Perception

 We often hear people talk about neighbors or friends of a person who has been arrested as a serial killer or pedophile or something else horrific. They say the neighbors and friends always talk about how nice and pleasant the criminal was and how shocked they were at this development, but "they" would say, "Oh he was an awful guy and I couldn't stand him. I'm not surprised at all."

I heard this yesterday on the radio as well as on a true crime show I was watching. In one case the perp was described as "kind, sweet ... would never hurt a soul ... would do anything for anybody."

Then I started thinking about my husband who was described the same way and in other glowing terms during his funeral service. He was all the things they said. But ... and this is a big "but" ... there was a side of him they didn't know.

That's the side that made me decide I had to leave. That's the side that had us living apart for more than 20 years. That's the side that he hid from everyone but me. Oh, lucky me.

Even his family and best friends have told me they understand and that they loved him but could never live with him. They don't even know the half of it. I assume that they assume it was his quirkiness (for lack of a better term) that made me leave. No. That enduring quirkiness is what made me stay for as long as I did. 

His friends and family apparently didn't know how mean he could be. Or at least they never talk about it. 

I will only give one example because it was the last straw and the action that made me realize I couldn't live like that anymore. 

I used to work a 3 to 11 p.m. shift. When I got home I would drink a cup of some kind of soothing tea. I would leave the cup and spoon in the sink. One night when I got home I opened the silverware drawer to get a spoon and found it empty. The next day I asked him about it. He told me he hid the silverware because he got sick of waking up to a dirty sink every morning. A dirty sink? A tea cup and a spoon?

I could give so many more examples, but I won't. I also know I wasn't perfect. The point is: Perception isn't necessarily reality.

Embarrassing

 This is a true story that was published in Woman's World magazine and they paid me $100.

After an eye doctor appointment, I was shopping for new glasses and, as you know, the selection process can be quite daunting. As I was looking at one wall of glasses I pointed to one pair and said to my husband, "Those are so ugly. Who would wear those?" I then heard a voice ask, "Can I help you?" I turned around to see the optician, who was wearing a pair of those ugly glasses.

Ideation

 First of all, I am not actively suicidal so don't worry about that.

I do, however, have frequent suicidal ideations. Mostly, though, I'm just hoping that I go quickly and easily. And fairly soon. I don't particularly look forward to getting old and having to depend on people to do things for me or take care of me.

With that said, the f'ing Buffalo Bills are making me want to stick it out for at least another year and a half or so. I would like to see them get back to the Super Bowl one more time (I'm not counting on a win) but it's painfully obvious that, barring a miracle, it's not going to happen this season.

Must be the universe has other plans for me and Josh Allen, Micah Hyde and the guys. I hope the Super Bowl is in the plans for next year.

Speaking of plans, I have no plans to kill myself. A few years ago I had a plan but that is no longer an option. I've gotten better meds since then, too. I'm wondering if I should ask my doctor for another meds adjustment. The only reason I haven't yet is that I'm afraid she's going to suggest counseling or therapy. I don't want to do that. I can write about my feelings, but I cannot talk about them. 

Dream a Little Dream

 I had a dream about GSG last night. I had lots of dreams about him in the months after he died -- at least once a week -- but haven't had one in quite some time. 

In this dream he and I and some other people were working on some kind of project together at his house. I came across a Latin word or a legal term or something (can't remember) and I said, "It would be helpful if we had a legal dictionary." GSG got up, went to another room and came back with some kind of dictionary, which helped me solve my problem. 

The rest of the dream is kind of fuzzy, but I do remember feeling good in it.