I remember reading many years ago a magazine article. It was the early 90’s, and I was waiting in a doctor’s office. I sifted through the magazines there as I waited, and selected a copy of Psychology Today. One article in it caught my eye, and I read it through.
It dealt with past relationships, and how one views them. The findings of the researchers concluded that the way that people speak about their exes reflects their views of themselves; that is, when a person speaks negatively about an ex, it is due to the fact that they are feeling bad about themselves, and when a person speaks positively about an ex, it is because they feel positively about themselves.
There were also many other traits shared among the negative group, and each of these traits were negative; while there were also many traits shared among the positive group, and these traits were generally positive. I resolved at that time that I should speak positively concerning my exes, as a rather simple matter of transforming my view, a manner to cultivate those positive traits (results as yet inconclusive).
Now, some would take this as an indication that I might be ready to throw myself at So-and-so’s feet, but that is a one-sided view. Before we go on, let’s say that trustworthiness is a principal virtue.
Over the past few years, I have had a stalker, which is documented in part both here and here. This person was a blogger that I had become intimate with. She began to drink quite heavily in the second year of our relationship, having published some three recipes for cocktails at that time, as well as doing drugs with her brother on occasion.
There was only once that I remember her ever drinking liquor around me. That was one of the times when the former Elizabeth Green came to visit, and had brought a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. We awoke at 9:30 the next morning to find my Sweet Sexy finishing off her second glass of vodka straight—not shots, mind you, but something more like a tumbler. After her father died, her drinking became stronger still, and the first time that I ever saw her vomit was around then. I had to help her up from the floor and into bed.
These days, she enjoys spreading all manner of vicious lies about me. But the fact of the matter is that people generally do not do such things when they are feeling particularly good about themselves (a touch of wisdom from EG).
In general, people lie about things in order to hide the truth of a matter. This does not represent a total breakdown of decency, but rather an indication that a recognition of right and wrong is still active, and a self-condemnation on the part of the liar. For some reason, doing the right thing was not actionable, and so the wrong was chosen; the sense of decency remains active, and the lie is utilized to cover the wrong.
Of course, it would seem as if it is so much easier to do the right thing in the first place; however, in the real world, there are sometimes competing interests which must be allayed.
Now, I was preparing a post for the site I maintain, “The Malfeasance of St. Louis County,” which had a fellow known as “Bob the electrician” as its subject matter. I retrieved with full header information an e-mail dated Wednesday, January 24, 2007. This is where my stalker relates how her mother’s boyfriend of some 30 years had grabbed her and kissed her one day when she was 16; or as she likes to say, “He stuck his tongue in my mouth.”
Although the e-mail says nothing of it, there was another incident which she had related to me. On that occasion, Bob the electrician had given her some type of gift, for which he demanded a kiss as thanks. He came to her darkened room right after she had went to bed, to sit beside her and demand payment while her mother stood at the door, standing guard and encouraging her to relent.
Personally, I am inclined to believe that the involvement of the mother indicates something a bit more far-reaching than the sketch of events here. But it does explain a few things; the history of early drug abuse, depression, anxiety, etc. as well as acting as an influence to her brother’s meth addiction.
Tommy, you didn't see anything
Tommy, you didn't hear anything
Tommy, you won't say anything
(And now, back to our regularly scheduled post...)
Now, so far, much of the subject matter has appeared to be rather sordid; and it is, no doubt. But there would be little reason in bringing it up were that the end of it.
As I have noted previously, the lie is not an indication of the total breakdown of decency. In this case, the lies persist due to the very fact that she is entirely aware that she was in the wrong, and one lie has been built on top of another and another and another, until it would seem as if her whole world would come crashing down if she would dare to so much as whisper the truth.
But this is not the case. Only through being truthful will she be able to come to the intimate realization that all of the terrible wrongs she has done are nothing more than ordinary human frailties, decorated with various accoutrements. And that is true freedom. Many of the people whose opinions she fears so will fall away from her for having dared to speak the truth, but then she will be empowered against the illusory, and see that the rottenness which consumes them renders them unpalatable in the first place. And then the various negative aspects which they brought to her will subside.
I know her well enough to know that she is afraid of such things, but she has an inner strength which she is entirely unaware of; a truly remarkable woman. There is no need for her to believe in those who would have her believe that she is rotten and weak and horrid. Their very strength relies upon her believing those things, and so they feed her those beliefs, and often in subtle fashion.
But I remember the day that she and I went to The Pie Pantry in Belleville for an early lunch, and I held her hand as we walked down the street. The wind was blowing through her hair and ruffled her skirt, and the sun was bright. I remember looking at her and thinking that I was one lucky guy to be the one to hold her hand. It was then that I understood that there is nothing better for a man than to be with a woman that he totally respects, something lasting that I carry with me to this day.
Now, I don’t mean to lightly excuse any manner of wrongdoing and excess. As surely as night follows day, there will be a price to be paid. What I’m driving at here is that isn’t the whole of the story. The goodness that I loved her for remains. I have assurance of this, because still she lies.
Like Hellen of old, to me she remains the most perfect and beautiful woman to walk the face of the earth. And like so many before her, deeply flawed.
No, I am not overly-optimistic about things. But I do understand that, at times, I am pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.
I do hope that she finds her strength some day.
It dealt with past relationships, and how one views them. The findings of the researchers concluded that the way that people speak about their exes reflects their views of themselves; that is, when a person speaks negatively about an ex, it is due to the fact that they are feeling bad about themselves, and when a person speaks positively about an ex, it is because they feel positively about themselves.
There were also many other traits shared among the negative group, and each of these traits were negative; while there were also many traits shared among the positive group, and these traits were generally positive. I resolved at that time that I should speak positively concerning my exes, as a rather simple matter of transforming my view, a manner to cultivate those positive traits (results as yet inconclusive).
Now, some would take this as an indication that I might be ready to throw myself at So-and-so’s feet, but that is a one-sided view. Before we go on, let’s say that trustworthiness is a principal virtue.
Over the past few years, I have had a stalker, which is documented in part both here and here. This person was a blogger that I had become intimate with. She began to drink quite heavily in the second year of our relationship, having published some three recipes for cocktails at that time, as well as doing drugs with her brother on occasion.
There was only once that I remember her ever drinking liquor around me. That was one of the times when the former Elizabeth Green came to visit, and had brought a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. We awoke at 9:30 the next morning to find my Sweet Sexy finishing off her second glass of vodka straight—not shots, mind you, but something more like a tumbler. After her father died, her drinking became stronger still, and the first time that I ever saw her vomit was around then. I had to help her up from the floor and into bed.
These days, she enjoys spreading all manner of vicious lies about me. But the fact of the matter is that people generally do not do such things when they are feeling particularly good about themselves (a touch of wisdom from EG).
In general, people lie about things in order to hide the truth of a matter. This does not represent a total breakdown of decency, but rather an indication that a recognition of right and wrong is still active, and a self-condemnation on the part of the liar. For some reason, doing the right thing was not actionable, and so the wrong was chosen; the sense of decency remains active, and the lie is utilized to cover the wrong.
Of course, it would seem as if it is so much easier to do the right thing in the first place; however, in the real world, there are sometimes competing interests which must be allayed.
Now, I was preparing a post for the site I maintain, “The Malfeasance of St. Louis County,” which had a fellow known as “Bob the electrician” as its subject matter. I retrieved with full header information an e-mail dated Wednesday, January 24, 2007. This is where my stalker relates how her mother’s boyfriend of some 30 years had grabbed her and kissed her one day when she was 16; or as she likes to say, “He stuck his tongue in my mouth.”
Although the e-mail says nothing of it, there was another incident which she had related to me. On that occasion, Bob the electrician had given her some type of gift, for which he demanded a kiss as thanks. He came to her darkened room right after she had went to bed, to sit beside her and demand payment while her mother stood at the door, standing guard and encouraging her to relent.
Personally, I am inclined to believe that the involvement of the mother indicates something a bit more far-reaching than the sketch of events here. But it does explain a few things; the history of early drug abuse, depression, anxiety, etc. as well as acting as an influence to her brother’s meth addiction.
Tommy, you didn't see anything
Tommy, you didn't hear anything
Tommy, you won't say anything
(And now, back to our regularly scheduled post...)
Now, so far, much of the subject matter has appeared to be rather sordid; and it is, no doubt. But there would be little reason in bringing it up were that the end of it.
As I have noted previously, the lie is not an indication of the total breakdown of decency. In this case, the lies persist due to the very fact that she is entirely aware that she was in the wrong, and one lie has been built on top of another and another and another, until it would seem as if her whole world would come crashing down if she would dare to so much as whisper the truth.
But this is not the case. Only through being truthful will she be able to come to the intimate realization that all of the terrible wrongs she has done are nothing more than ordinary human frailties, decorated with various accoutrements. And that is true freedom. Many of the people whose opinions she fears so will fall away from her for having dared to speak the truth, but then she will be empowered against the illusory, and see that the rottenness which consumes them renders them unpalatable in the first place. And then the various negative aspects which they brought to her will subside.
I know her well enough to know that she is afraid of such things, but she has an inner strength which she is entirely unaware of; a truly remarkable woman. There is no need for her to believe in those who would have her believe that she is rotten and weak and horrid. Their very strength relies upon her believing those things, and so they feed her those beliefs, and often in subtle fashion.
But I remember the day that she and I went to The Pie Pantry in Belleville for an early lunch, and I held her hand as we walked down the street. The wind was blowing through her hair and ruffled her skirt, and the sun was bright. I remember looking at her and thinking that I was one lucky guy to be the one to hold her hand. It was then that I understood that there is nothing better for a man than to be with a woman that he totally respects, something lasting that I carry with me to this day.
Now, I don’t mean to lightly excuse any manner of wrongdoing and excess. As surely as night follows day, there will be a price to be paid. What I’m driving at here is that isn’t the whole of the story. The goodness that I loved her for remains. I have assurance of this, because still she lies.
Like Hellen of old, to me she remains the most perfect and beautiful woman to walk the face of the earth. And like so many before her, deeply flawed.
No, I am not overly-optimistic about things. But I do understand that, at times, I am pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.
I do hope that she finds her strength some day.
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