It was 50 years ago today

Sgt. Pepper taught the band to play
They've been going in and out of style,
But they're guaranteed to raise a smile,
So may I introduce to you,
The act you've known for all these years,
Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

And on that same album in 1967 was a song by Lennon and McCartney titled "She's Leaving Home".

Which I will get back to.

This blog has been quiet for a couple of days due to a lack of privacy that I should have foreseen.  Shoulda, woulda, coulda seems to be the theme of my life this past year, or these past 41 (42 now) depending on your frame of reference.  Anyway, another part of the reason, which ties in, has to do with my sister, whom I shall refer to as Ida, and her husband, who will henceforth in these parts be known as Hoag.

Seems that Ida and Hoag had a flight to catch to Idaho (now you get it) and being the kind, generous brother/brother in law that I am, I drove them to the airport to board said flight.  However, as luck would have it, Hoag developed some medical conditions that prompted the plane to return to the gate, eject both him and Ida to a waiting ambulance that whisked them away to a local emergency room.  What does this have to do with anything?  Patience grasshopper.

This occurred yesterday but I neglected to inform Scarlett.  Not out of spite but simply due to my being unsure whether Ida and Hoag would want this information shared.  And that brings me to today.

Mornings and I have not been the best of friends in about a year.  In truth I have learned to dread them and the best part of my day usually begins around 9:00 PM.  My phone is quiet, emails have mostly died down and I am able to think, ponder, wonder, dream, fantasize and pray without being interrupted by something or someone.  Usually.

So, this morning was that kind of morning.  Scarlett noticed something was wrong (the same thing that has been wrong for the past week that I have been in residence) and inquired as to how I was doing.

Salty: Not well thank you.

Scarlett: Why are you breathing like that?

Salty: Because.

Scarlett: Because why?

Salty: It's called stress, anxiety and depression

Scarlett: How long has this been going on?

Salty: (thinking to himself, really?) Just about a year....

Scarlett: Is there anything you can take for it?

Salty: Yes.  And I am.  All the pills and supplements you see up there that you wanted me to stop a week ago.

Scarlett: Can you take more?

Salty: Taking the max right now.

Scarlett then wanted to pray, told Salty how sad and sorry she was that he felt this way and was there anything she could do.  No, but thank you.  Breakfast was offered, coffee was brought up and sad looks given.  Towards late morning Scarlett asked about my plans for the afternoon.  Informed her that I had my weekly meeting with the Shah but that I would be leaving very early for that to stop by and see how the patients were doing.

Patients?

So I then told Scarlett about Ida and Hoag's misfortune yesterday.  At least that's what I remember telling her.  But based on her reaction I apparently must have said how she looked remarkably like a decomposing swamp monster or something equally awful.  She began to cry then scream.  Then more crying and more screaming.  I was told in no uncertain terms that I was "hiding" things from her.  She was a member of the family and had some sort of right to know.  I tried telling her that I didn't mention anything because I was not sure that Ida and Hoag wanted this information shared.  Nope, that doesn't matter.  She is my wife and therefore I guess I am duty bound to tell her everything about everybody.  Not her words but that was the gist.

She retreats downstairs where she resumes crying, slamming a few drawers and whatnot and eventually comes back upstairs where she retrieves a suitcase from the attic.  Scarlett looks at me, the suitcase then me again.  She picks up the suitcase, carries it into the room and I hear drawers being opened, pills being tossed around and before I know it she is standing in a doorway announcing that she is leaving.  Told you I'd get back to that.

But not quite.  The histrionic as well as the borderline personality type loves drama.  And this smelled to all the world like one big drama play.  Scarlett attempted to get me to say something to stop her from leaving.  All I could say to her was that I was not the one who asked her to leave nor did I tell her to leave.  But she had painted herself into a corner and could not not leave without losing face.  And that is precisely what she did mid afternoon today.

Now, I haven't seen the exact movie before but based on my years of experience I highly suspect that she will be back.  I am told, by a certain mole, that Scarlett has said the only way she will come back is if I do something "grandiose".  There will be a very long wait for that.

I truly feel sorrow and anguish over what Scarlett has managed to do to herself.  Of course she is not entirely to blame, I have admitted to my fair share in this year long odyssey but sadly the histrionic/borderline type does not have very good impulse control.  A thought enters their head and they either have to speak it or perform it without first thinking it over.  That has to be an awful way to live but there is precious little us "non's" (non personality disordered) can do about it.  Well, that's not entirely true.  We can, as I have done far too many times in the past, accept all the blame, offer apologies when demanded, say that we are sorry even when we've done nothing to be sorry for or about and generally roll over and surrender to keep some fleeting peace in the marriage and household.  Speaking from my own experience, that too is no way to live.

I realize this is an exceptionally long post, for those of you who got this far, thank you.  I am reminded of yet one more song on Sgt. Pepper's that is very apropos for me at this time in my life.

With A Little Help From My Friends 

I can only hope that I am not still on this blog (another song from Sgt Pepper's)  When I'm Sixty-Four.