moses-for-the-win

[moses-for-the-win]

In the world of drug dealers and street urchins, manipulation is the standard form of getting ones needs met. I've met six people who lived a nomadic life and sold drugs, and all six of those people either tried to manipulate me, stole money from me, or both. One of them, a heroine addicted high-functioning drug dealer with Autism (my diagnosis) was intelligent enough to accept right away that they weren't going to get anything from me. Another one, who was also highly intelligent, a grifter who used her smarts to hustle people and live in nice houses, tried her hardest to get me to buy into her stories, but ultimately she left after a similar acceptance. One is in jail, another took $60 and disappeared, another tried to slice his wrist in front of me bc I wouldn't love him, and another stole all my power tools. I've recently been entangled with another such person, and yet another is trying to get a read on me. They're all liars, as a rule. It's a survival tactic, it's the tool they've relied on for so long, they don't realize when they need it and when they could probably get what they want by just asking. They lie so that they'll get a "yes" or get praise or encouragement. If they're honest, there's a possibility someone might say no, and they're not equipped to handle that. They can't handle any uncomfortable feelings, really, which is why they do drugs. So to them, all humans are something to get something from. When they meet someone new, they're interested in the person because they're interesting. They're attracted to someone because they admire something about them, but beyond the initial fascination, all they're thinking about is what that person has to offer them. Because of this default way of approaching the world, nothing they say is to be believed without tangible evidence to support it. Meeting a grandmother in person, reading a letter from the military, hearing a phone conversation with an actual friend. I can see them in there, underneath the street and the drugs and the childhood abuse and the anxiety and the lack of stability and safety and continually struggling in survival mode, and they can see I see them. Then when they feel what it feels like to be accepted and be able to be their genuine selves, it feels amazing, and they don't want to let it go. So they don't easily let me go. Sometimes they believe they're in love with me, because of how good acceptance feels. They try and try and try and try to get me to give them the attention and affection they crave. But they love in a world of intensity, of extremes, of chaos. They don't understand calm. They don't understand the necessity of being alone. They think they don't want to be alone, so they don't understand why I do.

[moses-for-the-win]

Damn, I really had a lot to get off my chest. It's a sad thing that I don't have any long messages where I'm telling you all the things I like about you.

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I don't want you to be out in the middle of something that's not your problem, but unfortunately for you you're the only person who knows both of us and who hangs out with. So. Sorry if I'm imposing on you and I'll understand if you don't want to be involved and I'll stop sharing stuff with you. But things with Richard have gotten to be so awful nearly all day every day. We had a good day on Sunday, then the night was awful again. It starts when I get up to go to another room or when I say I'm going to go do something that is in another room. He makes a snide comment about what it is he thinks I might be doing, or about me not wanting to be around him, and if I'm in a good mood, I say nothing and try to ignore it. If I'm on edge, I ask him what he meant by that. It doesn't really matter what I say, it's not what gets him wound up. It's the act of me getting up and physically leaving the space he is in that starts it. For example, of he's sleeping and I am awake and go abiut my day, he gets angry that I didn't wake him up. If I am doing a particular task and I need a thing that's in another room, he scoffs under his breath as if to say, "Figures, as soon as I sit down you leave," (becasue that's what's he told me many times) or says something like "Are you coming back?". When I'm trying to focus on something, like a chore or something I'm fixing or like the curtains, he comes in and out of the room several times and does things to get my attention like do a funny dance or make a funny noise or ask me where something is or just say, "What's up?" or sometimes "Hey," and then he waits for me to stop and look at him and then he winks or gives me a kiss. When I'm doing very physical type chores, he brings me water, but usually he says, "Here," and makes me take it out of his hand, even though I didn't ask for it. Last night for the first time he brought in a bottle and left it for me. So, little improvements.

He consistently sends an inconsistent message. I've come to expect that I will have to adjust several times during my day to accommodate his activity.

He makes comments throughout the day when I do specific things. When I look out a window, any window, he asks me who's out there. Sometimes he flips the window off. When I'm changing next to my closet, he makes a comment about me putting on a show, or asks what I do "back there" or to the window. When I am moving around for whatever reason, if when he walks in the room I am putting something in a pocket, or a drawer, or putting a pillow behind me, he asks what I had in my hand and looks around me. When I get up to use the restroom, he asks if I'm going to take three hours. When I get up in the morning, my routine is to open the front door and the kitchen window to let the sunlight in. He asks me who I'm looking at across the street or just makes a scoffing noise. Then if I leave the area, sometimes he closes the door and window. He has said more than once that he doesn't want people watching him through the living room window, which goes to the back yard. When I use the restroom in the back of the kitchen, he goes to the patio door and opens it, looks out, turns the light on, closes it, and then locks the chain. Whenever I am near an open window, he looks out it. When I'm talking, and I look off to the side or up, which is a common thing most people do when they talk, he looks over to where I'm looking and had a suspicious look on his face. Sometimes he makes comments like, "Is that where the camera is?" He's accused me numerous times of recording him with these little spy cameras someone left here. He pulls out the paper in my trash and reads it. He reads my journals. He looks at my phone a lot. Sometimes he asks me who I'm talking to or about something he saw on the screen. One time he ruined our whole evening being jealous over something that said "John" on my phone which turned out to be a calendar event for the Jon Oliver show I can't figure out how to get rid of.

He makes comments regularly that mention times he's been negatively affected by something I was somehow involved. For examole, his clothes came out dyed black two of the items had serious black wring marks. He uses this incident frequently to

He has been pressuring me to do drugs with him. He says he needs an escape, and he gets me to pay for them. I never ask him to initiate the process. Then when he gets them, he brings them up daily until I give in and do them. I will give him the exact criteria I need in order to do them, and then regardless of whath r or not they're met, he still starts asking me to do them.

He ignores my boundaries or blatantly disregards or defies them. If I tell him I don't want to have sex, he continually mentions it in passive aggressive ways. He pretends to blame his angst on the fact that I didn't have sex with him when he wanted it.

What he says doesn't match what he does. He tells me he wants me to be myself and not feel self conscious and feel comfortable saying whatever to him. He says he wants to be the one I seek out for confiding in. But when I am being myself and doing what makes me happy at the time, he seems to find a problem with whatever I'm doing. I've long had a desire to broadcast online, everyday things, make funny videos. Sometimes he tells me hell film me, why don't I make videos what's stopping me, let's get this going, and then other times he uses the idea as a weapon, and implies I've got accounts onloone for which I do sex shows, or acts like he's afraid I'll be recording him if he walks in and my ohine is on a phone stand. Sometimes he'll ask if I've been live streaming, as though I'd ever do that and not announce it first. He looks me up online and watches my old live videos. He finds accounts he sees similarities ei h me and ask me if they're mine. But when I tell him that's creepy behavior, he says, "I dont care what you do online, Clark, I just clicked on something it suggested." He says he understands the importance of alone time, but when it comes time to need to do something by myself, it's always, ALWAYS, a problem. He says he loves me, but he picks fights with me every day. That I can tell, when he's his lost wound up, his goal is to get me to cry. He does not let up with the combativeness and aggressive behavior and name calling until I snap and have a panic attack. Then when I'm crying, he comes in to sooth me. Then he wants to lay next to me. It takes up a lot of time.

Always finds a way to be the center of my attention. After the fighting has become too much and it's clear that he has nothing but negative things to say, I out on my earbuds and I tell him I am done. I tell him I won't talk to him until he has something helpful to say. I tell him he doesn't need to make up reasons to come say nice things to me, that I will know when I can trust that he's back to normal. Then he brings in a pizza and points to the plate and asks me if I want a piece. Then he warms it. Then he pours me a glass of orange juice. Then he brings in his laundry to hang up. While he's hanging his shirts, he shows me a cut on his and tells me he thinks he got it while using the hammer to hang my painting for me. I tell him to put iodine on it. While he's hanging the clothes in the closet, I see that he doesn't have very much room to maneuver by the closet, so I get up to move my chair farther away, so I can move the privacy screen and give him more room. While I am doing that somehiw my iron coat rack falls on me. It hurts. He goes and gets me an ice pack. But I have no way to tie it onto my shoulder. I tell him where the velcro bandages are and he goes to get one. He comes back and says he couldn't find them, and asks if I know where a flashlight is. I tell him I know where I put the three magnetic flashlights I have and thst they're not in those places so I don't know where they are. But I don't think he was listening becasue as soon as I pause he starts describing one of those flashlights I just said I didn't know the location of. He leaves the room and comes back in empty handed. I asked him he found the straps. He repeated that he couldn't find them before. Meaning he hadn't been looking for the flashlight to help him find the straps. But offered no explanation as to what he needed the flashlight for. Then he walks back into the room and sees me typing. He's holding a trash bag. I don't acknowledge him. He sighs and flaps his arms down in frustration

[moses-for-the-win]

In May of 2022, I wrote this to you. To be honest, I have no idea if I gave it to you. I have a very bad habit of writing long winded philosophies and never sending them. This is unedited, what I was thinking at that time.

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My guess is I'm not paying enough attention to you, I'm not being loving and affectionate, I'm not making you feel like I care for you and am attracted to you. You're not feeling needed.

But...

My distance is a direct result of your actions. I have been responding to the many things you have done frequently enough to give me pause and make me hesitant. Mostly I'm holding back because of how many times you've been a complete jerk to me and acted like an asshole and lashed out at me in ways that didn't line up with whatever it was I did that annoyed you. It's happened enough times now that I don't trust what you say. How am I supoosed to want to love you and give you the closeness you want, if at any moment, you could turn on me and I wouldn't see it coming since I didn't do anything to provoke it besides be myself? So I grew tired of the suspicious questions and asking about my phone and asking what I was doing or if you can go run an errand with me.

Listen.

This is what it's about, for me.

I am very attracted to you. You're handsome and clever and it's not possible to manipulate you. You make me feel like I can climb mountains when you're in good spirits and have energy to burn. I want to make you feel good, too. But I'm not getting to know you. It sometimes feels like you spend an awful lot of time ruminating about iut me and what I'm doing and why I'm not doing it next to you. When I leave the room, it's almost certain you'll be there in about 5 minutes. You say you're not following me. But you are. Sometimes it's innocent, sometimes it's not. Sometimes you come into the room I'm in and just stand there and say "Hey!" and then whatever response I give will be the wrong one. Becasue what you're looking for is a warm smile and a friendly "Hey!" back... And then I don't know what

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It just ends there.