One of my side hustles is offering legal advice and the question I get most is “Should I call the cops?”
Once I would have said yes. I like cops because they are protective. However, I’ve come to realize the answer is no.
Cops are not themselves. They are teeth in a giant mouth. The mouth of the legal system. You don’t want to end up in its belly. You don’t want to end up like me.
How I wish I could go back in time just a couple weeks and change my fate by refusing to speak to them.
But I am so used to speaking my mind in worlds where there are no consequences. It’s what I do. I didn’t know that if you flap your jaws in the presence of cops your whole life can change in an instant.
I wanted to talk to them. I was distraught, semi hysterical. I couldn’t stop crying. But I didn’t want anything to happen. I asked them if it was safe to talk to them. They said it was. Nothing would happen. I was so dumb back then. I didn’t know the role of cops is to move food from the mouth into the belly.
Next thing James is in jail. Not what I wanted. I pleaded with the cops, telling them they would be punishing me more than anyone. Without James I literally had zero access to money, phone, transportation etc (100% of his funds are in crypto which I don’t know how to access.) Do you have any friends or family? No. Well, don’t worry, there are plenty of resources to assist you. Don’t worry. There are so many resources out there. Just call this number and they’ll take care of you.
I called the number. They said they maybe I could have two bus passes if I promised to use them for something important and not to go gallivanting around town.
Every step along the way I am told not to worry- there are so many resources available. They are protecting me. I say being homeless doesn’t feel like protection. They say well maybe they can get me a discount on a counseling session. I say I don’t need mental help. They say well maybe we could get you into a pottery class at the helping hands center. Do you like crafts?
I am The Victim. Everywhere I go there are Victim’s Advocates. They pull me into little chambers where there are crayons and coloring books. They give me hugs and stare into my eyes with caring looks. I try to explain that I’m neither retarded nor insane. My concerns are material. I don’t want to be homeless. They tell me my life is worth more than my home. Yeah, but I really don’t want to be sitting out on the sidewalk with no place to go. I have two dogs. Honey, I understand that but we need to keep you safe. There are so many resources.
Oh really. The night the cops arrested James they didn’t want to take me back home for safety reasons. So they tried to find a women’s shelter to put me in. Every shelter within a hundred mile radius was full. Finally they found a shelter where I was allowed to be locked in a little room next to a trash can. I was hyperventilating & screams would come out because I didn’t want James to be arrested. There was a woman on the other side of the glass. She was laughing with her friend because she had asked me if I wanted her to call a paramedic and I didn’t know what one was.
The shelter was basically a female prison. They said I couldn’t enter the main building unless I was showered & put in a new outfit. Hard pass. There was one room where 20 women slept on bunks. Some women high on drugs were banging on the door to the trash room trying to get in.
A magistrate has ruled I can have no contact with James until his trial. Not even through a third party. And no financial support either. For my own protection. Because there are so many resources out there.
I will survive though. Facebook friends sent me money to get me through the first round of utilities being turned off. Selling my possessions on ebay is working better than expected. I found an extra mini part time job. But what if I didn’t have these things? What if I had kids rather than dogs? What if I hadn’t known to open a bank account the week before due to being an astrologer? Without that one piece in place I’d have no water or power. It makes me feel weird that putting me in peril is happening in the name of making me safe.
A lawyer said it’s cause they are terrified of women getting killed by their husbands cause then everyone gets in trouble. The magistrates, the cops, the mayors. Whereas if the women die in other ways, not their problem. After all there were plenty of resources out there.
So anyway, my legal advice is this- the cops are not your girlfriends. Think twice before spilling your guts because your whole life can change in an instant.
I’m scared because tomorrow an astrological storm begins. It’s in James’s chart, not mine, but those are the worst. My transits tend to play out more internally- I draw a black cloud in my journal- while his involve car chases, explosions & wild animals.
Maybe it will be okay. My current strategy is to try to talk about transits as much as possible before they happen. “By the way James, tomorrow at 2 pm you’ll have an explosive rage transit.” He still feels the energy, but expecting it makes it less likely to be randomly projected at the nearest target (me).
This works well for little moon transits, which only last a few hours and are mostly about feelings anyway. But the upcoming storm is about 8 days long. The sun will ignite an underground river of slut fuel. A couple titans duke it out in the house of sex, death & money. It may be okay. Storms happen all the time. I just try to worry about them as much as possible before hand in case it helps.
As I shared before, I’m currently having a Saturn square Mercury transit. It’s basically shining a spotlight on all the negative thoughts I hold, all the things which bring me down. So while the voices are telling me I suck day and night, the good part is, it’s also giving me a chance to change some of my problematic thinking.
For example, I’d like to retract a blog post I wrote a few days back, expressing my love for the book ‘Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.” I’ve decided it’s a crock of shit. And this is after 4 years of devotion. I even put the author on my top ten heroes list.
Cause when it comes down to it, what the book is really saying is suck ass constantly and you’ll have less friction in your relationships. Which is true. But is it a good way to live? Cause all those aspects of yourself you suppress just pile up behind you like ghosts. Eventually they cause problems of their own. Suppression of self is an emergency measure to use when kidnapped- it shouldn’t be a long term marriage strategy. It can’t be the ideal.
Although things are going pretty well with James. We found a new hobby. Watching movies. In the theater, where popcorn is $5 but refills & melted butter are unlimited. It’s the best thing ever. I like it when he chooses the movie so I am immersed in a world of foreign, exotic energies.
Not to sound schizophrenic, but it really feels like these movies are being handcrafted by God and filled with special messages just for me. I learn so much about astrology, the future, men, myself and everything really. It’s great.
2. The Black Phone. This perfectly expressed the third decan of Pisces we are now in. A time when people must be willing to confront the darkness and finally gather courage to stand and fight.
3. Jurassic Park. Traumatic. People getting eaten triggers me. I ran out of the theater crying, but James used logic to calm me down. He said the dinosaurs were CGI and not puppets. Therefore it would be impossible for them to eat anyone. He also explained that watching bad guys get eaten is good for men’s testicles. (I’m paraphrasing.) So I returned to my seat and watched the rest of the movie. It made me feel tough actually, and getting tough in preparation for 2024 is one of my goals.
4. Elvis. A beautiful movie. I didn’t get to extract its meaning though, cause at the end when I was crying and letting it all sink in James began whispering in my ear all the clues that Elvis was gay. I felt his theory held water but the mental processing erased the movie’s emotional impact on me. Using intellect to dry up emotion is the gift and curse of Virgo.
Have you read “Men are From Mars, Women are from Venus”? It is insane. The author describes my conversations with James word for word. He states the exact words I am hoping James will say, then the exact words James says instead, and explains the reason for the disconnect. It’s incredible.
I was going to share some muggets I learned, but decided I must first read it over and over, every day for an hour or so, until it becomes a part of me. The principles make so much sense while reading, but in real life you get lost figuring out how to apply them. I just need to simmer in this wisdom until it becomes part of my bones.
The basic gist though is don’t wear yourself out doing nice things for men. They don’t like this because it reminds them of their mother. What a man really needs is:
A) Permission to be emotionally unavailable so he can do man things, like think about problems. Men go into robot state to recharge and they must fully recharge before they are capable of bonding.
B) Approval and acknowledgment. But this doesn’t have to be as exhausting as it sounds. Think of the man as a robot. He only needs a straightforward acknowledgment of tasks completed and problems solved. “Thank you for taking out the trash.” No goo, no frills.
The most important mecret though is that men hate criticism. And they hear criticisms in statements which females would find loving. Because their core insecurity, is “Am I powerful? Am I capable? Am I being viewed as powerful and capable?” Females, on the other hand, are wondering “Am I lovable? Am I loved? Do I have care and support?”
For this reason, females love it if someone offers to help them. They share ideas and advice as a form of affection. They like being fussed over. Offering a man help, advice or fussiness, however, can easily be construed as an insult. You are telling him he is a pathetic little boy who can’t do anything right without mommy’s help.
So never offer to help men. Don’t give advice or suggestions, unless they ask. (When men DO ask for advice, however, this means they truly want it, whereas females may ask for advice when they are actually seeking care and affection.) And avoid criticism as much as humanly possible.
Now I’m still not 100% sure what you are supposed to do in cases where you are riding bucket seat in a car that a man is driving off a cliff. Is there some way you can suggest he turn left that won’t mortally offend him and cause him to press the accelerator harder? I can only hope multiple readings of this book will reveal the answers to me.
Still, the good news is- give less. Save your care for yourself. When you make yourself happy, that will make your man happy too, since he will take credit for your happiness. Likewise, when you are unhappy, men take credit for that. Hence, the expression of natural emotions like sadness and anger can be construed as insults by a man. Your tears may be telling him that he sucks as a husband and you wish you had married the neighbor.
This is the other tricky part. Females thrive on expressing the full range of emotions. If we emit happiness all the time, we become frayed and brittle. Negative emotions are our healing waters, where we go to regenerate. They give us depth and wisdom. But to men, they are threatening. And an insult to their competence as husband.
Women talk about negative feelings to heal and create bonds. Men don’t do this. If they express negative emotions, it means they are trying to attack or blame someone. So when they see women being negative, they feel attacked. And they counter-attack. Then women go into shock because they don’t understand why they are getting attacked when they were looking for love and bonding. Degeneration begins.
Now, the book says that if men can truly understand that expressing negative feelings is part of female nature- and not intended as an assault- they can gradually restrain their defensive impulses. They can learn to just listen and even say things like hmmmm, oh really? and tell me more. Then they discover that by simply listening, the female’s negative feelings magically transform into positive feelings, including love and appreciation for the listener. This gives men the sense of accomplishment they crave.
So the real challenge lies in convincing men not to be threatened by female style expression. How to do this though, when there is no chance men will read relationship books themselves? * I don’t know, but it must be done. Cause even if a female does everything right- gives space, appreciation, zero criticism etc- if she can’t express the full range of feelings there is no chance she will feel satisfied. She will either pop or fade away, and the man will be left with the very sense of failure he was trying to avoid.
* I just read this to James and he said you could get men to do this by simply explaining it to them. However, you may need to be patient and remind them over and over that you only need them to listen until they are able to retrain their defensive reflexes.
(Saturn is squaring my Mercury causing me to hate everything that comes out of my mouth. If I sound like I’m eating a robot, that’s why.)
I’ve been in that phase again where I write a million blog posts then delete them cause I can’t stop imagining all the reasons people will hate me for anything I say.
Personally I love to read people writing about their own experiences. Whether it is trudging across Antarctica or making their husband a sandwich, I don’t care. But when writing about myself, the voices in my head start calling me a self-absorbed, navel gazing narcissist. Sometimes real people do too.
So then I become an intellectual. A defensive posture. It makes men think you are smart and respect you more. Sometimes it feels like men are highly cue based when evaluating intelligence. A woman in spectacles discussing science is intelligent. A woman gluing cotton bears onto a wreath is not. But I can’t maintain being intellectual. It feels like walking on my hands.
And the Heard-Depp trial is ‘triggering’ me. But I’m afraid to say this. If you want your biscuits, this is the time to say you believe men can be abused just as easily as women. You are supposed to say it is just as bad for a woman to push a man- even if he doesn’t move- as it is for a man to push a woman- even if she falls into a bathtub and hits her head. They are equally bad. It’s violence either way!
You are supposed to say that domestic abuse is a genderless crime. And male victims are too shy to come forward. Depp is helping to change this.
But it’s hard for me to imagine a female using physical force to dominate a man. Even moreso in a case like this where Depp is surrounded by body guards. Not to mention endless money, friends, family, staff, homes, vehicles, planes, yachts, guns, knives etc.
It wouldn’t be impossible. But the only way I could see it happening is if Heard managed to establish a guru-like grip over Depp’s mind. But it is clear from the trial that she was not holding his brain in thrall. Drugs and his demons did that.
Perhaps many do not understand the difference between physical aggression and abuse. Lobbing a ball of socks at someone is not abuse. Punching a man, grabbing a woman’s arm & leaving a bruise, screaming, calling someone a bad name… you can only determine the significance of these events by looking at the larger pattern. If Monica slapped Clinton for gizzing on her dress would that make him a battered husband? Not from my perspective. If she stabbed him through the eye with a pen then we are entering new territory.
Because women can commit acts of violence towards men. They could marry an old man for money then slip poison in his food.
But domestic abuse, imo, is when a person uses intimidation, manipulation, violence & control of resources to establish dominance over their partner, making them unable or unwilling to leave despite bad treatment.
How many men exist who are physically afraid of their wives but too scared to leave? How commonly do women cut off men’s access to money, social contacts and transportation while dominating their bodies and threatening to kill them if they escape?
I’m wincing because the next statement will probably shower hate on me, but it seems possible that trace elements of domination are present in many if not most heterosexual relationships. It’s more than men being stronger, it is also how they are built for war and competition while women obsess over connection, frequently placing them in the role of trying to please.
We try to make things gooey and soft. We want to wear matching pajamas. We glue cotton bears onto a wreath. Men don’t do this. I don’t know why. I’m not judging them for this. I’m just trying to state the obvious in a culture which punishes us for doing so.
Would you like to watch a two minute video of a dog’s face accompanied by a song about a frog?
Slipper’s name is substituted for Mr. Froggy’s though cause she loves the sound of it. I also like to read her Bible verses where it’s God talking directly to Slippers. “I shall cover Slippers with my feathers, and under my wings Slippers will rest.”
I haven’t written here in a long time because as usual I’ve been swallowed up by various obsessions.
Obsessing over how to become the most practical person that ever lived. But after weeks of agonizing all I could think of was to reorganize my mineral collection. By chemical properties rather than colors. I’m not sure how much this increases my chances of survival but at least it felt manly.
I’ve been learning more about geology in general though sedimentary rocks are the bane of my existence. They seem supernaturally boring. I like minerals much more than rocks. Things such as fossils bore me to tears. Although the aversion then causes a weird attraction since boredom itself is one of the things which fascinates me. I find boring subjects, items & people magnetically attractive. I can’t endure their presence long though before I start to lose consciousness.
Obsessing over building more base notes & deep colors into my personality. Probably because I imagine this will make me more practical & able to survive. Plus, I worry that if my aura is too light & high I will drain others of their vital substance. So each morning I spent a few minutes trying to sing the deepest notes I could.
Obsessing over controlling the universe through magic. I won’t even bother discussing this one except to say that it didn’t work. And also, that magic has nothing to do with wicca or spells or kettles or frogs. It is just about harnessing the energy that already flows through the universe to make it work for you. Just like electricity, water turbines & nuclear power. The universe is complicated though so I never get very far.
Obsessing over male psychology in the hopes of more smoothly co-existing with Black Licorice (husband) also known as The Godfather. Haven’t made much progress with this either. I’m just hoping the more practical I get, the more things will fall into place.
So as usual, all my obsessions fail & I eventually come crawling back on my knees to music as a source of comfort. And this time politics too, as a source of discomfort. I am running for state delegate. James wanted me to do it. I didn’t realize it entailed anything beyond slapping your name on a ballot, so oops.
Door knocking has turned out to be fun though. The stressful part is that Black Licorice wants to go door knocking with me. He does not want me to go by myself. But he is rarely up and dressed before nightfall. So what to do? Play the good female, go with the flow & accept that I lose? Be the bossy lady & attempt to drag him out of bed early accepting the consequences? Or go by myself while he is sleeping & just don’t tell him? I don’t know what is right.
Until recently I didn’t understand why anyone cared about females entering politics. Now I kind of get it. There are issues that specifically impact women. And men- being more geared to action than introspection- aren’t necessarily going to think these issues through from a female point of view.
Recently I’ve been dealing with the issue of abortion, for example, since this is the biggest reason many women won’t vote Republican & I am hoping to bring more women into the Republican party. I think it isn’t just the stance that bothers women but the callous framing of it. (“She knew what she was doing when she spread her legs.” is a statement I have heard a lot recently.) To my surprise, in the conservative framework, the responsibility of not having sex & also birth control lies solely on the woman. If she gets pregnant & suffers greatly as a result she deserves it. Cause she spread her legs.
Meanwhile, the vast majority of pro-life men EXPECT women to have sex before marriage and would not date them if they didn’t. (By their own admission.) They believe in free love. I cannot square these two positions. She shouldn’t have spread her legs. But she is expected to spread her legs. When I suggest that not fornicating should be part of a pro-life stance, they say what goes on in the bedroom is nobody’s business. I tried to float making fornication illegal but no one would go for it. This would restrict their freedom, their choice, which suddenly became more important than “The Slaughter of the Innocents.”
In addition, they do not believe it is their job to marry the mother of their child, which is the only arrangement under which pro-life makes sense to me. You can’t just funnel women into single motherhood regardless of their ability to cope. But the men felt this idea was totally coo coo. Getting married should be their choice. And she knew damn well what she was doing when she spread her legs. None would support a pro-life bill that declared the mother & father to be married by natural law.
Even worse, men were not willing to be compelled to be implanted with a uterus to carry the baby themselves if this became necessary to save it’s life. You can’t force someone to do that! It should be their choice!!!
Color me disillusioned.
Although I will say the conservative women seemed willing to take the blame and suffer to live out their values. I don’t know why they don’t expect more of the men. Except I do. Men like you better when you don’t challenge them. Challenging them rarely works out in your favor anyway. The worse of a mood James is in the more I find myself complimenting him, serving him & agreeing with everything he says. It’s just a self-protective instinct.
The only difference between me and conservative ladies is they feel good about their submission to men because they see it as a virtue. I see mine more as a failing, or a survival decision at best. Cause I believe the world gets better when women are willing to speak and men are willing to listen. But this is hard for both of them. Maybe the only way women can pull this off is to band together. Many great changes in the world have happened as a result of female movements and associations.
Anyway, since all the planets have been travelling through my house of possessions, please allow me to share with you a few possessions I have acquired.
Keys. Although I’ve lived in this house for 4 years, I only now got my own key & key chain. Two actually. (The one on the right was sent to me by mistake & not a fabric I would choose though I have grown to love it.)
A bag. Owning this bag has been my dream for l10 years and now I have it.
Finally a phone which I will need it for the politics thing. I haven’t had a phone in years.
A windowsill full of cars & motorcycles. Hoping this causes a new car to appear in real life. Our current car has a smashed out window & no brakes. The stickers are so old that every car ride includes a cop chase. Black Licorice drives the car wearing glasses that have only ONE lens- a scratched lens- & he attaches them to his head with dental floss. This makes me nervous especially since he frequently goes through a wide range of emotions while driving.
Sunglasses- they are sitting on my head. I associate sunglasses with practical people who run around doing things and need to keep the sun out of their eyes. And after getting them I actually have started running around doing things trying to keep the sun out of my eyes. That is the Kanawha river.
Have to include this photo of Patton since it is the first one that captures his true nature. He is an aggressive dog & highly protective.
Slippers, the half-blood hound. She is my soft thing but has hurt her leg.
My political magnets that I am handing out while door knocking. I love anything with small flowers on it.
And the flowers are symbolic too. While I’m running as a Republican, I don’t represent conservatism, but the desire to preserve freedom so humans can continue to be organic creatures with feelings & thoughts running free, not drones of the phallocracy.
Conventional wisdom always encourages people to be vulnerable, open & honest. But I struggle with the reverse- the feeling that it isn’t okay to withhold & keep thoughts to myself.
Especially in marriage. James wants me to tell him everything & says it is damaging if I don’t. Which is great in theory, since I have the desire to share all my thoughts & feelings. But in reality it doesn’t work out so well. Frequently he will get angry about my thoughts or tell me why they are incorrect & then I am forced to go through an endless wrangling process trying to defend them. The process is confusing & doesn’t end until I have either accepted his replacement thoughts or am too tangled up to function anymore.
Now to someone else this might be no problem. They would just share what they wanted to share and keep the rest to themselves. But I have this compulsive feeling that my perceptions must be validated by another person before I can trust them. I can hardly be certain the sky is blue without first asking someone. And I also have this compulsive feeling that I must obey James. I can’t withhold information unless he gives me permission to do so, regardless of how much confusion & discomfort sharing may cause. Basically I don’t trust my own mind & have no will of my own.
I guess this traces back to when I was a teenager & my first husband was my spiritual guide & I needed to tell him absolutely everything so he could remove my ego, realign my thinking & enable me to achieve enlightenment. The process involved lots of screaming & public humiliation, including sexual, since these are the most tried & true methods of ego removal. Since then, I have never been able to regain that feeling of trusting my own mind and feeling that I am my own master. I don’t even know how to explain it to people who take having their own mind and will for granted.
I am trying very hard to put these boundaries back in place but it is a struggle. I don’t feel I have the right to make choices for myself without asking someone else’s permission and am scared of what will happen if I do.
My husband likes control. I don’t mean this as a bad thing and maybe it is even a quality I admire. But one rule of our relationship is that he is allowed to make decisions while I am not. He can decide what to do with money- and spend enormous sums- without consulting me. I cannot access money without consulting him and telling him what I wish to buy. The flip side is that he is much more financially generous with me than he is with himself. Generally he will get me whatever I want- even if it is frivolous or wasteful- while being stingy with himself. And this same pattern applies to all aspects of our relationships. If I want something & it is within his power to give it to me, he probably will. But I am not allowed to make decisions without consulting him, whereas he is allowed to make decisions without consulting me.
I am supposed to trust him. But he isn’t supposed to trust me. I am deemed incapable of making any significant decisions even if they impact no one but myself. As an example, I want to see a shrink & there is one nearby I can see for free. Not because I am looking for guidance, I just want the experience of talking to a human without feeling it is such a struggle to get my thoughts out and have them heard and accepted. I just want to experience something new- the feeling of noncombative communication.
But James is against this. So what are my choices? Try to change his mind? Trying to convince James of anything is impossible. The certain outcome is that I will end up adopting his perspectives because anything else becomes too unpleasant. I could go behind his back, but that would violate my compulsive need to be transparent with him. So the only real option is to tell myself it isn’t a good idea anyway.
The official justification for obeying him is that he is more grounded than me and makes better choices. (I should add here that I am sometimes allowed to make choices- it is just that he decides which choices I am or am not allowed to make.) But the truth is I am just scared of what will happen if I don’t obey him. I am afraid he will find a way of punishing me or else stop loving me which is a punishment itself. Any time I attempt to assert my will it turns into a horrible fight from which it can take me a long time to recover.
I feel like everyone reading this will think either A) Holy shit you are a dumbass or B) Wow, what a horrible wife writing something which could cast her husband in a bad light.
And I have no defense against being a dumbass. I am a fucking dumbass and I live this every day. But I am not a bad wife.
The other day I told James I was suffering from having no one to talk to, that I couldn’t be real with anyone or even on my blog. He said, “Why not? You can write whatever you want.” I said, ” Well I’m worried that you won’t like it.” He said “Just try it and find out- it will be fine. You’ll see. Trust me.”
So I am trying it. And trusting him. Just like he told me to do. I am a good wife.