Future Foe Scenario
“That’s when it turned on me, a motorcade of ‘meant to be’s’
Parades of beauty queens where soft entwines make kindling
These many detailed things, like broken nails and plastic rings
Will win by keeping me from speaking to my new darling
And there’s no way to know our future foe scenarios
That’s when it turned on me where bobby pins hold angel wings”
-Silversun Pickups, “Future Foe Scenarios”, Carnavas
Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.
OK, so, how much worse can it get? Joe Picamosca’s arrival sparked resentment and animosity in Seamus. The fact that I have not been able to find it in myself to hate Joe has sparked resentment and animosity in Seamus. Still, things at work seemed to have reached an uneasy equilibrium, and I felt certain that if the situation became stable, Seamus would probably settle down. Until management dropped the bunker-buster of the day: they were switching Joe Picamosca out of our crew (yay!) and replacing him with Marge (oh, HELL no!!). Dear Lord in Heaven, can you not give me a f*king break here?
Marge is Seamus’ former supervisor, the one he had before he came to our current boss. Our crew has two groups, spearheaded by one supervisor each. Although Seamus and I are still safely under our own boss, the other supervisor also sees our work, and potentially is in a position to cause trouble for someone other than who is in their own group.
Marge is the reason Seamus wound up with us (see this post, entitled Calm Before the Storm). He’s the very supervisor who’s also mentioned in the post, Phase One – A History who he filed a sexual harrassment charge against and labelled “The Crotch Nazi.” In other words, this is someone who Seamus despises, and who he is always ranting about when he’s drunk and angry. He actually hates her more than Joe Picamosca, because he believes Marge to be cunning and Picamosca to be a stupid, macho posturer.
Needless to say, this is extremely bad news. None of us want to be working around Marge anyway: she’s a nosy, self-satisfied busy-body who all too obviously thinks very highly of herself. She was extremely vindictive with Seamus, even prior to him filing the sexual harrassment suit (for purportedly sizing up Seamus’ crotch whenever she saw him, according to Seamus, although Seamus put it in a way that she saw his crotch as inferior, not that she was admiring it…size being another one of Seamus’ insecurities). We are civil servants here, and typical to that area of work, many of us screw up to a certain degree. It’s rare to see management go after an employee’s job here because of civil service protection, and because our employer is so jumpy about lawsuits that you basically have to punch someone to get fired…and even then, maybe not.
Marge was the first supervisor that I saw actually try to get someone fired…that someone being Seamus. She claimed that her employees were frightened of his occasional outbursts (often triggered by her treatment of him), that he was insubordinate by asking for things that other employees asked for, and if that didn’t do it, that he was shirking his job somehow.
Now, my love isn’t blind, and I know Seamus isn’t perfect. It would take up too much time and room to explain all the details behind what she was accusing him of, at least with regard to what she considered shirking of work and insubordination, and how typical it was for all the rest of us to do these things without facing any repercussions. So, please trust and believe me when I say that she was doing everything she could to get him fired. And she admitted as much to me one day: she said that Seamus had gotten away with bad behavior in other regions for long enough, and that she was going to see it through to the end, unlike his past supervisors who were too apathetic to pursue his dismissal and instead kept shuffling him off to other regions.
It was because of this that I had secretly gone to my union and confessed to Seamus’ union representative what I knew about the plot to fire Seamus unfairly (also described in the posts I linked above), and this led to a complete reversal of Seamus’ performance evaluation and his transfer to my crew.
All of that, for nothing. Now, even though she won’t be directly supervising him, she’ll try to influence the goings-on here. She’ll probably be looking at all of our work, criticizing and bad-mouthing us during her hours-long gossip marches around the office. And I think it’s a legitimate fear that she could try to cause trouble for Seamus.
Seamus, of course, was less than serene when I told him the news. He launched into a lengthy rant that “some of our precious blonde Americans” had probably gotten to her, and that perhaps she had been sent to finish the job she had started, to assist the “Vikings and Nordic-lovers who want to see the last of the Black Irish beaten from the building.” His voice took on that sharp, angry tone as he said it.
I told Seamus that (truthfully) she had been sent here because she was constantly complaining that her own crew was too much work and she couldn’t handle it. My own supervisor confirmed this. She thinks being a co-supervisor will be easier, and because my crew always gets its work done fast and well, it’ll of course be that much easier for her. What she doesn’t realize is that her constant floating around the office to talk is what makes her fall behind.
Anyway, this change doesn’t take place until after the Fourth of July holiday, but I know the pressure it will add to the already strained relationship between Seamus and myself. There’ll be new demands for information that I just might not have, and constant accusations when I don’t deliver. I just hope that it doesn’t collapse this house of cards completely.
Unbound Hypocrisy
What is my problem?
My last post complains about Seamus’ lack of attention, or rather his lack of desire to go out with me. Nevertheless, he still has attempted to be pleasant enough in conversation when I see him.
If I was worried about him not calling, he remedied that by calling several times over the past 10 days.
But I didn’t answer.
Why? My own issues have caught up with me again no matter how fast I tried to outrun them. I’m back in a depressive spiral again, and I’m now in full emotional retreat. Like a mole who shuns the light, any serious feelings send me figuratively scurrying to my dark little hidey-hole. The past week or so, I’ve not been able to sleep properly, and there’s been a lot of crying. A good portion of it has been obsessing and yearning for Seamus, but my anxiety about growing old and the futility of trying to find meaningful love has added to the emotional pressure.
It’s funny, too, because at work, no one would realize what I’ve been going through. I’m one of those people that is very popular, that everyone loves to come talk to. From management to clerical staff, people from all walks of life, of all ages and races…literally…come visit me at my cubicle. To them, I’m fun, lively, a bit of a smart-ass. For me, it’s like performance art. It’s a defense mechanism to keep them off my back. The one or two times I mentioned having a depression issue to a couple of them, I got the same inane statements: “You’re such a pretty girl, you shouldn’t be sad”, “You’ve got so much talent, so much going for you”, or my favorite, “You always seem so happy”. If they think I’m happy, they won’t ask the uncomfortable questions for which they have no satisfactory answers.
Anyway, Seamus has been on his best behavior lately, but the memories of prior unpleasantness, the insults and personal attacks, and the need to put me down…well, it’s just not something I want to deal with right now. I feel bad enough about myself that I don’t need anyone else to add to the burden. Not that he has the last few times we’ve spoken, but it’s merely the chance that he could. That’s what I’m trying to avoid.
Last night, I finally relented and answered the phone when Seamus called. Immediately, he asked, “Why are you avoiding my calls?” Wow, this was something I didn’t want to have to face; I was hoping this phase would pass quickly enough that I could get back in the swing of things without having to say anything hurtful to him. Now, he had confronted me.
“Well, I don’t know exactly how to say this, but…”, I started, but Seamus interrupted “I can understand since I won’t go out drinking with you anymore that maybe you don’t want to waste time on the phone with me. ” Well, actually, he had a point, and I told him so. But, I also told him the truth about how I was feeling, and how I was avoiding potential ugliness because I just couldn’t take it right now. “Well,” said Seamus, “when was the last time I was unpleasant?” He had me there. It had been a bit since he had gotten nasty with me. I knew he had been trying, and he knew he had been trying, too. Now, he was basically asking me if any of that mattered. It sort of broke my heart, because he doesn’t try for other people, but he tries for me, and it’s must have felt as if the effort didn’t pay off.
“I know you’ve been really good to me lately, ” I said lamely, trying to reassure him, “but it’s just my imagination running wild that makes me feel this way.” This wasn’t exactly true, but I so did not want to hurt him. “I know I tend to drone on a bit,” he said, “and I’m sure that adds to the annoyance factor.” But I’m not annoyed! Why can’t he see? “Please don’t get the wrong idea,” I said. “It’s not like I’m annoyed with you, I’m just being defensive of my feelings.” But I could tell he was hurt, despite him saying that he wasn’t insulted.
Then he said, “I don’t know why you feel so bad. You seem to have an easy existence.” OK, so now maybe I am annoyed. “You know, I hate that crap,” I said. “That’s what everyone tells me, that I have everything going for me and I have no reason to be sad. Well, that’s what depression is…sadness without having a good reason all the time. And no one can fix it. And I’m tired of hearing the same inane crap all the time from people who have no idea of how I feel. And when I’m like this, I can rationalize all I want, but it’s how I feel that rules me.” He had nothing to say to this.
Anyway, we talked for about 90 minutes. Things remained pleasant. But I’m still plagued with lingering feelings of guilt for being indifferent to his efforts to be a better person. He’ll be in the office all day tomorrow. I’ll have to be extra nice to him and see if I can’t make it better.
Frustrated
I don’t know how much more I can stand now.
Seamus seems to be trying to behave better now. He’s putting a real effort in behaving like a genuine friend, taking interest in what I’m doing and trying to be supportive. That is, when he calls or when he’s around, which is becoming less and less now.
One thing is certain, he definitely does not want to go out with me anymore. He had mentioned, a couple weeks back, that he didn’t like the fact that I sometimes had little bits of marijuana on me when we went out. He seemed to believe that if a cop found a joint on me or in the car, somehow he’d be arrested. We happen to live in a state with extremely liberal marijuana laws (you can have up to an ounce and if you’re caught, you pay a maximum $100 fine, no arrest), so his fears are relatively unfounded, and nothing compared to the risk I take possibly being nabbed for a DUI while I drive him around on our nights out…because he wants to drink and he wants me to drink with him, and he wants me to taxi him about so HE doesn’t get hit with a DUI. Of course, I’m used to things being a little one sided from Seamus’ point of view by now.
But I wonder if it isn’t just an excuse that’s easier to drop than what may be the real reason, which is that he’s lost interest, or, even more terrifying, that he’s seeing someone else. When he does call, we’ll talk for hours, and he’ll mention that he’s been out on a weekend night, but he doesn’t mention how or with whom. Even if he’s resumed the habits he had before he took up with me, which was a parade of solitary, drunken evenings, it still hurts to think that he’d rather be solitary than be with me.
I realize that communication is key here, but I’m terrified. I’m terrified of facing the final rejection, or of learning the painful truth that there’s someone else. I want to call him, yet I continue to avoid calling for fear of what I’ll learn. I don’t want to ask him why he won’t go out with me now, for fear of looking clingy and pathetic and desparate.
He’s all I want and need, and he keeps slipping further and further away. I’m so frustrated because I can’t figure out what the right move is here, and I don’t think I’ll get another chance if I make the wrong move. This relationship feels like it’s dying, and I feel like I’m dying inside with it. If I lose him, I will be lost, too. I don’t know if his illness is behind this, or if it’s me, or both.
But I need to summon the courage to face wherever the relationship is heading, whether it’s toward ruin or renewal. Otherwise, I may lose my mind to doubt and frustration.
Doubt Prevails
What to do, what to do.
Seamus has been exceedingly well behaved lately…well, except for a little incident on the telephone last night, where he pushed my buttons and I got angry and childish…but he’s been kind, concerned, helpful, and overall a very good friend. It makes me love him more than ever, and I begin to entertain notions again of making a serious go of it with him.
The thing is, I know it can’t last. Sadly, the only thing keeping it together now is the fact that we only seem to speak when Seamus is sober. We haven’t been out in over a month now. It’s like he doesn’t want to see me face to face. Yet he’ll keep me on the telephone for four hours at a time. He obviously enjoys my company, yet he seems to be keeping me at arms length? Why?
It’s funny, too, because the closer we seem to get an any one moment, the more he tries to distance himself the next day. The four hour conversation, for instance, took place on Saturday. Sunday, nothing. Monday, at work, he was hanging out and talking to all sorts of people for hours…but not me. He sat down in our supervisor’s office and chatted for 30 minutes…which he NEVER does. He stayed in the lunchroom with another male co-worker whom he NEVER talks to and talks for 45 minutes about life insurance actuarial tables. He was away from his desk most of the morning, and when I finally caught up to him, he told me he figured I needed a break from him.
Is this his way of saying he really needs a break from me? Or does he really think that I get tired of him? He’s made comments like that before, like he thinks I dread the sound of his approach. The thing is, when he’s being as wonderful as he’s been the last week or so, I can’t get enough of him. It’s when he’s accusing or insulting that I begin to feel like I need a break. But after several years, certainly he should know that even those breaks are just temporary…right?
I’ve toyed with the notion of taking up with a new beau, but no one will be able to capture my interest like Seamus has, I fear. There may be some temporary excitement with someone new, but my mind is constantly on Seamus. I love him so. I’m always frightened that he’s going to somehow end it. I was reading someone’s blog who is a schizophrenic, and how he terminated his relationship with his girlfriend because of suspicions and to save her from his burden. But did she want that, too? I know I don’t want that to happen with Seamus.
He’ll be in the office again tomorrow. After last night’s conversation, where I got angry and insulting in as hurtful a manner as I could (very adult of me), I doubt I’ll be talking to him tonight. Maybe tomorrow will be better.
All I know is that this whole relationship is hard on my neuroses.
