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Psychs vs. Norms

Posted by whiterabbit on May 4, 2003, at 19:11:07

I used to fear what a lot of people fear: that 5 years from now, 10 years from now, I'll be stuck in the same rut - still doing the same old thing.
Now, I'm trying not to panic because my life is changing dramatically and the only thing for certain is that I WON'T be doing the same old thing 5 or 10 years from now. People are never happy.

Now I'm living in limbo. The SSA turned down my application for disability benefits, but my therapist says that they always turn down everybody the first time. She says to wait it out if I can, to stay at home for now while I appeal the SSA's rather vague decision (they agreed that I had no business being around patients - I still get confused and disoriented under stress, and a mislabeled x-ray film can have tragic consequences...if anybody doubts this, I know stories...but the SSA says that I'm not too disabled for "other types of work". They don't say what types of work but I guess they're right,I could start cooking up some meth in the basement). I've decided that I don't want the house, somewhere down the road I'll sell my half to the ex, but right now I need some help from the social security system that I've been paying into for the last 23 years. So I can get out of here.

For now I'm doing the housewife thing for the first time in my life and I'm kind of enjoying it, just staying at home and cleaning and cooking.
I guess "housewife" isn't the appropriate term since it implies that I have a husband somewhere, and this person I live with is no longer interested in being a husband. Or not mine anyway.

I'm pretty sure I know who it is. A co-worker and
new divorcee who came along just in time to rescue this unhappy man from his mid-life crisis,
his little affair is almost laughable in its timing and ordinariness - almost. It's hard to laugh at betrayal.

The only variable is that the "other woman" need not be young, or beautiful, or exceptional in any way. Not that he would MIND, you understand, but
these are not prerequisites. The important thing is that she's someone 1)new and different 2)normal. My husband craves routine and predictability like people in Hell crave ice water. My craziness has worn him out. While other men his age are searching for excitement, he wants stability. And I'll be the first one to admit that I've put him through quite a lot. Although I'm much, much better now, getting better all the time, it's too little and too late
for him.

He rolled in quite late the other night, sometime after the bars closed, and he was still sleeping it off around noon when I opened his bedroom door to let the dogs out. I could smell beer and old socks, it was like right out of the "Man Show". I drink myself, but I do my drinking at home. I was quite the Wild Thang when I was younger since, like most bipolars, I always did things in a big way. We don't shop or drink or drug or gamble or have sex like everyone else; whatever our vices are, we go all-out. There's no "moderation valve" installed in our brains. So, after many many years
of trying to kill myself through unhealthy living,
I've got the bar-hopping and party-going out of my system. I enjoy my own company and solitary pursuits like reading, writing, and painting. I no longer feel the need to spend a great deal of money on cheap liquor and loud music, or at least I didn't feel the need before this pesky divorce business came along. Maybe later, I don't know.

That's one of the reasons my husband doesn't like me, I never want to go out and have "fun". I'm anti-social and wierd, I don't fit in (although I can be quite charming when I'm lucid). So I'm sure that's a major attribute in the new woman,
she knows how to have a good time. (I've never met her, but I've known my husband for 20 years.
I know him pretty well.) She'll drink with him and dance with him and she won't laugh because
most men who dance - unless they're doing something as specific as a two-step or waltz - most men who dance look like frogs in a blender.

So while he was out the other night with the drinking pals and/or the mistress, spending lots of money to get drunk and drive home at the peril of all others on the road, I was at home with a bottle of good red wine and the History Channel, working on a portrait of Queen Elizabeth I. But, I'm the crazy one. I'm abnormal.

If I had a choice to go back to the mental ward or to join the Norms in their country club, I know which way I would go.

-Gracie


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poster:whiterabbit thread:224306
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