Wouldn't It Be Nice

You may consider this a (kind of) story, if you’re a radical postmodernist, or maybe a section of a chapter, if you’re more of a traditionalist; otherwise, this is just a fragment.

 

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It seems quite obvious to me now where the origin of our previous (if they be so) problems lies: She has cleaned up her act (as they say) so much recently that the contrast with her previous behavior is in-your-face amazing. I would always want to think, earlier, that, yes, she has a problem, but I too contribute to it, and I was convinced to think that way (I realize now) because, via her denial, she told me so. And, still hanging onto that belief, I seem to want to assert it here again, out of my own sense of guilt (as repressed anger, which in turn is repressed hurt at seeing how she manipulated me in this way) and/or conditioned (by her) response; but it’s just not true. The truth is, it was and has always been her. Without the impetus she provided, which she has (miraculously it seems, though I know it’s my application of simple behavior modification techniques finally beginning to take effect) learned how to control and withhold, I feel no need to defend myself and withdraw from her presence, if not literally, then at least psychologically [which she, in her turn, claimed was the cause of her distress, i.e., me being distance, which she drove me to in the first place, by her (nasty, bitchy, angry, pissy, complaining, controlling, vengeful--i.e., as transference, which most of the preceding is also) behavior, thus making her the ultimate cause of her own distress]. So, in short, it has been her all along. I know this for sure right now because, absent her negative behavior toward me, everything is fine. There is no contention between us. She goes out of her way to be, if not all the time outright nice, at least not literally complaining about me for being who I am. She’s given up her attempts to control what I do and, worse, who I am. She used to say (as a veiled complaint) that she guesses that she was the one who had to change because her behavior was neurotically based and therefore (in theory) reversible, whereas mine was genetically based (autistic) and thus pretty much fixed. I never actually bought into that explanation, because it wasn’t quite true (my reactive behavior is determined more by my own neurotic tendencies and the autistic response occurs well after the fact of confrontation); but, because it favored my position in the relationship, I didn’t argue the point with her, but let it stand. Nevertheless, it is proven (I conclude) by the behavioral changes she has made that she had been in fact the “instigator” all along--as I had often initially claimed, only to backslide away from my determined analytics when confronted with her denial, not wanting to challenge it and make matters worse, always willing to sacrifice a little bit of myself in order to allow her a bit of face-saving. But, I see quite clearly now, it was all her; she has always been the provocateur [provocatrice?]. I should have seen this (and I did, in a way, though I often backed away from it) clearly all along; and I would have if I didn’t so often step into my own line of sight, willing to take the blame in order to keep the peace. I have always been this way. Some people call this being laid-back or unassuming; I call it what it is, non-assertive at best, but more accurately, cowardly or fearful of confrontation, uncertain that my own studied and insightful opinions and beliefs hold enough validity to maintain an argument in the face of dissent. I’m doing this right now, backing way from my clear insight that she has been the instigator all along, subconsciously feeling like I should take at least a part of the “blame” for our, as she had put it, “inability to make it work.” But I see how this other side of me, the sheepish side, actually refutes any conclusion I might otherwise reach that I, in any way, instigate relational difficulties: Yeah, I often don’t “fit in”; but not because I take an active role in “standing out.” Rather, people (NTs) cannot accept me as I am. I do not wish to contend. I wish to be accepted for exactly what I am. And, when others will do that, I am an amiable, happy-go-lucky guy; and, when others will not do that, I am at best a square peg unable to fit into any of their round holes--or, worse,  I am the guy they feel they must try to convert to their way of being, which is what they call “sociable”--which it is not; truly sociable people meet everyone at least half way, they do not try to pressure or manipulate people into being like they themselves are. This is what she had been trying to do to me for so long: she wanted me to be the guy she wanted me to be; she wanted me to wear the clothes she liked to see men wear; she wanted me to eat the foods she wanted me to eat, watch the shows she wanted to watch, in short, behave the way she wanted me to behave. And when I would not or when I could not manage to consistently conform to her way of thinking (I did try for a while, but I soon enough became aware that it was a never-ending process of complaints against me, the more I complied, the more compliance she thought she could effect), she got pissy and blamed me for the discontent that was her true self projected. And, now that she has given this up (or more likely, hidden it from sight--although there does seem to be some evidence that her therapy is working, that her own insight into her behavior is improving), it becomes clear that this behavior of hers had been the problem from the start. Life here is so much more peaceful now that she has “changed.” I can only hope that the change is permanent.

 

She may never be able to admit that it was I who precipitated the change in her. She had to go out and find a third-party therapist to confirm the analytics that she could not accept from me, that she had to believe were mere “psychologizing”; and she may never understand how my application of contingency management drove her to do just that and, as she did it and verified my conclusions, how those contingencies reinforced the changes she concluded she had to make. But that’s okay. Maybe, as long as I understand it all, that may be enough--as long as she will not insist, in some contentious (regressive) way that starts the whole dysfunction all over again, that she did it all on her own, as long, that is, as she doesn’t start attacking and “abusing” me again for believing what I know to be true. If she doesn’t, I am happy to hang back and allow her to live within her own delusions, if she resists my insights into them when I will simply point them out. Because this has been a huge part of the problem all along: I point out her (everyone’s) erroneous ideas and she (everyone) attacks me for my efforts. If they simply (amiably) disagree with me, okay. Fine. Who am I to insist my ideas on anyone? But If they vehemently attack me, ridicule me, belittle me (as she often enough used to do) for what I believe, see, know, it’s a different story. I had gotten to a point with her that I said nothing about anything I thought might provoke her bad behavior toward me unless she first brought the issue up, when she would want me to agree with her, but when I would not want to be dishonest just to maintain the peace, but would nevertheless be as kind as possible in my dissent, which she would take as an attack on her person and attack back, when I did not attack her in the first place, so that, in effect, her “counterattack” was an attack against her own misinterpretation--which has been, I assume from what evidence I have gleaned from what she has told me thus far, the story of her life. (It’s a pattern she has repeated with all the men in her life, beginning with her father.) Hopefully, now, that more caustic phase of our life together is over. That would be nice.

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Author's Note

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I’m primarily interested in hearing about structure, both re this piece as well as generally, ideas on how this kind of personal, introspective material can be fitted into a longer book length work while maintaining a focus of sorts. Perhaps it's not possible, perhaps I'm just chasing my tail here; but I've got to give it a try. (See my profile for an expanded explanation).
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Reviews

[Ed Hart]

prescription: read this five times a day as though you were reading it for the first time, read it as though you were someone else, then see if you can find Waldo