Friday, August 8, 2014

It stands

Today, as Ron and I rode the bus down Antoine, another wheelchair passenger got on.  She was accompanied by a guy with clear Fetal Alcohol Syndrome features.  He had the social issues, too.  He kept starting rudely and getting into people's personal space (even off the bus).  He had limited awareness of social rules, leaving his companion's wheelchair completely blocking the sidewalk in two directions as he gaped at something.  He hung like a monkey from the grab bars on the bus, lifting his feet up and swinging, his shirt pulled up to expose a disgusting hairy belly.  He kept flirting with me even when I flashed my wedding ring and made a point of addressing Ron as "my husband".  He wasn't teasing, either.   

I have a hard time with people who have cognitive/developmental issues.  I am embarrassed and ashamed to be lumped in with them. 

I have issues with people who are mentally ill and unmedicated, for whatever reason.  Most aggravating to me are the homeless, addicted, mentally ill who're aware of their diagnosis.  I just want to smack them for making us all look bad. 

I also have problems with addicts of every stripe. 

In the first instance, as I told Ron: You can only be rude to them.  If I am rude enough they get the message to leave me alone.  They don't understand subtle, you have to beat them over the head with it.  "I don't want to talk", turning your back, and becoming pointedly interested in something else will usually do the trick. 

For whatever reason, a couple of "slow" fellows on the paratransit service like me, so I had to learn how to shut them down.  If I say a word to them they think I "like" them too and they pester me.  They touch me, grabbing my arm and yelling my name to get attention, etc.  Unless I am rude. 

So I am.  I don't like it.  New drivers think I'm a bitch, being so rude to the poor slow man.  Older drivers know these guys are relentless and will continue to pester until one of us disembarks. 

One driver (back when Ron could "walk") picked us up.  He had 2 seats left, one in the middle back, and one back passenger.  I "made" Ron get in the middle back because one of my "boyfriends" was eagerly expecting us, sitting behind the driver.  I didn't want him sitting directly next to me because I knew he'd keep poking at me and pestering.  The driver thought I was "horrible" "making" Ron sit in the middle.  When Ron realized the situation, he was happy to do it, and kept the other fellow distracted enough to leave me alone. 

Do I think I'm all that?  So hot they can't leave me alone?  Hell no.  I just think I'm reasonably young, not slow, and friendly, so they take an interest.  One made a point of telling me he "only likes white girls" so that may be a factor. 

I told Ron, I need to work on this.  I need to work on loving them.  Right now I mainly just feel disgust and embarrassment that I am in the club.  I need to ask God (and will do this) to put His love for them into my heart, His thoughts in my head, and His words in my mouth. 

I need to work on my own emotions - dealing with cognitive and neurological deficits.  I need to get better at loving myself with these problems.  I don't.  I hate myself for being "less than normal". 

No one else ever loved me with them.  When they realized I had them they just got angry and beat the crap out of me verbally.  A lot of tears.  I don't want to be the haters who abused me.   I don't want to be the hater to myself, or others. 

So.  I need to work on these issues with mental illness as well.  I am proud to be associated with well medicated, stable, mentally ill people.  Not so much the rest of the crew.  Gotta work on that. 

Like I told Ron, God always has me working. 

Lastly, addicts.  It's easy to see why I have issues: alcoholic mother.  Neglectful.  Abusive in drinking while pregnant.  Then I married an alcoholic who can get very verbally abusive. 

It's easy to hate.  Really easy.  Sometimes I look at my views - I was around 3,300 a month for a while this week - and I think, this is why people read.  Because I am honest even when it makes me look awful. 

It's so easy to hate all of them as weak, horrible, going-to-hurt-me-if-I-let-thems.  I have had some very Bad Thoughts. 

God doesn't want that.  He wants this:
Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
 
Ron's drinking tonight.  He was very affectionate (verbally) for a while but he kept pulling my hair as he stroked it.  I got so angry at him.  I kept most of it bottled but I told him I'd cut my hair short if he pulled it again. 

He couldn't receive: I can only let you do that when I have just conditioned, and brushed, my hair.  I cannot let you do that at the end of the day when my hair is tangled because you'll keep snapping it and pulling it out.  If you want me with long hair you need to understand this.  When I am depressed you cannot do this.  I only have the energy to use a 2-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and it does not provide enough conditioning for leisurely hair stroking.  I basically just made him stop. 
 
He has not been verbally abusive.  If anything he says what he thinks - "I love you so much, etc."  I just wish I could hear this when he's sober.  It's not like we're dating - I've been with him for over 22 years.  I married him blind and in a wheelchair.  Clearly I'm not going anywhere. 
 
How do I overcome his drinking issues, with good?  I need to pray on that and figure it out. 
 
I know this, only God can fix Ron.  I'm either helping God or getting in His way. 
 
I know God does not want me to enable.  I won't even bring Ron a can of beer out of the fridge, and I do not help him shop for any alcohol.  I remind him, when we eat out, margaritas aggravate his neuropathy (he's asked me to do that). 
 
I know God does not want me to hate.  God doesn't want me putting up every shameful detail of his behavior.  
 
I just need to figure out how, as a Christian, I can love him without feeding the illness.  I need to root all this hate and bitterness out of my own heart (on all these issues) so I can serve God better. 
 
My #1 job is pleasing God.  I haven't said that in a while but it stands.   
 
 

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