None of you here know Jen or have ever spoken to her, so that makes this a rather safe place to rant about her and such. Still, I feel obliged to point out that all of this is from my point of view and there is always another side.
Last night, as I was depressed and trying not to be, I get my dinner ready at like 10pm or so and I sit down to eat it, and get a call from Jen. She told me to meet her downstairs if I wanted dinner. I had assumed that she needed me to bring something in from the car. This became clear that she didn't want that when I got out there in my PJ shorts and barefoot. I had not turned off the stove which had my eggs boiling on it or anything.
So, it was now clear she wanted to head out to dinner with me - and was asking me to go with her. I got so excited that I can’t even describe and I rushed in the house to put pants on. I forgot about my food on the table or the stove being on. We got like maybe 1/3 of the way to where we were going and I pointed out that I left the stove on. Thinking we could go back, I could turn it off, and then head out. That didn’t happen.
I’ve always had a problem not thinking about things, just rushing out and not really thinking about what had to be done. So much so that she stopped doing stuff like this a while back because I had a tendency to drop everything - even if something needed to be finished - and rushing off. Bad choice I guess. Last weekend with the laundry I did something similar, I was in such a hurry to get back home so that we could go out to the horses together than I didn’t let the clothes dry all the way - there was a problem with one of the driers at the laundromat.
So now she says that clearly I haven’t changed and that while I keep saying I’m thinking before I act on things, I am still acting out of fear. Out of fear of what she’s going to say or fear of what she’s going to do. It ends up the same every time, disappointment. So now she is saying that she’s never going to head home and surprise me with a chance to head out to dinner again. She doesn’t want to check up on me like a parent or something to make sure I remember to do things that I was supposed to do - such as turn off the stove and put stuff away.
That is the story of our lives together. Everything has a permanence to it, which is one of the reasons I’m afraid of how she reacts to things. She is her mothers daughter, who had the philosophy of if a person wanted to do something right they just would have and if they didn’t do it right it was because they didn’t want to. Well, that - for Jo Anne - was everything. If you’d really wanted to you just would have done it. It feels like if anyone makes a mistake then they don’t get a redo or a second chance. Now I will say I have gotten a lot of chances to get things right. Things like this bother me a lot though, I don’t like being tested. I don’t like being tested when I don’t know a test is coming. I don’t like the fact that Jen doesn’t seem to be willing to put the effort into helping me build new habits by pointing out, “Hey, this is where you usually don’t think.” It feels like she has given up on me.
She has often heard me say that one of these days I’m afraid that I’ll no longer be worth her time. This kind of thing is why. Too many mistakes, too much effort required. I feel broken, defective, and alone. I lack any hope for my future. She thinks it is all bullshit, she doesn’t know what it is like to feel this way. She has no idea what it is like to need another human being who decides that they don’t want you anymore. I don’t honestly want her to know, but the reason she doesn’t know is that she doesn’t get attached to people. People need her but she doesn’t need others. I sometimes wonder if she really feels anything at all.
I don’t know, that sounds mean. I’m sure it gets tiring dealing with my mistakes over and over again. I tend to do that, make the same mistakes over and over again. I just don’t think I deserve to be alone for it. Nor do I think it is fair to just throw in the towel when all we had to do was run back, turn off the stove, and go have dinner. That’s not how she works, to her it is a personal affront that I didn’t think to do those things, as if I have personally insulted her. The whole, “If you really cared you would have…” or “…you wouldn’t have…” kind of things. No matter how many foot rubs I give her, no matter how many times I get her pills ready at night, make her bed, clean the house, do the laundry, make she her refills get into the pharmacy on time, or anything. None of it ever touches this core of her perception of me. None of it matters.
And this is why I’m tired. Life is futile.