I was in Grad School, heading for a PhD. I got a fellowship from my local government: it paid living expenses but not tuition and had as one of its conditions that I would not be teaching while I had it. For the tuition, I arranged an RAship.
A short time later, my boss started giving me those pieces of research which needed the least amount of attention from the researcher. The way I saw it, it was more logical to give me those things which required a lot of human touch, as I happened to be the person in the group who had more time available for research, right?
I talked about it with him, he said he reckoned those tasks “completed” the work I’d already done and published. And well, that’s what advisors are for, right, to advise you.
I ended up getting an “MS without Thesis” after he’d published an article without my name (60% of said article is mine) and informed me that since I was “the best researcher I’ve ever met” and “a foreigner who can’t do anything without my permission,” he didn’t intend to let me get my PhD in less than 11 years.
If I’d realized what an ass he was, I could have tried to move to a different college within the same university before I’d gotten totally fed up with research, academia and the horse they rode in on.
It cost him his tenure, too, as I didn’t yell as loud as I could (and perhaps should) have, but I did yell.
A friend of mine once stated that if your wife lost 20 pounds, lightened her hair and started going to a tanning salon, you were soon going to be divorced. You may not know it yet, but divorce is on the near horizon.
Careful observation on my part has proved this to be true.
He’d spend hours in front of the mirror getting his hair just the right kind of messy.
He was a boyishly handsome freelance graphics designer and web programmer.
He had the funkiest sense of style I’ve ever seen in a guy (and wore some very very tight shirts).
He was in the process of applying for a New Media Arts program at a local arts college.
His favourite movie was Hedwig and the Angry Inch.
…do you see where this is going? I didn’t, until his application to arts college came through and he suddenly decided that he “needed to take some time to explore who he is”.
On the other hand, the BF he dumped me for was awfully cute.
Controlling and abusive behavior, anger management and authority problems, for both of my kids’ fathers.
When the first one presented me with an ultimatum (“Move in with me tomorrow or we’re through”), I dimly thought, “This is…bad.” But at that age, I didn’t really have any concept of what bad could be. Yep, I moved in, and found him to be a fine teacher of bad.
However, I was a slow student, and several years later, when I saw the second one having a tantrum at work, cursing and throwing large heavy things around a crowded room, I only thought, “He never treats* me * like that…”
On reflection, being told “You’re the kind of man I could fall madly in love with” by the first moderately attractive young woman in, like, forever, to be interested in me should have been occasion more for thinking “Run, run away fast” and not so much “All my birthdays have come at once, thank you God”, what with only having known each other for a few hours, but what can I say other than reiterate that part about the first moderately attractive young woman in, like, forever?
Just broke up with a girl yesterday, so this is a pretty relevant post in self-reflection :o
When I got with her a month ago (yeah, yeah, not a long amount of time has passed but the point is I should’ve known better) I had known she was incredibly busy. She was either working, going to school, or hanging out with friends until 4AM. I have the kind of job where it is a real liability to deprive yourself of sleep, so I obviously could not be out until 4 AM hanging out with her. So she wasn’t happy because either our schedules conflicted or she was available but I was tired and just wanted to go to bed. While she could decide whether or not she wanted to go to class the next morning, or whether she was going to write that paper now or later, I didn’t have the luxury of blowing off work. I stupidly thought it would work itself out.
The one before that was a picky eater and had motivation problems, and I had made the mistake of trying to either encourage her to change or learn to accept it. Neither one happened, making both of us miserable. We’re friends now, though, which is nice, since I’ve finally been able to let go of the stupid little things I couldn’t stand when we were together for 2 years
Not a relationship issue either, but one I’m surprised didn’t hit me until it did.
In high school, my senior year, I sat next to a guy in one of my classes who, even knowing I was jewish, would make the most awful anti-semetic jokes he could. I thought he was just messing around with religious ideas, so I’d make some anti-catholic remark.
He’d then hit me.
I mean, not like punch me in the eye or anything, but it was definately more than a playful, joking punch. It took me until many years later to realize that, well, the guy was pretty anti-semetic. shrug.
I could go on about all the signs in the relationship one, but:
I’ve talked about it enough here.
I could’ve actually been seeing things that weren’t really there, and
The fact that although she was happy to come to my place, I was not allowed in hers. She didn’t like it when I stopped by even though we live in the same apartment complex. If I came by unannounced (or at all), it obviously meant that I was stalking her. She made sure to tell this to everybody. Except me.
You are so not alone. One of my mantras in my first marriage was “At least he never hits me (or the kids).”
My daughter said this too, the second or third time she left an abusive BF and moved back home. “Well, at least he never put me in the hospital” (like he did with other women). She didn’t get shed of him for good until he tried to strangle her.
She wasn’t defending him. She was defending herself, for staying with him. That should always be a red flag – having to justify staying with someone.
I’ll add, “He’s never hit me hard.” I stayed with him form the time I was 16 until the time I was 30, and during the worst part I had a baby…on purpose. I’ll third, fourth, fifth, whatever the notion that if you have to justify staying, or his bad behavior you shouldn’t be able to even see around the red flag.
He kept talking about his mother on our first date. The year previous I had just ended a three year relationship with a total wuss who was a complete mommas boy.
Its been two years since that first date and we’re breaking up. He’s almost 30 and his mother is WAY too involved, and it will never change. I should have seen this coming.
He wouldn’t take “no” when he invited himself over to my apartment to watch movies after our first date.
He never left, and we ended up together for three years, in which he robbed me blind to fund his crack habit. Suffice to say I had massive self-esteem issues that led me to stay in the relationship.
It reminds me of the quote from City Slickers: "We had different needs. I needed him to treat me decently and get a job, and he needed to empty my bank account and leave. "
My sophomore year of college I developed a severe case of clinical depression. Only I didn’t know it at the time, because it was the late 1980’s and mental illness wasn’t as openly discussed as it is now, and I didn’t know enough about the disease to realize I had it. I lost all motivation to do anything - For two years I hardly ever went to class, I had no friends and no social life, my grades tanked, and all I did was sit around in my apartment and watch TV, all subsidized by student loans that I’m paying on to this day. I wound up dropping out of college and transferring to a different one, where I got a degree in a narrow field.
Personally, switching colleges was a good move - I met the woman who would become my wife, and I made great friends and have fond memories. Professionally, however, it was a disaster. I could be making millions right now if I’d chosen a different career path.
If I’d known about the signs of depression back then, I’d have gotten help and my life would have turned out quite a bit differently.
When my wife started telling me she thought people were using electronic devices to eavesdrop on and record our conversations in the house, the car, her work, my work, my son’s school, and that people were following her around it took me months to seriously consider the possibility she was mentally ill.
:smack:
