can, it was much easier when I lived in Oregon, as they live in western Canada.
We chat and text pretty much every day and that has been going on for a while now. This is pretty typical of our communication, we’ve always been close and talked a lot when the mood struck us, and we started talking a lot again before I went to Gulf Wars because I have event anxiety and she helps with that. D and I generally get along fine, the last time we were all together was in Seattle for a visit and a good time was had by all. D and I are not as close as I am with K, but we can talk about things and get along well.
The problem is that D is a selfish asshole. He’s not cruel, he’s not abusive; but he’s not really aware of K’s needs in terms of physical help — she’s differently abled — and just being a partner. He “forgets” pretty much anything she needs, and spends his time reading book after book. He says he needs to be “reminded” of things that need to be done, but calls the actual reminding “nagging.” He has 4 hours a day of commute time where he is free to read and relax, but insists he needs more time at home to read and relax and not be bothered by his family. (They have a teen son at home.)
He’s in charge of cooking as she can’t stand at the stove for long periods of time, but he reads while he cooks and generally served dinner after 9pm. He requires that she ask for everything. If he’s hungry he will make himself food and not ask if she wants anything, she has to ask him for it if she’s hungry. Then he gets resentful about making something for her, when he could have just made enough of whatever for two. He makes her ask for a drink with every meal, he “can’t remember” that she might want one. He makes her ask to go upstairs to bed, (she needs help on the stairs) he makes her ask for affection and time — he’s indifferent to spending time with her when he could be reading. It literally never occurs to him to remember he has a partner unless he wants something.
He resents any kind of discussion of mutual parenting goals. It’s like he feels he works and makes the food, and that should be enough responsibility for him. Even in therapy he complains of being hounded and harassed by basic responsibilities as more than his share. She works too, plus manages the running of the household — appointments, doctors visits, driving their son to and from school, what she can do of the housework — she’s not expecting him to do it all, just do the things she can’t, and to be a partner to her.
Naturally, I hear about all of this, and I’ve seen it in action as well in real life. We are all supposed to camp together for 2 weeks in late summer — and right now, I want to kick him in the balls for making my friend miserable. I’m not sure I can put up with 2 weeks of him ignoring her needs while camping and not say something — and knowing me, it won’t be tactful. I’ve suggested single counseling to her to help with her feelings of being abandoned and neglected, and maybe stepping up the couples counseling so he can see that she has responsibilities too, she’s not asking anything she’s not willing to give.
But now I need coping skills to deal with it. I don’t want drama over the summer camping, 2 weeks of camping can get pretty drama laden if you don’t watch it, with so many people so close to each other — and I hate drama. So I have to sort out how to remain civil to D while making sure K isn’t miserable camping because she’ll have a hard time getting around, plus manage my own event anxiety that I just have by going to events. There are so many people I haven’t seen in years, there is so much going on at an event that big (10,000+ people all camping at once) and there are camp responsibilities we all share (fire maintenance, keeping the camp safe and tidy, guard duty) it’s going to be a lot. I get homesick and miss my cat — during Gulf Wars he licked a patch of his fur off because I was gone; 2 weeks is a long time to be away, even if I am mostly having fun. And leaving Mum home alone with Gran isn’t easy either — she’s a mean old bat, even if we do love her.
So that’s my fucking problem this week, coping skills needed.
What’s yours?