A Shakespearean Conundrum

It was an ordinary day to be sure. Much to do in the kingdom and the hour at hand. The Earl of Narcissus was apprised of the distress of his sister, the Countess. His chariot hastened away while the Lady of Sertraline was left to her own devices.

Now, the Lady of Sertraline encouraged the Earl to run hither and yon to the aid of the Countess. Later, in the twilight, the Lady began to ponder. What of the distress of the Lady herself? The Earl of Narcissus has turned the ear of deafness to the Lady of Sertraline's telestial plight!

The scroll of gratitude was received by the Lady of Sertraline and thus continued the Taming of the Shrew.

Sympathy, Compassion, Empathy

Sympathy signifies a general kinship with another's feelings, no matter of what kind. Compassion implies a deep sympathy for the sorrows or troubles of another, and a powerful urge to alleviate distress. Empathy refers to a vicarious participation in the emotions of another, or to the ability to imagine oneself in someone else's predicament.

Webster's College Dictionary
Copyright 2000 by Random House, Inc.

Something I'm looking forward to.

Just me........being me.

In the light of a new day, I find myself feeling worse than I did before my blog post of yesterday. I opened myself up and yet, still, some arrows hit where my armor doesn't cover my heart. I guess it's pretty impossible to sum up 21 and a half years of marriage to one single blog post.

Where I was looking for comfort, I only brought more pain on myself. Dr. Phil has a phrase that he uses often, "You teach people how to treat you." This has perplexed me for some time. Do I get some payoff by pointing out my husband's faults? I don't know the answer to this, since I have only ever sought help.

The Lord does work in mysterious ways. I now know that the reason why I have no parents in my life is because He has wanted me to rely on Him. In the loneliest and darkest moments of my life I can't help but think of Gethsemane. He felt He was forsaken and alone.

I have only ever wanted my whole life was to be loved unconditionally by a mother and a father. It apparently wasn't meant for me in this life and I have sought to provide myself with substitutes. My husband's parents can't fill this need in me although I'm sure they have tried. I still feel like an outsider.

So here I sit, trying to gather my thoughts together in a manner that makes any sense. My heart is heavy and broken. I have to get up. I have to go on. Just like so many other women have done. I am ashamed of myself for revealing too much of.....me. I am weak.

Not sure if I'm really writing this.

I've typed and deleted this post a thousand times. Hidden behind my "Sunday face" and my constant joking lies the pain that I carry. I have a husband that refuses to help me. I have for 16 years and counting, worked fulltime to offset what he does not make to provide for our family. In addition to this, I have been responsible for taking care of our children, cleaning our home, taking care of our lawn, and taking care of the dogs.

As I type this, he is asleep. When I am working he is either watching television, sitting at the computer, or sleeping. I am fairly certain that the fact that I am actually writing this will serve to strain relationships that are probably conditional at best.

I was advised that I needed to find out what it was like for my husband to have to work for a living back when I got a job. It was supposed to be temporary. Because my husband has all of the familial support in our marriage, my woes have fallen on deaf ears. I have been advised to "be patient" and to just be grateful that I even have a husband.

I guess I am ungrateful. I'm not happy. My husband refuses to change. Listening to talks in church about being cheerful and long suffering are just plain cruel. How long suffering does one need to be when they realize that they don't have a partner?

People think we have this great marriage. It's not. I sure made it look that way though. I'm not perfect nor do I in any way feel that I am. I have perfected the art of lying and blaming everything on his stroke.

My brother is waiting on my decision to come and stay with him.

My boy is in training.

I see that you all still keep checking my blog, probably wondering, "Is she ever going to post something?". Don't get your panties in a bunch. I have been avoiding the news for the last two weeks to see if it would have a more positive effect on my mood. It is nice to live in oblivion, free from murders and the state of the economy. What is the DOW up to these days? Never mind, I don't really want to know.

As I was logging on to check my email (I guess I missed going to the cannery for my order), this little treat popped across my screen:



After his little "bong" incident, he has served his suspension from training and is now back in the pool! Swimming is so much more exciting with Michael Phelps around. I don't know what's with the dude next to him, his suit makes it look like he is quite possibly swimming in the nude. I'll pass, thank you very much.

Other than this, there isn't much going on in the Johnson household. As Mark says, "there are only 3 and 1/2 more days of school left!" Mark has been eager to express his individuality and independence as of late. He wants his hair to be longer, because that's how the boys are wearing it these days. I compromised by letting it go until after the last day of school, and then SNIP SNIP! I'll post before and after shots of this next week.

Mother's Day was pretty blah. Refer to last years' post on my feelings about that. Although, I had fun making Brit a Mother's Day gift. Yes, we do honor her as well as it is a difficult day for her.

The heat is on and so is the air conditioner. Bills, bills, and more bills. I think I need a utility stimulus check for the summer. Do you think Obama would buy it?

What a couple of weeks.

I suppose it's high time that I published something for my readership. You know how it is, you just get busy. Since my last post, I was preparing mentally and physically to go to Women's Conference. It takes so much preparation to leave your family behind and go do something.

I went to Women's Conference with Elizabeth, Valynn, and Julee. Together we comprise the Primary presidency for the Baywood Ward of the Skyline Stake. We prearranged for the Stake Primary presidency to fill in for us, as we would be traveling home on Sunday.

We left on Wednesday morning and stayed at my uncle in-law's place in Springville. He was an excellent host and we were very comfortable there for what little time we spent there. The conference was on Thursday and Friday. We were exhausted as we hoofed it all over the BYU campus to get to the various classes. We lost an hour going to Utah. What a precious gift when we got that hour back when we got home!

Saturday we did the SLC thing. It pretty much rained all day, but we didn't care. We did a session at the Salt Lake Temple, ate lunch at the Joseph Smith building, and perused the shops around Temple Square.

All in all, we had a great time. Then, I got home.



I have begged, cried, wailed, and pleaded that somehow, someday I could come home from somewhere and that my family (read: husband) would bless me with the glorious gift of having filled my place so seamlessly that it would not require me to spend the next week cleaning up what was bequeathed to me. Am I asking too much? I think not since I also had to make up for the 3 days of work that I missed as well.

Heaven help me.