Fuck the Dumb Shit

You are welcome to not come see this post, unless you are prepared for some drama-stopping reality. No, expletives will not be deleted. Let’s get up close and personal. Fix a big cuppa with a shot of whatever is strongest.

Thus far, in the more than two years The M3 Blog has been open, I have only cracked the window into my life enough to let out some of the demons which are cause for rants against inanity, stupidity and a calculated repugnance for sanity. Today is one of those days.

Judgment

Red DwyerI garner a lot of it. Why? I am not a conformist. Under no circumstances do the rules by which others live get accepted into my lifestyle without scrutiny, questioning of motives and a clear path to the beneficial logic on which they are founded.

Often, when others look down their upturned noses at me, they are frustrated by the inability to explain themselves in a form of language I understand. As the majority of my reading audience, all of my social circles and the vast majority of strangers who even know of me can attest, I am extremely intelligent. As a founding member of the Grammar Nazi society, I understand even the most broken forms of English and French.

Pissed Off

In fact, when I am angry enough, I stop speaking English altogether. The average onlooker is confused by such tirades. They make perfect sense to me.

If you cannot understand me in your native tongue, I will speak the one which brings me the most comfort.

What has my dander up these days? Fucking stupid people. Quelle surprise, eh?

Background

My love life has been quite a roller coaster since my husband died. I dated someone for a while. I had sex with someone for a while. Neither of those relationships panned out. One was a compatibility issue. One was a marriage issue. See, the one which wanted to marry me was married to someone else.

Borne of that relationship were some of my favorite nicknames:

Slut

Whore

Home Wrecker

Guess what? I am none of those. The men who actually make it to my bed for more than a nap know I am anything except easy. I take “high maintenance” to an all new high. Bearing in mind how difficult it is to bed me and the scant few who have managed it, I am not a slut.

At no time have I ever got recompense for sex. I have never been a prostitute. I have never been kept. Hell, I have never slept with a man who made more than I did; ergo, I am not a whore.

Now, to my favorite: Home Wrecker. Over the course of time, I have said it sixteen ways to Sunday:

If your marriage was happy, your spouse would stay home.

I have had cheating spouses. Would I have liked for them to be fidelitous? Depends on what our relationship was founded (See non-conformist.); however, if my spouse had stayed home when he was unhappy, I would never have known we were living a lie.

Pragmatism.

1. a pragmatic attitude or policy.

2. an approach that assesses the truth of meaning of theories or beliefs in terms of the success of their practical application.

I am pragmatic about such things. My spouse’s seeking happiness is what I want my spouse to do. In fact, if he is not happy in a relationship with me, I want him to find it with someone else.

Is it easy? No. At some point, I wanted him to find happiness with me. At the point where he begins a relationship with someone else, I have just gotten notice of putting emotional capital in a failed venture.

Is it necessary? Yes. I am not one to throw good money after bad. (If you have not read Marriage is a Credit Card, click the emotional capital link to understand the concept. It opens in a new tab, like every other link in a post.)

Closets and Skeletons

Let’s peek in my closet. Hmm. Neat rows of stilettos. Clothes hung by function and sorted by color. Wait a minute. What is that? Men’s clothes. They are not my husband’s clothing. They belong to another man. He is someone else’s husband.

No, I am not having an affair. No, I did not spin some intricate web of deception to snare him away from his wife. No, I neither designed nor implemented any plan to portray myself as anything other than precisely what I am. No, I did not go on a campaign to denigrate his wife or situation to make life with me seem other than, especially better than, what it was.

So, how is it another woman’s husband came to live with me? Truly boring tale, that. I asked a question. (What?! You?!) I did not discriminate, though. I asked you the same question.

Something funny happened. As he cogitated, he came to a conclusion. He was living a lie. Couple that with what the rumor mongers call a “near death experience” (The soothsayers call it “realizing one’s mortality through aging”.) and what you get is a grown man walking ten miles to appear on my doorstep. Why is this funny? I was asleep when he arrived.

Confused? His wife called me all in a panic. I agreed to get in my truck in the middle of the night to ride around, to I am still not really sure where, to look for him on the road. When I came up empty (of course) and was nearly out of fuel, I went home for the night and crawled into bed. It is what sane people do in the middle of the night, so I am told. He appeared on my doorstep wanting a place to shower and sleep.

What do you think I did? The absolutely unthinkable. I told him he had to call his wife. What do you think happened next? I called her and put him on the telephone with her.

He went home that very morning. Over the course of the next few weeks, he applied his objective lens to what he had been living for the last nearly twenty-three years and discovered he had not ever been honest. He had done what was expected of him and never voiced what was in his heart of hearts. He had stomached anger, disappointment, resentment and emotional abuse and its attendant depression, while putting on the happy face which the people in his life expected of someone who surely had to be happily married to stick it out for the sixteen years he had been married.

One day, the dam broke. The web of flimsy twigs and mud which had held back his ambition, desire for happiness and his true identity shattered under his microscopic inspection of their inadequacy. Rather than be childish and merely disappear, he left under plausible reasoning.

On Tuesday, I needed someone to sit with my children because I needed to take another mother and her autistic child to Columbia for medical intervention. The person I counted on to sit pulled up lame on a Monday night. Later that same night, he wrote a note to his wife saying he was going to babysit my children and stay for a few days while he sorted things out. It was what he had wanted when he had made the ten-mile pilgrimage to my house weeks before.

Aftermath

What has followed that day nearly three months ago has been the most heinous assault on my character. You may recall the buddings of it. Those few of you close to the situation know how much I cannot stand bigotry, judgmental actions and the inane belief all sides of a story involving two people can be articulated by one side, especially the side which screams the loudest. What none of you know is how this is affecting me.

Over the course of my childhood, I was raised in the confines of a church which espoused and lived a non-judgmental attitude and professed the easiest way to avoid sin was not to put oneself in a position where sin was the only way to be happy. In short, it did not condemn members for mistakes. It especially did not condemn those who were young, dumb and full of cum for getting into unevenly-yoked marriages. Instead, it believed if a marriage was ill-fated, the marriage was not one of God regardless of how much any one person injected guilt into it.

The prohibition to religion on The M3 Blog comes as a direct result of the attitude with which I was raised. If one admits a mistake or a sin or a mistake which is a sin with a penitent heart, all is forgiven. Regardless of my personal religious beliefs, I hold this as an axiom to my spirituality with the human race. I personally am in no position to judge; ergo, I will not sit in moralistic judgment of anyone. I will quote the law where applicable. I will stand by my personal beliefs.

Under no circumstances will I threaten anyone’s soul with eternal damnation. Neither will I assume a position where my actions are elevated in my own mind and mouth above anyone else’s as a matter of belief, stupidity notwithstanding.

This means I disavow what religions most profess on this Earth. For me, the Earth is busy enough with its responsibilities and demands to preserve it in a state inheritable for our children to overshadow what concern I may have for the disposition of another’s eternal being’s soul at the time of death. IOW, if making this planet as good or better than I found it for my children and grandchildren is more than I need do to survive as a soul, when I die, I will be happy to stay in the realm of unclaimed souls.

Why is all this religion talk here? The people who condemned me the most were those with whom I chose to go to church for the last few years. The people whom I missed in South Carolina whilst I was in Louisiana are the same people. They called me “ungodly” and “unhealthy” and asked Grant if he realized how it looked (to their pious selves and the public to which they had broadcast their judgment of the situation) for him to live at my home.

Did I mention all of these things were said prior to any sexual contact between him and me? I guessed everyone would assume no one  could be in my house and resist my sexual prowess. After all, everyone ever in my presence has been accused of having sex with me, regardless of gender, level of friendship or even global proximity.

Beyond the religious people, who should be excused for their seemingly ardent prosthelytizing, there are also those who are listening to only one side of the story, namely the one not coming from me. You may as well ask: What did you do?

A. I opened my home to my best friend in South Carolina. The one person who through thick and thin gave a damn about how the events, which include the death of my husband and child, were affecting me. The one person in my locale who when the world was busy “praying for” me was actually DOING something to make my world livable. (See pragmatism.)

B. I did not stand on my porch and say, “I realize you have left home, but it would make others apply their unclean thoughts to us and profess what they would do as our reality to anyone who will listen and judge us.” Instead, I opened the door and made the hide-a-bed out for him without judging him or assuming anything beyond the stated fact he needed some space to decide what he needed to do next.

C. I refused to engage in mordancy. Regardless of whom I may have seen was at fault in his situation, during his rendition of his perspective I did not judge anyone for their actions. Instead, I asked him his opinion of the situation and what his quantitative action to it would be.

In the end, I stayed above the drama. I had no interest in steering his opinion in one direction or the other. I call it being a friend. When he asked my opinion, opposite what our relationship often embodied, I told him it was irrelevant. Until he said unequivocally he wanted it, I withheld it. When I gave it, he did not accept it as law, at my request. Instead, he asked questions until he could understand my perspective. This is socially called “adult conversation”. In American religious circles it is called “brainwashing” because it endorses cognitive thought. In bigoted southern American circles it is called “making a man lose everything he has”.

Let’s be frank, which occasionally is a name to which I answer.

I did nothing to persuade any man or woman to leave their spouse. All I have ever done is ask people how they live in their situations. In select cases, including the situations with the men with whom my relationships did not pan out, those questions led to reflection which revealed what I saw (even in the cases where I did not reveal my observations) was indeed the reality in which they had been living.

For all the people who call me a dream weaver, more often I am a reality bringer. I pull the curtain back on the wizard and reveal the smoke and mirrors for what they are. To some, this is bullying. I threaten what they hold dear. To some, this is disillusionment. I show the truth as diametrically opposed to what they have been (convinced, brainwashed, coerced) to believe is the truth. To a few, this is enlightening. After (hours, days, years), they are seeing the world as everyone else sees it.

Hypothetical

A man comes to you with ardent proclamations of how his wife has treated him as a stranger in his home, denied him the erotic exhortations of marriage and failed to provide an equitable partnership. When asked what your determinations are, do you unequivocally uphold his perspective or do you project reality onto a screen he recognizes? Do you temper your view with your own tenets for relationships which may not apply to his? Do you merely take your friend in your arms and commiserate the hurt through which they traverse without imposing your position on them knowing the heartache it will cause if your opinion is different than the one to which their heart has led them?

Or are you like me and forgive where no one else is willing, allow for self-discovery and allow for decisions free of tempering to occur to which you subsequently do not cast judgment?

Post Script

Although being raised Christian, I see many maladaptive behaviors a majority of the Christians in my life practice. Although Christ was active in pointing out sin, he was equally supportive of admission, penitence and redemption. Those of which I have encountered, especially in recent times, are more interested in pointing out the “failures” of others to exhibit their own perceived proficiency in piety. Sadly, they confuse piety with Christ-like behavior. They have failed to recognize Christ’s repugnance with religion in favor of a relationship with his father.

Although this post concerns itself with religious aspects of the Christian faith, those tenets (with or without your direct knowledge) do not temper the underlying sociological and philosophical questions:

Is it wrong to turn out a friend because others will assume sexual characteristics to your relationship even without a factual base? Should you turn away someone who is your best friend merely on the sake of gender? Why are drama queens/kings unwilling to accept they are proportionately responsible in the break up of relationships, especially if the highest contributing factor is an inability to convey facts to their proposed “soul mate”?


Please choose to answer any of the questions above. Please do not consider any of them an invitation to espouse your particular brand of religious beliefs. The topic is about friendship and consoling the hurt of someone who has chosen to support you in hurts which they could otherwise not conceive.

PS I am very averse in the ways of Christianity. If your only comment is the view of the Christian or other religious church, please refrain. This post is not condemning of any particular religion, but wholesale condemns piety, self-righteousness, bigotry and the overarching belief one’s tenets are the only ones available and redeemable.

#Hashtags: #Christianity #judgment #friendship

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59 Comments

  1. Yeah, yeah, yeah, but is he cute ? Did I say that out loud 😉
    frigginloon recently posted..Surprise, It’s A BoyMy Profile

    Reply
  2. When I was young I was a target for every wife who had a husband working in our office. This was the most traumatizing time of my working years.

    I had a wife attack me in front of her friends because he husband had come to my apartment for a secret visit. He had come to give a guy across the hall from me a pink slip. The obvious is aplenty, even as the guilty party isn’t even involved.

    Happens over and over again. If someone wants to see you as guilty, of course you are.
    Tess Kann recently posted..Dust to DustMy Profile

    Reply
  3. grant helms

     /  January 27, 2014

    My grateful appreciation to all who replied to this post. For those who don’t know, I am the male in question. My sincerest thanks to Red for opening her door and her heart to me. It has been many years since I felt so loved. Though I have many mixed emotions over the situation at hand, I have a hard time placing blame on my friends. If my wife wasn’t stoking the fire, it would have calmed down by now. But that is all history for me. I am looking toward the future with optimism and a new flower blooming in my heart. I think it is hardest to admit that I was mentally and emotionally abused for years. Those are the scars that take the longest to heal. But with time, and the love of good friends, anything is possible. Thanks again for your overwhelming support of Red. She is definitely a blessing. Grant.

    Reply
    • Mary Helms

       /  January 27, 2014

      I love what you have done with your life recently. Most of all, thank you Red, for being there when he needed you. As a Christian, yes there are still some of us, these post have saddened my heart. Because of the trials and tribulations in my life, I hope I never treat anyone the way it seems “Christians”, and yes, that is sarcastic, seem to have treated many here. I refer to such people as “Sunday Christians”. As soon as they leave the church they revert back to “do unto yourself” and “I write my own translation to the Bible”. Some people, and I’m so thankful I’m not one of them are critical of everyone. We were raised with a critical mother and when we married (me 4 times) we allowed our spouses to continue. It took 4 times before I learned. Sorry for rambling. Again, thank you Red, from the bottom of my Christian heart. I love you both.

      Reply
  4. Yes I know what you mean, those stupid assholes are everywhere these days and especially in G+ of which I have been frequenting the last week. I won’t go into details on the numb nuts that I encountered as you will have already met a lot of them but give me strength, those ignorant little shits really are sackless, maybe not a real word but it certainly should be 🙁 lmao

    One of the dickheads was a football fan, a real one as he seems to think but as for any other subject the poor guy was lacking in every quarter. Obviously he eats crap for breakfast every day as he definitely talks a load of shit 🙂 lol

    Wow so much swearing but I haven’t said the ‘F’ word yet, actually before I go onto number two of the Dimwit Society Members Club I think that I will let you read in between the lines, yes he was a dummy, yes a total wanker and yes again he proved himself to be a useless debater, perhaps he is a master without the de at something else though 🙂 lol

    Okay rant over, I love this posting Red 🙂

    Andro

    Reply
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