ah, so close to home. now i know why he is obsessed with getting me back.
Great article, copied from http://www.drirene.com/cyclesof.htm
The classic abusive relationship is characterized by a three-stage cycle that may or may not be visible to outsiders.
Victim Beware: You are on an emotional roller coaster ride that will wear you down and deplete your self-esteem!
The Tension-Building Stage:
The angry person becomes increasingly controlling during this period, which may take days, weeks, or even years to evolve and progress. Limits are imposed on the partner. For example, the abuser may decide what clothes look "right" on the partner, or what image is portrayed. They may try to define whom the partner may or may not speak with and about what, etc. The control is insidious and progressive. As tension and control increase, the partner attempts to accommodate the abuser in order to keep peace, to please the abuser, or for some similar reason. Despite actions the partner takes, the abuser becomes increasingly remote, contemptuous, critical, preoccupied, or otherwise on edge. The tension and control increase until culminating in the abuse stage.
The Abuse Stage:
A major verbal, emotional or physically abusive incident occurs that was instigated by the abuser. A trivial event is often used to trigger the main event. The abuser actively looks for excuses to blow up over, and may set their partner up in a no-win situation. One angry man found reason to verbally abuse his girlfriend and destroy her property because he did not like the size of the pot she was boiling eggs in. Needless to say, the pot had nothing to do with anything. This opportunist had simply received a nod from a former lover, decided to change girlfriends, and wanted an out. The victim is often left feeling hurt - and confused.
The Remorse Stage:
Once the blows are delivered, the abuser is calmed. Having blown off steam and regaining composure, the abusive person is full of apologies and promises never to do "it" again - if the partner distances. The more distanced the victim, the more intensely the abuser pursues...and pursues...and pursues. The abuser can be so charming and complimentary, the codependent victim's heart breaks. There is a compelling need to believe their abuser's promises and pleas and take them back. The more codependent and insecure the partner, the more vulnerable they are to the partner's attentive remorse. Abusers during this phase are wonderful! A "normal" person is unlikely to be so compelling and persistent in winning over their partner's love - because they have no reason to be.
As the relationship progresses, the abuse cycle typically escalates in intensity and in the temporal contiguity of its negative aspects. The abuse lasts longer and becomes more pronounced, while the loving remorse dwindles.
The abuser loves a good challenge. The goal is to win the victim back, at any price. At a distance, the partner is perceived as emotionally "safe." The harder the abuser has to work to win back his or her victim, the more the victim is appreciated. Once the relationship resumes, the abuser's mistrust prompts their poor recall of any tender feelings. Their fear inevitably powers the resumption of the abuse cycle.
Doc's Advice: Trust ACTIONS, not words.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Detox
On saturday morning, i woke up to a swollen lymph node on the right side of my neck. My mother, a nurse, seems unconcerned, telling me that my body is just fighting off an infection. I am more anxious, I have no other symptoms other than a painfully swollen lymph node, which i've been referring to as My Little Goiter.
M.L.G. did coincide with The Ex's birthday. I had been agonizing over this day, to me it seemed cruel/wrong/sad to not call someone who, up until recently, I have loved. But the rule I have followed the past four weeks is No Contact - and no contact means no contact means no contact. So I ran to the next town over to spend the night with my best friend and her family, and wearily watched for a text or call. When one thankfully didn't come, I pushed my luck and checked his myspace.*
* i don't know why i've been doing this, it has been tapering off, but every time i check, i come away three degrees more depressed than where I was to begin with. It's like a battle between Functional Sara and Dysfunctional Sara. My functional side is in charge 80% of the time (an estimate). It lead me to get out of a dysfunctional relationship, enforces the no contact rule, makes sure that I'm the Designated Driver, leads me to eat my broccoli, etc.
My dysfunctional side rationalizes the emotional abuse that lead to the break up and draws me, magnet-like, to check the myspace - or to secretly wish that i could take it all back, and be happy to be unhappy.
But the myspace blog had a new entry, about how he is sure that i am over him - laughing about his pain. No contact means no contact - but when I read that i was so overwhelmed at how wrong it could be, i wished i could call him, list out his flaws, remind him of how often i was in tears, before. When we were together. That I left not because i didn't love him (deeply), but because - as Ani DiFranco says, self preservation is a full time occupation...and being with him was hurting me.
+++++++++++++++++++++
So I am on Detox. or, Hetox. Two months of not checking his myspace, his facebook, or trolling for his comments on the pages of mutual friends.
++++++++++++++++++++++
No-smoking Detox is going pretty well, not that i was a huge smoker before - lately 2 or 3 a day, but it's still funny how often i need to remind myself not to smoke. like this:
i want a cigarette. oh. i'm not smoking.
(ten minutes later)
i need to buy cigarettes. oh. i'm not smoking.
(2 hours later)
that was a good movie. maybe i want a OH RIGHT I SMOKE THE CIGARETTES NO MORE. FINE.
so, cheerio. leave me an upbeat comment if you are up for it, i do so like them :-)
M.L.G. did coincide with The Ex's birthday. I had been agonizing over this day, to me it seemed cruel/wrong/sad to not call someone who, up until recently, I have loved. But the rule I have followed the past four weeks is No Contact - and no contact means no contact means no contact. So I ran to the next town over to spend the night with my best friend and her family, and wearily watched for a text or call. When one thankfully didn't come, I pushed my luck and checked his myspace.*
* i don't know why i've been doing this, it has been tapering off, but every time i check, i come away three degrees more depressed than where I was to begin with. It's like a battle between Functional Sara and Dysfunctional Sara. My functional side is in charge 80% of the time (an estimate). It lead me to get out of a dysfunctional relationship, enforces the no contact rule, makes sure that I'm the Designated Driver, leads me to eat my broccoli, etc.
My dysfunctional side rationalizes the emotional abuse that lead to the break up and draws me, magnet-like, to check the myspace - or to secretly wish that i could take it all back, and be happy to be unhappy.
But the myspace blog had a new entry, about how he is sure that i am over him - laughing about his pain. No contact means no contact - but when I read that i was so overwhelmed at how wrong it could be, i wished i could call him, list out his flaws, remind him of how often i was in tears, before. When we were together. That I left not because i didn't love him (deeply), but because - as Ani DiFranco says, self preservation is a full time occupation...and being with him was hurting me.
+++++++++++++++++++++
So I am on Detox. or, Hetox. Two months of not checking his myspace, his facebook, or trolling for his comments on the pages of mutual friends.
++++++++++++++++++++++
No-smoking Detox is going pretty well, not that i was a huge smoker before - lately 2 or 3 a day, but it's still funny how often i need to remind myself not to smoke. like this:
i want a cigarette. oh. i'm not smoking.
(ten minutes later)
i need to buy cigarettes. oh. i'm not smoking.
(2 hours later)
that was a good movie. maybe i want a OH RIGHT I SMOKE THE CIGARETTES NO MORE. FINE.
so, cheerio. leave me an upbeat comment if you are up for it, i do so like them :-)
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
...
"There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we can't live without but have to let go."
social observation
Golf Course:
1. I am white. duh. the other 4 men who work in the office are white.
2. the 8 men in the repair shop are all black.
3. all of the men and women, who do the landscaping, are hispanic.
just sayin. just weird.
1. I am white. duh. the other 4 men who work in the office are white.
2. the 8 men in the repair shop are all black.
3. all of the men and women, who do the landscaping, are hispanic.
just sayin. just weird.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
no more white-trash breakfast
1. freaked out by the concept of vibrating mascara. i mean, really, wtf? it's soooo hard to use these hand movements to put this mascara from the brush into my eyelashes...
2. The TV, she bores me. I scored Season 3 of Arrested Development at Target for the super low price of $11.99, but other than AD, and reruns of the office, there is nothing that interests me. Now the baby shows anger me, as do pregnant women, as if each one is mocking my non-ability to have a successful relationship.
An exception from this was visiting a friend this past weekend, and her baby, up in the North Carolina Mountains. HER baby didn't mock me. HER baby was just too cute for words, with toes like tic tacs, and the ittiest, bittiest little nose that EVER EXISTED. I offered to kidnap the child, but to no avail.
3. I'm going to go ahead and make a few changes for the better. I mean, heck. My life is in complete turmoil, so why not.
Breakfast THEN: A poptart and a cigarette.
Breakfast NOW: A banana and some almonds. and a piece of gum.
but i don't know, i did love the combination of poptart/cigarette. i mean, it's just so delightfully trashy, y'know?
oh and i also took a long walk yesterday. so there. now i am healthy.
2. The TV, she bores me. I scored Season 3 of Arrested Development at Target for the super low price of $11.99, but other than AD, and reruns of the office, there is nothing that interests me. Now the baby shows anger me, as do pregnant women, as if each one is mocking my non-ability to have a successful relationship.
An exception from this was visiting a friend this past weekend, and her baby, up in the North Carolina Mountains. HER baby didn't mock me. HER baby was just too cute for words, with toes like tic tacs, and the ittiest, bittiest little nose that EVER EXISTED. I offered to kidnap the child, but to no avail.
3. I'm going to go ahead and make a few changes for the better. I mean, heck. My life is in complete turmoil, so why not.
Breakfast THEN: A poptart and a cigarette.
Breakfast NOW: A banana and some almonds. and a piece of gum.
but i don't know, i did love the combination of poptart/cigarette. i mean, it's just so delightfully trashy, y'know?
oh and i also took a long walk yesterday. so there. now i am healthy.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
ipod, breakup, mountains.
1. As far as I can tell, it's going to take me forever and a weekend to get over this breakup. Sometimes i'm doing just fine, and other times i have to step out of the room to cry. It is getting better though, last week when the Ex left flowers over at the borrowed house, it resulted in four bouts of tears (one in the living room, one in Laura's living room, and two in the car). This week, when he left a small potted plant and a terrrrrrrible poem outside my parent's door, there were no tears as a direct result. I do have to say, however, i hate that he still thinks he can have me back. That makes it worse.
two upsetting thoughts of mine:
a. he's gone. like, gone-gone. we aren't friends and we're not going to be lovers (eww, the word lover is so gross. sorry about that). The times that it hurts the most include: when i have news and it strikes me that i can't tell him, or when i picture his side profile. I loved that profile.
b. I'm single again. God, how horrible. does this seriously mean that i have to date again? uiuurarrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhh. That, my friends, is the sound i make when i think about having to do the whole "he's so cute do you think he'll call i hope he calls why hasn't he called oh my god i kissed this cute guy the other night i have a date tonight what do i wear he hugged me goodnight do you think that's a good thing or a bad thing? huh? huh? huh?" good lord, grant me the serenity...
2. I'm heading to the mountains of North Carolina this weekend. It'll be good to get out of Charleston for a hot minute.
3. The other day, my ipod hid itself (uh huh). This was a travesty of justice. The radio in my car is all broke up, meaning that it doesn't work, and so i've been heading to Kiawah every morning with my ipod and itty bitty speakers as my source of entertainment. Trust me, a 45 minute drive in SILENCE is not what i really recommend if you are trying to stay a)in a good mood, or b)awake.
I found it last night hiding in a stack of library books. bad ipod, bad! but i can't stay mad at it, my drive this morning was ever so much more delightful than the past few days.
4. Speaking of the south, I'm having a hell of a time understanding some of these fricken' accents. Yes, I know, I myself am a southern girl. HOWEVER, and this is a big however, i am a stringent fan of diction. E-NUN-CI-ATE, people. between
a)dude in my office that mumbles enough that i kind of just nod my head whenever he starts talking
b)A truck driver on the phone the other day that i would guess to be directly related to Boomhauer (of King of the Hill fame)
and
c) a woman who called for a dude in the garage. conversation as follows:
Woman: "mmmhmhmmhmhmlaksdnnhmhmhmalkg"
me: "i'm sorry?"
Woman, more forcefully "mmfhfmmmmghmmm Speak mnmnmhmn I-Rhone dmnnjmmmmmm"
me:"i don't understand you!"
Woman, simplifying: "I-RHONE"
me: "you want to speak to I-rhone?
Woman: TYYYYYYYYYRRRRRROOOONNNNNE!
me: "Tyrone? i'll get him for you"
not so different as being in slovakia, now, is it?
two upsetting thoughts of mine:
a. he's gone. like, gone-gone. we aren't friends and we're not going to be lovers (eww, the word lover is so gross. sorry about that). The times that it hurts the most include: when i have news and it strikes me that i can't tell him, or when i picture his side profile. I loved that profile.
b. I'm single again. God, how horrible. does this seriously mean that i have to date again? uiuurarrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhh. That, my friends, is the sound i make when i think about having to do the whole "he's so cute do you think he'll call i hope he calls why hasn't he called oh my god i kissed this cute guy the other night i have a date tonight what do i wear he hugged me goodnight do you think that's a good thing or a bad thing? huh? huh? huh?" good lord, grant me the serenity...
2. I'm heading to the mountains of North Carolina this weekend. It'll be good to get out of Charleston for a hot minute.
3. The other day, my ipod hid itself (uh huh). This was a travesty of justice. The radio in my car is all broke up, meaning that it doesn't work, and so i've been heading to Kiawah every morning with my ipod and itty bitty speakers as my source of entertainment. Trust me, a 45 minute drive in SILENCE is not what i really recommend if you are trying to stay a)in a good mood, or b)awake.
I found it last night hiding in a stack of library books. bad ipod, bad! but i can't stay mad at it, my drive this morning was ever so much more delightful than the past few days.
4. Speaking of the south, I'm having a hell of a time understanding some of these fricken' accents. Yes, I know, I myself am a southern girl. HOWEVER, and this is a big however, i am a stringent fan of diction. E-NUN-CI-ATE, people. between
a)dude in my office that mumbles enough that i kind of just nod my head whenever he starts talking
b)A truck driver on the phone the other day that i would guess to be directly related to Boomhauer (of King of the Hill fame)
and
c) a woman who called for a dude in the garage. conversation as follows:
Woman: "mmmhmhmmhmhmlaksdnnhmhmhmalkg"
me: "i'm sorry?"
Woman, more forcefully "mmfhfmmmmghmmm Speak mnmnmhmn I-Rhone dmnnjmmmmmm"
me:"i don't understand you!"
Woman, simplifying: "I-RHONE"
me: "you want to speak to I-rhone?
Woman: TYYYYYYYYYRRRRRROOOONNNNNE!
me: "Tyrone? i'll get him for you"
not so different as being in slovakia, now, is it?
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
another thought
when a boyfriend brings you flowers, people say "awwww!"
when an ex-boyfriend brings you flowers, people say "i'm sorry."
when an ex-boyfriend brings you flowers, people say "i'm sorry."
Monday, August 10, 2009
Friday, August 07, 2009
the sweet, sunny, south
I'm house-sitting this weekend, in a large house on one of the barrier islands of charleston. I have a kabuki-faced golden retriever for company, as well as a Lara and a Laura at various times. The desk i'm sitting at overlooks the marsh, green even in the dog days of summer. This afternoon I spent watching Fried Green Tomatoes with a stack of library books by my side; lunch was a homemade caprese salad and white wine. Life is Good. It's peaceful.
I am making peace with the idea of staying here (not in this house, silly, in charleston). Charleston isn't a metropolis. It's not near san francisco or new york - hell, even silly ol' Atlanta is 5 hours away. Charleston isn't liberal, and it doesn't boast many hip coffee shops or underground bands. There is still identifiable racism - Black people are often dishwashers and mexicans take care of the landscaping, for example. The quantity of tiny, tan, preppy college students hasn't decreased in the time that i've been away.
But there is such beauty. The infamous southern drawl (it'll creep up on you 'til you find yourself speaking slower and softer, always with a smile), the spanish moss. How is such a bug infested, itself-a-parasite such a nice thing?
(i know you've seen this pic before, sorry 'bout that, but it's all i got right now)
there's the beach, oh, the beach. I still have never managed to understand how to "do" summer without a beach.
and, i wouldn't put this on the list, but now i'm into the pictures and mygod! what a picture: charleston has its own baseball team and its own threateningly beautiful summer sky:
(truly, i didn't touch the colors)
Here i have people that i can truly lean on for support, people that i would gladly do the same for. I have a sweet downtown that I can ride a bike through, a university or two that i could finish my master's degree at. Most importantly, it's home.
and i'm finally starting to realize that.
I am making peace with the idea of staying here (not in this house, silly, in charleston). Charleston isn't a metropolis. It's not near san francisco or new york - hell, even silly ol' Atlanta is 5 hours away. Charleston isn't liberal, and it doesn't boast many hip coffee shops or underground bands. There is still identifiable racism - Black people are often dishwashers and mexicans take care of the landscaping, for example. The quantity of tiny, tan, preppy college students hasn't decreased in the time that i've been away.
But there is such beauty. The infamous southern drawl (it'll creep up on you 'til you find yourself speaking slower and softer, always with a smile), the spanish moss. How is such a bug infested, itself-a-parasite such a nice thing?
(i know you've seen this pic before, sorry 'bout that, but it's all i got right now)
there's the beach, oh, the beach. I still have never managed to understand how to "do" summer without a beach.
and, i wouldn't put this on the list, but now i'm into the pictures and mygod! what a picture: charleston has its own baseball team and its own threateningly beautiful summer sky:
(truly, i didn't touch the colors)
Here i have people that i can truly lean on for support, people that i would gladly do the same for. I have a sweet downtown that I can ride a bike through, a university or two that i could finish my master's degree at. Most importantly, it's home.
and i'm finally starting to realize that.
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Randoms
Grocery List
poptarts
reese's pb cups (the ten pack, individually wrapped)
hamburger helper
pink champagne.
.....
i read on some internet scientific-y paper, that after a breakup, after two months, people more or less return to their "standard happiness level."
I think my happiness level is/was pretty high, at least a 7 out of 10 or so (i completely made that up), and perhaps i think myself to be resilient, so maybe i am, or will be, eventually, happy again.
i'm showing signs of improvement; there are hints of happiness, and anger, and not-thinking-about it now tucked in between the omnipresent feeling of empty. It still seems like this feeling is going to last forever. But then i rationalize with myself that hey! nothing lasts forever. i mean, eventually i'll be dead, and i won't be sad then, right?
(Fear not, that was not an insight into suicidal thoughts, it was meant to be a joke - but my humor muscles are, for the time being, not plugged in)
EXAMPLES OF NOW HAVING OTHER EMOTIONS OTHER THAN SADNESS:
driving back from kiawah yesterday, windows open, muggy august heat contrasting the chilly ac, first through the marsh and then on a long straight road covered by a canopy of leafy trees and spanish moss, patchy sun shining through. I turned the music up as loud as I could and sang along, loud as I could, to michael jackson and sara & tegan and the cardigans and modest mouse. To music that isn't sad, music that isn't about love or lost love, and as i sang and drove through the woods and over the bridges above the sparkling charleston harbors, I felt a little, tiny, itty-bitty bit lighter.
poptarts
reese's pb cups (the ten pack, individually wrapped)
hamburger helper
pink champagne.
.....
i read on some internet scientific-y paper, that after a breakup, after two months, people more or less return to their "standard happiness level."
I think my happiness level is/was pretty high, at least a 7 out of 10 or so (i completely made that up), and perhaps i think myself to be resilient, so maybe i am, or will be, eventually, happy again.
i'm showing signs of improvement; there are hints of happiness, and anger, and not-thinking-about it now tucked in between the omnipresent feeling of empty. It still seems like this feeling is going to last forever. But then i rationalize with myself that hey! nothing lasts forever. i mean, eventually i'll be dead, and i won't be sad then, right?
(Fear not, that was not an insight into suicidal thoughts, it was meant to be a joke - but my humor muscles are, for the time being, not plugged in)
EXAMPLES OF NOW HAVING OTHER EMOTIONS OTHER THAN SADNESS:
driving back from kiawah yesterday, windows open, muggy august heat contrasting the chilly ac, first through the marsh and then on a long straight road covered by a canopy of leafy trees and spanish moss, patchy sun shining through. I turned the music up as loud as I could and sang along, loud as I could, to michael jackson and sara & tegan and the cardigans and modest mouse. To music that isn't sad, music that isn't about love or lost love, and as i sang and drove through the woods and over the bridges above the sparkling charleston harbors, I felt a little, tiny, itty-bitty bit lighter.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
topic
god, this breakup is just a knock-down, drag-out disaster-fest to the end.
it's been a week now, and i've finally managed to cut off all contact, but not without a bucket and a half of tears. (no really, i measured).
Stream of Conciousness that keeps running through my head over and over until words lose all meaning:
I'm so angry that i let myself stay in a relationship where i was treated badly. I'm so angry that I still miss him. I hate that i hurt him. I hate that he's hurting. I hate that i lived for a fantasy future, where he would one day learn to treat me well ALL the time, not just some of the time. I hate that I can't have my fantasy any more. I hate that some of the time he was so sweet, and so loving. I hate that I still love him.
............
where does love go when you decide that it isn't good for you anymore? does it just die from neglect after awhile? do you always have it? what the fuck?
...
i'm so bad at breaking up. it's like there's all this sadness, and my never ending stream-of-conciousness, mixed with a full dose of Wanting-To-Jump-Out-Of-My-Skin. And my reaction, other than crying, is to find an unassuming family member/close friend, and sit next to them and cry. i know that it takes time to get over a relationship, especially one with such a painful breakup. but i just want the pain to stop.
suck, suck, suck.
it's been a week now, and i've finally managed to cut off all contact, but not without a bucket and a half of tears. (no really, i measured).
Stream of Conciousness that keeps running through my head over and over until words lose all meaning:
I'm so angry that i let myself stay in a relationship where i was treated badly. I'm so angry that I still miss him. I hate that i hurt him. I hate that he's hurting. I hate that i lived for a fantasy future, where he would one day learn to treat me well ALL the time, not just some of the time. I hate that I can't have my fantasy any more. I hate that some of the time he was so sweet, and so loving. I hate that I still love him.
............
where does love go when you decide that it isn't good for you anymore? does it just die from neglect after awhile? do you always have it? what the fuck?
...
i'm so bad at breaking up. it's like there's all this sadness, and my never ending stream-of-conciousness, mixed with a full dose of Wanting-To-Jump-Out-Of-My-Skin. And my reaction, other than crying, is to find an unassuming family member/close friend, and sit next to them and cry. i know that it takes time to get over a relationship, especially one with such a painful breakup. but i just want the pain to stop.
suck, suck, suck.
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