Musings

Jul. 9th, 2017 12:29 pm
I know I haven’t written in a while, and there’s a reason for it. At work I’ve been devoting more time to studying intersex issues while grading. Liberty University ended yesterday or Friday, and so I’ve been busy grading and staying outside, because being outside saves me from having to sit there and listen to the continual babbling from B, who I am becoming more and more convinced is a psychopath. Everything I do or say is criticized, and any time I open my mouth, you can just see her expression melt because she doesn’t want me to be talking, ever. She wants me listening, and that’s it.
The only bright spot was yesterday when B and I went yard saling; I love going to yard sales but hate going with her because she loves to complain and it’s just more of the same of me sitting there listening to my faults in dull and dreary detail. Anyway, at the first yard sale we went to, we heard, ‘girls, there’s more over here…’ meaning us. That made me so happy! Of course, today, I was trying to put my arm around B and knocked something on this table behind me over, and that immediately caused her psycho side to come out. There is never a mistake with me; it’s always on purpose or because I’m stupid, etc. As much as I do love B, there is an understanding that this marriage needs to end so I can move on with my life, because it is only going to get worse.
I need to start organizing my two rooms better; while I know where most everything is, they are both very cluttered. Ordered a new fuzz pedal yesterday; hopefully it will do what the Big Muff pedal does. I think I’ll be doing some kind of looper pedal from Reverb.com with a payment plan.
This weekend went pretty well, surprisingly, considering how B and I often get at each other’s throats by the end. We decided not to go to an estate sale on Thursday, and I spent a considerable part of the day working on various projects, eventually installing four more of those blocks as a walkway. Friday we went somewhere, I forget exactly where but when we got home I went out to someone’s house on the other side of town and picked up flagstones that I laid out for the walkway leading down to where the new patio will eventually be. While there weren’t enough for the whole thing, the walkway appears to be shaping up nicely, and if I ever get this productive, I would move the stones aside and build up a fieldstone wall and then lay down a layer of sand and pea gravel. While pea gravel does have a tendency to travel, I would probably install some of that metal barrier to keep it in place. Two sets of Moonray lights came in, and I set them up. These are half a watt each light, and since the transformer can take up to ten watts, I suppose I can add another two sets and be okay. Saturday I got a set of six Hampton Bay lights, and installed them. These, too, are half a watt each, and then yesterday I got two more sets, which completely line the house side of the pathway. I’m going to eventually set up a transformer in the garage and have it lead to outside, on a timer, so that Bethany and I can sit outside and not be troubled by wandering critters. I got a number of flower boxes, which I am working on setting up, as well as some other random outdoor objects. Yesterday I set up two hanging lanterns on either post on the back porch. I’ve got a number of propagated shrubs going in several pots; will need to water them tomorrow and see how they are doing.
Saturday afternoon I picked up a teak wall cubby, which weighs a ton, and installed it today in the hallway over the ugly plywood that my parents installed when I was a kid. Later, Bethany and I will take down that wall (read: I’ll do it), and then there will be new paint and wallboard there. The trouble with that wall is that there is horsehair plaster, and as a result it could spark an issue for me, but anyway.
Last Wednesday I went to see Michael; he sold me a couple of guitar amps and a guitar; I had already picked up a twelve-string on Monday, so no more. The acoustic guitar he gave me on Wednesday sounds off like a cannon, and is made by Fender. Working on fingerpicking more; as a fun experiment I purchased a pick that has two-picks attached, separated by this spongy material to make it a little easier on the hands. It’s fun to play with but because I don’t normally play with picks that big, it’s a bit awkward. I love how it makes my guitar sound like an orchestra, and I am looking forward to seeing what it will make the big twelve-string sound like.
Just ordered the strings from Amazon.com. I love hearing 12-strings. I remember that massive acoustic monster my parents gave me for Christmas one year. It was so large that I couldn’t reach around it to play the strings. It wasn’t very comfortable to play. The Fender I have is a bit big, but not so much so that it becomes awkward to play. I like how I am slowly working more and more on finding MY style. Do not get me wrong; I love Creedence Clearwater Revival, and I will listen to them until the day I die, but in order for me to develop, I need to be working on my unique sound, my style, which is still developing, is a mix of styles. I enjoy the good, thumping bassline in Open D Tuning (D-A-D-F-A-D) that Skip James (Hard Time Killing Floor Blues and Lightnin’ Hopkins (Where Did You Stay Last Night?) used. Drop D (D-A-D-G-B-D) is an amazing tuning for fingerpicking, and even a variation on Open D (C-G-C-D#-G-C) sounds incredible. I’ve tried something that almost sounds jazzy (B-A-D-G-B-D) and it sounds good only on my broken-neck Les Paul. Open tunings are a great way to really get your mind working. There are numerous melodies I’ve created and borrowed from the greats, and I’m hoping that eventually I can make some kind of an album.
Financially, Bethany and I appear to be doing okay. We’ve bought a lot for the house, but I think we’re being wise about things. I owe 3k on one credit card and 2k on another, and B has 6k on her card. I got paid Saturday (About 1200 or so), so I’ll probably knock another grand or so off of mine.
Today I have to deal with a bunch of things, including Liberty U.’s Dean’s Report, etc. Grading, Grading, Grading. I’m also going to send a message to the Piper family coming out to them.
- Sedgy
Today has been an interesting day, to say the least. I was kind of in a dumpy mood in the morning despite heading down to Dunks to see my father’s friends, and after that I went outside to pull up some of the weed blocker that has been the bane of my existence since first putting it in a year ago. After that I went downstairs, did some work on Beowulf, followed by heading back upstairs to take care of some of the pictures that needed to be hung on the wall. However, I noticed I had a message from someone. Lo and behold, a message from Melissa! I thought she’d clean forgotten about me, but we would up going out to lunch and it was a very enjoyable time. It is so good to know someone who is so creative. I try had to follow her world building; it can be complex sometimes with my hearing loss. Finished hanging all the pictures; I’m roughly halfway done with Beowulf, and of course, now, Monday, I have discovered that I have not posted this yesterday.
Been thinking a lot lately about the third thread for ‘A Once Distant Memory.’ Ten parts; at least another three hundred thousand words. I don’t think I should even be thinking about it right now, considering I am still slogging through Part Nine. This is the Part where Stacy becomes a Christian, much to her father’s chagrin, and I am trying hard to make sure that I finish it before the summer. Parts Ten through Thirteen are parts that need major reworking, and I am hoping that this summer I can finish these parts and the footnotes. There will need to be some more editing, I think; one more look-see to determine if the blasted thing is worth anything.
Been thinking a bit about Bad Moon Rising and wondering if I should rewrite the thing, using the same structural framework I am using now. I suppose that there are many aspects of one’s first novel that we would all change. I might do something with it, and then again, I might not. I might edit it, and then include the original version at the end, for people to decide what they think is better.
Today I don’t have counseling; I guess my counselor is on vacation. I have to do the second part of Beowulf for the class tomorrow, and some minor grading. Today is going to be a bit on the cooler side, so I will likely stay at Quincy today.

Musings

Apr. 16th, 2017 01:47 pm
Few people leave a real legacy. They may leave behind bits and pieces of their lives in the form of bills, receipts for toys long broken, snapshots in the family albums, but few leave behind something as important as a diary. I know that I will not be having children now, or ever, and while this thought sometimes pains me, I know it is for the best. I know I can be negative sometimes, here, but this is truly my only outlet, since I have found that people do not often view me as someone to be listened to, but rather, tolerated. It’s my hope that people will eventually read what I have to say, and perhaps be impacted by it, the same way God has used hundreds, if not thousands, of other people to impact my life and show me His purpose. There are always going to be those who will hate me. Why do I care so much what others think of me? I don’t have to share what I am doing, who I am, or why with people? An incident Friday comes to mind, where I pulled into a 7-Eleven to grab a couple of hot dogs if I could, and some asshole nearly backed into me. I pulled into the space as he continued backing up, and then he pulls alongside and starts screaming at me. Well, I responded by saying he almost hit me. So I go inside, not thinking anything of it, and he parks in the middle of the parking lot. I went outside, got into my car, and he started approaching. Big guy, could barely walk, let alone run, and I did several sidestreets to make sure he wasn’t behind me. Just another reminder that my mere existence makes people uncomfortable.
Today, things were going okay until I forgot to do the dishes and B had and continues to rub my nose in it. And then Melissa Jewell was up here for a few days and of course I don’t even get to say hello to her because I am a worthless human being and not worthy of her friendship. I don’t know why I bother; it’s not like I was worth anything to her in high school. I’m not worth anything to anyone, to be frank; it’s like I’m invisible to the people I care about. Should I just not care about these people? Should I just not care at all? I notice David now has been avoiding me at work; we could have had coffee together but he decided not to text me. Maybe he does have a lot going on, and I certainly wouldn’t hold that against him, but at the same time there seems to be this growing distance. Does he realize I am transitioning? It’s certainly possible.
And of course B doesn’t want to hear any of this. She can yell and scream and complain about anything and everything while I sit there and pretend. Pretend what, to be happy? I don’t think happiness will ever come, and it’s not my fault, necessarily. I have to learn that people suck, people blow, and that I am not responsible for other people and the way they view me. Personally, I wish I could just become this hard, cold, woman that just refuses to let people in. That way, I cannot be hurt. But I pray daily that God won’t just let me grow hard. That He won’t just shut me down, and instead keep my heart soft.
I just want to disappear. I want to be free. I want to be free from sitting here listening to the constant reminder that I am a nothing, a nobody, and that my life means nothing to anyone. I just want to live. So I have a choice to make, I can either stop telling B my business, lower my expectations of everyone, and accept that God has a purpose for me, or continue to get into ridiculous arguments with B because everything that happens to me is my fault. B wants me on an anti-depressant. I think I will go on one, but more because if I don’t, she will continue to bitch and moan. If she were to divorce me, if she were to disappear, and I never saw her again, I promise whomever is reading this that the change in me will be revolutionary. Never again will I allow myself to be treated like this. Never again will I be so bold as to think that anyone from my past truly cares. My name will likely not be Stacy Sedgewood, but something else, if only because I don’t want those from my past to know that this is me. I’m not sure what my name would become, but one thing is for sure: no one here would ever see me again. To be honest, I’m not sure why I’m worried. I’m not worth anything to the people here, so no one would be looking for me in the future, would they?

Hump Day

Apr. 12th, 2017 08:42 am
Yesterday, I finished grading the class that ended Monday. It was a good semester, but so many students did the bare minimum required for the course that it is hard for me to think that this next class, the one that starts tonight, is going to go well, either. I will start doing review quizzes at the beginning of each class; the goal isn't to punish students, but rather, to get them to realize that unless they show up in my classroom regularly they aren't going to be able to pass the class.

There has been an interesting revelation in my life, one which has shattered me to the core. For the vast majority of my life I have been taught to sit there and listen. I have been treated harshly, judged unfairly by my peers, picked on, made fun of, beaten, made to feel unwelcome, and have just kind of existed, My solace, of course, was in my writing. It is my wish I could go back in time and change things, but after reading today’s scripture notes, including Luke 9:45, I am compelled to believe that God deliberately kept all this hidden from me. Why? Because He desires to see me in pain? I don’t think so. I think He did this because He has something special in mind for me to accomplish. Of course, me talking about my purpose at all results in B’s getting angry; just as earlier last year I told her about how Bill and I met, how he had prayed to meet someone whom he could help, and he met me. B’s response, that it wasn’t even Biblical, stunned me to the core, and I think a great deal of people would have said the same, not so much because it is not Biblical, but because it involves me.
So, yesterday I told B that I would eat here with her, at home, in order to spend time with her. I had no idea that doing that would cause so much anger, although I am used to it. I am used to being told that her anger is always justified, and mine is never acceptable. So I was sitting there at the table, and B started opening up with ‘I’m glad you’re here, I’m glad you’re here, but…’ and then she launched into an attack about how she didn’t know I was staying home for lunch, and how I caused all these problems for her. Now, what bothers me is this: if you say that you are glad about something and then use but, it invalidates everything you’ve said before it. I can say that here because this is my journal, and I’m not putting any more filters on for people. My experience has taught me that people watch my words like a hawk. I could say something completely valid and a bunch of people would just jump all over me. It is something that has happened since I was born. I am rarely welcome in relatives’ houses; they do not appear to care or want me over there, really. Someone can spend millions of dollars on a house, etc. I spend fifty bucks, I get yelled at.
After this ‘discussion’ I went to my counselor. I was sitting there in the waiting room when I happened to read an article about a trans woman who had experienced all kinds of abuse, all kinds of unfair treatment growing up. Reading this narrative was eye-opening to me. I’d never thought that the way I’d been treated, from how I walked to how I talked, etc. would be tied up into my gender identity. I mentioned it to B yesterday, who promptly brushed me off and told me that I had to understand: people care about me and they want to see me succeed in life. I remember Jordan, who got a free pass for having long hair, while I was shredded for the same. When the youngest girl cousin had to go to summer school her senior year of high school no one seemed to care; indeed, my hearing about it brought ire from my Uncle, who did not want me to know anything about the family. However, the fact that I was pretty lazy in my parents’ eyes during my senior year of high school has been brought up again and again and again to the point where it seems that will be the only thing I am ever known for.
What fascinates me is that it is only now, at almost thirty-eight years old, that I am realizing just who I am as a person. God hid all this from me. Why? Would it have really changed things had I not been married? I honestly don’t know, but I’m going to guess yes. If I had castrated myself as a teen I would likely have never gotten into these relationships, not that it really would have mattered much to me, anyway, but it would certainly have meant I wouldn’t be sitting here now, having wasted half of my life sitting down and listening to others tell me how to feel, how to act, etc.

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