Filtered away from the kids’ view

Zelda left for Tennessee, leaving Othello & two cats behind.

I began legal proceedings to remove her from the decision chain where Othello is concerned. Zelda filed protest of the motion, then was silent, filing no counter-order or motion to dismiss.

The court required us to try mediation prior to court hearing. Zelda abstained without comment for five months, not acknowledging the requirement in any way.

I filed for temporary custody pending resolution. Zelda filed protest of that motion as well, filing no counter-order or motion to dismiss.

The court required each of us to contact the court on the 21st of each month to report on progress in mediation. Zelda abstained wihtout comment for five months, not acknowledging the requirement in any way.

I filed to have her objections stricken from the record last week, citing her refusal to take part in the proceedings in any way save to object at all points and then fall silent. The court was pleased to break the motif by striking all her pleadings to date. Since Zelda had not attended the meeting by telephone she was unaware that the pace had changed.

The penultimate step, a filing of the custody order with the court, has been taken. Zelda has been moving with great energy to file a protest –

– but the only protest she can file now is against the particulars of the support payments –

– and I filed those grossly in her favor. If she accepts the terms as they are, she will be paying a pittance; it might cover Othello’s grocery bill. If she contests them then she will end up paying far more; double or even triple what was filed. We filed as if she worked for minimum wage; she makes nearly four times that.

She has a week to choose to file a protest and continue her pattern, or to lie quietly while this finishes outside the courtroom. It is very much in her interest to shut up and let this go. It is very much in her character and habit to protest from reflex, and as punishment to me.

I would love to say I am so devious that I planned this, but it was just the way things fell. Honestly, I hope, for a variety of reasons, that she just lets it go. We’ll all be done — nothing will change Othello’s mind at this point, in any case. And, striking for a bit of nobility, here, it would be nice if Zelda could let this go and stop trying to fight about a marriage dead for years, nice if she could leave me and go have a life that she likes.

I can’t pretend to be too noble, though. Mostly I just want her to leave me alone.

My brother, Airhead, is returned home from MI where he was helping with Katrina cleanup. I think this counts as his fourth war zone.

The mystic in me wants to wonder what the world is getting him ready to do. Most of me is just glad he was nowhere near New Orleans.

I see the future.

I make that sound so easy. Of course, it isn’t. I work at it diligently. I carefully study everything interacting about me, consider the movements and patterns, number the relations evolving and name their paths. Then, in a burst of creative, insightful synthesis, I see how things are at just that moment, and extrapolate perfectly where all the energy patterns in the universe must flow and with what result with regard to, say, getting the money together to get to Orycon this year.

Inspires awe, doesn’t it?

Here’s an example of how it works.

Travelling through the bathroom, I note the seat on the toilet is up. I remember the number of times I’ve seen Bridgette stumble blindly through the morning. I consider how frequently she rises just in time to hurry to leave for work. With a flash of understanding, I see that there is some moderate chance that she will seat herself seatlessly, thrash about wetly and swear, and unpleasant things will then transpire, centering largely on any male household members who might be responsible for her quick backside baptism.

Careful; don’t step in that puddle of grandeur. I trust you are all suitably inspired and perfectly awed. I predicted that. ::nodding, pursed lips, solemn look:: Insight. Perhaps not all that amazing, but.

I assign me schedules, numerical goals, and keep records because I know that, in the past, I have slighted me. I have put my needs behind all others. And I have been a flake. It doesn’t matter why, I tell myself, it only matters that that is how I have been. That in mind, when I determine to exercise or write, I first look at the likelihood that I will fail for reasons of being a spineless flake. I set daily or weekly goals, require open-book record keeping, and then move forward with an eye on my progress.

When I fail to achieve those goals, I immediately hold tribunal, call myself to the stand, declare nolo contendre (as I feel that self-defensive rationalization is undignified and not useful), try me, convict me on the basis of past offenses, and sentence me to death by self-flagellation.

I’m a harsh courtroom. Tolérance nulle, c’est moi.

Then I put those two things together, along with some habits I have of assuming that I come from Krypton when I assign me tasks.

It goes like this.

I decide to do amazing numbers of amazing things.
I immediately realize I will stall out, being an irresolute git.
I watch me closely.
I work until exhaustion degrades my performance or emergency precludes my performing.
Gathering all my unearthly powers to me, I see what will transpire if things continue just exactly the same way they are at that moment of my failing.
Tribunal is called and I am put to death for the failure that Will Happen.
The press is notified that I am being held pending execution for being a flake.

…

Er….

I believe, if someone came to me and leaned heavily, weeping for the world’s weight bowing their shoulders, and sobbed out this story, I would have uplifting, supportive things to tell them, things that would open their eyes and gladden their souls, and bring forth a bright new day with the quickening of their cliche. I would say, “Idiot.”

I might add, warming to my subject, “You’re an ass. Grow up.”

I must stop this behavior of mine. Not the over-reaching and then self-flagellating. The “looking at my behaviors”. That one. Regarding oneself can only end in…well, embarassment, in my case.

I can see the future.

If NOTHING changes, if NO ONE exercises any free will, if I NEVER change from who I have been when I had wildly different circumstances for my behaviors.

The tangent at any point of a curve perfectly describes that curve … at that point, and only at that point.

Beyond that … knowledge is a form of control. It’s what stalkers get off on; if I know everything that is happening, I, in some fashion, control what is happening. I am reality’s stalker. But the control I have is illusory. I may see a future, but that does not give me one iota of power of any future but that one.

Feh! The abilities I imply are mine by my assumptions and behaviors … well, they just aren’t. I should probably stop beating myself as if they were.

I’ve been ruminating over my time issues, and tiredness issues, and so forth. I think, in general, unhappiness has at its root some combination of three general causes.

1. Undesireable Situation

2. Inappropriate Behavior
3. Inappropriate Thinking

Item 1 is the only one that is entirely Not My Fault, although it is often, to some degree, My Fault, even if only because I permit the situtation to continue. Whoever “Me” is. Item 2 would include such things as “promising things that one can’t deliver”, “drinking too much”, or “commiting the sin of Onan using mazola oil and a stray cat while having tea with the vicar.” Item 3 would be all the stuff that Dr. Phil goes on about.

Yes, I really do approach my everday issues this way. Understanding the philosophy/gestalt/big picture/mystic patternings of things lets one see more clearly when the departures from the pattern occur.

Right. So. Three categories of Issue. Fine.

My Undesireable Situation is that I have more to do than I can reasonably do without some form of self-injuring behaviors, but the things I’ve to do are too important to me to give up.

My Inappropriate Behaviors can be generalized as (but are certainly not limited to) behaving as if I have no limits on time, energy, and focus.

My Inappropriate Thinking is the basis of my Inappropriate Behaviors, and, as is my norm, has to do with believing: my needs may not have negative impact on other people; I will always behave as I have behaved in the past; my situation will always be just as it is today; I am from the planet Krypton, and am possessed of powers far beyond those of mere men.

All right, that last is true, but I shouldn’t be thinking about it. There’s things to do.

…

I’ve rather lost my train of thought. I’m doing too many things while writing this, and have taken too many hours-long breaks to keep track. This seemed to me to be important, for some reason, so I’ll leave it and move on.

My base assumptions are:

I can resolve any internal problem with reasoning and applied will. If, for instance, I exhibit OCD trends, I expect that iron will and close attention can overcome it. I do not assume this for anyone else.

The basic conditions of my life are wonderful. Every last one of my loved ones has the opportunity and support they need, and each of them behaves with affection, acceptance, and support toward me. Some of them behave so wonderfully toward me that I am in constant astonishment. I am beloved far beyond what I believe my worth to be.

I have truly amazing opportunities that were basically handed to me. I live on 10 acres that I may treat as I wish, a house that I may remake to suit me, I have, ferchrissake, an agent willing to look at my manuscript when it’s written (Aberdeen, have I thanked you for that today? Thank you.), a chore that I (in theory) love.

I’m good, frequently very good, at what I decide to do.

So. I’m feeling badly for me, but the fact is that my life is wonderful. I am not looking at my life and leaking tears that I have to live such an ugly thing to its dreary end.

That does not keep me from self-pity, but there you are.

So. We return to self-vivesection, already in progress.

Not a comprehensive list.

• Missing days of writing

• Low word count when I do
• Low enthusiasm over what I’ve written
• Writing for bad_sex - attention whore & not productive at work or for book
• Very low energy
• Low, low, low concentration
• You don’t want to hear it; just say “Very low energy” again
• Grouchy
• Despondent over prospects; work, writing, schedule…
• Not singing around the house
• Playing video games - I haven’t done this since I lived at SIK house
• Intermittent whining about not wanting to be supporting cast, without knowing just what I mean by that
• Just noticed: doing something just for the love isn’t adequate. It must be ‘productive’ to some goal or another. eg writing for bad_sex
• Not updating my journal - It’s unusual for me to shut up