I really should stop reading Machavelli "The Long Game"

This blog is again to keep a promise to those who read this, I promised to explain my playing of Wendy and I shall endeavour to do so here today. In one of my more lucid moments last February I saw how Wendy was and what she had become so I resolved to change that, now that meant playing the addict for a bit and slowing my own recovery while pocking and proding her in all of the ways that I knew would annoy her.

Cruel I know but there are times when you just have to no matter how distasteful it is to yourself, the strategy was just that in order to do her the most good I would have to be a vile little shit and keep pushing her. It was not easy as Wendy is at best difficult to annoy, but I knew there would be crack in that armour of defeat and acceptance of her lot in life. So the game had to begin there and then the trick was to be careful, I had a role to play and I had to play it 24/7 not an easy feat to do while keeping a hold of your true self in the mean time. A problem faced by all undercover police officers, the one thing I worried about was if the mask slipped and Wendy got a hint of what was going on, she almost did several times so I had to think fast to throw her off the scent.

Every time I saw her cry in frustration and pain it hurt but I had to carry on because it was ultimately for her own good, so I put my feelings aside and put the mask of cuel indifference on firmly. I feel I have to explain the term "The Long Game" it is a euphomism for a long term plan or strategy with a beneficial outcome for one or both parties, in this case both of us in the relationship.

Now I know Wendy has the strength and determination to move on and achieve what she can inspite of her conditions and take nomore shit from anybody even me.

I am a bastard but one with a good heart, and you know what? I think I can live with it.

Why my family sucks.

Last blog I promised an explanation about my Father, in all truth I think the term is somewhat stretched with him. Up until he left the Army I barely saw him so he often came home from exercise a stranger to me and even after he had left he was rarely there as he was spending all his time driving the buses for the local bus company, so he was pretty much a stranger in his own home but when he was there he was very unstable, his mood would switch from calm and plesant one minuite to very aggressive to violent the next all because of a wrong word, be it mistimed or placed, or a task he odered not done on time to an unspecified standard.  Because of this I grew up in a house of fear and chaos, only getting respite from it either at school where I felt alien and alone even amongst friends or when he was at work doing an all night shift with a mother who was at best emotionally absent thusly about as maternal as a stone.

These early years made me into an emotionally stunted bully who really did not have he tools he needed to survive and thrive in life, when dad was placed on the sick by the family doctor due to untreated psychological issues of a vague unexplained nature (at least to me anyway), things only got worse for the family with him constantly at home the stress only mounted.  Dad was, or should I say is a highly needy person who frankly should have never lisened ot the tales of glory from his family about world war 2, this was not what my mom wanted  in a husband niether was it something she could handle long term so three days before my eighteenth birthday she left the family unit. To be finally truthful I knew she told me the year before she needed to go before she did something drastic to either herself or him, but it still hit hard when I had to watch as nan wrestled an overdose of pills off dad so he didn't kill himself though I wish she hadn't  because I had to care for him for ten years this was partly my own fault because I should have walked away once he tried to use he suicide card one too many times, but I frankly care to much about family which leaves me open to his mind games.

Now my one major problem is that I now have to care again for Wendy, this is because I put her in the positiion she is in now. It was my fault that my flat was in the state it was, so it is my responsibility to care for her. But; my experiences with daddy dear has left me with issues that have left me somewhat introverted and avoidant because I was used and abused by his violent temper and self pity, ad I can see much worse in store for Luke my little brother, but again, that avoidance of responsibility comes back because I m still afraid of him. 

I don't know how to say I'm sorry enough to Wendy for what I've done to her, I know I have failed her myself and I am failing Luke. But NO MORE! I cannot avoid responsibility any longer! 

Just Bite the frog damnit!

Looking Back

I know its been a while but there have been a few changes recently, one of which has been my state of mind and my relationship with Wendy, another has been a change in my medical state. Looking back on my blog I have noticed that it is incredibly whiny and self pitying not what I wanted in the slightest  but it happened, possibly due to the unresolved issues I have with my family in particular my rather abusive father which I'll explain fully later after I work out what I want to say about him, but suffice to say the abuse was mostly psychological along with years of subtle programming.

Earlier in the year I changed my doctors sergery and finally recieved the help I needed for years, my current doctor put me on Sertraline Hydrochloride at fifty milligrams. So I took one after I filled out the precsrption when I had some lunch, the effect was almost instantainious, everything suddenly became interesting and lighter in myself. After doing the shopping which is on a Wednesday for us I had to fight to keep myself from examening everything at close quarters. Though my treatment of Wendy has yet to get out of the three day cycle she has told me of numerous times along with several arguements that have ended in another destroyed cup and myself almost being thrown out of the flat, admittedly I had been playing her but only for her own good.

To explain this will take some time and maybe another blog from the heart, I have wound up with a Guinea Pig of my own which has helped me in my own personal journey. It took a few hours for us  to name this little fuzzball but we finally settled on Gizmo, now he was not really intended to e mine but he sort of adopted me when we got him after Alphonse died. Something else I'll put in my next blog due to the sheer grief I felt and still feel now because I was not there for him or Wendy, well I'll end it there for now because of the little fuzzy is watching me with the fuss me look.

Be Excellent to each other and Blessed Be o all
Steve