[Ascent Through The Dark Night Of The Soul: My Life Reflections: The Boy From Brooklyn That I Married . . . is the post that precedes this one, in my life story.]
There were some parts of my first marriage to Tom that were not covered in the other blog post that I wrote about him; about us. So, there is still more to tell. I can describe these things and their effect on me from different approaches, and each would be true, but only part of the story. That frustrates me, because I am trying my best to be as honest and accurate as possible in every single post; yet my account of it could sound very different depending on my frame of reference. For example, I could say, and rightfully so, that, in one sense, these issues were not just about Tom, and I, alone. After all, we both manifested different types of damage done to who we became as people, by each growing up in dysfunctional homes where our parents modeled both unhappy and unstable marriages for us. Neither of us learned the skills that were needed for happy, healthy relationships in our families of origin. So, I could describe how those things, that were passed down to us, led to the issues in our relationship; which is true, to a large extent.I could also tell my story from the point of view of my being an empath. That's a very relevant aspect to how my life has unfolded, because empaths attract those people that are wounded in their own lives who are subconsciously seeking to be healed by someone. Because 'hurt people hurt people' they wound us in addition to what those in our lives before them already did because they didn't know how to do any better either. An empath becomes aware that this is who we are in this world, at some point in our lives, and it is a fearsome thing, for us, to try to bear up under. We are rather like the person who swims out to save a drowning victim but they grab hold of us in such a way that they harm us, or are the death of us, in the process. People are drawn to the healing light in an empath. They drain us dry in their insatiable neediness to heal themselves, while also having nothing to really offer, of any substance, in return, because of their incessant woundedness. Not everyone seems to be capable of, or care enough to, follow, the Golden Rule, to treat others as they would like to be treated; and none of us do it consistently.
For most of my life, I felt obligated to respond to this higher Calling upon my soul by nurturing others, often at my own expense, until I became so burned out, and bitter, by my own needs not ever really being met, that I finally realized, I had to set better boundaries with people. I gave so much more, than I got back, putting myself at risk of being used, and exploited; which others often took advantage of, in various ways. Whether, it is the amount of words, I use, the affirmations, I say, or my being supportive, or understanding, the motivation for it, with me, is that I am trying to give to others what I feel will be a blessing, for them. Nurturance. It still scares me that, I'm far more prone to do this than not. It is not good for me; and in opening my heart, outward, to others, like this, I allow them to bring their toxicity and trauma into my life, when I am already struggling to survive my own brokenness. Adding insult to injury with this (behavioral) losing proposition that I do, is the fact that, in doing this, I often, allow people the space and the grace to avoid taking rightful responsibility for their own actions, inadvertently preventing them from taking proper proactive steps to improve the situation for themselves. What I have learned, the hard way, over the course of my life, is that, people will welcome your propping them up, in whatever way makes life easier, and/or more pleasant, for them, for as long as you are willing to do it; and that if the situation was begun by some ill-advised interaction between this person and myself, it will, inevitably, lead to my paying, far too big a price, for engaging in the relationship. I bear the brunt, of their bad behaviors. I improve their life. They, damage mine.
From Twitter: "Empathy without boundaries is self-destructive"
Any good social worker, psychologist, or minister, can confirm, as well, that those of us who grew up in dysfunctional families have lower chances of having healthy marriages, ourselves. Compounding this issue, is the fact that, with each divorce, we have an ever-increasing likelihood that, any subsequent attempts at marriage will also end in failure. Honestly, by the time, I married Tom, even that first time, it was against, God's Leading in my spirit, my better judgement, and with my full knowledge that I was very much throwing all my baggage in with his baggage for a hope-against-hope that anything good could really take root, and grow, from it. He was the quintessential Peter Pan who refused to grow up and be a responsible man; and he was my marriage number 3, AND number 4, which clearly showed I had already long lost my belief that, in my own damaged state, I would ever find anything any better. I was, 'damaged goods', myself, in so many ways, by then. I knew I had some attributes that could help this young man, though, and because I needed to feel needed, I climbed on board, his 'sinking ship'; saving his military career, which was in real jeopardy according to his own First Sergeant, due to his nonpayment of personal debts after already being reprimanded and counseled on that very issue previously. To CARE, we need someone or something to care FOR. I would have been much better off, if I had sworn off marrying men, much sooner than I did, and had simply rescued and nurtured an abused animal from a shelter. Pets, seem to at least be appreciative, and affectionate, toward us, when we care. Tom was neither, of those things, toward me, except for rare, and brief, moments.
I had no illusions, that he loved me. I'd met him in the club, where I worked as a dancer, while he was waiting for another dancer to come sit with him who he had a crush on. Even so, I married him. I was just burned out, on jerks, in the bar, at the time, and assholes who were always propositioning me for sex. I needed love even if, that meant, my giving it, and not getting it. I was, already, living life as a celibate. So, when Tom turned out to be nonsexual toward me, and nonfunctional in bed as part of that, it didn't alter my lifestyle, in that way. It was disappointing, though; and was enough of a deprivation, for me, that I tried to coax him to want to have sex with me after we were married, but with, little-to-no success. I never knew, why, Tom wasn't sexual toward me. It remained a real problem, at least for me, through both of our marriages to one another. He continued to be asexual, as far as, I, was concerned. I don't THINK he was gay; but he never would discuss it with me. He had shocked me by having a yobo during his one year tour of duty in Korea; almost from the time he arrived there. I'd heard the sad stories, that even the (military) ministers, known as chaplains, had such a woman there, to 'service' them sexually. In my mind, Tom was the male least likely to be involved in such a thing. It was the one thing that I truly thought he was incapable of. So, I felt even more shortchanged in our marriage, when he not only did that, almost as soon as he got there, but that he also did it while we were still married to one another. He actually admitted to me that he had even hit her, in their relationship. I think that my being a strong woman, so sure of myself in many ways back then, intimidated him; and that the sheer submissiveness of that, servant-like, woman who was his yobo, allowed him, to feel like, he was, more, of a man, in his own weakness. He just seemed like a child-- oblivious, to any, of the expectations, that a wife has of her husband-- the, man, that she marries. Tom escaped into his own inner world. His lifelong obsession with comic books, almost above all else, was his trademark.
I have read that an attribute of an Aquarius, which I am, is that we NEED to care, even MORE than we need to be CARED ABOUT. That is, not only, TRUE, but, it is a good thing, that this is the case, with me, specifically, or my heartbreak, from not really experiencing mutual, and reciprocated, love, relationships, in my life, would be even worse, than it is-- which is still, some really deep heartbreak, in me. Tom needed the guidance that I gave him. But, he also rebelled against that very help. He needed me, but he didn't want me. The only need of mine that he met was his needing me. It was clear to both of us that his life improved by my presence in it. He couldn't have done as well, on his own. He wasn't doing as well, without me in his life. Even his First Sergeant said that, to me, in no uncertain terms. They were tired of trying to babysit him because of his irresponsibility. They were planning to discharge him from the Air Force had I not entered his life and intervened, turning his financial mess around. I knew, that I should not have married him-- and I had almost backed out that day. I thought so little of my own future prospects by then though, that I cast my lot in life in with his, just because, I saw that, I could really make a positive difference in his, messed up, situation. Sadly, I no longer believed that any guy would make a positive difference in mine, so, nothing to hold out for.
The thanks I got, from Tom, for saving his Air Force career, and getting him out of debt by putting him on a budget and teaching him financial responsibility, was his resenting me so much that he began to act out violently toward me. On top of his moving in and out and in and out and in and out, because he really disliked being held accountable to function as an adult, he lost his temper and lashed out at me. When I went to soak in the tub, one day, to destress from all of this, with him, he knocked the wine glass out of my hand, and broke it, sending shards of glass into the bath water with my naked body. He pulled a knife on me one day, while I was on the phone, with a chaplain, at the military base, to get marriage counseling for us. He told me that he had dreams, about harming me. Even about killing me. He mostly just, withdrew, and sulked, like a 12-year-old. Apparently, by all accounts, he was, a completely different guy, at work, than he ever really let me see. There was a whole other side to him causing him to be known as being the guy with the silly sense of humor-- the FUNNY guy-- in his weather forecaster unit at the base. The clown making the others who worked with him at Global Weather at Offutt Air Force Base laugh alot. I NEVER saw that side of him! He kept it separate from our life together. At home, he would perk up, and get really excited, when he had just unlocked the next level of one of his video games, which he spent alot of the time at home playing. He wasn't very interactive with me. He liked my cooking, for the most part. But, he wasn't really interested in, or affectionate with, me. Tom never sought me out to have sex, which most men seem more than willing to do, with a wife, even if they otherwise don't care much for her. I don't think either one of us was in love-- at least, not with one another. We shortchanged ourselves that way. If there is such a thing, as a soulmate, in this life, how, can that person even find you, if you're married to someone you weren't even supposed to marry whom you don't even love in that way? It skews the lives of several people. Not just the two.
Another, point of orientation, that I could use, to describe my marriage to Tom, is that I am an ISFJ-T (https://www.16personalities.com/isfj-personality). It is from the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator inventory, a useful tool to identify an individual's personality type* (https://www.16personalities.com/personality-types). This is a passage from the website's Romantic Relationships section for ISFJ types like me:
"... in Defenders’ relationships ...it can be too easy for their altruism and kindness to be taken advantage of, maybe even without their partners realizing it, while leaving Defenders’ own needs and dreams unfulfilled. This is something that Defenders’ partners, and Defender personalities themselves, must look after if they want the sort of long, fulfilling relationships they dream about. Expressing appreciation is often more than just the right words, it is reciprocation." I gave, so much more, effort, and supportiveness, and caring, to Tom, than I ever got back from him. Even though I have a drive, a need, to love people, more than I need to be loved, by them, in return, that does not mean that I don't need to be loved, in return. I have needs too. When I feel a relationship is not going well and is not good for me, and it shows no signs of improving, despite all measures to do so, I eventually advocate for myself and remove myself from that relationship. No matter if it is the relationship with a husband, a parent, a sibling, a friend or even an employer. If it just isn't going to be a happy relationship to be in, but is largely causing me nothing but, forms of, pain, and suffering, I do myself a disservice if I stay enmeshed in this. Despite what some people may think, I am not the type of person to just walk away from any familial relationship, unless I am acutely aware that it is not a healthy and/or happy one to be in for either of us involved in it and the other person involved does not act as if they have an interest in improving the situation between us so that my needs are also respected and addressed by them. Two people make or break a relationship. One can't be making all the extra effort! That person will become resentful, and eventually, burn out from the bullshit of it.
Scott Stafford wrote, in his online article, 'ISFJ Feelings & Emotions: How the ISFJ Handles Inner Feelings', that ISFJs like me will "usually push aside their own inner emotions in hopes of tending to the needs of those around them." He writes, "For the ISFJ taking this time to prioritize themselves and their own inner needs can feel like they are being self-centered. They don’t want to be someone who expresses their own emotions at the expense of those around them. Sometimes their own inner feelings can seem a bit like a burden to the ISFJ, and so they ignore them. They often find it easier to push these feelings aside and cover them up by focusing on the needs of those around them. This can certainly cause the ISFJ's own inner emotions to fester and build up over time. Ultimately neglecting their own personal needs can lead the ISFJ to feeling stressed and a bit overwhelmed down the line. They might have moments where they crash, since they just haven’t spent enough time caring for themselves and tending to their own inner needs and desires. For the ISFJ this is something which happens over a long period of time, after they have spent too much energy ignoring these feelings and needs." Read the full article, at: https://personalitygrowth.com/isfj-feelings-emotions-how-the-isfj-handles-inner-feelings/. Neglecting, my own, needs, took a real toll, on me. Not just with Tom, but in every relationship in my life that I have subjugated my own, real, and normal, needs, for the sake of, the person(s) in the relationship(s) with me. It becomes impossible to meet another's needs when our own needs are consistently not being met. It's especially hurtful when these other people don't seem to really make an effort for me. My righteous indignation flares up at the very thought of this. How dare they, treat someone, so caring, so badly!
The religious bigots and ignoramuses who attempted to ignore and negate God's Love for me, by saying that I couldn't even be a Christian since I was a nightclub dancer, had been married multiple times, wore both a black leather miniskirt and eyeliner, et cetera, would never believe that I was, and am, a spiritually-oriented person. God has given me Words Of Knowledge to tell perfect strangers standing at city bus stops, with me, that I hadn't even been interacting with, prior to that, and spiritual discernment about waitresses taking my order at restaurants, that I shared with them, and left them in tears because through that they saw God saw them, and cared about what they were going through. I sometimes had, insights, into people, whom I was ringing up, when I was a grocery store cashier, that God gave to me, and if I felt Led by God's Spirit in me to tell them I obeyed and acted on that. That sometimes clarified their future direction which I personally had not known anything at all about and/or confirmed for them whether they were on the right path, toward their own unique destiny. Ever since I was a very young child I have always been much more of a spiritually-oriented person than a carnal one. I tried to stifle it to a large extent when I was a dancer in the nightclubs, and when I was involved in doing prostitution for a short season, during that era, of my life.
I had discovered quite by accident, one day, that I could look at a total stranger's palm and know things about their lives. Because Christian's make such things out to be 'of the devil', I avoided exploring that method of spiritual discernment, for a while, until a friend told me that I should because it was given to me for a reason and seemed to be able to help others in their lives. The Bible says, we're made in God's image, and Isaiah 49:16 says, "Indeed, I have inscribed [a picture of] you on the palms of My hands." Without ever knowing how I knew I could simply look at the lines on a person's palm, and interpret the symbols that I saw 'inscribed' in their hand. There was a season, in my life, that I tried, to make that into, my job, and personally profit, from it, and that was the only time that it did not go well as I was using it to inform people of their life journey, past, present, and future, that was revealed in their hands. It was clear that it was entrusted to me as a spiritual gift to bless others, and confirm to them that they are a spiritual being, in a body, with a very specific destiny to accomplish in this life on Earth. Christians, are also, taught not to believe in reincarnation, but I do-- although this pilgrimage that I'm on now has so worn me down, and sucked so much life out of me, that I, literally, pray that this is my final life, prior to the return of Jesus and the establishment of His rule and reign which will make all things new. These are the things that I have experienced, that have caused me to believe in reincarnation: I have always been an 'old soul'; I have never quite felt comfortable, in my human body, or in society, as it exists now. I feel like I'm not really the truest essence of 'me'; that I am not, in the era, or the place, that I feel most at home. Even as a small child, who could never have put any of this into words, I had deeply felt these things, in my soul. I had such an intense, and unsettling, reaction to meeting my second husband, Jim, for the first time, in this life. There was no explanation, for it, and no one else has ever caused that kind of reaction in me, other than him. (I tried to describe it in a post that I wrote about him, for this blog.) I remember somehow knowing that he had been someone that I had a history with, a bond of some sort, before we met, in this life. It was very strange. It really shook me up, when I felt that, although I made sure not to show that to him because I knew that it just seemed crazy even to me. We obviously had some sort of 'unfinished business', between us, when we met. I have never felt what I felt with, and for, him, in any relationship in this life; before, or since. Part, of our destinies, were clearly intertwined. I don't know why.
My cockatiel, CeeBee, whom I have not yet done an in-depth blog post on, 'spoke' to my spirit, with his spirit, after he passed away, and indicated that he wanted to return to me, here on Earth. (I had told him, just before he died, that he would be going to Jesus, and that Jesus could do anything, so that he would talk to Jesus, if he wanted to ask Him if he could come back to me.) Awhile, after he died, CeeBee 'spoke', in my spirit, that, he was coming back! He did, in a slightly different form, that he told me he wanted to try. His first time joining me in this life as a cockatiel was a true 'miracle' testimony, and this second time, as a parakeet, was, as well. I plan to cover all that in a future post. It is an amazing and true story of the power of love. Love between two souls that's so strong and eternal it couldn't be stopped even by death. This angel bird from God was, and is, my greatest love story of all!
Jesus spoke directly to the disciples about reincarnation while also acknowledging their unwillingness to accept it, as truth. (Matthew 11:13-15; Matthew 17:10-13) It both amuses and saddens me how people limit God, to the extent that they will contradict or rationalize what He has clearly spoken in His Word, rather than, take Him at His Word. Christians, often ignore it or try to explain it away, because they don't understand it and can't bring themselves to simply admit that God is able to do anything that He decides to do, and that Love is His greatest motivation. "With God all things are possible." (Matthew 19:26) The Bible makes it clear to me, that nothing is too hard for God.(Jeremiah 32:27) These things I have been describing about me aren't directly related to my marriages with Tom but they're background information, on my being a very spiritual person, throughout my life, because that does include when I was married to Tom. Tom was raised religious but didn't seem to be a spiritual person. I think he was raised Catholic but was attending a Baptist church when I met him, which for whatever reason he never attended again, after we married. However, both, Tom and I, noticed quite a bit of supernatural activity, going on in our apartment that we lived in during our first marriage. He moved in, with me, when we got married, and it was not like that, when I lived there, alone. This spiritual activity affected both of us. It seemed to be, particularly heightened, in me, while I was married to Tom, also, although I have no explanation, for, why, that was. Some of these things were unsettling-- even, to me-- and I was used to having supernatural spiritual experiences happen ever since I was a very little girl.
On Christmas Eve, during our, first, marriage, Tom and I went to the Candlelight Service, at an Episcopalian church, in downtown Omaha, that we did not attend; just to celebrate the Season, with other believers. We sat on a small pew, to the right of the sanctuary, as we walked in, that had space for 4 people. I, normally, prefer to sit at either end of a pew, but for some completely unknown reason we chose to sit in the two middle seats of the 4, so Tom sat in the 2nd seat of the 4, and I sat in the 3rd seat, which left a single seat, on each end, of the short pew. These services, are usually quite packed with people, celebrating Christmas, who most often come as families, or couples. Because of that I fully expected that we would end up scooting over, on the pew, at some point; but, no one ever needed us to so we stayed where we were. As we all stood to sing the cherished familiar carols and hymns I, suddenly, saw Jesus, by spiritual Vision, not physical sight. I have had Visions at unexpected times throughout my entire life. I was delighted, by the sight of the Lord, standing up front, facing the people; and I watched Him smile with obvious pleasure, as He enjoyed praise and adoration by His Christian followers. Visions, are most often, very personal things, that God causes a single believer to be able to see using spiritual sight, so no one else there behaved as if they also saw this apparition. God isn't limited to space, time and communication methods which we humans use. He can speak directly into our spirit without ever opening His mouth, as He did with me, in this instance. I smiled broadly as Jesus eventually walked down the aisle, and sat beside me, in that one vacant seat. He imparted the words to my spirit: "You are very loved!", and then he crossed to sit in the other empty seat, beside Tom. Because Tom and I had challenges in our marriage from the very start and I knew that the Lord knew all about all of them, I thought He was intervening to make things right between Tom and I (although I had felt strongly that I was not supposed to marry Tom, in the first place). Due to that, I thought, that evening, that Jesus was reassuring me, that Tom actually did love me. (I only realized later, when Tom was sent to Korea, and lived with a yobo whom he even abused, cut off spousal support to me with no warning at all, and I divorced him, that Jesus was not, giving me reassurance, that, Tom loved me, but ASSURANCE that HE LOVED ME. I sat alone, in the base chapel at Offutt Air Force Base, for the service, the following Christmas Eve, because Tom was still in Korea and we were not quite divorced yet, so I still had access to the base, as a military dependent. That year, there were no Visions. Just me sitting there, feeling so sad, as I thought back, to the amazing Christmas Eve, just one year ago, as I sat with Tom. I realized, then, that the Lord knew, how UNLOVED and ALONE I would feel, a year later, when He told me that I was very loved-- words which, I have held in my heart over the years, since then; even to this present day and Christmastime.
I looked upward, before the service began on base, that night, and I knew, Jesus was still there in Spirit, even though I couldn't see Him, this time. I whispered, to Him, knowing that, He would know, all, that I meant, by it, "Lord, YOU ARE VERY LOVED!" Years later I also had a silver charm for my bracelet engraved with those precious, powerful, Words, to me, from Jesus. Those few words changed my life!)
That Christmas Eve that Jesus had gone to sit by Tom, the first thing, He did, was to touch Tom on his knee on the leg that was crossed over his other one. As soon as He did that, Tom immediately shifted the position of that leg! I wondered then, how many times, we are touched by the Lord, in some way, but remain unaware, that it just happened, to us. One other thing occurred, in this interacting of Jesus with our spirits. Jesus began speaking into Tom's spirit without moving His mouth as He had just done with me, only He was imparting alot of information into Tom. Intrigued, and frankly, hoping that He was causing Tom to be a better husband to me, than he had been, I spoke to Jesus, spirit-to-Spirit, asking Him if this is what He was doing, with Tom. (Now, all of this was happening without, anyone around, seeing this, as far as I know. So, the church service, continued on, in the natural, earthly, realm, while all of this silent, supernatural, impartation was being done in Tom and I.) Jesus has, almost always, appeared gentle, and loving, in the various Visions that I have had of Him, throughout my life. But, this time, it was different. When I asked Jesus what He was imparting to Tom, and whether it was about me, and our marriage, Jesus answered in a much sterner tone than I have ever heard Him use before or since as He said, emphatically, in response to each inquiry, "It is not for you to know!" I never did know, what Jesus said in Tom's spirit, then. I also couldn't ask Tom about it. He seemed oblivious to that, heavenly download, that the Lord was speaking into him; and Jesus had told me, more than once, as I tried to get Him to tell me, what He was saying, to Tom, that it was not for me, to know. So, as frustrating as that was to me, I had to respect His guidance about it.
Whatever it was, it didn't save our marriage. Either, of the marriages, between us.Tom couldn't live in this basically-one-room-efficiency apartment, of mine, that he moved into, with me, when we married the first time, and not notice that I 'knew' things because of spiritual impartations and discernment. He kept testing me with questions, about things, and I kept passing those tests. When some football game came on TV, he would ask me, as the two teams were taking the field for the start of the game, which team, would win. As I simply sat on the bed, cross stitching, a Christmas ornament, I would look up at the TV screen, briefly, when he asked me, and whatever spiritual entity told me the answer, or however it was that I knew it, I would give the answer to Tom. That team might have begun losing for the first 3 quarters of the game, and look like they could never pull off a "W", at this point. I just knew that I saw a type of halo, enveloping the team, at kickoff, and that they had to win the game; and they did. Once, when he moved out, in one of his sulks, I lit a candle and made a request over its flame that before the candle burned out, Tom would come home. Whenever I would say his name, the flame would become larger; and only when I spoke his name. I'd never done that before or after. I had just felt spiritually led to do that at the time. At exactly the moment the lit candle finally burned itself out, Tom returned to the apartment, saying, in an urgent tone of voice, that all he knew was that he just HAD TO COME BACK; he could not stay away another moment! He looked confused, because it had only been hours since he had moved out, again; supposedly, for good. Whatever spiritual forces were at work in our marriage, though, they didn't seem to want us together permanently. After all, I had been told by God not to marry Tom, but I had done it anyway, and then prayed for God to bless and fix what wasn't even His Will for me, or for Tom.
Tom wasn't normally violent, but we did have to go to marriage counseling with a chaplain on base when he started doing things like pulling a knife on me when we weren't even having a big fight about anything at the time. He told the chaplain I had alot of spiritual 'knowing', because, it was so active during our first marriage, that is became impossible to ignore. The chaplain got a somewhat condescending look on his face when Tom told him that about me, and turned toward his desk to pick up a picture-- like, an artist's rendition-- of some scenario, I had never seen, anywhere, in my life, before, that had alot of assorted figures in it. Looking at me intently, the chaplain requested that I tell him, which one, of those in the picture, was Lucifer. This was an Orthodox chaplain as I recall whose preferred manner of worship leaned toward mysticism, much as my own does.** He put the picture in my hands, and it took me about 2 seconds of looking at the beings it depicted, to scan it, with my spiritual discernment, and respond, to him, matter-of-factly, as I handed it back to him, with the correct answer. It also happened to be the one in the picture most would consider to be least likely to be the devil, were they using their natural, physical, sight to look at it. Tom, wasn't in the least surprised, since he lived with me. This was 'normal' for me. But the chaplain sat there stunned as Tom said, "See what I mean, about Stevie?" (I still went by my dancer alias even when I left dancing to marry Tom, and then with my fourth and final husband, as I had met them both in the Backdoor Lounge where I was working as a dancer at the time. After living my life as 'Stevie', for so many years, it was more my name than 'Deborah', 'Debby', or 'Deb' was.) This chaplain looked at me, and said, with an obvious incredulity in his voice, "I have often shown this picture to people and asked them to identify which character is the devil. No one, has, ever, gotten that right-- until you. I am, truly amazed." Tom and I had several counseling sessions, with this man, but we never knew one single thing about his private life, as it was a professional interaction. However, one day, I was just brushing my teeth before we left for our appointment with him, when the Lord suddenly told me something quite personal about the chaplain, and instructed me to tell him when we went to see him that day. Those types, of directives, from God, sometimes, caused me to feel intimidated, depending on, who it was that I had to tell it to, and the type, of interaction that this was to take place in. Because, this chaplain, was a counselor, to me and my husband, because of marriage problems, this was one of the times that I felt shaky about speaking this rhema*** Word from God; but I had learned to obey God in these situations, despite how I felt, because doing it honored Him.
So, at the end, of our counseling session, later, that day, I turned to the chaplain, before we left, and said, "Chaplain, the Lord gave me a Word for you and told me to be sure to tell you." I paused and then carefully told him exactly what it was. I said, "God said that you and your father are estranged from one another because you have let pride and unforgiveness come between you in your relationship, and because you are a representative of God, as a chaplain, He needs you to fix this." This chaplain, had gray hair, around his temples, as a middle-aged man, who was older than I, at the time. So it was a rather awkward Word, to have to deliver, for me. Nevertheless, I knew, God only spoke Truth, and that He had asked me to do this, for Him; so I did. The next time, I spoke with the chaplain, he told me, that, his father was coming, to visit him, and his family, for the holidays, the very next day after I had told him what God said he needed to do, and that he had just not felt, motivated, or able, to reach out, to his father, in a conciliatory way, to try, to heal their broken relationship with one another. His wife had even been wanting it to be better between the two men, he told me, but until God got involved directly through my rhema Word to him he had not been wanting to humble himself to be the one to attempt that process. Realizing that his God, whom he served, was not happy with the status quo of this situation and that since He wanted it to be dealt with, by him, that God must also be prepared to change the two hearts, involved, he reached out to his father upon his arrival for what had been a dreaded visit by him, and reported to me-- to God's Glory-- that things were now much improved. I always feel, both, humbled, by God using me to reach others that He loves, and amazed, as people, who receive these ministry moments, from God, through me, tell me, about these things, that God is doing, for them, in their lives, that I truly had no knowledge of, myself, prior, to God telling me, whatever He wanted to tell them, through me. There was no more condescension toward me, as a layperson in a troubled marriage, who was being counseled, by him, in this man of God. He was a believer, himself, now, in God working, through me, in various ways, in the lives of people, that He loved and wanted to interact with in a more personal way. He acknowledged, and respected, my spiritual gifts from God, to minister as laity.
I am who I am. I am an empath; even moreso, a mystic, which is not something that I chose to be, or decided to be, and it has made my own life alot harder and sadder, in ways. They say 'ignorance is bliss', but I know alot more, than I let on, because it can often intimidate people if they know how different from most folks I actually am, and that I just know things about them, that they know there is no way that I could know. I don't try, to find those things out. In fact, I often cringe, when God tells me the things that He does about people, and their lives and sins, because I, often, still have to interact with these very people about normal things in everyday situations, and it can be, distracting to my mind, and troubling to my spirit, to have this burden, of the extra knowledge, about people's 'dirty laundry'. Still, I am humbled that God is willing to use me, to touch people's lives, and I'm glad to be of service, to my Lord and my God. I cannot explain how I was able to 'read (the symbols in peoples') palms' and I know that most Christians say that's 'evil'. I've been a Christian my whole life. Granted, I am not a 'normal' one in the sense that I am not religious-- but I am very spiritual. I was Called by God to be. I always tell people that I am totally honest with God about everything because I know that He already knows everything about me, and everything I've ever done in my life and He still uses me for His Glory and purposes. If He didn't use people who are sinners, who are broken and imperfect, He wouldn't have anyone to use! I am well aware of all that I am and all that I have done in my life; as is God. So, a few years ago, when I started attending a new, spirit-filled, church, that was in walking distance of the apartment that I moved into, after, living in the homeless shelter, I knew that, no one knew me, or anything about me, there, which was, a good thing, to me, because, I signed up for a private Prophetic Word session with their Prophecy Team and I wanted a clear Word from God about my life as it was.
When I went into the room, for my turn, with them, I sat in a chair, facing, 3 or 4 Prophetic Team members; none of whom knew me. I prayed, silently, asking God to speak, through these people, and I knew that I would know if what they spoke was truly from God, because God is Truth, so their words to me would have to be true, as well. I was more used to ministering to others. But, after the summer I'd just been through, in 2017, I needed to be ministered to myself, for a change. As I had ministered to the chaplain, at the Air Force base, decades before, through a personal Word from God to him, I needed a Word from God myself, now. Whether clergy, or laity, those of us who minister to others can end up feeling drained, and burned out, if our own needs aren't met, or we don't, also, receive some ministry, to ourselves. 'Religious' people can often be some of the most judgmental people on Earth. God knows ALL ABOUT ME! He KNOWS, that I was a nightclub dancer-- but I told many dancers and customers about God's Love for them over the years and prevented one customer's suicide by giving him that 'good news', the Gospel, from God. He knows that I used to read palms and tell people that those symbols were unique to them, similar to fingerprints, and were specific symbols showing a destiny that was theirs alone. God created each person including the markings on their bodies. I sat there quietly, silently, before the Prophetic Team, who recorded a CD of the session with them, and presented it to me as a free gift, before I left. I stand before God daily as exactly who and what I am, in all my imperfections. I know me, almost as well as God knows me. (Most people don't know me; though they tend to think they do. They decide, quickly, about me, put me in a box, that they think defines me, and do their best, to leave me there, ostracized, rejected.) I knew, that this Prophetic Team was listening to God's Spirit, about me, that day, when one of them said, about me, "You, are careful, to give, God, the glory, in all things." God is my life, my everything, and my all-in-all. I love Him, with all I am.
We weren't sure what was going on with this. My apartment, that he had come to live in with me when we married, didn't have, all this, dark, spiritual activity, in it, when I had lived there as a single woman. One evening while Tom was at work at the military base, my guardian angel, 'Hebriam' (unsure, of the actual spelling, of his name; or if this angel is actually a 'he'), spoke to me as I sat on the bed doing a craft project. (Because we lived in a small, efficiency, apartment, there wasn't a livingroom or a den or a couch or sofa. Basically, just a bed and a dinette set, and bar stools, at the kitchen counter, where we sat to eat our meals.) He told me, his name was Hebriam, when I asked him, during this encounter, so I nicknamed him 'Heebie', because when a being in a deep-blue velvet robe, with very white wings, stands several feet taller than me, and manifests themselves out of thin air, it can give me 'the heebie-jeebies', since it is so sudden and unexpected. Heebie said to me, "You are in danger, from your husband, Tom." After I'd recovered, from being startled, by both, his presence, and his words, I replied, "I never knew, you could talk, until now. From, the first time that I ever saw you, when I was 18, until now (I was around 28 or 29, when we were having this conversation), you have never, actually, said, anything, to me. What, do you mean, by, I'm in danger from Tom?"
My guardian angel said, "Tom is being deceived, by dark forces, into thinking that you are a danger, to him. They are trying to convince him to harm you." "In what way?", I asked. Hebriam said, "The danger that you are in from your husband, is, up to, and including, death. I spoke, to you, because, I was told to warn you. You are not to tell Tom, about this conversation that took place between us, or what I just told you." I said, "But, Tom is my husband! I trust him not to harm me, and I don't think, married people, should keep secrets from one another." 'Heebie' said, again, "You are NOT TO TELL HIM!" Then, he disappeared from my physical sight. I was more prone to do foolish things in my younger years, and going against the angel's directive to me was one of those things. Tom already knew there was alot of spiritual activity, in my life, and in our home. He had even told me that, he had woken up some nights after having nightmares, to see dark shadows of otherwise invisible figures moving across the wall. So, I reasoned (wrongly) that if he knew, what the angel had warned me about, that we could stand, against it, as a united front, opposing these forces, of evil; together. However, when I told him, about it, it seemed to unleash a floodgate of even more upheaval in our marriage and Tom began to act out in violent ways, then-- including when he pulled the knife on me.
My guardian angel, had spoken, to me, what the Lord had directed him to; so, he had obeyed God. I had disobeyed not only his admonition to me but God Himself, who had assigned Hebriam to me, to protect and help me. It felt like I unleashed a hornet's nest, when I told Tom what the angel told me not to. It was like, I was constantly battling the furies of Hell from then on. It began to get worse between Tom and I, no matter what I did to try to make it better. As it became much more unstable, I became so stressed out, that at one point I felt like I couldn't continue coping with all of this, anymore. So, I took myself to the hospital (the civilian one because military members have a security clearance that can be considered to be compromised if their unit became aware that there's violence, abuse or instability being acted out, by them, including, in their home life. If they lose that clearance, they can even lose their career-- and I had worked hard to save Tom's). I told the woman assessing my condition that I was at my wits' end. I was so drained by all the difficulties with Tom, that I didn't know what to do next, to try to make things better, between us. I was crying hysterically as I told her what had been going on.
She kept saying, to me, "You, are just really upset. Go home. We can't admit you, for crying and being upset." She told me that three times, but I was adamant that I could not handle any of this, anymore. So she said, "We HAVE to have an actual MEDICAL diagnosis, to be able to admit you, for insurance billing purposes. So be aware, of that." Then, I was admitted, to the, mental health, floor, for a few days.
The day I arrived, I was told that, I had to have a complete physical exam, which included the, added, female, evaluations, of a pelvic exam, and, a breast exam. I met other mental floor patients in much worse shape than I was in, and my heart just went out to them. But, I felt completely burned out, by Tom's behaviors, and stressed out, by the instability, temper tantrums, and selfishness that he brought into my life and my home. All the patients, on that floor, ate meals together. Both male and female. As we started to converse, with each other, at mealtimes, I was horrified, to realize that, a pattern, of diagnosing women, with breast cancer, was going on in this place; probably for profit, since, the news had, recently, reported that this very hospital was operating in the red, and was struggling to stay afloat. One, of the women, spoke up, as she ate, saying her exam had revealed that she likely had breast cancer, and she was extremely upset by this devastating news! I was, also, feeling, even more, stressed, in addition to the acute stress, that I had begged to be admitted because of, due to the doctor who had examined me when I first came, seeking help, saying that, he'd found lumps, in MY breasts; and that, they could be cancerous, which called for a mammogram to be ordered along with more testing. When, I heard, this one other woman, say, that, she, had been told, that she had lumps in her breasts, which, could be cancerous, and how much that was adding to her feeling really upset, right now, all, I thought was, 'What are the odds, that we were both told that? Maybe, our constant stress level contributes to making us more vulnerable, to this issue.' However, just after, she told us all that, and every patient from that floor was in that room, to eat lunch-- another woman spoke up, even before I could, and said, "Wow! Really?!? I'm sorry, to hear that. I was told the SAME THING, earlier, today, in MY exam!" Then, a third, and a fourth woman, spoke up-- ALL saying that, THEY had ALSO been told this, and that, as a result, of that, more testing was being ordered, for them, which, they did not like, being forced, to have to deal with, along with the, added, anxiety, associated with that frightening doctor's report. After the 4th woman, saying this, I told them that I had been given that same report, by the doctor who had done my exam, when I was admitted. Then, I asked, whether, all the other female patients, in that room, had also been told this news, when examined-- and EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM said, that they had. We all sat there, in shock, looking at each other, as it dawned on us that this hospital had to be lying, to us; or, at least, most likely, many of us.
I left that dining room immediately, asked the nurse to let me use the phone, and I called Tom, to come, get me-- right away; which, he did. Even though, as a wife of a military member, CHAMPUS insurance would cover the cost of these things, it was wrong of this hospital, that was struggling for its very survival, to try to make a profit from scaring patients with false reports of their conditions, and take unfair advantage, of our vulnerability, and our trust, like this; and operate so unethically. Who knows how far, they were willing to take this? Would they claim, after adding a mammogram, to each woman's medical bill, that they no longer saw any lumps; or, would they go so far as to tell us, after that-- and who knows, how many other patients!-- that we needed surgery to remove things from our bodies that weren't even really there? HOW LOW WOULD THEY GO-- for MONEY? MAIMING, people?!? Getting out of there, as fast as I could, that day, put me back into the situation at home, with Tom. But, I still had both my breasts. Not surprisingly, no other doctor ever told me, before, or after, that happened, at the hospital, that I had lumps, in my breasts; or, anything else, that, they would, then, tell me, could be cancerous. I signed out AMA, to leave that place, and I prayed they would go out of business.
What ended up failing though wasn't the horrid hospital, but my marriage to Tom.
When our one year of, legally required, separation was done, and our divorce was final, I left Nebraska to take a nanny job in Dutchess County in upstate New York.[Post is: https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2021/01/why-my-favorite-nanny-job-did-not-last.html] When, that, job, eventually, fell apart, I was hired by a divorced woman with adolescents, a boy, and a girl, whom, I met, but was never actually the nanny for, because they were gone for the summer, to be with their father's family, and the woman who hired me was not a nice person. [https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2021/03/experiences-always-have-effect-on-us.html] I had to scramble, on, very sudden, notice, to get out of her Manhattan high-rise, causing me to grab any domestic worker position, I could find. That turned out to be a job being the live-in maid for a single middle-aged man, in Oyster Bay on Long Island, who sexually assaulted me (by touching but not raping me), causing me to look in the yellow pages of the phone book for a church that might help me get away from him while he was out of the house for awhile. In a pure panic, I also called Tom, who was now stationed at Fort Drum in Watertown, about 30 miles from Canada, in upstate New York. Although he was a weather forecaster in the Air Force he had been stationed at this army base to do that job, after he requested a duty assignment closer to his relatives, in New York City, where he was from, following his year in Korea. Tom, heard the terror, in my voice, as I told him about this man sexually exploiting me, after a quick hire for a domestic employment job, with him, that was caused by the woman in Manhattan doing what she did. Tom told me he was coming to help me, but in the meantime, I had to get out before bedtime, when this man posted his two Dobermans by his bed, and ordered me to lay down beside him. I was truly scared of those 2 dogs-- and, this man! I ran my finger up and down the long list of churches in the phone book, asking the Holy Spirit to show me, which one might help me escape. I felt a strong 'anointing'-- a, quickening, of God's Spirit, in me-- as I touched one, of the churches, name and number. I dialed them, quickly, explaining, the situation, and the pastor, whom I was speaking with, told me that, he was sitting in his office, at the church, when the phone rang, and that, just before, I called, two men, that go to his church, had just wandered into his office and said they had their van parked right outside, if he had, anything, that he needed them to do. God as my Witness!
I knew, it was the church, the Holy Spirit let me know I should call! They drove to the house right away, and got me and my belongings into the van, and out of this house, before the man returned. I didn't get paid for the chores and meals, that I did, while, briefly, working for him, there; but, I didn't get raped again, in my life, either, which I felt, pretty sure, he was going to do to me soon. I called Tom, with an update, that I was out of the house safely, and at the church. Even so, he said, he was still coming, there, to be sure, I was okay. It took him a couple of days, to finally get to the church, due to some car trouble, he had, and other issues on his end. But, another interesting thing, about this church, which the Holy Spirit knew, when He led me there-- was that they had a dorm for transients that their church was helping, right on church grounds; and although a few people lived long-term, in these rooms, one guy, was away, at the time, I was brought there, so, I stayed in that room since he was gone. God is so amazing! I'd never been to Long Island in my life, and after, this man hired me, and picked me up, in Manhattan, to drive me out to his home, in Oyster Bay, I never saw anything else but the inside of his house where I was basically watched by him and kept like a prisoner, for the week or so I was there. When Tom arrived at the church, we spent a couple of days just talking, but when it was time for him to get back, to base (his commanding officer called the church and told me that Tom didn't wait for clearance to come there, by getting officially authorized Leave, so that he was technically AWOL, on my behalf, at that point!), he decided that he didn't want to take me with him, and he left me there in Oyster Bay at the church. That's how capricious Tom's emotions about me always were. Hot and cold, back and forth, with no seeming rhyme, or reason, for any of it. I enjoyed my time in Oyster Bay, though. I was able to stay there at the church, for a few weeks, before I left, to start a, new, nanny job. I did some deep cleaning at the church, while I was there, to repay them for taking me in like that.
I was offered the chance to work for, the, comedic, actor, Bill Murray, in Palisades, New York, as a live-in nanny to his kids. The domestic employment agency said, I could be driven to his house, that very day, to start that job, if I wanted it. It was an overwhelming responsibility to me, so I declined. (Here's a link to the property that Bill Murray lived in, then: https://virtualglobetrotting.com/map/bill-murrays-house-1/view/google/. Instead, I went with a job, through another nanny agency, in Westchester County, New York, to be the, full-time, live-in, nanny, for a, sweet, red-headed, baby boy, named Will. I sat in a movie theater that same year on my day off, from this nanny job, eating popcorn and saying to myself, "THAT could've been MY BOSS right now!" while I watched the 1988 Bill Murray movie, Scrooged. I plan to write a separate blog post about the nanny job that I took at some point.
Fed up, with trying the nanny thing-- which, was great, when it worked out, but I was finding, that was harder to come by, than I had thought-- I went back home, to Omaha, Nebraska; and, to dancing in the nightclubs. One day, I called Tom, at the army base in Watertown. When I called his unit, he answered the phone, and sounded both shocked, and surprisingly delighted, to hear my voice, on the other end. We started talking, again, after I hadn't seen him since he left me behind, in Oyster Bay, before, and I ended up leaving Omaha to go, by bus, to remarry him. I NEVER-- in ALL my (5 with 4 husbands) marriages-- had a REAL wedding dress; or a diamond ring. So, before I left Omaha, I-- rather pathetically-- bought those for myself. Even so I didn't end up wearing the wedding dress. I think we just got remarried at the courthouse there, and I wore jeans; but, it was so unremarkable that, while I think, that is right, I am not absolutely sure of it. As for the diamond ring, I sold it, many years later, because I only wore it a few times, and I actually DON'T EVEN LIKE to wear RINGS! The wedding dress and diamond ring are what, we are TOLD, we're SUPPOSED TO WANT; but, I realized that, I didn't really need OR want those things. I am just not a 'typical' girl, in many ways. Besides unique aspects of who I am, as a person, many of which, I touched on, or elaborated on, in this post, I don't even like wearing rings, and rarely wear jewelry. I sold all my 'real' jewelry pieces, over the years, so when I do occasionally wear jewelry, it is, cheap, costume jewelry-- that I actually like better! Many of the 'trappings', of an earthly existence, that most people seem to want or be chasing after-- like power, prestige, climbing the ladder of success to the top rung, expensive toys and trips, and such, are not things that I want, at all. What, I love, about life, is having real and meaningful conversations where my soul interacts with another person's soul and eating fresh fruits and vegetables while savoring their simple, straightforward goodness. I love going for walks in Nature; listening to the birds, calling back and forth. I like being spontaneous; bursting out into song or doing a happy dance for no other reason than I felt like it. I don't even own a car. I walk and I have a bike I can ride. The simpler, the purer, the better, for me. Laughter, is a real necessity, for my happiness. I don't need, fancy, or formal. I like, for MY life, to be, SIMPLE!
When, I called Tom, at Fort Drum, and we reconnected, which, led to our, second, marriage, I didn't do it because I truly believed it would be any better the second time around. I did question him, about his finances. Whether he was handling his responsibilities. He assured me, he was; and there didn't seem to be unpaid bills, this time around. He did have a mountain of unwashed laundry, though. It seems that he simply bought more new outfits to wear rather than wash those that were already available to him. When he moved out of the barracks, where he had been living as a sergeant, before we remarried, and moved into temporary housing, for families (while we were on the Waiting List for more permanent housing on base) and I saw, that pile of dirty laundry, I told him that, I would NOT BE WASHING IT. I honestly wondered, for a minute, if he had remarried me just to get a wife to do his chores, which he had apparently neglected while single. I was very well aware of Tom's stacks of comic books, still, being, his pride and joy. In fact, in doing the research, for this blog post, I came across a link to Tom's Amazon Wish List, of all things, and ALL that was IN it were publications that appeared to be comic books. I also researched whether he ever married anyone else, since he was always such a Peter Pan, and it appears that he did. I couldn't help but wonder, if she came to regret that, if, in fact, he never did grow up, into a man. He was younger than me so he is 62 now. He shares the same birthday with my deceased cockatiel CeeBee which is November 14th. (My son Jay's birthday is November 15th.) Tom was, still asexual, around me, during the second marriage. Because he had a yobo in Korea and he claims they were sexual, with one another, I didn't know, what to think, or believe, about why he, literally, never tried to (or apparently, wanted to) have sex with me. TWO MARRIAGES, to this guy, and I was living as celibate as when I was single! The few times that I got him to, at least try, to have sex with me, we could have played, 'The Minute Waltz', for 'mood music', because he was all done within that, short, amount of time. I felt like, I was drowning, in disappointments, in life.
I had no illusions left, about Tom, though. I did, go into it clear-eyed this, second, time, around. The alternative, seemed to be, continuing on, dancing, in the clubs. I enjoyed the dancing-- the creativity of performing; of interpreting any song that I got from the jukebox or the DJ with the movements, of my body. Expressing, it. But those men, the club customers that I had to sit and talk to almost every hour of every shift, wanted me, in the most superficial of ways, which began as an ego boost, but became the junk food for a starving soul. Mine. They wanted me, but I needed, to be needed; and, Tom, needed me. Not as much to save his career, get him out of debt, or do his laundry, but to help him grow up. Tom, didn't want me, but, he definitely needed me. There is something about being needed that brings out the best, in me. It causes me to, at least want to, and most often, try to, rise to the occasion. I am my best self, and my most fulfilled self-- given all, possible, options-- when who, and what, I am, as 'me', can be of help, support and benefit to other living things on this planet-- whether that is people, pets, or plants. Even inanimate, projects, with no emotions, need my input, to become better versions. One example from our second marriage was that Tom told me, a few weeks prior, that his annual fitness test was coming up, and that he had done very poorly with it, the previous year. I can't recall now if he was able to finish that, or pass it, but in the military someone can even be discharged from the service, for not meeting fitness standards, and Tom never exercised except for walking places on base. He was, the poster boy, for the term, 'Couch Potato'. He wasn't obese, but, he wasn't physically fit, either. There was a street near the barracks that we were housed in along with other families waiting for permanent base housing, which was not ever very busy with traffic, and I knew exactly what was expected, of him, for this run, that was coming up, because I had been active duty military, also in the Air Force, and I had to pass the same fitness standards, while I was in the service. I helped, Tom, prepare for and pass it by taking him outside, regularly, to train for that run.
I ran alongside him, to both coach and encourage him. I gave him tips, about how to avoid hyperventilating while running, and we ran the distance he would have to be able to handle, when the day of the Fitness Test evaluation arrived. Tom, would never have done any of this, on his own. He was basically lazy, or, at least, he was not motivated, much. I don't know whether that was due to, depression, or not, in the sense that, people who usually choose to live their lives in escapism, may also suffer from depression, or some other psychological and behavioral manifestation, of an inability, or unwillingness, to accept, the, harsher, realities, of life. He wasn't diagnosed as depressed, or being treated for it, or anything else. However, he was extremely escapist. He improved alot, with his run, because of all the support and encouragement that I gave him. I was concerned, though, when it got late, on the day of his Fitness Test, and he still hadn't come home. I made a call to his unit, to ask whether he was still at work. The commander answered, and laughing a little, told me that the unit members had actually done "much better' with their run this year, but they were also requalifying on weapons, and that part, was going poorly. Being on an Army base, which was hosting this Air Force weather unit, that was a big deal, as well. When Tom, finally did, get to the barracks that we were living in, he told me that he completed the run. There was no hug, no thanks, no gratitude, from him, for me, though. Tom was a taker not a giver. I got nothing in return for all the ways that, I was there, for him, in our two marriages, except for knowing I made a huge difference, in the outcome, of the major aspects of his quality of life. I enjoyed, knowing I was needed; but I would have appreciated some affection as a wife. Dare I even say, a little love? It was so daunting and disheartening. I gave alot, while, I settled for so little. It's sad, to think back, to these things, in my life.
I always knew that I was worth more and deserved more than I was given, by the people in my life who were my, most personal, relationships. Parents, siblings and spouses. Even, the military, of my country, that I served when I was enlisted, but was so continually sexually harassed that I became despondent and gave up on it in despair. That teaching that says we reap what we sow pisses me off, because it hasn't been the case for me. I've given so much more to people than I ever got in return from them. Eventually I became bitter and burned out from doing this, and I knew that-- for my own survival-- I needed to stop, doing that. I'm better about it, now; but, still, a long way, from having or maintaining an equitable investment in the relationships, of various types, that I am involved in or engaged in. Perhaps the statement, pictured below, holds the key, to the truth about why I came up so short, after investing so much of my care and concern in others that didn't do that for me, to the degree that they should have, at least, in the name of love, if these relationships were to truly be, happy, and healthy, for both, of us, in those. Maybe it wasn't what I have sowed, that was the problem, but, the soil of, these, people, that I sowed into. I don't think that any of the people who have shortchanged me in my life with these poor quality relationships would ever admit or agree that the fault lies in them, much, more, than it does, with me. I sowed some great things, into very poor quality soil. So, of course, I got weeds, instead of flowers. There is a real life lesson in this realization, but sadly I learned it much too late, in my life.
The consolations I got, in my second marriage to Tom, were outside our marriage. I had never been on an army base, before, and Fort Drum was a big and beautiful base. Home to the 10th Mountain Division. I sat outside, on bleachers, listening to commanding officers praising the achievements of their troops while their families looked on. It was inspiring to see and hear. Army life is a very different orientation to U.S. military service, in many ways, than, the Air Force, that I was enlisted in. I saw soldiers in line to buy things in the Base Exchange (BX on Air Force bases; PX on Army bases) wearing camouflage face paint, after a day of training as warriors. One day, I heard, live, music, and looked out the window of the barracks that was our temporary housing on Fort Drum to see a marching band, in formation, on the street right outside. I grabbed my camera and ran outside to take photos of them, as they marched back and forth while they played the song, Somewhere Over The Rainbow from the movie, 'The Wizard Of Oz'. It turned out to be a National Guard unit, known as, the 'Rainbow Division', from the New York City area, fulfilling their 2-week-long Annual Training requirement there. Their commanding officer, was on the steps of the nearby barracks, that they were staying in, while at the base, and he saw my delight, at the band playing. After he let me know that I was welcome, and not intruding, or out-of-line, I actually went into the paved street as the band did another about-face, while marching back and forth, and laid on the asphalt, to take some photos, of the rows of band members, as they walked right past me. (I gauged, the safest place to put myself, to do this, according to the, fixed, straight, rows, that they were marching in.) When, it was over, I walked over, to thank, the office in charge, for his allowing me that pleasure and privilege. We talked awhile. He introduced himself as Lieutenant Colonel Kessenich. Tom, was still sulking, and had moved out, again, for awhile. I never knew when, he would be back, when he did this, move in, and move out, thing, that he did; including, during this, second, marriage. It was, just what he did, when I placed expectations on him to be more responsible, than he had, any desire, to be. Poor, little, Peter Pan! So, I was often, left alone, by him, at the old barracks; at least, until, he would, 'boomerang' back, again, for, yet another, inevitable, round, of this, move in, move out, game, which never, accomplished anything, except to, allow him, to escape, his responsibilities.
This, happened to be, one of those times. In the course of our conversation, as he asked, how I came to be there, on base, I told Michael (this Colonel) that I was a, married, dependent, of an Air Force weather forecaster, stationed there, and what I was dealing with, from Tom, regularly going AWOL, from our marriage, to sulk. I ended up agreeing to go out to dinner with this man, that evening. I had been left alone, ALOT, by my, so-called 'husband', and it was wearing really thin, for me, by now. I believe we went to the Officer's Club, on base, to eat; and we just talked. I was so glad to finally feel some, affirmation, from someone. He brought me a gift. Two bracelets. He said the solid one represented my strength, that he had noticed as we had talked earlier, after his band had played, and the spiral one, caught the light, representing the beauty of my spirit that managed to remain upbeat despite all of the heartache in my situation. We didn't do anything sexual with each other. We did talk more, for the short time that he was there with his troops, and kept in touch, for decades, after that. Our destinies, did not seem to align, to be together, romantically, but, Michael was a man, that saw, all, the amazing attributes, in me. He reminded me of them, during, many, hard times in my life, when he thought, I might be, losing sight of them, because I was going through so many, bad, things. He really was a, good, and caring, friend, to me, and I appreciated that, so much!
I barely noticed, other families, moving out of the old barracks that we were living in, while waiting for, better, base housing. When, I did see it happening, because a new friend, who I met while living there, would come to our door to say good-bye, when, they got their permanent base housing, I chalked it up to the fact that, she was married to an Army soldier, and that, since, this was, an Army base, perhaps, they, got, preferential, treatment. About the time that, another, family, with small children, arrived, to the barracks, and I overheard, and saw, the mother, combing lice out of her children's hair, after they had just used a product to try to rid them of a, family-wide, lice infestation, in the showers of the ladies' latrine, I started to really pay attention, to the fact that, I no longer saw, any, of the familiar faces, in the halls, bathroom, or kitchen, which, we were, all, sharing, while, we were here. There were, completely, different, people now. I told Tom about there being lice in the barracks now which is easily spread, and I began to question him about where exactly we were, on the Waiting List, for permanent housing. Fort Drum, was in, a real construction boom, while, we were there, and the, permanent, housing, being assigned now, was all, newly-built, quadruplex homes, each with their own private patio and yard. It would be a tremendous, and welcome, improvement, over living in this, old, bare-bones, military barracks! Tom updated me but only when I asked him, about, where, we were, on this Waiting List; saying that, they just weren't to our name, yet. Days, had become weeks, that had become months, and, families, who had come to the temporary housing barracks, long after we did, were also all gone, now, to brand new, never-lived-in, homes of their own, on base. I got more and more insistent about it. Tom's telling me to just be patient, and wait our turn, wasn't cutting it at all, with me, anymore. I thought he was just being too passive about this issue, by continuing to not get it addressed and resolved on our behalf.
I finally took matters into my own hands, and got the phone number for the office that managed the housing Waiting List, and called them, myself, to ask, what was the delay, with, our being assigned permanent housing? I was, stunned, confused, and angry, at their answer. I was told that, our name, had come up, to the top, of the list, to be assigned permanent housing, several times, already; but, that, each time, that it had, they had called the service member (in this case Tom) to let him know, and that he, had declined, the permanent housing, every single time! So he had been, playing me, lying to me, all this time! But, why? Despite our having the usual marital issues, that we had always had, which I have described in both blog posts about him, he had never spoken of, or initiated, divorce, or behaved as if he weren't going forward, with the plan, to move us into permanent housing on base. I was appalled, at what turned out to be the only, apparent, reason Tom had done this. This old barracks, was walking distance, to his weather unit, on base, but the permanent housing was over, on the other side, of the base, and, the base shuttle came through there, but since most people had cars, to get around in, it was only at bus stops on the perimeter, of the permanent housing area; meaning more of a walk, and a farther overall distance from Tom's unit. He did have an old car, but it wasn't well-maintained, so, by the time I joined him, we were without any, usable vehicle. We had to, walk, ride on the base shuttle bus, or, call cabs, to get around.
Tom had no problem, spending hundreds of dollars, collecting comic books, but he wouldn't save it for a car. Peter Pan priorities. He did this to us, to me, because he was, selfish, lazy, and, dealt poorly, with the, adult, realities, of life. I was furious, with him, for this, and told him in no uncertain terms, that he had better get us in permanent housing, ASAP, or he could move back to the barracks he was living in before we remarried, which was also not close walking distance to his unit, on the base. Honestly, looking back, and taking all things, into consideration, with him, I think it's entirely possible, for who Tom is, that he may have remarried me just to get, himself, into the temporary housing barracks, set aside for families, which he could not have qualified for, as a single sergeant. He needed a military dependent, to be able to access that closer location to the weather station he worked in. Lazy man's commute. (Or, boy's, in his case.) Tom, also stood to benefit, financially, by marrying me, since military members receive a pay increase, as part of their cost-of-living and housing allowances, when they marry. Tom never acted like he loved me, or said that he loved me, either time we were married. He wasn't affectionate toward me. He never wanted sex with me. I felt really used and manipulated now.
He knew, I was serious, though, about him, solving, this housing situation, for us.
We moved into a spacious, newly-constructed, home on base, soon after I put my foot down about it. It was a two-bedroom so, the spare bedroom, Tom devoted to his beloved comic book collection, lovingly, sorting them, into stacks, according to their value to him. The only reason, that I knew, Tom was capable of being loving, was because I watched him, interacting with these pieces of paper, that made him smile and his heart flutter with excitement. I do not exaggerate this. As his wife, I was well aware that, in his, mind, and heart, I was no competition, for Superman, Batman, and all of the other superheroes who were portrayed in those pages that he fondled with such affection and enthusiasm. There came a day, in this, second, marriage, that Tom, finally, did, actually strike me. Physically hit me, in the face. I called a base social worker for help, not realizing that it wouldn't be considered as confidential counseling, and they would actually have him arrested by base police, and jailed for a short time. He never should have struck me; and as someone who has been abused, many times, in many ways, over the course of my lifetime, I am tired, of being told, and treated like, the protection of the perpetrators of violence, and wrongdoing, matters more, in the general, societal, scheme of things than my being mistreated, and sometimes, damaged, by that, in various ways. This idea is due to it being a man's world, when it's all said and done. Whether communicated implicitly, or explicitly, it is a horrible legacy, to leave women, who are treated this way, by the men; that they love. That being said-- that, IT IS NEVER OKAY!-- Tom only struck me directly this one time, and it was a slap more than a punch. He put me though alot, in our relationship, and two marriages; but physical abuse wasn't something that was going on, between Tom and I. He had pulled that knife on me, once, and struck a wine glass, out of my hand, causing it to shatter in the bathtub that I had been sitting in trying to destress from all my disappointments with him. But, he was not punching me, choking me, breaking any bones or things like that.
Tom was also, not a bully. Nevertheless, he reacted like any male abuser toward a woman they have mistreated, that they then get into trouble themselves for doing that to. Rather than be contrite, apologetic or conciliatory toward me, his reaction to, the base MPs, showing up, at the weather station, to, arrest him, and take him away to jail, in handcuffs, was to be, absolutely livid, toward me, when, we spoke, on the phone, while he was incarcerated. He, apparently, used his privilege, to call someone, from jail, not just to let me know where he was, but to tell me how mad he was. Not, at himself, for hitting me, but, at me, because of his being in trouble, now, because, he had hit me. Men. I am sitting here, shaking my head, in disgust, and disbelief, at how, convoluted, their thinking is, in terms of, how women should be treated by them. Additionally insulting, in any conversations that I had with his formerly, pleasant-toward-me, commander, following this incident, I received cold, and uncooperative, communication from this man. A total reversal of his cordiality toward me, prior to this happening. Even his commander turned against me, now, after raving to me, previously, that the homemade pumpkin pie I had baked for a visit he had made to the base unit was the best he had ever had. All niceties, and smiles, toward me, until, the shit hit the fan, DUE TO TOM'S BEHAVIOR. I decided to leave Tom and go back to Omaha, because, not only my husband, was blaming me, for this happening, but the small Air Force unit, banded together, against me, as the gossip, about it-- and Tom's version, as the victim, here-- was told, among them. However, I wasn't getting any cooperation, from anyone, including, Tom, to be able to accomplish this, even though, he had been out of jail for awhile, now. I was being totally, and unfairly, ostracized. It really pissed me off. I finally felt that I had no choice, but to call 'the mother ship', Air Force Global Weather Central, at Offutt Air Force Base, back in Omaha, and tell them, the situation. They, were not happy, with Tom, his commander, or anyone else, involved, who were, refusing, to provide assistance, for me, to move, back to Omaha. Tom got extra pay, for being married, but I had NO access to ANY money, in the second marriage. I only did in the first marriage, because I was also legally responsible for his debts, when we'd married, which, he hadn't even told me he had, or that, virtually all of them were, delinquent, or in Collections, or somewhere, along that spectrum, of legal liability.
In the first marriage, I took over his finances, to solve all of that, and save his Air Force career. He had let me do that, because, he had NEEDED me to do that. This was now. Global Weather, told them that, Tom, had to provide me with dependent support, and that the unit needed to offer me assistance, with my moving back to Omaha. The next time I talked with Tom's commander after he had received these directives (that were nothing unusual; and he knew, on his own, I was entitled to, without my finally having to call AFGWC to get their help; but he was just being a prick), I could hear him literally clenching his teeth through every word, he spoke, as he suddenly offered help and cooperation, according to the regulations. It isn't a good idea to wrong me, abuse me, or piss me off, in any way, shape, or form. I weigh things out, and see more than I say about things; and, I bide my time. But when, I have-- finally-- had, ENOUGH, of someone's BULLSHIT, and my righteous indignation, rises up, to a boiling point, in me, I DO TAKE ACTION. Even if it's not 'pretty', or 'ladylike'. God, is on my side, in such situations, and I invite His wrath about it, to be made known, as well. He doesn't take kindly to people mistreating His children. You can BE SURE OF THAT. If you AREN'T sure of that, trust me-- He will MAKE you a BELIEVER. God is a God of RIGHTEOUSNESS and He knows it all. Some people, describe this, as 'KARMA'. Whatever, you choose to call it, it works!
I went back to dancing in an Omaha nightclub, but this time I didn't bother to get a divorce from Tom. I paid for our first one; I figured it was HIS turn, now. He got orders to go to the Middle East, but he was such a coward, that he did everything he could think of, to screw up; enough, that (he thought) they wouldn't send him. But, it seemed that the Air Force was pretty tired of babysitting Tom, during those years that it wasn't MY JOB to DO THAT, and perhaps, they even thought that this would help him to mature (good luck with that!), but I doubt that it would; or did. I actually met a military guy in the club one night, and we got to talking about his training troops, to go overseas, to the Middle East conflict zones. I told him about Tom, and-- he remembered him!-- out of all the hundreds of guys he had to deal with in that job. The reason he did, was because he kept having to discipline Tom, for being uncooperative and problematic, during that training. He said that he had seen alot of, immaturity, in Tom, but that, he DID MAKE SURE that, TOM WENT, in spite of all that. Because, I didn't initiate our second divorce, but I simply went on with my life, while enjoying, the full military dependent benefits-- which I figured, I had more than earned, being, married to this boy-- Tom's mother did it, for him, while he was overseas. She, was afraid that, he might, be killed, over there, and I was, still, his legal spouse, which entitled me to certain things. I didn't resist it, or delay it, when, she, started the process. The divorce papers got served, on me, at my apartment, and I, always, signed them, and, sent them back, as soon, as they came. In the meantime, I tried, a few times, to send care packages to Tom just to help him deal better with his intense dislike of having to be there. I knew it had to be hard for someone like him to handle. He always put, RETURN TO SENDER on it, so they came back to me, unopened. So, I re-sent them to ANY SERVICEMEMBER, and got several very nice letters of appreciation from servicemen, for those boxes. I had sent Tom NICE things, so they were REALLY ENJOYED, by the OTHERS that I re-sent them to, over there. The second divorce, eventually, came through. I went on with my life in Omaha. We didn't keep in touch. Tom, was done, with me, and I was done, with Tom. I had done so much for him, and I had received so little back from him. He wasn't worth it. I didn't want to be a boy's mother. Not, as, his wife!
** mysticism - belief that union with or absorption into the Deity or the absolute, or the spiritual apprehension of knowledge inaccessible to the intellect, may be attained through contemplation and self-surrender. [Also reference my blog post: https://ascentthroughthedarknightofthesoul.blogspot.com/2019/03/trying-to-describe-what-dark-night-of_20.html.] Samantha Vincenty provides another good resource to learn more about mystics in 'Signs You Might Be A Mystic'. The link to her post is https://www.oprahdaily.com/life/a27614027/what-is-a-mystic/ Here is a quote, from that: "Who can be a mystic? According to Starr, a mystic can be a bartender or a bus driver or a schoolteacher or a journalist—it's got nothing to do with your external life and everything to do with internal experience. 'A mystic is an ordinary person who does ordinary things and experiences these moments of profound union with The Source', Starr says." I assert, based on my own life experience, that the list of 'ordinary people' even includes a nightclub dancer. Me.
*** rhema - a spoken Word from God imparted by His Holy Spirit, which is often more specific to the individual(s), it is given to, compared to, the Logos Word, of God, which is His scripture, His written Word, that is given to everyone on Earth.
**** 'Here are 10 reasons most people can’t handle an empath', by Lachlan Brown https://ideapod.com/10-reasons-men-cant-handle-empath/ ; '10 Reasons Why It's So Difficult For An Empath To Get Into A Serious Relationship' by Brianna Wiest https://thoughtcatalog.com/brianna-wiest/2017/10/10-reasons-why-its-so-difficult-for-an-empath-to-get-into-a-serious-relationship/; 'Why Many Empaths Struggle To Hold Down Relationships' by Alex Myles: https://www.elephantjournal.com/2018/06/why-many-empaths-struggle-to-hold-down-relationships/ "They tend to attract people who want to be saved, not people who want to be loved. The classic relationship issue that an empath will face is the one they have with a narcissist – people who have a deep desire to help others are magnets for people who want to just receive their light, and not give anything back."; "Being intimately involved with someone can lead empaths to burn out, as in relationships they are known to give far more of themselves than they should give. If there isn’t an equal energy exchange, they often become emotionally depleted. There are many reasons for relationships starting or ending. However, when it involves an empath, the chances of them working out long-term seem to be far lower, which is part of the reason a lot of empaths are introverts who choose to stay single. . . . It is common for empaths to become so invested in their partner’s well-being that they neglect taking care of themselves. . . . risking their own emotional, mental, or physical health. . . . It is imperative empaths recognise that their compassion and nurturing abilities can sometimes lead to self-harm, because as the saying goes, 'You can’t drink from an empty cup.' It is vital that empaths replenish themselves before they pour their energy into anyone else."
