Well, Skippy finally called-don't know if he finally read that email with an open mind, & I don't care. I spoke my piece, it was as much for my benefit as for his.
He, of course, offered up his excuses, as though I might soften my stance if I had pity enough. In the beginning it sounded like flattery, of a sort. How cooking and laundry and the like were inconveniences to him because he's had someone (that would be me) to do these things for him for the past 10 years. But he repeated the cooking & laundry, added having to walk or bike everywhere, showering & eating to the list. My response was to comment that he sounded depressed & he might want to get some help. (Yeah, I know, meddling again, rescuing someone I shouldn't) As much as I don't want to be responsible for his upkeep anymore, neither do I want feel like his downfall is my responsibility. That's one of the reasons I put up with his nonsense for as long as I did. I didn't want his crash on my conscience)
So. He hesitated, then said he was not depressed, he had (insert dramatic pause, with fretting about my laughter, here) bipolar. I doubt he's got an official, medical diagnosis, but bipolar disorder makes sense, explains an awful lot of the past 10 years. He whinged about having another lable on his head, but that's his burden. 99% of his lables are of his own devising. Really, I feel for him, but getting help is his to do.
I let him fuss at me a bit about how much EI is paying him & what commitments he has for those funds. I accepted his explanations about the source of his expensive toys (he claims it was in partial payment to a friend who owed him money-I'd like to know where the money came from in the first place, but can't hear another convoluted, contradictory tale of woe) I don't much care. I told him I had no desire to fight, didn't want to gouge him, just asked him to be fair & gave him a number I thought was reasonable until he goes back to work. If he goes back to work. I don't think he liked me pointing out that he had job-all he has to do is make a decision, but its the truth. I'm finding job-hunting more than a little frustrating, so I don't much appreciate whinging from someone who is chosing to sit on his hands.
In the midst of our conversation about his current mental state, & I don't quite recall how it came up, he accused me of being "cold & shallow". Not a new accusation to be sure (& I don't think we use shallow the same way-as in lacking depth) I do know that my shyness & natural reticience have caused people to misread me as cold & aloof, until they get to know me. I choose my friends with caution and I care deeply about those I choose to love. In an earlier post I believe I discussed how difficult I find it to let people go. Yes, I keep my cool, keep my emotions in check. If I need to freak out or fall apart I do it in private. I don't have the luxury of giving sway to my every emotional whim or reacting overtly to every provocation. Who has the time, or the energy? I do let things roll off my back. He used to ask why I didn't flip out about this thing, or that, & generally my response was that one of us needed to keep both feet on the ground. Maybe if I'd ever had an emotionally strong or stable partner I might have been more emotional. Maybe not. I've always been pretty private & careful about my emotions. That's what my journal is for.