Domestic horrors! And six lashings with a wet mop for her!

from the personal pages …

My powerful need to help, contribute, assist, give and do good works is superseded by Marcy’s need to control and have things done just so within narrow rigid parameters.

That’s the kernel of truth gleaned from a vigorous discussion this morning in the kitchen.

Oh the horrors! My sticky note with phone numbers was found this morning on the ground by the hot tub.

The horror! It’d fallen or been blown off the hot tub’s stoop. In the dark. Where I was unable to see it during last night’s tubbing. How terrible!

(dog) Tazzy almost ate it this morning. Imagine had that happened!!

Why did I leave a piece of paper on the ground? Asked of me point-blank in the eye. No muss no fuss no forgiveness. I’ve committed a crime.

My explanation seemed to douse Marcy’s fire, temporarily.

That minor incident leads to a broader emotional discussion of All That I am Doing — wrongly — Without Asking around the house.

One woman’s contribution’s are another woman’s threat to rigid controls.

I bagged the garbage wrong. Used the wrong bag in the kitchen can. Didn’t latch-lock the storm door. Didn’t pick up a note that had fallen to the ground (without my knowledge). Didn’t attach the chain to the fence door. Didn’t plug back in the hand-warmer in the bathroom (though I hadn’t unplugged it).

This is the list of crimes I’ve committed (before I knew they were such) in my first nine days.

Have my contributions and efforts been positively acknowledged or received? Not. at. all.

Do nothing (that affects the household/maintenance) without asking first.

Having to ask at near every turn is a way to control.

Last week I was shown, upon my request, where the cleaning tools are, including the mop.

Not shown to me are two mops; neither explained is that one mop is used for linoleum floors, the other for the wood floors on the (infrequent) occasion when a new shine is applied.

One day, because it is my nature to contribute and take initiative and do what needs to be done without being asked AND to help the (elderly) Marcy and her ailing back, I vaccuumed and mopped the house.

I did not receive a positive response, rather a scolding for having used the wrong mop.

Rather than seeing that the cause of my wrongful mopping lay in the ABSENCE of information about two mops for two purposes, it is I who did wrong by not first asking to mop.

Near every move, every action, every step must fit in and coordinate rigorously and precisely with the established system. Almost nothing can be done without asking first.

And I’d best be damn sure that it’s done to established specifications. A deviation can result in hard looks, reprimands or exchanges between two (cohabitant) women behind my back.

“We do not see you. We see only our way and the disruption that you have caused and are causing by not adhering to the prescribed rules and methods. (Whether you have been informed of them is irrelevant.)”

(This is Spirit’s message regarding the present situation at home/”home.”)

The first rule, with few exceptions is: ASK FIRST.

Marcy said it herself: “I don’t understand you.” Of course not! I’ve been here for a smidge over a week! It takes time.

I doubt that she will come to understand in time based on the observation that she is a terrible listener. I articulated myself. I wasn’t heard.

Worse, what WAS heard are statements that I did NOT make, statements reshaped and twisted to fit her model and view of reality.

So in short, I will be leaving the housework to Marcy, based on her statement that my help is not helping her (and despite her denial that she made the statement that I clearly heard).

I cannot become invisible again. I cannot let another’s need for control and rigidity rob or squelch my light. I will retain my sense of wonder and humor and adhere to the rules to the best of my knowledge, which is dependent on astute observation and information from another. In this household, it is clear that when one or the other is in short supply, incidents burst. The rigid controls cease to exist, momentarily, and turmoil erupts.

Because a piece of paper was found on the ground. Not left (accusatory). Found!

Because the wrong mop was used.

Because the front storm door was left unlocked — ONCE — (2 locks on front door were secured).

Because I failed to put a new bag into the kitchen garbage can after taking out the trash.

Domestic horrors!

Better to retain bemusement than let another’s controls and rigidities weigh me down. Best to learn, laugh and grow. And forgive.

And keep the door open to a/another home where I will be received with gratitude rather than a beating over the head with a mop.

The right mop, of course, designated for reprimanding scoldings.


5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. inaformerlifeanexpat
    Aug 10, 2011 @ 03:34:20

    As the line from Stars Wars goes- ‘Have a bad feeling about this’


  2. lexiemom
    Aug 11, 2011 @ 10:08:40

    “Domestic horrors!” is right! I’m sorry you’ve been forced into this situation. Your home should be a refuge not a warzone. I hope you find somewhere else soon. It’s a shame after all your hard work trying to find a place, that this place turned out to be a nightmare. Best of luck to you in your search!


    • allycatadventures
      Aug 11, 2011 @ 10:29:53

      @lexiemom – It is, I reckon, the lesser of the two bad dreams (the other being the “closet room” as you may recall). I’m totally tapped out by this last housing search and don’t anticipate having the energy for the next until year’s end at the soonest.


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