What's currently happening in my life and what I think about all this now.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on October 11, 2020 at 11:40 PM|
This is going to be challenging, going on alone. I remember this person every single hour. I can't erase him from my thoughts. A healthier person would have found someone else awayyyy back yonder and been married three or four years now, but not me. I liked this guy from the night I met him.
Twenty-two years is a long time. A shame it will amount to absolutely nothing, when it could have been so much more.
But I recognize here one awful thing I am doing to this person just by being the way I am. I am dependent on him for my happiness. And one thing one should never, ever do to a sick codependent is make him responsible for your happiness.
They can't even be responsible for their own happiness! How the fuck are they supposed to be responsible for yours??
Of course, the longer you're with someone, having them around does become part of your happiness. That's why widows and widowers suffer so much. But this was different. We were acquaintance/friends a long time, but we were only "together" four months. Four months!
THIS is the very reason he couldn't leave his marriage! He felt responsible for everyone else's happiness. His wife's, of course. His adult children's. Everybody who was looking at him funny because he moved out. His cousin, his brother. He even felt responsible for the happiness of his wife's brother and sister! Which was ridiculous, as far as I could tell. As well as I could gather, they don't even live in the state. And he never really even sounded as if he liked them!
So here I come, p-p-poor, b-b-baby-baby me, and declare I'll never be happy again without him! (Well, I never actually said that, but c'mon. Codependents are practically mind-readers. It's part of their equipment to survive childhood.)
Sheesh. I would have run away, too.
He'll never see this, because from the time I posted that address to the person from his neighborhood who kept visiting here, he's never come back. So, I'll just send this out into the ether:
Chi, I'm really sorry I put so much on you. You don't have the power to actually make anyone else happy. I know that the sum total of a codependent childhood is that we grow up feeling responsible for everyone else's emotions and not for our own, so I should never, ever have done that to you. I am an independent person and completely responsible for myself. You are not responsible for my happiness, EVER. You are responsible for your own.
(And I hope you get crackin', because you are about to turn 62. It's kind of hard to do this in the nursing home while you wee-wee in your Depends.)
What an awful thing. I should have known better. I mean, I do know better, but I never quite looked at it like this. Here's poor Chi, feeling awful for upsetting his adult daughter and all the rest of the family, and now he has to feel guilty about me, too?? Nope. Not me. From now on, I'm responsible for myself. Nobody else is.
Of course, this is a tall order for me, because I have so little left to create any happiness out of. I have no close loved ones at all. I have no family. I have a couple of friends, but I'm not that close to one of them, and I don't feel like I can whine all the time to the other one. (Although ... this person owes me a few.)
I used to love writing, but that was before I threw away all the childish ideas I had about it. It was going to make me successful, it was going to allow me to quit my job, it was going to win me people who would love me, it was going to prove I was competent and not a loser. Nope, nope, nope, and nope.
I only have one (1) story idea now, and it was one my writer's group didn't think was particularly good. So, oh, well. Not much point even getting excited about it. But, this one stupid little thing is all I have left.
I recognize that I'm going to have to do something else with my time than think about someone who's never coming back. I will never see this person again. And that stupid little story is all I have to do.
I wasn't going to post it up on Wattpad until I finished my first rewrite, but I see I am going to have to start posting it. Otherwise, I'll never finish it. I'll just sit alone and mope and cry and pine and never, ever stop, if I don't have a posting schedule to stick to. Between that and finishing posting my old fan fic I quit posting, like, a year ago, some eighty chapters will take me over a year if I post a chapter a week.
And I'm going to need it. After all the horrible, horrible years I've had in my life, my chart is assuring me 2021 will be the WORST year ever. Originally it was going to be because Chi dumped me, but now even that isn't going to happen. It's just going to be me, sitting here waiting out the pandemic all alone.
I am determined not to have that horrible a year, and this is the only way I can figure out how to do it.
Of course, I could still ruin it, if no one reads my postings and I get as depressed over that as I did over nobody reading me on Medium. I'm going to have to learn how not to do that anymore. The only way I can figure out how to do that is to treat it as an exercise in self-acceptance. If the story bombs on Wattpad (which it probably will), then there's simply no hope for it, and I don't have any ideas for any more, so that will be it for me as a writer. I'll just have to finish posting it and find something else to do with the rest of my life.
I should note that this is not forecasted to happen. I'm supposed to write something that takes off in the years 2022-2025. And this is the only original thing I've got, so it must be this one.
But then again, I was supposed to touch base with Chi again before the end of this year, and we see how that's going. It would be so much easier to believe in the former if I could see that this actually came true. It sucks so much that every other time he was forecasted to show up, he actually spoke, or I could catch him sniffing around.
So, of course, this time I won't see him. This time was crucial for a reason, and if he doesn't make this meet, it's highly likely we'll just never see each other ever again in this life.
Since I can't count on anything I want to ever work out, all I can do is practice self-acceptance instead of depression or self-condemnation when things I wish for don't happen. Chi isn't coming around because I'm a bad person. I think I've proven that here. (It's a rare mistress who sends the guy back to a neglectful/semi-abusive wife three times. And I'm learning my lessons. Not in time to apologize to him for all of them, but I am.)
The last time we spoke, the last thing both of us said was, "I love you." And, I have to say, that's not a bad way to leave someone behind forever. A lot of people whose loved ones died wish they could have been as lucky.
So, WHEN (not if, but WHEN) my story bombs on Wattpad, I will just take that in stride. Just because other people don't think I'm good enough doesn't mean I have to think that. Just because other people reject me doesn't mean I have to reject myself. I've never done that before, so this is my chance to accomplish that before I die.
To that end, I dragged myself through the grocery store today, and while there I bought a lovely bunch of fall flowers. I came home and cleaned all the floors so it won't look so trashy in here. First throwing my back out and then being very depressed all summer, I have let the housework go to the point it was sort of like sitting in a dump.
It looks very nice in here now. So, while I'm sitting here by myself, working myself to death on something nobody's going to notice, I can enjoy a clean house and a lovely vase of flowers.
This place doesn't look half bad when it's clean, really. I have all these battery-operated lights everywhere and a tiny little fountain, so it's pretty cool. All I have to do is wait for Christmas lights to come out and I can replace the strand on the ceiling that burnt out. The little neighbor boy upstairs always says it looks like paradise down here. WHEN I clean.
I may not be able to stop myself from thinking about Chi and feeling sad (well, I guess that's guaranteed, since the story was inspired by all this), but at least I will have something to do. I wish I could come up with something better, but I can't, and I have to get the stupid story done just in case the astrology is right on this one, so here goes.
If anyone does read this, feel free to hit the contact page and write me. It gets lonely here during the ol' pandemic.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on October 8, 2020 at 9:25 PM|
I was in so much better a mood when I started that last post. For a short moment, I could see my life as so much better than I've been seeing it, and I could feel happy. But, I had to be somewhere, and I had to stop writing, and I couldn't get back to it, and ...
I had to go back to work. And I was there all by myself. And it was like that for three days. And my days were d-r-a-i-n-i-n-g. And I dragged myself home, and I was all alone.
And I would remember dragging through the door drained every night when I was married, and having my wonderful husband to come home to. No matter how shitty my day was, when I got home he would be there, and whatever else I had to do, I'd get home and the lights would already be on, and he would be there to hug me and greet me and be so glad I was home, and we'd be making dinner and talking about whatever video we put on, or whatever he'd written that day. Or whatever happened during my day.
Or I'd get home first and I'd be in the shower, and halfway through my shower, he'd be there pulling the shower curtain back to greet me with a kiss. And I would know that whatever shit I had dragged myself through that day, this was the reason. And if I didn't feel like going to the gym or jogging or spending hours making a healthy raw diet or whatever it was I had to do, doing those things would help me stay healthy and this was why I wanted to stay healthy.
For the first time in my life, I had a home. I had a real home, and something wonderful at the end of the day to look forward to.
Now I drag myself home and I'm drained and there's nothing happy there. I'm all alone. And I have the memory of years ago when I came home and there was a reason for all this that was happy, and goodness was always waiting and I was grateful. Now I go to work and it's draining, and I come home and it's draining, and everything takes it out of me and nothing puts anything back.
And I just have to sit here and remember that it all used to be different. And I'm old, so it won't be anymore.
And of course, I also remember that if things had gone differently with Chi, it didn't have to be this way.
(Of course, I know that isn't true. I understand now that he isn't well enough for having him to come home to, to be anything but a problem. How could that be, when a person--*plink!*--is completely unaware of their own feelings the living instant they sense you aren't on the same page? How could that be if they start putting themselves down the living instant you disagree? How could that be if they immediately defer to you, pretend they're okay, and then spend the next five years growing resentful, and then they talk about it to complete strangers while pretending to you that everything's fine? And they're depressed all the time, but you don't know it until everything blows sky high and ruins your life? That is not something to come home to that you can count on. That is not something that will make you happy. But with a person like this, it's highly probable.)
But this person was all I had. And now I have no one.
And on nights when I come home from yet another blah day, this really isn't helpful to me. At all. Neither is remembering the days that were so much better than this.
I'm exhausted. And it's like, What's the point? Even though I can appreciate that so much has gone right for me that hasn't/doesn't go right for so, so many other people ... it still isn't good enough.
And that's why I still, still, still, STILL
need to grow up from childhood.
As a tiny naked baby, two-year-old, five-year-old, you can't do A-N-Y-T-H-I-N-G for yourself. Including having feelings of the emotional fullness of just being alive.
Picture this. The baby lies alone in its crib. It wakes up; but no one comes. It feels hungry; but no one comes. The baby wets itself and cries; but no one comes.
When no one comes, the baby can't do anything. All it can do is lie there, feel empty and miserable, and cry.
Only a baby waits for a parent to come into the room and fill it up with good feelings. The rest of us can get up ourselves.
Normally, I hate conservatives. I really do. They insist that every person is basically all alone in the world, and should not get anything they don't work for themselves. The rich, of course, are completely free to exploit people, but the poor person is completely on his own. This attitude totally ignores the fact that some places, there are no jobs anymore. Some people had shitty rotten childhoods with shitty rotten schools and no money and they can't "better themselves" without some help. Some people got evicted and now they're on a downward slide of no home = no job = no opportunity to get their hands on money = no money = no home. Racism plays a part. Conservatives ignore all of this, and I hate that.
However, it would seem that the Universe, not materially but emotionally, is conservative.
We may actually need people to help us materially in life, but emotionally and spiritually we're supposed to be evolving into strong, single, solitary people who can do everything we need emotionally for ourselves.
We're not supposed to remain a baby in a crib, utterly emotionally bereft unless our parent comes in in the morning, croons a happy good morning, and picks the baby up. When we're babies, someone else coming into the room is the sunshine that lights our world. Without them, there is no sunshine. Without them, there is nothing.
But when we're adults, we're responsible for everything in our lives, all by ourselves. We're supposed to provide the meaning, we're supposed to provide the happiness, we're supposed to provide the purpose, we're supposed to provide the energy, all and everything we need, with no other people, no help at all.
We can't be waiting around for someone else to come along and fill us up. We are supposed to fill ourselves up with ourselves, and not with someone else.
Now: This guy was supposed to come back. EVERY time I do a card reading, it STILL says that. And this agrees with the astrology. But, you know what?
Even if there once was a "soul contract." Even if we really did plan all this before we were born, as some spiritual traditions suggest. Even if it really is reflected in the stars, as astrology teaches. Even if this is when it was originally supposed to be, and this is why I can't do a card reading that doesn't say this:
IT DOESN'T HAVE TO HAPPEN.
This is life on planet Earth. Anything can go wrong. OK, so something happened, and now it's all off. Maybe they went back to counseling. Maybe they got back together. Maybe nothing ever changed, and he's so beaten he's going to just go belly-up and they're going to spend the rest of their relationship in stagnation. Sure looks that way, doesn't it? It doesn't matter. I last heard from him three years ago; he never came back; it's over. Period. The end.
(For their sakes, I hope they got back together. Who wants to spend twenty-five years and then the whole rest of their life in miserable stagnation with some person they're afraid to leave, putting on an act for the fam?)
But, you know what? It isn't my business anymore. If he doesn't come back--and he hasn't, and it's almost the end of the year--to make it my business again, it's not my business. I'm alone with work and chores and that's my life, and that's what my business is. It's my only business from now on.
The fact is, I am alone. I'm fifty-two. Healthy, compatible people aren't there. It doesn't look as if anyone ever will be again. I am not a baby in a crib.
I am not supposed to be utterly dependent emotionally on other people. There ARE no other people. And when we're in the nursing home at 87, not able to do very much but sit, contemplate, and wait to die, most of them don't have other people, either.
I'm supposed to learn to fill myself up with myself, not collapse emotionally because no one is here.
If all people could do is collapse without others, there'd be a lot of people unable to do anything, feel happy, accomplish anything at all, as long as they were alone. And that's not the way humans are supposed to be. We're supposed to evolve from emotionally helpless babies to completely healthy, emotionally self-sufficient adults.
The fact is, I have to do this work even if the cards are still right and the guy shows up. Because I know that even if he did show up, he's still not ready, and he's gone again by the first of the year. And I'm alone a-n-y-w-a-y. So I will STILL have to do this work.
Chances are, the guy is gone forever anyhow.
So why not just forget this person, and skip straight there?
This is an awful weight, because I have no energy with which to tackle it. But I have to, because there's simply no other choice. How is a person supposed to do this, with no energy and pretty much no outlook for anything that's much good from now on? All I have to look forward to is work, chores, aging, and the nursing home. There's nothing much positive there to work with.
But, I have to anyway. Oh, well.
This is why I scoured the astrology for so long and hung on and tried so hard not to give up on him. Because I tried to find other people, and he did show up three times before when he was "supposed" to, and I hoped I'd find another makeshift family eventually, but other people never worked out and they never worked out and they never worked out and they never worked out. And now it's covid 19, so who can even meet anybody? Who can even go anywhere?
And who would want to meet me? I'm so sick of life, and so sick of disappointment, and so sick of people, I have nothing to offer anyone anymore.
If I knew I was completely alone in life forever more, and might as well never bother remembering anyone from the past ever again, because that's all over and all it does is make me sad, and I just had to fill my own life and thoughts up completely on my own, what would I even come home from this draining job and do?
How could I even come home from shitty days like these and feel happy at all? Since I pretty much do expect nothing from life now. And there's nothing at home but more work.
(I mean, really. Who could realistically expect anything much from life after the way all this shit turned out?)
I'm not going to buoy myself up on silly childish daydreams about how I'm going to be An Author someday. I know those things don't happen. Dreams like that give a person a lot of energy, but when they don't come true they cost more energy and happiness than they were ever worth. That's not a good way to try to power yourself through life.
What is? THAT is the question.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on October 5, 2020 at 12:10 AM|
If you're going through any life crisis, I heartily recommend getting your hands on books and reading as much about the world as you can.
Not only does it matter to pick up anything you can about your specific issue/s (BPD? Codependent? Drug abuse? I don't care if it is depressing, you have an obligation to yourself to find out all about it you can), but reading true work about social issues can have unexpected benefits.
Take, for instance, https://www.amazon.com/Evicted-Poverty-Profit-American-City/dp/0553447459/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=evicted+book&qid=1601828353&sr=8-2" target="_blank">this book. Any idiot who truly believes "poor people are just lazy and don't want to work and that's the whole problem" isn't allowed to speak to me ever again unless and until they read this book. The stories in here will break your heart.
But, besides making me deeply angry at idiot conservatives who don't read or listen but believe they know it all, what did reading this do for my mental health?
Well ... I had always thought the simple solution was that people need to get paid more. And that is part of it, but I never, ever realized how exploitative the system we have of landlords and renting is in this country. These assholes collect rent in their old clothes and hide their jewelry and drive their oldest cars and plead poverty to the residents, while they're actually multimillionaires with condos in Florida who take several vacations a year.
They charge rent equal to nice new apartments in good areas of the city for dilapidated housing in ghettos, where the plumbing doesn't work and they just blame the renter rather than fixing the plumbing. Why? People are so desperate for housing that it's easy to evict them and find somebody else to charge more rent to, and go on living like kings off housing you sure wouldn't want your grandma living in, or anyone else, for that matter.
This book follows the perfectly awful things that happen to people who get evicted in this way, and reading it I suddenly realized how very, very, very lucky I am. I had my problems establishing my career, but it could have been SO much worse if I had ever gotten evicted. I mean, I knew that, but even I didn't know this stuff went on.
And it hit me: These people all had friends and family, and it didn't matter.
I have been living my whole life as if only relationships mattered and nothing else.
When the truth is, I have been incredibly, incredibly blessed.
I now see how close to the top of society I really am. I have had a lot of the problems of these people, but because of the accident that I was born white and not black, I got to struggle with the same problems in a much better environment.
Good schools with good, caring teachers saved me, even when I had a mentally ill mother at home and was so bereft of love as a little child that every few years I fell in love with a new teacher. If only people at home acted like my teachers did!
I was the pariah of the entire school, laughed at and picked on, but at least I had good instruction and teachers who made sure I knew I was capable at something. And I didn't go home to food insecurity, a falling-down house where the sinks and toilet didn't work, or the hot water couldn't be used because it put out carbon monoxide and the landlord wouldn't fix it, and we were terrified of getting put out if we complained too much.
And my family may have been mentally ill, but at least they were solidly middle class. They may have been far too harsh with me about chores and grades, but at least I made the grades that got me into college. A kid with a troubled family needs these minimum, minimum things if they're ever going to fight their way to better emotional health.
And better emotional health = better functioning on the job and better functioning in society. Because I could read, I picked up the mental health materials we had lying around our house and I goddamned learned something from them ... even when my mother couldn't. Because I learned something from all I've read, I see why the people in these books couldn't come back from some of the same issues my mother had, and how her caste in society has protected her even though she has the same minimal functioning as these individuals, for the same reasons--poor parenting, heritable mental illness in the family, childhood sexual abuse.
Instead of being trapped in a blinding, grinding cycle of poverty, disaster, disaster, poverty, I was able to work through my problems. It's taken me fifty-two years, but I could do it. I could not have if any of my periods of unemployment had led me into these people's situations.
Even when it looked hopeless, even when I was terrified no one would ever hire me again and I'd be homeless (and I was girding my loins to do that rather than ever go home again), even when it looked like I'd never, ever have any stability and I'd better look out because I was about to be poor for good, I was actually making it. I just couldn't see it. Now I read stuff like this, and I see how close to the top I really am, even though all that has stood out to me for the past ten years is relationship, relationship, relationship.
When I got married, I thought it finally proved I was normal. Because no child who has no friends ... gets laughed at and picked on all day ... then goes home to a screeching, angry, mentally ill mother who demands you run the vacuum right now or she's going to hit you with a flyswatter ... and tells you she wishes your one little friend were her daughter and not you, because she set the table without being asked ... ever feels like a person who's an okay human being who will ever have a normal, loving relationship with anyone.
And then I got married, and I had friends for a while, and it was SO marvelous. And then it was gone again.
So of course it was all that mattered.
Why is it that the one need you have that isn't met, is always the only thing that matters? If we could just be happy with what we do have and ignore the thing we don't have, how much better off we would be. Always we assume that one thing would solve all our problems, when (at least in my case), it would probably lead to worse problems.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on September 26, 2020 at 5:25 PM|
Me, myself, and I
That's all I've got in the end
That's what I found out
And there ain't no need to cry
Took a vow that from now on I'm gonna be my own best friend
So: Mars hits the yod Saturn in four more days. Then it hits one last time at Christmas. The end of the year was scheduled to be the end of the relationship (for about 3.5 more years). Of course, without a beginning, there's no new end. Just the old end ... three years ago.
So of course this weekend I ask myself: Do I really expect to hear from this guy again in the next four days? Or the week after that?
I have to say: No.
I mean, c'mon. Really? A person whose face I haven't seen in five years? Someone I haven't spoken to in three years?
What's saddest about this for me, I think, is the end of any idea of being with someone close, someone who's like family, someone I love who loves me. Precious good times with a dear friend as close to you as breathing. I think this is the end of that for this lifetime.
I don't expect to meet anyone else. (I mean, it's covid-19. How am I supposed to meet anybody? I'm afraid to go anywhere!)
But it's more than that. I'm getting older, and my mind and body are aging. I'm not a young chick anymore. I have absolutely ZERO libido, and I'm a fat, dumpy old lady body type who doesn't have the energy, stamina, or lack of aches and pains that I used to have. I'm not at that stage of life anymore.
I'm no longer a young girl looking forward to getting married and setting up a home. I did that already. I have a home.
All I'm looking at is doing all the chores in it by myself ... growing old in it by myself ... having my first heart attack, my first stroke, or my first cancer diagnosis ... in it ... by myself.
I've already had all manner of sickness all by myself the last seven years I've spent alone. Believe me, you haven't lived until you've spent the night stuck in an awkward position on your bed, unable to move because your back hurts so much, and no one can hear you screaming and you just have to grit those teeth and get yourself moved by yourself. Or throwing up and having diarrhea so often you're weak as a kitten, wondering if you should really be calling an ambulance, and struggling into a pair of adult diapers so you don't mess the bed.
At least we have Grubhub now. That solves the problem of being too sick or immobile to cook for oneself. (If you have enough money, that is.)
I used to have dreams of what I might want a new life with someone else to look like. But slowly, they've been ground down by the reality of what life with Chi would have looked like: Several years of "Yes, dear," and the appearance of happiness ... until the reality of him getting depressed and moving out happened. Of course, now I know about hideous codependency, so it would probably go more like this: If we were disagreeing and not getting along, I could probably relax and trust that that was the real him.
But if things looked happy--!
If everything looked peaceful and OK and I was happy and it looked like he was happy ... I would never be able to relax.
Always, always, I would be thinking: Is it the truth? Is he for real? Or does he just not know he's unhappy yet? Is he unhappy and hiding it? Is he complaining about me to people across town he hardly knows? Is he telling the truth? Is he telling the truth??
I think I've written this before, but living with a codependent with NO sense at all of his own self would be like Dr. McCoy's immortal line from ST IV: "Pardon me, but do we have any way of knowing if this is the real you?"
And nobody wants to live like that.
The truth is, my life has taught me over and over and over and over that people cannot be trusted. Even the deeply good people who genuinely don't want to hurt anyone are sick, too sick to behave healthily toward themselves and you in a relationship.
My husband wasn't like that. But that relationship, like the all-too-few good ones I have had in my life, was all too short. I envy Rory her good, lifelong friendships. I don't have a single one and I never will.
The truth is that all relationship exists for only one purpose: the transmission of painful, painful, painful, painful lessons. Even my marriage existed to teach me the painful lesson of discovering I could handle a lot of hard, hard stuff essentially by myself.
And I have to say that I am very, very, veryvery tired of painful, painful, painful, painful lessons. It's nice to have astrology to give you a heads-up, but really. Who enters what looks like a blissful love affair expecting or wanting to have their heart ripped out, or the most malignant cancer known after less than five years of marriage?
And yet that's what happens to me, every time.
I have about had it with painful, painful, painful, painful lessons. Who wants to stick their neck out for another one of these at my age??
Not I, said the little red hen.
If he had've shown up, I could have had hope. Only the person most unwilling to tolerate the pain of his own emotional problems would show the fuck up again after three years and make some desperate stab at changing things, however clumsy and inelegant. If I had seen that, I have the road map for the rest of it. But if you don't even see that, well ...
There's no hope.
As if there ever is. You can't make another person get well.
I can't save Chi, any more than I could save my mentally ill mother. I hung onto hope for Mom for a long time. If she just had've gone to therapy and really, really tried, I could have hung in there. I can and will do anything for someone who's really trying, really trying to change.
But most people aren't. And I'm tired.
I'm not putting up with any more of it.
It's all very sad. The saddest thing is looking back at the all-too-fleeting good times I had with other people and knowing that's all in the past.
All I ever wanted in life was to be part of a good, loving, healthy family.
One thing I can say for sure: Success doesn't really matter that much. Neither does more money than you really need. So what if I ever write that book and it sells? It will still be the same me. The same little old lady, dying alone in the same wheelchair and hospital bed in the same nursing home, all by myself.
Well. I'm constructed rugged and well-equipped for a life by myself. Really, except for about fifteen years there, that's all I've ever had. (And the fifteen years I'm talking about were not growing up.)
The only way to go forward is to just stop looking back at what used to be. I'm not that girl anymore. I'm a whole different person now, and that person has a solitary trail from this day forward.
Emphasis on the word, forward.
I drift back and forth between being so, so sad at what I won't have in my life anymore, and trying to figure out how to just put thoughts of all that behind me so they don't make me sad anymore. I mean, why not just live in the present, with what there is, instead of being that girl who still expects relationship to other people right around the corner like it was in my twenties? It's not.
Most old people in our society are alone. I have to say that a life alone, in my tiny little place, doing chores by myself and scratching away at obscure writings no one will ever give a shit about just doesn't look very happy compared to what I used to have. But I have no choice now but to just make it as cozy as I can and be thankful that I've been delivered from any more sick relationships with any more sick people. Being by myself doing chores is a LOT better than a hideous divorce when I'm seventy-one.
One way I look at it is, the decision not to ever come back is Chi's decision. And I am not to decide anything for him. HE is to decide his life for him. So I say, "I accept your decision." If things are still bad over there, I wish this outcome wasn't the truth. I pray it's not the truth. But chances are, it's the truth.
I'm so, so sorry about it. I would rather have had it the other way, but who knows? Astrology isn't set in stone. For all I know, they went back to marriage counseling and they're fine now! (Their charts bet heavily against it, however.)
The thing is, you can't live the rest of your life in sorrow about something that happened three years ago. If Chi chooses not to show up now, it's highly, highly unlikely he'll choose to show up ever, ever again. I mean, sure, now and then you hear of people who get back with their high school sweetheart they haven't seen in thirty years, and voila! They're the one!
But, come on. That almost never happens. And it's important to live in reality. If I don't hear from Chi now, what the fuck is the likelihood I ever will four years from now, when we haven't seen each other in nine years and haven't spoken in seven??
So, if Chi chooses not to come back now, more than likely it's the very, very end. After all, where are all the transits where Rory confronts An Inconvenient Truth about her marriage?
The next four months. So, if I don't see him, the only thought any person can live with long term is, "I accept your decision."
Boy, this is the saddest thing I've ever done. It's different when someone dies. But, there's nothing else I can do.
Chi, I accept your decision.
And that's that.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on September 19, 2020 at 7:15 PM|
As so often happens, I went on YouTube and the first suggested video related to a question on my mind:
Should you wait for this person or not?
The card pile I picked said:
You have a fantasy of this person that's not the reality of this person. (Yeah ... I figured that out already.) And the reason you have it is you don't have faith in yourself to be able to put the things in your life that you need, and you're trying to rely on this person to do that for you. But the fact is you really can do everything you need for yourself, and you need to just put this relationship down for a while while you work on being everything you need for yourself instead of being aggrieved that others are not providing it for you. Maybe once you get something accomplished for yourself, you can go back to the relationship, but not now.
Yep. Look at our transits ... same story.
Apparently I AM supposed to be able to achieve something by myself.
Sure doesn't look like it from here.
I had to think, though. Who doesn't think they can be, do, or have anything at all without some bigger, stronger person they look up to? A little child, that's who. Who else is lost without Mommy or Daddy and if those caretaking figures are gone, sinks into utter despair? A little child. A tiny, tiny girl who's helpless to do anything for herself.
Yeah, growing out of codependency and ACOA needs to be done here, but he isn't the only person who needs to learn how to grow up.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on September 11, 2020 at 9:30 PM|
So Nu Mindframe put up her September readings this week. Yup. Here are these predictions AGAIN.They're all about a relationship that broke up despite good intentions on the part of those involved to build something together. Because something was standing in the way, the people didn't have the tools to build the relationship ... and now, here the relationship is again. How we had a separation and it was a good thing, because the same cycle would have repeated if we'd gotten back together in 2017.
And THAT'S why I said no three years ago ... because I looked at the transits and saw that very sad story played out.
Good grief ... How many times am I going to hear this? Mars hits Saturn again on the 30th, so ...
It's kind of weird hearing this now after all this time. For years now I've thought it would be THE happiest day I've had in a long time. And, when I saw him show up on the 28th, I was thrilled ... for about ten minutes.
Now that I'm being told it's right around the corner ... I don't know. All these years I clung to the fantasy of what I hoped would happen. I still needed to be that much-beloved younger child-person who finally had someone bigger, someone stronger, a family, someone to lean on.
But, now that I know what's really over there: a codependent who gets lost in everyone else's feelings and doesn't know his own, one who covers his feelings with oil paint instead of being able to reflect and know what he wants, one who instinctively alters his own feelings to match those of everyone around him because he thinks approval and love are the same thing ...
One who says, "Whatever you want, dear," doesn't even know he's unhappy for five years, then pushes the awareness down for five more years, then when he finally acknowledges that he's unhappy, he resents you because YOU "made him do it" ...
Ohhhh, boy. For the seventeen years I knew the person before all this happened, he looked so different. And then I believed it for, like, three more years.
Ohhhh, but now I know.
I also know this person has the stuff to change. This person, unlike my mentally ill mother, has the stuff to do better. However, I know this does not happen now under any circumstances. This person has three more years of hard work to do. He doesn't get his good emotional work transits for another three years or so. If I see him, I'm gonna get dumped. NO doubt about it.
Besides, although I longed to get the chance to discuss this with the person for all these years ... if he shows up this time, she finds out.
We do not get out of this without her finding out this time.
And that's some scary shit. It isn't scary in fantasy when it's three years away, but when it's looming up in three weeks, and you might have all this responsibility for other people's welfare placed in your hands ... that. Is. Sobering.
(I wish Donald Trump took his responsibilities with half the solemnity and responsibility I feel right now.)
I know why Rory is the way she is. I know she isn't a mean person, and I don't hate her. I know she's a wounded person, and that's why she does what she does. But, she needs a fire lit under her ass if she's ever going to wake up, and make no mistake about it, these transits are the last time in her life she's going to have to wake the fuck up in this matter. She had good ones before, and due to the attitudes of both Rory and therapist, these opportunities got wasted.
She needs the wakeup call, and I'm the wakeup call.
This will not be a pleasant duty. Oh, for all the times I fantasized about chewing her out back in the day! But I didn't know what reality was at that time ... and now I do. Being the instrument of someone else's broken heart is not really what I want to do.
Then again ... if she doesn't wake up, she's going to be the instrument of her own broken heart.
Ai, ai, ai. What a mess if this really happens. What a mess, what a mess, what a mess. She's going to hate me, his kids are going to hate me, everyone who knows him is going to hate me.
And I don't even want this guy! Not the way he is now. The way he is now, he can't have a real relationship with anyone ... because he doesn't have enough access to his real self to avoid going a looong way down a road that will make him unhappy ... before he even wakes up and realizes he's unhappy!
This is one toxic and dangerous trait that's probably the worst you can be with in a relationship. Because it ruins everything silently for years and years while it looks like everybody's happy. And HE KNOWS IT'S HAPPENING ... but he won't tell you.
This would never have happened with my late husband and me. He knew himself too well, and he always put up his dukes and fought for his happiness. On the surface, that looks like a terrible thing in a relationship, because it often leads to fighting.
But, while we're fighting, I know you and you know me. We are under NO illusions about What Really Is. Because if we don't know what's really true about our relationship and about the other person, we can't possibly, possibly make good decisions for it. Ever.
I'm pretty sure I'm not going to fuck up and fall for some indication from this guy that he's really going to leave or really ready to leave. So far these charts have never steered me wrong, and they are elaborately clear: THIS GUY'S NOT READY YET. STAY THE FUCK AWAY.
So my job, should all these predictions be true, is clear. I am not allowed to try to poach this guy, or to entertain any thoughts of him leaving the marriage at this time.
I am allowed to do one thing and one thing only: Push the system toward greater health.
That's going to be the tricky part, because I won't have any specifics until I get there, and then I'm going to have to think on my feet. All I can say is that I have an idea right now what "greater health" looks like, and that would be: Me moving on for the next three years alone. Me impressing upon this person how very, very very important it is that this individual find a therapist who specializes in getting stuck codependents unstuck, and overcome his allergy to learning about his condition. And leaving him once again in the care of his wife, who's going to get one nasty wakeup call if her transits over the next year are at all accurate.
All I can do for the greater health of this situation is share everything I've been given to understand about it over these five and a half years. If she knew what I know, no doubt she'd find herself a whole lot more willing to apply herself. If she does not, the consequences will be dire, and I won't be anywhere around when they happen. I took a look at her transits for her late seventies. I wouldn't want to live those motherfuckers for all the whiskey in Ireland.
This really is the last chance these two people have to Wake The Fuck Up. How he does at the end of his life depends on the groundwork that gets laid now. Does he Get The Fuck Well Or Not? The best thing I can do here is explain this in no uncertain terms. This is one reason I've elected to show my work here on this website. If she wants to know, she can come and read. So can he.
If these warnings come to pass, I've got a big crunch time of tough work ahead these last few months of the year. Then it's time for me to sling my pack over my shoulder and trudge off down the road alone again. And they've got Some Big Time Work to do. Biggest time.
Apparently, I'm going to be writing.
My occult sources tell me I'll have quite the story to tell. It could very well be a harrowing one. When faced with the horrible specter of some guy's wife or kids accosting me in a parking lot or over the phone, I'd almost as soon let this one pass.
Let's see if any of it's true or not.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on August 29, 2020 at 4:25 AM|
Well. I was beginning to doubt very seriously that I would ever
write this, but ...
HERE HE IS. HE'S BACK.
Or, at least, he's lurking in a way I can definitely see it's him.
If you scroll down the blogs, you will see where in March I had a frequent visitor here who was apparently
too close to where this guy lives for comfort. But, with the visitor tracker on here, people can be ahywhere.
When I send my therapist a link to something I've written and she visits, she shows up MILES from where
she actually is. If I visit from the coffee shop, my location shows three miles from the coffee shop. I have
two visitors I'm in contact with who show up right where they tell me they live. But when I log in and type
this blog, say, from home ... "home" shows up as being at San Francisco Honda in fucking San Francisco,
when I live on the East Coast! (WTF?)
I mostly quit posting on Medium. They won't curate me. I had one article that made $300, and everything
else bombed. It was terribly depressing, and not worth the time anymore. But I do read on there, and I
comment frequently. I'm following the election (who isn't?) and I've learned a lot from the articles on there.
I have 1000 followers on there just from commenting on articles. (You don't get paid for those.) I post many
Medium articles on Facebook (and get attacked by many conservatives for what I choose to post. I have to
thank these people for the many arguments we get into ... it's really contributed to the novel I'm working
But ... you can see who follows you and who claps on anything you write. He has a profile on there,
which you can definitely tell is him. I won't say how, but there is NO doubt who it is. I have been
watching that profile for a while, and it has remained inactive.
Until yesterday. Yesterday, Chi's profile came to life, and he did one thing. Clap on a comment I made a
couple of days ago. Where I can see him.
What are the odds that the only thing he's going to do on Medium is clap on something I wrote? In the
month of August, right when I was told to expect this person?
It's contact, when I was told to expect it. Therefore, I AM NOT CRAZY.
(For which I'm grateful. I was beginning to wonder.).
I did hit "follow" and follow him, so when he logs on again, he'll see he has one follower. I post under
"A. Nonymous," but it is my photo. He'll see it's me. Not the least because my Decision Making 101 article
and some others are right there for anyone to find. With minimal trouble, he'll be able to see that: a.) It's
definitely me, and b.) Exactly what my thought process is about all this and why. (Since my mysterious
visitor from his neighborhood hasn't been here since my March post on the subject.)
Now. Having said that:
Just because this small signal happened, doesn't mean anything else does. I'm quite clear after all this study
that my control over this is precisely zero-zero-zero. He's going to do what he's going to do, whatever that
is. Could be precisely zero-zero-zero.
But I know, from four long years of studying the astrology and almost as long studying cards, what
Whatever Mystic Forces There Are In The Universe are betting happens next. And I think I'm getting
So ... Is this it? Will There Be Any More??
Tune in next ... well, I don't know when. But I do know when our most crucial Mars-Saturn dates are. Scroll
down the blogs if you want to know.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on August 22, 2020 at 12:10 AM|
If you check out the Yods tab, you will see that I've done quite a lot of work on what my Saturn squares mean and why they are at the tip of my yod, stubbornly obstructing progress in a writing career.
But here's something I never figured out, that I only did just now because I was studying the Mars conjunct to the tip of our double interlocking yods.
I purchased this Counseling for Astrologers book, by a professional astrologer who's also a licensed therapist, natch. In it, she recommends, when trying to figure out what a transit to some formation in the chart means, going backwards in time to look at times in the life when the yod was being triggered in the past, only the querent didn't know anything about it. What was going on in the life?
With where my yod is, nothing much important hits it until this Uranus transit that I write about extensively on the Yods tab. I mean, every year fast-moving planets FLY by and hit Saturn--the Sun, Moon, Venus, etc., but these as I've just said FLY through. They're only there a day or so, and they really don't do much. Nothing much happened with my yod until the Uranus transits, as I've said.
The last time anything really hit the yod, Mars was sitting opposite Saturn, in the "boomerang" position, around September 2008. What was happening in my life at that time?
I had two elderly relatives, a great aunt and her adopted special needs daughter, who have been a problem in the family for a very long time. Both of them are mentally ill, the daughter has always been handicapped, and as the mother got older, she became unable to care for the daughter. Being mentally ill, they found acceptance of the fact that they were going to have to leave their family home, a farm in the country, because their physical limitations had become too great, even more difficult than most elderly people would find it. The daugher would act out by threatening her mother with a butcher knife, pushing her and breaking her arm, etc.
I knew nothing of this, because as kids we were protected from this knowledge, and then I went off to college. In college, I heard that my aunt had had a total bipolar breakdown, been in a mental institution, and that family had swooped in from the south, sold the farm, and carted them off to parts unknown. We missed Aunt Jean, but nobody was in contact with these members of the family and nobody knew exactly what had happened or where these people had gone.
At this time in my life, I got a phone call. My aunt had gotten somebody to move them and they were back, renting a little farm house in the country again. Unbeknownst to me, their shenanigans had caused a lot of trouble for family caring for them in South Carolina where they had gone, and now they were running into trouble because my cousin would fall down and not be able to get up, the rescue squad had to be called, my aunt was not taking her bipolar medication, etc.
What ensued was that they conned me into signing their power of attorney ("so I could see to their funeral arrangements"), and once my name was on the dotted line, I got hit with all this stuff. Here I was, finally with my first idea for an original novel I was excited about, and I pretty much had to give it up because these people required care. Unfortunately, they didn't want to move into assisted living, which they most surely needed, and these years to come were studden with arguments and fights and a lot of tears by me, as my husband kept writing but I had family caregiving.
And then, of course, my husband was stricken with brain cancer and in November of 2013, I was widowed.
Now, what did these people have to do with my yod? Because I had thought the yod was about writing and about Chi. No ... here were my aunt and cousin.
I now realize that the yod is about me letting codependent enmeshed relationships take over my life and obstruct my life purpose--what I really wanted to do, writing.
If you look at my chart, there is a square from Neptune to the ascendant (or "rising sign"). I had paid so much attention to the yod that I had never looked that up. When I did, what did I find? That aspect talks about your parents putting you on the wrong path in life, so that your career is about what they wanted and not what would make YOU happy.
And that's true. I didn't have any self as a child. I was tap dancing and struggling, trying to keep Mom happy because she was so volatile, trying to make sure my family was PROUD of me, because as a child that was all I experienced of love. I got approval when I did what made the family look good and Mom and Dad feel validated because I was Just Like Them; I didn't learn what I liked or what I wanted or what would make me happy at all.
By the time I realized in college that I was on a path that wouldn't make me happy, I was stuck. I had already borrowed money for school and I had no idea how to change direction. When I asked myself what I liked and what I wanted, there was no answer. But I was going to graduate, and I needed to be able to support myself and pay off the loans, because going home again to lean on family and figure things out was NOT going to happen. In fact, I've had to cut my mother and most family members out of my life, and I find myself pretty much alone in the world now. I needed a career that would make money, because I had NO one else to turn to.
As time went on, I began to figure out what I really wanted to do: Writing. But I had no confidence. For the longest time I wrote and tried to find a way to publish fan fiction, because I had no confidence in my ability to come up with and write an original story. Well, of course, that didn't work. The era in which Ann Crispin broke into publishing with Star Trek fan fiction and became a bestselling author was long gone. Media publishing didn't want us anymore ... they wanted published professionals only.
At last I met and married my husband, and talking with him gave me the idea for my first original novel. And as soon as I was all excited and starting on that, what happened?
My yod got triggered, and the aunt and cousin came into my life and derailed me. And my husband got sick, and blahblahblahblahblah.
Basically, I was getting all enmeshed with other people's problems and getting sidetracked into caregiving.
Now, in the aunt's and cousin's case, I can maybe be forgiven. I didn't know what I was getting into. And, these people really were infirm and they really did need caregiving! Unfortunately, once I got roped in, I found myself very, very sorry, and there was no escape.
And in my husband's case, he really was ill, too, and he really did need caregiving. And I didn't feel it as a burden or a chore. My husband was the one person who really loved me the way I really am. He loved me the way a family is supposed to, and he supported me and helped me find my way. As you can see if you click the link, I would never--could never--have written that story without him.
But: Why did I sidetrack myself in these relationships to begin with?
Because I was still a sad, lonely child looking for a real family. I had never had one. I never got any of the bonding with parents and school friends that other kids get growing up. I was still looking for evidence that something wasn't really wrong with me, since all while growing up I saw that other kids made friends and had loving family and I didn't. I saw that there was incest in my family and my mother was really mentally ill and there was nothing but chaos in our home that nobody else saw. I grew up believing that something was just wrong with me, and I was too fat and no one would ever really love me.
So when I was married and we had a good relationship, I was ecstatic not only because of that, but because of what it meant. FINALLY, I had a stable relationship like other people. Actually, better than most other people's. I had friends! I WAS NORMAL!!!
And let me tell you, I had worked hard for it. The self-help books lining my shelves attest to that fact.
When the aunt and cousin came along, why did I accept? Because they were FAMILY. And I didn't know how crazy they were. I had a happy marriage; now maybe I could have some of my family back, too!
We had one dinner, ONE dinner we cooked for them over here like old times, and except for that, mostly it went to hell.
Basically, I was so hungry for love, bonding, connection, and relationship that any time a relationship that looked like it might work out appeared on my radar, I sacrificed my dream. Most of the time, just like with college, I really didn't know what I was walking into or what it would mean.
Even my relationship with my husband, you could consider enmeshed. It has to be one of the only relationships that was but didn't cause unhappiness. We always MEANT to branch out and have friends and other aspects of life, and he did get together with his grown sons and a friend of theirs, and we did do things like that, but mostly we didn't do the kinds of things we thought we were going to be able to do.
Life was just too hard. We owed too much money. We had to work too hard. And then the aunt and cousin happened. So, faced with too much work and not enough money, our life was pared down to the essentials: family care, work, writing, and each other. And he was all I had.
So when he died and all that was over ... I was devastated.
I tried to go back into writing again. And what did I do? Start a codependent enmeshed relationship with Chi. Because I was all alone, and my marriage hadn't grown me up into an adult. It left me still a lost little child alone in a department store, crying and scared and bewildered. I was still a sad little child desperate for bonding.
And I had known Chi for seventeen years, and I knew he was unhappy and we were compatible, and I investigated to see if he might be interested.
The only saving grace there is, astrology implies I was supposed to do this. We each needed waking up, and if I hadn't done this I would never have the idea for the novel I'm writing now.
But when I keep getting this advice to stay with the new me and not to fall back into the old me, to stay out of power and control, not to sink my teeth into Chi and try to YANK him out of his marriage, HERE'S WHY. if I do, he never gets well. I end up in yet ANOTHER enmeshed codependent relationship, and as soon as we're free to be together, I start getting these messages that sound like, "You feel like you have to choose between your career and your relationship." And when Neptune hits the tip of the yod in a few years (the years we finally move in together or get married), the bad manifestation of that is: "You've hooked up with a loser who thinks you're going to save him."
When the ONLY way out of codependency is DOING THE WORK YOURSELF.
Which is why, when I read our relationship reports all those years ago, I found myself zeroing in on those paragraphs, and because I have read about codependency and I know what an "enmeshed relationship" is, I could say, "Oh, no. This guy didn't get well and this is a codependent enmeshed relationship." Which ends VERY BADLY INDEED, according to more readings than just mine.
Now, be mindful, IT DOESN'T HAVE TO END THAT WAY. But if I stay that lost little child, so desperate for bonding and relationship that I'll latch onto anyone and do ANYTHING--anything but HEAL--that is how it will end up. And engineering this such that it DOES NOT TURN OUT THAT WAY, I needed supernatural and occult guidance to do, which is why you see Neptune in house three--psychic ability and the ability to learn astrology quickly--in my chart, and why I can read for us three triangle mates better than I can read for anyone else. Usually occultists can't read for themselves, only for other people.
So what the Saturn squares REALLY are in my chart, is this propensity to get into codependent enmeshed relationships in order to soothe the lonely, sad, "something's wrong with me" feelings of a long-ago little child who didn't get raised in healthy parental love because parents were mentally ill and absent in the home.
I really could be a writer, but I keep derailing myself into relationships where SOMEBODY NEEDS ME AND I CAN SAVE THEM instead. And that is what the Saturn squares at the tip of the yod really mean-- unhealthy attraction to saving people in a relationship, because of an unsatisfied need for symbiotic childhood bonding with an unconditionally loving and accepting parent.
And, boy, I'd better break myself of that QUICK. Because if he shows up again to "quiz" me on this, there's only one way to flip this healthy--and if I can't I had better RUN FOR MY LIFE--and there are a million ways to end up in Sick Relationship Quicksand that ends in a HORRIBLE divorce when we're seventy-one and eighty-one. Just like I've done my Whole Damned Life.
HOLY SHIT. HOLY FUCKING SHIT.
So: the question:
Is it true? Does this really happen??
We'll find out in the next three months. Tune in next ...
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on August 21, 2020 at 11:20 AM|
As I've said, I find it incredible that my fairy cards keep predicting, with durable and repeatable certainty as to the timing, that a.) this person makes contact again, b.) Rory finds out about it this time, and c.) we struggle with the lessons we are supposed to learn from it as detailed in the horoscope readings I so painstakingly looked up several years ago.
Every damn time I do one of these, I shuffle the cards telling myself: No way. No fucking way. I haven't even seen this guy's face in five years. I haven't heard from him in almost three. In three words,
HOW THE FUCK???
And yet, each time I do the Fairy Ring spread, we keep getting the same cards (even though I've become much better at dealing cards and I've figured out how to shuffle much better, and sometimes I'll just line them all back up in numerical order again and start over). Even the time I didn't realize I was missing cards from the deck, the messages worked out the same.
The Fairy Ring, as well as the astrology, allows one to work out timing. Astrology tells me the yods will be triggered from now til the end of December, but the cards tell me I'm going to hear from him anywhere from now until sometime in September (late September, probably), what happens happens, and he's gone again and it's all over by mid-November.
Well. Here's the test.
Is this shit for real, or what???
I really am glad that I have been led to the ability to do this, because this time has been really just horrible. I threw my back out, so I was pretty much immobile for a couple of weeks, and lack of exercise contributes to torpor for me. Political arguments and covid 19 have separated me, quite possibly permanently, from my writer friends, along with the fact that I have decided to just go it alone on this stupid novel from now on and not pursue publishing it. (It's based on all this.) Nobody in my writer's group likes the thing, so there's the extreme possibility it's just garbage.
In any case, as I know from my late husband's writing career, critical praise does not a career make. People have to love your book, and they pretty much have to hand sell it one to the other, because as I'm all too familiar with from 20+ years in writer's groups, without a degree in marketing and an advertising budget, most regular people struggling to write a book, publish it, and promote it around the demands of life and The Day Job, don't have the knowledge or the budget to make a book sell. And nobody can make a book sell that just doesn't appeal to people. Which, if you go by the reactions in group, this one doesn't.
Of course, the thing with writer's groups is they seem to attract only older folks. The people who have seen this manuscript are all over the age of seventy, and that may be my only saving grace.
In any case, it doesn't seem worth the work or the aggravation to try to find a publisher or to bother with self-publishing. (You should SEE the pain in the ASS others in my group have had with KDP, covers, Amazon ... stop me.) If it's a shitty story that will have no audience, none of that is worth it.
BUT, my horoscope assures me I CAN find writing success, and my lucky window starts in 2022. (If I survive the HORRIBLE year I am scheduled to have in 2021. We're talking MAJOR DEPRESSION here ... like I haven't been struggling with that since my husband passed away in 20-fucking-13.) I'll have a lot more faith in that if I see what I'm "supposed" to in the next four months. If I don't ... WHY would I ever believe the rest of it???
But, as of now, the novel doesn't seem worth a whole lot of struggle, work, and time. So, I'm going to finish the damn thing on my own, throw it up on Wattpad, and wait for it to bomb.
If it does, I don't really have any other ideas for stories, so I guess it's time to forget writing and just find some way more doable to spend any spare time and energy I have. I mean, I could volunteer against climate change and do more good for the planet than I'm doing here. Why waste my time anymore on something no one likes, no one wants, and no one needs?
BUT ... I'm grateful for the ability I've developed to read cards and astrology, because it's the only thing that gives me hope in an otherwise dead life. AFTER I get dumped again (which the cards tell me will be really depressing ... but, I DON'T HAVE TO REACT THAT WAY, since I can see WHY it's happening and what's likely to come after--those readings are a doozy, by the way!), the cards assure me I will have one DEAD year, during which I just have to be patient, keep plugging along, and endure, because better times will come. Not necessarily with Chi.
Better times with him are only going to happen if he can find a good, solid working attitude and overcome codependency and low self-worth. Otherwise he's just a chronic pathological liar who will ruin my life, and a loser who thinks I'm going to save him. (And I have to say, this dynamic was present at the very beginning when we first got together. It is very unhealthy. If it doesn't change ... well, I'm going to be one sorry puppy, and I had better avoid him like the PLAGUE. But, one of my jobs is to kick him in the seat about this, so ... we'll see if I get my chance or not.)
But better times are SUPPOSED to happen somehow with writing. I don't know; my writer's group sure as hell doesn't think so.
But, you know, without hope, human beings just wither and die. I mean, without hope, you're just getting up to go to work and pay bills to get up and go to work and pay bills. Your life puts money in the pocket of someone richer, and if you're alone and you don't have any loved ones or friends, what's the point?
In any case, I'm assured there IS a point, and that falling apart over all this is completely unnecessary.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on August 13, 2020 at 4:30 PM|
I am SICK of the SPAM comments I get on here,
so from now on commenting is disabled. No, I
am not here to help you sell your maid service
or your new CAPTCHA system. Buzz off.
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on August 11, 2020 at 8:20 AM|
OK, I just figured out why the influence I talked about last time is
considered active until December (when I'm scheduled to be
dumped again. Nifty, huh?) Turns out that, just like Uranus in 2018,
MARS GOES RETROGRADE AND STATIONS ITSELF OVER
SATURN, TRIPPING BOTH YODS, THRU DECEMBER. Oy. To be
exact, it passes over Mars on August 20, goes less than three
degrees past, then turns retrograde on September 10, comes within
6 minutes of my natal Saturn on September 30, then leaves retrograde
on November 15th. After this it will make one more pass over our yods,
hitting Saturn exactly on December 27 before bugging out and leaving
finally in the new year. It will be interesting to see if anything notable
happens on those dates, because the cards are SURE it will.
Also in astrology this week, I'm studying this
thing known as the "Venus Return Chart."
Here is his for this year, for those of you who
know anything about the Venus return chart in
astrology. Again, oy. If the chart won't display,
it will be on the "more" tab in the menu bar.
MARS IS COMING. (Oh, and I figured out what's wrong with the blog. NOW it's actually legible again!)
|Posted by The Thinking Other Woman on August 8, 2020 at 7:30 PM|
It's sort of been a creepy summer.
I have been getting card readings and card readings and card readings
telling me to expect to hear from A Certain Person. Whether I do them
myself, or I'm watching a video from my favorite card reader online
(check out Nu Mindframe on YouTube ... she's fantastic. I first found
her because she had a channel where she talked about psychological
issues in a way that made them SO understandable and SO relatable, I
thought she was a therapist! Turns out she isn't, she just has a bachelors
in psychology, but she is so down to earth she gives even Jerry the Wise
a run for his money. Then she started a tarot channel, and, well, I had to
watch that, too.)
Of course, I know from my long perusal of all our transits years ago that
we're about reaching the end of affair transits for a while. We've had a pile,
starting in October 2017, as I reported on the Yods tab, and running from
there all the way through the end of this year. But for ages and ages the tarot
was saying, Nahhh. Sorry, babe, this guy is GONE.
Um, not any more.
At first I believed I was just sad I'd never see him again and that's why the
cards were agreeing with this transit arc that predicts an affair resurgence,
with me being painfully DUMPED at the end of the year again just like I was
when this all started. You CAN affect what cards you get ... sometimes they
just show you what you expect to see. But good grief. For a couple of years
there I had hoped and hoped to see tarot readings that presaged some sort of
hope and NEVER got any, and now that I'm going, OK, this guy is gone for
good. I can just move on with my life, none of that crap is ever going to happen,
I can't do or see any reading that doesn't inform me to the contrary.
I mean, Someone you haven't seen in a long time wants another chance with you,
and, This person's done some personal growth, they know they messed up,
they're afraid of what you think of them now and they're afraid to contact you
but they're going to anyway, and, This person is just stuck in a state of low energy
they don't know how to pull themselves out of, and they remember that you made
them feel better, and They want to make some changes but don't fall for this yet,
they're not quiiiite ready for it ...
I'm sorry, but ...
How IS this, when I said no in October 2017 and NONE of the 2018-2019 affair transits came true??
But the ONE THING I DID NOT DO was go back and look at the astrology. I mean: Why do that? I'd pored over that endlessly and to be quite frank, I was sort of tired of it.
And THAT was why I DID NOT NOTICE ... Mars is about to pass over Saturn, which is the apex of my yod, AND Chi's boomerang.
Is THIS why I'm getting all these warnings now? However, as we've seen, you can have ALL kinds of bells and whistles going off in your transits, and ... nothing happens. Then again, I look ahead in her transits (I mean far ahead, like five years plus, and I see very little disagreement about something. Something Very Big.)
Doesn't mean it happens. The great American astrologer Robert Hand tells a story of reading a client's chart one year and seeing transits that looked distinctly terrible ... poverty, drug use, misery. When he contacted the client, he was bracing himself to hear that horrible things had happened. And, what a shock! The client said, "No, I had a great year! I really enjoyed my career and I made a million dollars!"
Turns out she had been playing Judy Garland all year in a high-profile stage production.
So, Big Bad Transits, even when they look uniformly awful, don't have to be lived that way (even when the person in question has been cruisin' for a bruisin' for some forty years now.) So, fuck knows what's actually going on here. I start a card reading going, "NO fucking way I'm ever going to see this guy again. This guy is gone, gone, gone!" and the cards, the astrology, everything, says, "No, he's not, honey!"
In any case, events now will make it clear WTF is really going on, and how to interpret all that murky astrology for the past two years.
1.) Nothing. In that case, I had the choice to take up the affair again, I turned it down, and that was that. All those affair transits, 2018-now, are only markers for what would have happened if I had just not been able to let him go and sunk my teeth in and hung on. I have the choice in this instance to be forlorn and suffer, and have a miserable 2021 (forecasted ALL OVER THE FUCKING PLACE), or I can recognise that somebody who isn't coming back for whatever reason is somebody I don't want anyhow and just concentrate on other things and GTF over it.
2.) The Prodigal Affair Partner indeed shows up. This would make me correct when I made a bet back in 2017: "Seems like I can roll the dice and take a chance on doing the right thing ... I'm going to see the guy again no matter what I do, so might as well take the high road." In that case, the affair transits 2018-2019 were reflective of what would have happened if I had said yes back in October 2017, and this last spate of affair transits is reflective of what I had hoped back then: Even if I said no then, I still get him back now anyway.
These transits were so tangled up with one another it was impossible for me to tell whether the 2020's were just the coda to the 2018-2019's, or a separate entity all to themselves that was going to occur regardless. Here's where we find out! If 2.) is indeed the case, I can now add:
2a.) I end up devastated again, because I Fall For It Again and He's Not Ready, and
2b.) I steer nicely around that one, because I've looked at the astrology, the tarot cards, and the psychology involved here. He's not ready. I already know that. My job is to get in, teach a quick lesson about codependency ("Dude, you fell down on the job. Get well now, please,") and get OUT.
Which I can do happily, because all the other evidence here is that I have other things in my life that are going to start turning around and looking up soon, and ...
Due to a certain person having extreme difficulty learning her lesson ... I end up with him AGAIN anyway!
I have been wondering what the real story was with these three-year groupings of affair transits for something like FOUR YEARS.
One way or another, The Mystery Will Be Solved ... and I will have learned quite a lot about how to interpret transits in a chart. And: If you see something big coming up in multiple transits, how much can you really trust that it's going to happen?
One thing here that's very interesting. The cards were having a fit about this around the beginning of this year, and there were a few interesting hits that could have presaged this. And then ... covid 19 hit, and the timing suggested by my Fairy Ring spreads changed.
To Now. The date Mars conjunct Saturn becomes exact is August 20th. However, we know a certain person tends to drag his feet (all the way to the END of October 2017, not the beginning), and the influence is said to be active all the way to the end of the year.
Right when I was forecasted to get dumped.
Thinking About This This Morning ... Twin Flame Issues Can Apply to Other Areas of LIfe Besides Relationships
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