Thursday, April 14, 2011

More poop...and the lack of fallouts.

It’s no secret I can’t pat myself on the back to save my ass. I’ve actually seen a couple of blogs lately where the intent and purpose of the post is literally to write a positive letter to oneself – about accomplishments, appearance, mental work, integrity, workouts, diet – anything that oneself might have been stellar at lately and I read those posts and I wonder how they do it.

And the posters – bless their hearts – have asked that other posters try and do the same on their blog. I love the posts. I love the idea of the posts. I believe they are noteworthy and necessary and absolutely true. I want to be those people who can write that. I really do.

But I can’t do it. Not right now. I will admit I even tried. I wanted to be able to. And yet I stared at a blank screen for 15 minutes – so I gave up. Self-love remains elusive to me. That is not to say I possess self-hate though…not like I used to anyway. I’m just saying I’m in the purgatory of self-loving stages….but I plan to keep moving up.

What’s my point? Well my point is that while I cannot write myself a self-love letter of any kind – I am getting better at recognizing how I’m changing in good ways. Today I’m getting better at being proud of that. I’m going to allow myself to say “Good Job Draz” – you knocked this one out of the park.

Because…well I did.

I have stated before that my dependency on Rambo when we first got married was unhealthy and literally brought me to my knees until I was bedridden. HE was my happiness. My reason for living and breathing. I had no identity other than “the person married to Rambo”. My identity was wrapped so tightly around him that without a “him” – there was no me. When he left to go over the road for months in a semi days after our wedding – I nearly died. Literally died – in bed – not eating or moving or working. There was no me to live for. I had forgotten who I was or why I existed. And the death that hung over me in a dark cloud – was exacty what I wanted. I wanted to die because without Rambo every day in my life physically close to me – I didn’t want to live.

Imagine the suffocation and pressure he must have felt knowing my life depended on his? Keep a job, pay the bills, remain stable, work 100 hours a week, take care of your family – oh and by the way – be the reason another human on this Earth stays alive.

Obviously I fought my way out with help and I learned to find me. My identity, passions, career – life. I learned to live FOR me WITH Rambo…not because of him. It was thee absolute hardest thing I have ever done. And it is still a work in progress to not want 24 hours of every day to be spent in his arms next to him. It is where I feel the safest – but it’s not realistic or smart or healthy. For either of us.

I’m lucky in that Rambo has always wanted to spend as much time with me as I with him BUT it is never possible with the work ethic he has. He has worked insane hours throughout his life so being together was impossible a lot – no matter how much either of us wanted it. Knowing he missed me with the same depth was very comforting though.

Suffice it to say that in the past when Rambo went hunting or bowling or something – I hurt. Badly. I took it as a personal jab against me that he was going out so as not to be with me. He didn’t love me enough to stay with me every second of every day that he wasn’t working. I wasn’t good enough. I barely saw him as it was – and when he chose to go somewhere without me – it was like a dagger in my heart.

What a bunch of bullshit. Rambo doesn’t have the ability to hurt me if he tried. He can’t do it. He never has. If the man goes hunting or bowling or whatever – it’s because he loves doing it, loves the people he does it with and has fun. Period. Plain and simple. He never goes with women, never gets drunk, never spends too much money and calls me a couple times when he’s gone even. He’s nearly perfect. He doesn’t even do it very often – maybe a couple times a year. He has never given me a reason to worry – ever. (So I do my best to make things up. LOL.)

How the hell I turned something he loves on occasion into something terrible is beyond me. But I did. And before he’d go bowling or to softball I’d pick a fight or put a major guilt trip on him. He even quit bowling altogether after a while. It had nothing to do with him – and everything to do with me. My insecurities. My selfless depression. My need to make everything a personal hit on me. Years of never feeling like enough before Rambo ever existed in my life.

I could take the simplest things and make them in my mind – into him not wanting to be with me. And it was ridiculous. And unfair. And I can’t believe I ever did that to him now – looking back. I was not the easiest person to live with…I’m amazed some days that he stayed.

Anywhoozle – onto the good stuff. I’ve worked hard on this over the years…my feelings that I attach to a situation that are completely invalid. When Rambo walks out the door to go do something he loves I want him to be happy and go off with a light heart and no guilt and have fun – and come home feeling the same way. He deserves that so much more than I can articulate for the things he’s given me over and over and over….willingly, unselfishly, relentlessly.

I would like to now report that I have officially conquered this dilemma I’ve had since the moment I met Rambo. Let me tell you why.

At heart, Rambo is a farmer. Once you’re a farmer – it’s in your blood. When I was 15 and dating Rambo, some nights the only way I could see him was to sit in the middle of the barn on a hay bale and talk to him while he milked cows for hours. In between every couple of cows finishing up – he’d come kiss me – and go back to milking and we’d talk the whole time. He worked his ass off. In fact, when Rambo’s Dad was called to serve in the Gulf War, Rambo was given permission to only go to high school for a few hours a day as he was suddenly in charge of running the family farm by himself – at 17 – while his Dad was at war. The milking, crops, land, his mother – all of it – was on his shoulders at 17. A couple of news places even did interviews with him because it was a heck of a story.

Anyway – he started out a farmer and he’ll always have it in his blood. Last night was proof of that.

Rambo and I have PT jobs that involve a sewer company for our Village. Rambo is the President of the Board for this company. I am the treasurer. It requires him basically to go to meetings and not much else – but Rambo does WAY more than that. He visits the plant, helps the plant manager and gives endless hours to the task. He loves it and giving back to our community is just a bonus.

Last night the plant manager was hauling sludge. Yes people I understand the irony of me and Rambo working for a poop company – the humor of me hating poop is not lost on me.

Hauling sludge (human poo) is lots of trips in a huge tractor and spreading the sludge in fields. It takes all night. Rambo saw our plant manager making the trips. I was in the office working and I heard him yell, “Baby – is it alright if I go ride with C in the tractor hauling sludge for a while?”

I asked how long. He said not long.

You should have heard the excitement in his voice.

I said do you have your cell phone? He said yes.

And he ran in and kissed me and said, “Love you – see you in a bit – I’m gonna go.”

This is the good part girls.


I even kissed him back and said, “Have fun”.

He left and I nearly fell off my chair realizing what I had just done. No tears or guilt trips or hateful words or selfishness. No planning, no warning…just a spontaneous outing. I let him go.

Even better? I didn’t miss him. I mean I missed him but I didn’t even look at the clock. I kicked ass through village work and got caught up. I read blogs. I had ME time. I gave the girls baths.

If you ask me what time he got back – I couldn’t tell you – because before I knew it I heard the door open and he came in and kissed me hello and couldn’t shut up about how much fun he had.

Score one for me. I owed Rambo that one…and quite a few more.

I did good people.

Oh and when I said my life is all about poop – I wasn’t kidding. Karma hates me.

Now come on – tell me how proud you are of me for doing something you all probably do every damn day without even flinching.

Now you understand why I can’t write a self-love letter right? I have so much yet to learn and be….so much work left to do.

The fact that Rambo knew he could literally run out the door without me falling apart? Well…in a way – that IS a self-love letter to me. Years ago Rambo wouldn’t have attempted that. The fallout wouldn’t have been worth it.

And now? There is no fallout!

YAY ME!!! Right?


Debi said...

That is amazing! You should be so proud of yourself! And you are right, that is a self-love letter. I can only imagine how difficult that was for you - but you did it :) Congratulations!

JourneyBeyondSurvival said...


That is a big big big deal.

Good job!

Laura Belle said...

I think in a round about way, you did just write yourself a love letter. Way to go on letting go! It's so hard sometimes. What am I talking about, it's freaking 'drive a knife in my heart' hard all the time for me.

But you did it! You get an 'Atta-girl' from me!

I know all about the farmer thing, Ryan was born and raised in the BIG city, but his extended family and his heritage has all been circled around farming, and all he wants to do is farm/ranch. We talk about it all the time; if we won the lottery, he gets thousands of acres, cows, and seed (and tractors of course). I get a freaking maid, butler, pool, art studio, and 1970 Mustang. our views are so different, but we still married each other.

Twix said...

I love this post. It shows how much he cares for you & loves you. He didn't just up and leave you standing there holding the bag. He asked you if you would be ok with it. He respected you. He put your, the two of you's, relationship first. High five for you recognizing that. Sounds like he had fun, even if it was poo. ;-) So happy for the both of you! High five chickie!!!!!

Stephanie said...

What a great post and honestly, this really spoke to me. It was something I needed to hear, for my own reasons. Oh and I have to ask, did he stink to the high heavens when he got home?? :)

Karen Butler Ogle said...

Thank you for posting this, Drazil. It is like looking at myself in the mirror. I have been incredibly selfish because of my insecurities with Dail. I don't feel good enough for him and so I'm always expecting that everything in his life is more important than me. It puts him under and incredible amount of pressure. I really needed to here this. Thanks, my friend.

Lonicera said...

I so enjoy your stories about Rambo - such a wonderful love story you two have. Better still, you're evolving together, no standing still for either of you. And you write so well.

Ice Queen said...

That was a love letter to yourself, Draz. Took you a minute or tow to get around to it. But yeah... That was good self love in letter form.

The fact that you could so casually kiss your guy and watch him take off to have fun (I am still gobsmacked that spreading shit is fun for some people, but, hey, different strokes :P) and have it not deeply effect you is so positive. I am proud of you, dearie.

Beth Ann said...

Damn you, Drazil. I'm supposed to be working, but I snuck some time to read blogs and now I have tears streaming down my face and I'm pretty sure the guy that sits next to me thinks I'm losing it. ::deep breath:: Lovely, lovely post. So honest and so beautiful.

Amanda Kiska said...

So proud of you!

Justawallflower said...

Wow, go you! I am very happy for you, and what this means for your relationship! How bad did he smell when he came home?

And I completely know what you mean about farmers! I grew up in a farming community. Farmers are awesome, and such hard workers, and yes, it is in their blood!

Sandy Lee said...

Yup. Yah you! Once when my hubby was leaving for a trip to China years ago I told him I hoped the plane crashed. I too always picked a fight with him before he left as I had to stay and do all the mom stuff by myself. I'm better too now adays. He's gets home tonight and I must say I've been so busy, I haven't missed him too much.

Love the Haulin' Sh!t (whoops-sludge) story. What a man. You really got a keeper there. For life. I think it was driving the tracker that really got his heart a beatin.

Dazee Dreamer said...

Yay for you. And ick for him. Sludge. I bet he didn't smell like a rose when he got home.

I'm proud of you. I've never even thought of you as someone like you say you are. Ever since I started reading you, you always sounded like you had so much faith in yourself. You rock woman. Don't forget that.

Lyla said...

Awww- that's an awesome story.

Plus, I can't stop imagining him being excited about spreading human poo on a field. Hahahaha-- that's just funny.

I dated a pig farmer in high school. Believe it or not, I get it :)

Stacey said...

Draz, that is a monumental step. You should be very very proud! I am happy for you. :)

Although, the idea of someone wanting to go push poo around with a tractor is beyond me. Way way beyond me. Haha!

Amanda said...

VERY well done, Draz!!

Wanting to push poo... Choreboy would probably get along with Rambo. Scary.

Read said...

That's a total self love letter - still on your list is giving yourself credit where credit is due. Love to you and your poop!

MandaPanda said...

You make great progress every day. I think the self affirmations people are doing are just their way of trying to find the self love and appreciate the change they're making too. You should try it (and I should take my own advice. lol).

mommykinz said...

I think you just wrote a love letter in your own unique way. Try it again! You never know how much love you have for yourself!