I hate sharing things that make me sad with people. Sharing doesn't alleviate any of my pain. Remember this if you ever plan on speaking to me.
I hate people who insist on knowing what is best for me. Just shut the fuck up, please. I know what is best for myself.
Sun, Mar. 12th, 2006, 03:17 am
I Have Goals
1. Stand my ground. Listen to and stand by my intuition. Stand by best judgement.
This is my goal.
I will tell you if I am able to do it.
Wed, Mar. 1st, 2006, 01:11 pm
| the Helper |
| you chose CX - your Enneagram type is TWO. |
"I must help others"
Helpers are warm, concerned, nurturing, and sensitive to other people's
How to Get Along with Me
- Tell me that you appreciate me. Be specific.
- Share fun times with me.
- Take an interest in my problems, though I will probably try to focus
- Let me know that I am important and special to you.
- Be gentle if you decide to criticize me.
What I Like About Being a Two
- being able to relate easily to people and to make friends
- knowing what people need and being able to make their lives better
- being generous, caring, and warm
- being sensitive to and perceptive about others' feelings
- being enthusiastic and fun-loving, and having a good sense of humor
What's Hard About Being a Two
- not being able to say no
- having low self-esteem
- feeling drained from overdoing for others
- not doing things I really like to do for myself for fear of being selfish
- criticizing myself for not feeling as loving as I think I should
- being upset that others don't tune in to me as much as I tume in to
- working so hard to be tactful and considerate that I suppress my real
Twos as Children Often
- are very sensitive to disapproval and criticism
- try hard to please their parents by being helpful and understanding
- are outwardly compliant
- are popular or try to be popular with other children
- act coy, precocious, or dramatic in order to get attention
- are clowns and jokers (the more extroverted Twos), or quiet and shy
(the more introverted Twos)
Twos as Parents
- are good listeners, love their children unconditionally, and are warm
and encouraging (or suffer guilt if they aren't)
- are often playful with their children
- wonder: "Am I doing it right?" "Am I giving enough?"
"Have I caused irreparable damage?"
- can become fiercely protective
Renee Baron & Elizabeth Wagele
The Enneagram Made Easy
Discover the 9 Types of People
HarperSanFrancisco, 1994, 161 pages
You liked the test? so please RATE it :-)
You are not completely happy with the result?!
You chose CX
Would you rather have chosen:
| My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: |
|You scored higher than 0% on ABC|
|You scored higher than 18% on XYZ|
Mon, Jan. 9th, 2006, 02:42 am
You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar. You fucking liar.
I hate you. Hate you, hate you, hate you.
I used to try, bleh bleh bleh bleh bleh.
I read the book and get super angry 'cause I start to see everything that is wrong. I get angry and sad. Angry because you suck. Sad because I think I am mourning a loss. The loss of something so stupid and disgusting, I don't even know why I am mourning for it.
You are this energy-eater. Gosh, I hate you so much. It's to a point to where I can barely look past my anger and hate to function and help myself, the wee one, or you.
I want to leave. But you insist on eating up my energy. Maybe it is what makes you thrive, you fucking energy vampire.
I hate you; I hate everything about you. You are utterly and completely disgusting. Everything about you is disgusting. I fucking hate you, you fucking liar. You fucking complainer. Get over it, get over it, get over it.
I used to wake you up to share my sorrows with you, but it only takes a few times to figure out that you could give a rat's ass. So now when I cry, I do it privately, lest I disgust you even more than I already have. God, emotions are so disgusting, aren't they?
I need your help, I've asked for it on numerous occassions, but you deflect, deflect, deflect. You refuse and refuse. It's a sharp pain below my stomach--it feels like my intestines are being pulled out. I used to ry, I swear I did. But you just lied and lied. Who am I kidding, you've been lying for the past year.
Whose stupid idea was this anyway? I swear I was coerced. Fuck.
Mon, Jan. 9th, 2006, 02:13 am
When did we stop trying?
When did we decide to quit?
I wish I had never done it.
I hate you sometimes.
I want to go back.
He who sows wickedness reaps trouble, and the rod of his fury will be destroyed. Proverbs 22:8
Paul said: "Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will reap. For he who sows to his flesh will of the flesh reap corruption, but he who sows to the Spirit will of the Spirit reap everlasting life. And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart" Galatians 6:7-9
You reap what you sow. People also tend to sow what they reap, but that's a whole different issue than the one at hand.
Everyday, I am reaping things that I've sown. Sometimes, they are good, positive things. Sometimes, they are negative, hurtful things. When I am staring at one of the negative, hurtful things I have harvested, I feel like I've slapped myself in the face. It stings and sometimes, I'm shocked into paralysis. I recognize my sins in the sins of others. Usually, I realize that I am reaping what I have sown when lamenting about the pain others' sins have caused. When I make this realization, I don't know what to do (please, no one misunderstand this as a call for advice). Do I continue my lamenting? Do I have the right to correct the sinner for the same sin I, myself, have committed? So I looked it up.
If your brother sins [against you*], go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that 'every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.'** If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector. Matthew 18:15-18
*Some transcripts leave out "against you"
Man, it's so much easier following the crooked path.
Wed, Jan. 4th, 2006, 09:30 pm
I give up.
My stomach hurts so much. I can't sleep. I've been trying to, but the pain in my stomach is just too intense. I can't go to the doctor because I have a co-pay of 152 dollars. I don't know where the fuck the affidavit I needed filled out in order to reduce the cost is or whether it was even filled out and if it was where the fuck it is now.
I hate having to rely on unorganized people. I hate having to rely on people in general. I hate myself for not being able to tell off people the way I tell off those who are closest to me. I hate not being able to stick up for myself sometimes. How fucking annoying. I hate being suckered into shit I don't want to do.
One instance burns brightly in my mind. I once let someone take charge of my medical care by having me switch from one medical provider to another one. Why did I allow this to happen? Granted, I did not feel comfortable with my first medical provider. However, I felt even worse about the one I felt pressured to switch to! In fact, I HATED that one!!! Why did I let that happen? To spare feelings?? I need to stop giving a rat's ass about other people's feelings. The person who forced me to make the switch obviously didn't care about mine. Well, maybe she did, but she didn't respect that I had made the decision for myself. She thought that she could have made a better decision and acted upon her thinking. But it really shouldn't have mattered what she thought was the best for me. It was my body, my health. I should have been the one to decide what was the best for me. So what if that is the decision you would have made for yourself? I am not you, and you are not me (thankfully). Why don't you know that because you pay for everything that I feel obligated to do everything you suggest?? Wouldn't you feel the same way if you were in my position? Maybe you wouldn't and that is why you treat me accordingly.
What annoys me even more about the above situation is the tactic that was used to have me switch. People tried to convince me to make the choice that Summer Harvest imposed by telling me I was committing fraud by using the Original Caregivers' insurance policy. That it would be lying. Funny, because around the same time, I remember Summer Harvest telling me that she had lied about the monthly income on some loan application or something like that. How infuriating! I remember not being able to sleep that night because I was so angry that someone had thought they could make better decisions than I could for myself. And The Man did absolutely nothing. I woke and complained, bitched, whined, reasoned with him, but all he could do was support what had been done. I guess only a special select few are allowed to commit fraud.
Then there's Pariah-Messiah whose words spill out from his mouth like shit from the ass of a man with an uncontrollable sphincter. Doesn't he realize how worthless he makes his words because he insists on making them plentiful? It's simple economics. More is less and less is more. And 3/4 of the stuff that he says has absolutely no purpose!!! He may say 100 words but only 25 of those words actually contribute anything. This is absolutely annoying, and personally, I think it is extremely effeminate. The male figures in my life have been men of few words. Because of that, the few things they said were taken seriously. I wonder how many people take Pariah-Messiah's words seriously.
I don't think Pariah-Messiah's excessive talking would bother me as much as it does if he didn't talk so much shit about The Man. Why does he think telling me that he thinks The Man is a leeching, lazy baby acceptable? Even if this were true, what makes him think I want to hear that shit from him? Does he think The Man was just BORN lazy? Or perhaps it was learned behavior from his male figures? If The Man were a leeching, lazy baby, doesn't he think I'd be the first to know? What good does he think will come from his telling me those types of things?? Is it necessary? Ohhh, oh, ohhhhhhhh. But you feel like you have the right to do say those things because you pay for our expenses. Oh, okay. It makes tons of sense now. Please, do know that you can get us out of your hair by simply typing up a paper to order us to move. See? No more expenses! I'd rather live in a sparsely and poorly furnished home than have to deal with your mindless and offensive blabber. Do mark my words--if it weren't for my obligation to the Wee One and my belief that being with me all the time is the absolute best, I'd be outta here in a New York minute and 100 miles away from your stupid gibberish.
The Pariah-Messiah is always talking about how we never help. Usually, though, he asks for help the hour right before he needs it. Sometimes, despite the short notice, it can be done. Sometimes, it can't. Why can't it? Oh, I don't know, maybe it's because we've made plans. Oh, our plans are stupid and pointless? So what do you suggest? That we don't make plans to do enjoyable things? I didn't know I had traded away my freedom for your financial support. Tell me if you think I have because I'll gladly clear up any confusion, and then decisions and actions can be carried out accordingly. Maybe if you actually called a few days ahead to make plans we'd be much better able to accomodate them. Which leads me to my next qualm; don't make plans only to not fulfill them without being considerate enough to cancel them. We're just like sitting ducks when you do that. You've done it many, many times--told us you've needed our help on a certain day when really you didn't need it at all; well, perhaps you did, but you certainly did not use it. Those days, we just sat around doing nothing when there were things we could have done. And the one time I assumed that you were going to do what you've done many times before, you actually do show up. Well, wtf. You didn't even call to tell us you were still coming, just like in the past when you didn't bother telling us that you weren't showing up the times you said you would. I used to cook food for your kids only to find out later after having called you to see if you were EVER going to show up that you weren't coming after all. What a waste of my time and energy. But you don't care--you're too busy listening to the own sound of your voice. Meh.
Argh. Summer Harvest doesn't even like taking care of her own kids. What makes her think that someone else would???
I sometimes feel like I didn't only marry one person. I feel like I married a whole boatload of responsibilities, kids, and ambitions that don't even belong to me. It has been, since even before the Wee One was born, affecting with my job as a mother. It is close to getting to a point where I'm doubting that the benefits of this whole situation is outweighing the cons. Actually, I'm pretty sure at this point the bad does outweigh the benefits--for me, anyway. Not for the man, obviously, or he would have left a long time ago. But everyday, I increasingly doubt The Man's concern for The Wee One or for me. I'm sure he "cares," of course. But it's a very superficial type of concern.
I feel like I'm drowning. I'm drowning in hypocrisy and negativity much worse than I've ever experienced in my life (and believe me, I've experienced quite a bit of hypocrisy and negativitly).
I hate it here. I'm at the end of my rope. I've never been so stressed out in my life. It's just of matter of thinking through the following: What would be worse, to stay here and stay unhappy (which is obviously affecting me deeply and is likely to permeate my entire existence, which includes the way I mother) but able to stay home with The Wee One or leaving to live by myself with the Wee One but will have to get child care, unless, of course, I find a job where I can telecommute. The question is which situation best minimizes the negative affects on the Wee One.
The other option is for The Man to find a better paying job so that he could support us elsewhere, but this is almost self-less, therefore, The Man would have no desire to do this.
Living by myself will be hard, I suspect. But it will be much easier than living here having to clean up after an adult. The Man complains that I don't fulfill my childcaring duties, but perhaps, if he did the simple things I asked of him such as putting his clothes in the hamper and dishes in the sink, I'd have more energy to do the things I am supposed to do. Maybe if he actually did the things I asked of him the first time, or maybe even the first three times I ask him to do something, I'd have more energy.
Here is a stupid conversation I had with The Man while I was burning with rage:
"You're not like normal people. Normal people ask and then show a little burst of anger," he said.
"Fuck normal people. That's not how I work. I will ask and ask and ask and ask and ask and ask and ask again. Then I will ask you when you think you'll get it done. Then I'll ask again and again and again. And then, after asking you and telling you how annoyed, angry, and unmotivated it makes me feel that you are ignoring my requests over and over, I will blow up."
"Well, maybe you shouldn't ask over and over again. Maybe you should ask a couple times and get sorta angry."
I feel like I'm on the boderline of hating him. After I blow up, he tells people that I blew up without a reason, which makes me feel like I'm insane because I clearly recall asking him to do whatever it is I want him to do over and over. I don't even limit his time. I tell him I'd like him to get it done and ask when he thinks he'll have it done. He'll tell me he'll have it done the next morning or something. When the next morning or whatever rolls along, it's not done. I'll ask him again and again and again. After a week, sometimes even a month, I will blow up. I think, didn't I ask him many, many times in a respectful and decent manner? Why is he telling people that this came out of nowhere? I asked him everyday, about two-three times a day.
Tue, Nov. 15th, 2005, 02:47 am
Wed, Sep. 7th, 2005, 06:59 am
I don't like people who don't understand that I speak in hyperboles. I can't stand being around people I know will take little things I say and misinterpret them. Everyone who understands me knows that I generously employ the use of hyperbole.
I feel like I am walking on eggshells around these types of people. I can't stand feeling on edge. I am naturally a very relaxed & carefree (or should I say careless?) person. I am always testing people's limits with slightly outrageous, off-beat (not off-color, mind you) things I say, but I cannot do this to people likely to drown in their thoughts and tears about what I say. This is unbearable for me. It is so annoying, I'd rather castrate myself if I could than have to bear it. I have never felt such an overbearing amount of annoyance.
THE MAN doesn't know how to delay gratification. Get your mind out of the gutter. We'll be shopping for groceries, and rather than walk across the parking lot to pick up a perscription, THE MAN would rather make another trip back later to pick it up because of his current exhaustion. How annoying is that.
I am pretty sad that Rehnquist died. For some reason, I felt such a connection with him. I felt that, if I had known him personally, we would have got along very well.
I was researching Roberts and have taken great interest in his wife. She is involved with Feminists for Life