On her way home Emma was running her therapy session over and over in her head. Her counselor, Madison, says nobody can hurt you unless you let them. Emma couldn’t reconcile that bit of news with her life experience up to this point. She didn’t want to be difficult or resistant to therapy or anything like that yet how could she swallow something filled with more holes than your average slice of swiss cheese. And this wasn’t the first time this woman named after the capital of Wisconsin had told her something that made about as much sense as leaving your cat to watch over your tropical fish.
Just a few weeks ago Madison had told Emma it was up to her to clean up the house if it bothered her that it was dirty and that she couldn’t expect her husband, Dillon, to put his glass in the sink unless he wanted to. If it upset Emma to have glasses about the house she was responsible for cleaning them up. That just didn’t seem fair to Emma. Madison explained further that it worked both ways and that Dillon also couldn’t expect Emma to pick up after him or even herself unless Emma wanted to.
Well that just made even less sense. Were they supposed to live in a pigsty with nobody cleaning up nothing unless they felt like it? Who feels like cleaning? Madison had gone on to explain that it is important not to have expectations of others unless there has been a previous arrangement or contract of some kind. Well thought Emma, didn’t we say I do? Isn’t that a contract? Doesn’t that imply somebody is going to clean something at some point?
If Emma accepted what Madison was saying then everything is all about who blinks first. Just leave shit all around and never clean nothing until one of us can’t stand it. Well that was just about the stupidest thing Emma ever heard because for sure it wasn’t going to be Dillon who couldn’t stand it. Yes, but Madison explained, that perhaps it will be Dillon who remarks about the state of the home. And then Emma could explain to him that if he doesn’t like it he needs to clean it himself.
Well something like that had happened this past week and Emma had tried to explain this to Dillon. But Dillon had no interest in listening to this therapy mumbo jumbo as he called it and told Emma she was a filthy pig, a lousy homemaker and a poor excuse for a wife. When Emma relayed what had happen this past week to Madison saying how much Dillon’s words had hurt her, Madison further explained how others can only hurt us if we let them. And how we create the reality we want for ourselves. Madison went on to say that what happens to each person is pretty much what each person makes happen. Emma left Madison’s office completely perplexed that day. This counseling stuff just made no sense.
As Emma arrived home she noticed Dillon’s truck in the driveway. When she walked through the door that entered into her somewhat less than pristine kitchen Emma was instantly aware of a distinct odor. That smells like shit she thought. She looked around and noticed there was manure all over the floor and the walls. She walked into the living room and found her husband smearing what appeared to be shit of some kind over the hardwood floors. “What are you doing”, she screamed at Dillon. “I’m just trying to make it more comfortable for you cause apparently you like living in shit”, explained Dillon.
Emma turned and walked into the bedroom as Dillon continued smearing shit everywhere. She picked up Dillon’s baseball bat that was leaning against the wall and stalked back into the living room. Before Dillon could even see what Emma had planned she smashed him over the head and he crumpled in a heap on the floor. “Well, how about that”, smiled Emma, “who would have thought Dillon wanted me to smash him upside the head.”
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