After a long (unsolicited)blog rant, I advertised my birds in Craigslist. After hours of bitter arguing, I agreed to re-home all but Petey since he was the first one as well as the only one I wanted to begin with. I'd never intended on having more than one bird, Ralph!
So Petey will stay here until the ex gets his own place (again) and Petey goes with. Not too soon I assure you! We were up till 5am fighting. Granted, most of it was fueled by my post Cymbalta/opiate/mental illness fragility, but my ex is no more a saint than I am. He's also mentally ill and has his own set of evil ways. (Get HIM to admit that though? Lotsa luck.)
Which brings me to whine a bit about how heartbreaking it is when you feel like you're the only family member in the vicinity willing to be honest with yourself while simultaneously listening to emotionally dishonest family members accuse you of being that way. To make matters worse, I often end up confused and wondering if he's right. It's in my nature to question myself and take stock. The ex his family have a tendency to gaslight the living bejesus out of those who marry into the clan. Or are they? How would I even know?
I once saw an abuse poster that had this question listed among several others to evaluate whether or not you're being abused:
"Are you afraid of your husband/wife, bf/gf, etc?"
If the answer is yes, how are feelings of intimidation evidence of abuse? Much of my fear stems from past alcoholic abuse, knee-jerk reaction stuff. Some of the fear is directed at him but really just a reflection of my own feelings of inadequacy. I fear the bitterness and envy that eat me up inside that he has an inborn sense of entitlement while I struggle to believe I deserve anything. I feel he capitalizes on that.
There's one question that begs asking on those government subsidized mental health clinic wall posters:. Does your mate/friend laugh at you when you strike out at them in self defense (or retaliatory abuse) Do they make fun of you and smile while you seethe?
The more out of control my temper gets, the calmer my ex gets. Or used to. It's not working anymore because I've just become so broken and jaded and hateful and erratic that he says he's afraid of me now.
Who's abusing who? (Whom? Someone help me out here)
Regardless, a studio apartment for two is too small. Especially with four budgies and two cockatiels that fly around shitting on stuff and destroying shit. He's never even sorry for their destruction. He never apologies and he hardly cleans up after them. And yet I feel guilty for telling him that three cockatiels had to be stored in his garage. (It's okay. It's ventilated and cool.) He can put them in his apartment when he gets the fuck out of here.
That is all for now. The new Budgie owners are due any minute.
Pray their new home is happy. :)