Be Prepared

When I leave the house, I always wear walking shoes.

It has been my experience that Ron, on occasion, will get ugly.  One time he refused to give me a ride home, called paratransit and took me off the trip.  I had to walk in my sandals to the bus stop.  Then, to my horror, I realized I didn't have any bus fare.

I had to beg Ron for bus fare to get home.  He didn't make it easy, and after I had crawled back to the bus stop called me and said he "guessed" I "could" ride home with him.  I swore that would never happen again.  I branded the incident into my brain.

Not in a hateful way, but as a warning: this could happen again.  Don't put myself in that situation again.

It was so degrading, asking Ron for the money, and he made it very humiliating.

I always carry certain things in my backpack.  A Bible (my nifty waterproof one).  Some cash.  My bus fare card and extra fare money (since I ride for 60 cents a five dollar bill does nicely - I only used 60 cents today), and I always wear walking shoes.

Ron, like me, tends to cycle.  He's in a more self-loathing, resentful, bitter, entitled cycle.  The kind of cycle where I chose to gain weight and maintain it just to humiliate him, for instance.  He really does believe this.  A lot of ranting at God, but God let me know He can defend Himself.

He's been making some ugly comments lately about me, making general ignorant statements, like I "Don't do anything for him", etc.

Last night Ron told me he would be going to the liquor store after we went to Starbucks.  When the ride came we all had to sit in the back with someone else, a very large woman with a big tote bag.

When the front seat client got out, the driver offered me the front seat.  As I got out, Ron make a big display of "relief", being able to breathe and all.  I thought that was very ugly, but didn't react.

My childhood taught me that bullies are looking for a payoff: Heather gets upset.  I wasn't going to reward him for being ugly.

We got to Starbucks and I got our drinks.  I went outside and Ron started talking about how I'm "a food addict" and how he knows I love food more than him, because if I really loved him I'd lose the weight. I have been getting this a lot recently, and one thing I can say with assurance, I haven't gained anything in over 6 months.  I didn't say that because then I'm reacting and giving him the payoff.

I just said "food addicts" are probably addicted to carbohydrates.  No one ever got addicted to fat grams or protein.  Ron interrupted me and didn't let me finish.  Fine.  He wants to be rude, that's on him.

It's all about my weight is his personal problem, making HIM look bad.  I looked at Ron in his dirty t-shirt (because he didn't want to change it) and unbrushed hair and thought "If you look bad, it's not on me."  Again, I didn't react.

Then, we get to the meat of the issue: the trip to the liquor store.

Recently, Ron had asked me for help figuring out which alcohol was making him fat: wine or beer.  I told him, the wine.  I got the nutritional information and told him one of his "servings" had 40 carbohydrates and over 440 calories.  He said thank you and he would stick to beer.

Apparently, he decided that meant I would be "helping" him with alcohol again.   "You have to help me figure out the cost per ounce on these drinks, Heather."  I noticed he had stopped deriding me, now that we'd gotten to "the issue".

Maybe he was trying to break me down with criticism and derision, so I'd "help" him to feel better and get his approval for a change.  I don't know.

I do know that alcoholics will often bring up an unrelated issue and beat it to death, to take the focus off the drinking.  If I get upset about that, then I can't confront him on the drinking.

I'm not an alcohol expert, and frankly I'd really rather not deal with these issues at all.

He stated it as a fact, that I would be doing this.  I told him "No, I don't help you with alcohol.  This is helping you with alcohol."

He got angry at me, denied it.  Then he brought up my weight again.  "Since you're so fat, the least you can do is help me with this..."

I stated, calmly, the liquor store employee could read him all the information he needed.  No, he wanted me to do it.

I waited until he stopped and said, calmly, NO.   The answer is and will remain, NO.

He blew his top, unleashing a torrent of verbal abuse and name-calling.  I said "Ron, do you hear how you sound?  People are walking right by looking at you.   Do you want to be this person?"

I won't repeat what he said.

He started with threats.  He wasn't going to help me with anything.  I could get my own groceries on the bus.  I could find my own way to work (I could do quite well on the bus), he was done with "helping" me.  If I wanted a war I would get it, this was a war... etc.

When he called me a b- again, I said "Do you want me to leave?  I'm about to walk out of here.  You're sitting outside, the driver will see you if I'm gone."

"Go ahead and leave you [censored]."  OK.  I got up and left.

I went to the bus stop, and got there right as it pulled up.  I got on, took out my pass, and waved it in front of the meter (Houston uses RFID technology).  I sat down and had a lovely ride home.

I made it home about 15 minutes before Ron.  We're avoiding each other now.

I think it's sad, he probably has no idea why I got up and left.  He probably thinks it had to do with alcohol.  It didn't.

I was not going to sit there and let him verbally abuse me, threaten me, and deride me just because he "could".

I felt so GOOD walking off, listening to him curse behind me.  I'm glad I remembered to be prepared.