Now that American Thanksgiving has passed I have a bit of a breather before I start preparing for Christmas and the New Year. The Thanksgiving holiday was wonderful. I arrived at the beach house with two full days to prep, and I really only needed one. I can be quite productive when I put my mind to it. It helps that I had those days all to myself. I even went into the little beach town just north of us and purchased fresh flowers. I always do my own arrangements.
I also do all the cooking at this point since I love doing it, and no one else really does. My parents put on Thanksgiving for decades. They don’t want to do it anymore. It’s okay. Now that I’m no longer in the throes of betrayal trauma, I’m good doing this for the family, and for myself. This year’s feast included a dry-brined heritage bird, plus all the usual sides… mashed potatoes, gravy, dressing, homemade cranberry & fig chutney, green bean casserole (from scratch with everything fresh), honey garlic glazed rainbow carrots (I love rainbow carrots), sweet potato casserole & dinner rolls. At the beach house I also like to do a green salad topped with crab & shrimp, which I purchase local. My parents brought the desserts. Two pies from a little local pie bakery in Portland called Lauretta Jean’s, and a fresh apple cake that my mom made. The two siblings (of my 10 sibs) that are here for Thanksgiving don’t really have the desire or ability to bring anything other than themselves. The Peacemaker dry brined the turkey for me since they picked up the bird in Portland. The Peacemaker also loves to cook, but mostly he loves to eat what I cook. He’s so cute!
Thanksgiving at the beach house is a much smaller affair than when I entertained family at our Portland house. Christmas will be another story as The Pragmatist and his girlfriend will be back from Madrid and joining us for the holidays, plus GQ+family will also be in town again. The beach house has this great open plan with lots of prep counter space, and that view.
I haven’t had much time to write since my last post, but there is no shutting down this brain. Journal entries and blog posts swirl around in my head constantly. Only a fraction actually make it here. I have been reading blogs and making some comments, wanting to post about topics like whether or not to tell a friend that you think their partner is cheating on them, about triggers, about my feelings towards cutting… some of these things I have written about before, but as the years pass, and I heal, my feelings sometimes adapt. I’ll probably still write about those things again, but not today.
One post I have had in my queue for a while and just need to finish by adding photos is a travel entry from our recent trip to Europe. Two days into that 16 day trip I contracted what would eventually turn into bronchial pneumonia and a wicked sinus infection. More on that later, but suffice it to say that October was a tough month. I returned home, visited the doc, picked up meds, and got on another plane bound for Tokyo. OY!!!! Looking back on it now just makes me tired. In the original plan, Blue Eyes and I are supposed to be boarding a plane tomorrow for Oahu. Not going to happen. Not only did Blue Eyes also contract a pretty evil case of bronchitis, but both our dogs came down with pancreatitis. We still don’t know what they ingested, but a couple thousand dollars later, we decided to postpone Hawaii until January and give everyone an at-home resting period. During the process of re-booking our Hawaii trip, I asked Blue Eyes which seats he wanted to be in on the plane. On the return flight we will be in First Class row 2. Blue Eyes sort of flippantly threw out a “hey, weren’t those the seats we were in when the other woman showed up on that plane with us coming back from Hawaii.” But he didn’t say “the other woman.” He said her name. He rarely ever says her name. I say her name. I still do. I still believe it just comes out because my subconscious wants to remind me to remind Blue Eyes that I haven’t forgotten that he had a disgusting 8-year whatever you want to call it relationship with some scary hoarding alcoholic stalker.
I didn’t really react right away to him saying her name. When she showed up on the plane with us less than a year into the healing process, I was a mess. We both were. It was a horrifying experience. (That day she showed up on a plane with us)
But that was nearly four years ago. I’m over it, right? Well, yeah, technically I’m over all that, but I’m not completely over the fact that my husband did all those horrible things and that he would be willing to just throw her name out there in such a casual manner, bringing up one of the most horrifying days of my life. Hmmm. Later in bed I was having trouble falling asleep–imagine that. Blue Eyes could sense my restlessness. He asked what was wrong. I told him I was kind of bothered by how casually he brought up her name. I don’t like it. For a long time I wanted him to be able to say her name, because back then he flat out wouldn’t. Like if he didn’t say her actual name she wasn’t actually real, or something. These days, I don’t want him thinking or talking about her. So, I told him how I was feeling.
And he did this… he rolled over and said “you are living in the past.”
Oh no he didn’t. Yeah, he did.
I was immediately angry. Ah, if it were all so easy. That was then, this is now. “Oh, yeah, hey Mr. Police Officer, I did brutally murder that guy last week, but that was the PAST. I am a different man today. I don’t have to live with any consequences, right? YOU are living in the past, Mr. Police Officer…. “ And I said that to him, out loud. Clearly he was annoyed that I was keeping him from his precious sleep. Fuck it, who cares if I can’t sleep because of his careless words? He said, oh maybe I should just be sent to the guillotine then (don’t know where guillotine came from, probably the quickest most violent thing he could think of???) But, in my mind he was saying that I was being ridiculous and what I was saying was ridiculous and therefore he was going to throw out something equally as ridiculous. Obviously he was annoyed and not taking me seriously at all. So I just said, “yeah, maybe.” If he could be flippant, so could I. The sad thing is, all he had to do was say he understands and he is sorry for being so callous. He could have just hugged me and said, “I’m sorry for being such a jerk.” He understands that all the things he did and said to harm me will resurface, potentially forever. He is the one who wants to make this relationship work. He can walk away any time, from me, from my obsessive nature, from my need to talk things out, from my need to be respected.
I know life is hard, but when you have thrown your loyal spouse under the bus, lied to her, lied about her, cheated on her repeatedly… I don’t understand how you wouldn’t do everything in your power just to be kind. Don’t suddenly become argumentative when you have done something wrong. Don’t try to minimize the damage of what you have done. Own it. Apologize. I will continue to be triggered. I know how to live in the moment and in that moment I was triggered. Yes I was triggered about something from the past, but he is the one who fucking brought it up… HELLO???? I know he is human and humans are extremely fallible beings, but come on, give me a fucking break and own your shit Blue Eyes. Take your anger off to your 12 step meeting and hash it out with them. To me, just BE KIND.