Nemesis

Nemesis: 1. A source of downfall or ruin. 2. An implacable or unbeatable foe.

We all have our own personal nemesis (or multiple, "nemeni"?). As a true human beings, most of us can claim to have been self destructive at one time in our lives or another, or in many cases, on a constant basis. We most likely continually face obstacles that at times do seem unbeatable.  On the general stage of the human condition twists and turns our various plot points often exceeding tolerable levels, but most of us are programmed to "stay positive", "buck up", "put our best foot forward" (enter optimistic cliche here). Or at least fight our battles without constant complaint. Who the hell wants to listen to constant kvetching? Who would admit that there are forces out there that can just kick our asses,  have the power to reduce us to blithering imbeciles, to behave completely irrationally or immaturely even though consciously we should really know better? Mea culpa. On too many occasions, I fear.  I've had the opportunity to evaluate my nemeni as this week I've been presented with some recent, some from long ago. And continue to fight the urge to return to nemesis habits.

As some of you know I quit my 31 year nemesis tobacco habit the end of September. Cigarettes were my relaxation and also my problem solvers. I used tobacco to calm me at moments of huge anxiety and also when I was at my most laid back. I smoked while talking on the phone, I smoked after every meal, I smoked while walking outdoors, I stood in front of public buildings in all kinds of weather, puffing away. In fact, there really wasn't a time when I wasn't smoking, except asleep. And hell if anyone was going to tell me to stop. Smokers are stubborn. Some non-smokers believe that people who partake of tobacco are just plain stupid. The fact is that smokers were lulled into thinking that it would be easy to quit when they began their cigarette journey. That by just having a cig on occasion wouldn't get them hooked. But nicotine is so insidiously addictive. Sooner than later a "casual smoker" finds themselves buying packs. Rituals are created. A lifestyle is born. And no amount of good natured advice against the habit is taken seriously. In fact if anything, scorn just makes a smoker more militant. I've found that unless a smoker really wants to quit and just ditches the addiction, the only other thing that might make them seriously consider dumping it is when they get their "serious illness" diagnosis. And even then, it might take degrees of seriousness. As I said before, smokers are some of the most stubborn people I know.  

It was my 2nd round with breast cancer (yet another nemesis) that made me quit. And even then it was because the reconstructive surgeon refused to take me as a patient that I did. So it was really vanity that make me stop my love affair with tobacco. Was it hard to quit? Not as hard as I'd expected. There were much more difficult things to endure than losing that habit. Two and a half months after quitting I can say that the few triggers I still have are not horrible. I am really glad not to be a slave to them. I don't have to be a pariah, or to get jumpy in airplanes. I don't have to run outside of restaurants after the last bite. There's little chance of starting again. That would require going out and actually purchasing a pack, and I'm simply too lazy to do that. So...one nemesis down.

Deer are another nemesis. They're just rats with antlers up here in The Gold Country. We have simply too many of them and not enough natural predators. They aren't Bambi. They are the worst thing you ever want to hit with your car, especially in November and December when they are in rut, making them even worse targets as they chase each other all over the roads. Some residents think they are being virtuous by feeding roaming herds that come through their property. They are NOT. Four years straight we hit bucks on the main road heading into town. On the first occasion we hit a buck, then hit a pole, then a fence, then did a 360 and finally ended up facing oncoming traffic. And passing motorists can be so kind. Their concern wasn't for our safety, oh my no, they wanted to know what WE were going to do about the deer we killed by wickedly attacking it with our car. On another memorable incident, I tried to avoid hitting one who was racing traffic, lost control of the vehicle, hit a wall at 40 mph and rolled the car. We ended up hanging upside down held in by the seat belts, thinking the car was on fire because of the smoke from the air bags exploding open. Thankfully the power windows still worked and we were able to climb out the passenger window. Needless to say, that car was totalled. 

We went for a stretch of lucky time with no subsequent deer encounters. I suppose I just got cocky.  One must never assume cockiness with deer. I know this now. Yesterday, my husband had gone out front and rushed back in telling me to be very quiet, but I MUST come outside and see this. In our driveway, there was sitting a live doe. She stared in desperation back up at me looking down on her from our front porch. I knew instantly that there was something really wrong, deer don't just sit there and stare back. Both me and my husband got our cameras out and took some pictures. Then I just stopped and looked into her eyes. I tried to tell her it was ok but it was a lie even in telepathy. I moved closer to her and she tried to move away but she couldn't get up, both hind legs were broken. As I knew our city Animal Control was closed on the weekend (de-funded by budget cuts, EVERYTHING CRAPPY IS BECAUSE OF BUDGET CUTS!) the city cops were called. A half hour later an officer arrived, assessed the situation, waited for another officer to arrive with a lower caliber gun, and one pop later the deer was duly "dispatched".  I was indoors, but the sound of that gun going off made me nuts. I had a sudden anxiety attack on the spot. The nice cop came back to the door. He was sympathetic, but due to liability issues, they were not allowed to remove the carcass from my property. I could call County Animal Control and see if they could help me out. Oh but of course they couldn't. We live out of their jurisdiction. I could call some local yokels who would charge me $80 to take it out of my driveway if I really needed it out of the way before Monday. No thanks. I put an appeal out on Facebook, free venison if someone would haul it off themselves. Weren't there ANY hunterish people out there who could use a fresh kill? Guess not, because as of Sunday evening, the damn thing is still in my driveway. I can't even drag it out to the street, because then I'd get fined for littering/causing a road hazard as the local law knows it's their bullet.  I'm not going to allow the "budget cuts" excuse let this thing rot on my property. Tomorrow it's war.

I'm not a stalker. Let me just put that out there before going on. I must admit when I was much younger I did participate in some stalkery behavior, but let's just blame it on the irrational nature of lust/unrequited infatuation. These days as a middle aged adult, it's hard to find enough enthusiasm to even get out of bed in the morning, never mind obsessing over old flames. I no longer wonder "what-if". I KNOW "what-if", and it 'aint pretty, no matter how perfect a world it could have been. That said, there's always Google. Don't any of you tell me you haven't looked up old lovers and steadies. I don't care how blissful your marriage is, you've all gone there. It may be just to satisfy curiosity, or you may justify it for altruistic reasons (ie: just want to see if they are still alive/happy/married/how many kids/aged well) or maybe you are all really weird obsessives. I will admit to Googling a few of my old flames, I've even friended most of them on Facebook. But there was one elusive person who I was either convinced was dead, or made it a point to have no online presence. I dutifully looked them up on a every other yearly basis since we had the ability to do internet searches. I never went as far as paying for any of those "background searches", there was no way I could go there, but several months ago I did send a Facebook message to this person's brother, with little expectation of a response. I haven't lived anywhere near this person, hadn't since '92, so there was also no way of physically expanding my query. In fact, I'd pretty much figured that if this person wasn't dead, they just really wanted to be left alone. Any disturbance from me would likely be unwelcome.  By sending a message and my phone # to the brother at least I could allow that person to decide to contact me. And honestly, I thought that person had chosen not to. I had left the message months ago. Until I got a FB friend request three days ago. From my long ago nemesis/unrequited infatuation. Whoa.

Actually, to say that I acted irrational all those years ago would be an understatement. I could probably beat the rap by blaming it on hormones. but I know now that is just a big fat lie. I would have done ANYTHING for this person, and often did. I behaved badly. I behaved nicely. I behaved like a psychopath. I stalked, cajoled, cried. I gave myself freely. I schemed, I lied. I thought I could never find another person so charming, so sexy, such a perfect match and I was willing to forgive them all their flaws to just share even a moment with them. Many say it's not important to dwell in the past, but how can I possibly deny the all I am, how I got to "here" by not dealing honestly with the "who I was"?

But I have moved on. Just because I get a wee bit stalky online doesn't mean that I still pine for anybody. I am married to a man who deserves the Presidential Medal of Honor for dealing with the battlefield of me. And who has stuck around for the long haul. I doubt any normal person would have the fortitude to do the same, never mind choose to have a family with me! Nevertheless, my stomach started feeling fluttery when I heard this past world person's voice. They were only allowed to speak for a short moment but promised to call back. During the wait I felt all the old psycho teen giggly schoolgirl feelings returning with a vengeance . I wanted to come off calm and collected, mellowed and wiser, not reduced to my own embarrassment. I was becoming the high strung, easily distracted person I thought I had left behind long before menopause. No this would not do. NOT DO AT ALL. I would be strong. I would be the person I'd earned. And just like quitting smoking, it really wasn't all that hard to do. Nemesis person and I had over an hour of phone conversation. They were just as charming as ever. It was a lovely time. We both remembered things about us, which in itself is lovely as thirty years time has passed since we first met. And I cannot in any way continue to call this person my nemesis anymore. There are far too many other things like deer and cancer that continue to be my obstacles, but nothing that can't be beaten. I write this while listening to music from our time together (not intentionally, it just comes up on IPod random, like it's reading my brain) and realise I now have a very important thing that I didn't have way back in those chaotic days of unrequited intensity. I have discipline. And I AM truly glad that the ex-nemesis person is still alive.

Happy HOLIDAYS!