Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Being snowed-in brings a certain element of crazy boredom.

I know, I know...people over twelve-years-0ld aren't SUPPOSED to complain about being "bored".

I filled my hours with writing a new play, which is almost done, but I'm still not quite happy with it.

I then watched a few hours of Adolf Hitler documentaries on the Military Channel. (Those shows are rather addictive.)

And then I thought, "Maybe I should call somebody-up and completely pour my heart-out to them."

If Drew Barrymore was playing me, it would have worked out extremely well. That person would have proclaimed his affections back. There would be a very happy ending.

However, I realized this is NOT a movie, I am NOT Drew Barrymore, and it's best to start a new novel than do anything so hopelessly romantic and drastic as that.

There is, though, a part of me that wonders, "Well...what if I did that???"

Hmmmm.

Diana Rissetto

Monday, December 27, 2010

I've been doing some reading on abusive relationships lately

There's many different kinds...and I was in one for a while.

No, I was never hit, but I was abused...emotionally, psychologically and verbally...and I took it for years instead of walking away. It would have been really easy to just walk away.

I am often able to find the comedy in bad situations. I mean, I come from a family that is able to make plenty of jokes at funerals. We cope with hardships with a lot of laughter.

For years, I took this abuse, and joked about it...how this would all make such a great book one day. It was all so outlandish that it HAD to be funny...I joked that I had Stockholm syndrome...growing fond of my kidnapper.

Until one day, that relationship ended, by no decision of my own...and I began to reflect on just how abusive it had been all the while.

I went through (literally) hundreds of emails from the past few years to friends...so many said, "I just cannot take this anymore" "I am so sick of being treated like this" and "I cannot stop crying."

After a while, I stopped crying so much because the abuse became so routine. I told myself that I was getting stronger...but perhaps a stronger person would have walked away a long time ago.

Four days before everything ended, I wrote in an email:

"I just cried for the first time in about two years. I can't take being dehumanized anymore. I really can't. "

But, for some reason, when this relationship ended, I felt like I had been completely crushed. I cried for hours, and, almost two months later, I'm STILL sad.

I still feel bad.

I still think back to what I could have done differently to have had another ending and feel like I would have stayed had I been given the choice.

I still blame myself a little.

I'm not sure what I learned from all of this...if anything. I think one thing I know is that I need to have the confidence to never let people treat me or talk to me in a way that isn't completely respectful.

I have the basic human right not be demeaned, criticized irrationally, yelled at and humiliated in front of others and it is up to me whether or not I take it. I gave this person the power to treat me like that, and because I didn't say anything, this person will just continue to treat others the way they treated me.

I know that, for the most part, I am really good to other people. I believe we should treat others the way we would like to be treated...and somebody like this person will never know a true friend.

Perhaps that should make me feel better, but it just makes me feel incredibly sorry for them.

Diana Rissetto

"Deep in December, our hearts will remember...and follow..."

One thing that has always made me especially sad is that I didn't grow-up with grandparents. My mom's father died when I was five, my father's when I was ten, and I never met either of my grandmothers.

When I was in the sixth grade, we had to interview an older relative about their lives.

It seemed like everybody had a grandparent to interview but me...

So, I interviewed my father's cousin, Eddie, who was actually older than my mom's father would have been.

My obsession with all things 1940's and WWII was already in full swing, and Eddie was, of course, a member of The Greatest Generation, had been a war hero, and was more than happy to tell me all about it.

After my father died, Eddie would often come over and help my mother fix things around our house.

Eddie passed away on Christmas Day. I wish everybody could have such a long, full, wonderful life as Cousin Eddie did, and I'll always be so grateful that I had somebody very special to interview for that assignment, when I was feeling extra-sad that I didn't have a grandparent.

Diana Rissetto