I am in a little pain today. Tooth pain. I hate tooth pain. It’s the worst kind of pain, I think. I am sure it will go away in a day or so; it just sucks a little bit right now. I felt the need to write this morning, after my blurting/venting yesterday, sparked some of my followers to say “What the fuck is wrong with you?”. Most of them said it in a nicer way than that, but really, when it comes down to it, that’s basically what they were asking.
Anyway, it got me wondering what my motivation for being with The Cowboy is? I think there are numerous reasons, but at this point I can only identify a couple. The first one being my need to be a caretaker. I have been a caretaker all my life; always the person my friends would come to for advice or help. For the last 12 years I have had the most important caretaking job there is, which is being a mother. Those of you who read on a regular basis, know that my son is now going to go live with his dad full-time, and I will only have him every other weekend. But even before the decision for him to live with his dad was arrived at, my son had already started pulling away, becoming more independent. If you are a good parent, you know this is what you strive for, for your children to be able to take care of themselves and to be productive members of society. It seems my son is getting a good start on that, and I will continue to co-parent with his father to make sure he becomes even more adept at it. Presents a problem for me though, because what am I to do with all this time on my hands? I guess I need to find someone else to take care of. Enter The Cowboy. Is he capable of surviving on his own? Yes, I suppose he is, as he has made it 42 years without me. But, he is struggling right now, can’t quite get his shit together, is depressed over the fact he is 2 1/2 hours away from his son and doesn’t get to see him on a regular basis, and he feels like shit because he fucked up a good job and is struggling to find another one. It just so happened that we were dating when he got fired, and he decided that was a good time to move in. Which, if he was making money, and contributing to the household expenses, would be helping me out tremendously, but right now he’s not. I am financing pretty much everything. If I turn him out, it would be to nothing. I can’t do that. He is my friend, and I wouldn’t do that to a friend. Would I like him to be more appreciative? Hell yes, I would! To me it doesn’t take much to say thank you, and it does mean a lot. However, I have had other friends I have done things for who have never said thank you, who have never reciprocated, and they are still my friends, for various reasons. I would feel like a bit of a hypocrite believing I am a good friend, and then kicking his ass when he’s down.
One of the other main reasons is because I am broken. Off-kilter. Fucked up. Screwed up. Odd. Out of the ordinary. Half a bucket of fucking crazy. I’ve never been given a diagnosis, except for depression, but there’s something a little off about me. I choose not to try to put a label on it. I won’t take medication anymore. I have tried medication, and it doesn’t really work for me. I choose to ride the roller-coaster. I prefer the roller-coaster. That being said, I need someone who can put up with my particular brand of crazy. Can The Cowboy handle my brand of crazy? Right now he seems to handle it okay, but in the future who knows? All I know is that a so-called “normal” guy probably couldn’t live with me. My ex was somewhat “normal”, and I was just too much for him. He was too straight-laced and I was too off the charts. I have a “normal” side, one that works hard, and cooks good, and keeps a nice house, and is a good mom, and can even sew and quilt, but that’s not all there is to me. The Cowboy can relate to my half-bucket of crazy side, because he’s got his own half-bucket of crazy. I suppose that means together, we have a whole fucking bucket. We’re going to have to be careful carrying that damn thing, or it might slop over the side.
The cowboy may be satisfying your need for caregiving, but he is a taker! Are you happy to receive scraps? From what I have read you are funny and lovely, you can also be opinionated in a very good way. You should see what we do.
Guess I keep hoping he will learn how to be a giver. 😦
The last perfect person was me. Everybody else is making do.
I’m constantly pining for more time on my hands but when the day comes that The Daughters are finally old enough to take care of themselves, I’m hoping the free time I’ve wished for doesn’t become a 50 pound stone on my back. I think I can guess how this turns out.
If you don’t forgive your friend’s warts, you’ll soon find yourself sitting in an empty room. Fact.
I’ve been around for a while and in my experience, there is no “normal” guy. Or girl, for that matter. I think that we’re all a big wad of neurosis. I sure am! It’s part of the human condition.
Yes, Exile, I agree we are all fucked up to one degree or another. No one gets through life unscathed. At this point in our lives, meaning our early 40’s, he and I have both been through enough relationships to be a bit gun shy and untrusting. I think one of the big obstacles to overcome in our relationship is learning how to trust each other. Thanks so much for commenting!!
I am your sister in the caretaker part. I’m also an extremist…either all of nothing. Awhile back my ex was having a hard time in life. So, what did I do? I moved across town, got a two bedroom apartment, and invited him to live with me. He was broke, angry, and depressed. I took care of him for quite awhile. I wanted to rescue him. I would probably do it again if the need arose…maybe!
And no slopping over the side…
So good to know I am not the only person who tends to jump in with both feet, instead of first testing the waters with a toe! 😉 Quite curious as to how that whole arrangement ended up working out. . . .
The fact that you are a Giver is a wonderful thing. Unfortunately, Takers are in constant search for Givers — sort of like hunters and their prey. On the surface, Givers receive a certain satisfaction for being caretakers of others. But after a while, even Givers want to be taken care of and appreciated. Hopefully, The Cowboy will come to recognize that. You’re both entering into a time that is difficult for each of you individually, and together. Hopefully, the “together” part will smooth over all the rest.
If he was a healthier individual, then maybe the “together” part would smooth over the rest. Things got really bad this weekend. Actually, they went straight to hell. . . the same place he’s going to end up if he doesn’t watch it.
Damn me and my giving!! I want someone who would like to take care of me!!
There’s absolutely nothing to be damned about being a Giving person. That’s a wonderful quality to have, especially in this day and age where the Giving are far outnumbered. You deserve to have someone who wants to be that kind of person for you. End of story.
Thanks Ned. 🙂 I guess I just need to learn when/who to give to.
It’s a lesson we all learn at some point 😉