The Man Hater

MCS is isolating, as we all know. Besides the need to self-protect 24/7 and besides the constant irritability that comes with each toxic exposure, I prefer my solitude. People just drive me nuts. I have no patience for them.

However, this year I have decided I need to be less reclusive. I need to meet new people, make new friends, form alliances, and find support. This is my New Year's Resolution and I'm doing a darn good job at putting myself out there, attempting to be less isolated, and being more friendly. However, believe me when I say, it's been a challenge.

Lately I've become talkative to anyone who will listen. I force myself. How else am I to meet new people if I don't expose myself? No engagement and I am invisible. My victims are the grocery store people, the librarians, the postal workers, people on the street. It's difficult for me. It somehow feels like a violation of privacy which is a clear indication of how reclusive I've become. I'm still not friendly with my neighbors. One step at a time.

So...When my postal guy said, "I know someone who is just like you."

My first question was, "What do you mean like me?" (I really need to check my apprehension if I want to meet new people.)

"Chemically sensitive." Really? Out in the middle of no where? On the edge of civilization? Someone who is chemically sensitive? Unbelievable. (I really need to check my skepticism.)

He asked if I was willing to share my email address and he'd deliver it. (He's a great postal guy!) He told me the Man goes to his church. Church-going didn't sound like chemical sensitivity to me.  Hmmm...My apprehension and skepticism was raging. Do I listen to my instincts or venture forth for some risk-taking people encounters?

I asked, "Is the Man weird? I mean is he going to stalk me or kill me or create so much stress my life would end up in the sewer?"

Postal guy didn't think so, but he informed me the Man is an artist. Oh! OK. I'm intrigued. A new artist friend would be good, someone who would not poison me if indeed he is really chemically sensitive.

I waited for about a month, but never received an email. I thought maybe the Man decided it was not a good idea and I was fine with that because I was having second thoughts myself. I like no stress in my life. I like feeling safe. The next time I saw the postal guy I ask if he gave the Man my email. He said yes he did, and he would check. The next day I received a note card in my mailbox addressed to my first name with the address added in another person's handwriting. His note was very cryptic. Or maybe he just wasn't good at writing notes? What does, "I feel for you in this new year" mean exactly? Hmmm...my instincts flared.

I emailed the Man. Much of his writing was incomprehensible, but he seemed pleasant, and I was determined to find myself a new fragrance-free artist friend so I threw all caution to the wind. We shared how we became chemically sensitive. The Man was poisoned in an industry job. I wondered if the Man had some brain damage which made writing (thinking) (spelling) difficult. We agreed to meet at a local park on Sunday morning. I worried. Is he weird? Will he stink? Oh god, this is a bad idea!

So Sunday morning I drive to the park chanting, "Be brave. Take a risk." I could see someone sitting at a picnic table halfway across the park. Is it the Man? Why is he sitting so far away? I walked toward him. He's all splayed out on the picnic bench leaning back against the picnic table, arms wide across the table, legs apart, nose stuck up in the air, refusing to look toward me. I kept wondering if his unfriendly, arrogant, self-righteous demeanor was just because he was nervous. I was nervous. I don't like meeting new people. There is always too much at stake. He had to have seen me approach him, but he refused to look at me. I walked right up to him and asked, "Are you the Man?"

He responded without hesitation, but still refusing to look at me, "Sometimes I'm not sure."

I yelled, probably louder than necessary, but feeling pissed off at his apathetic attitude and rude insensitive inconsideration. "ARE YOU THE MAN OR NOT?!" Am I wrong to have expected him to get up off his ass and at least attempt to meet me half way through the park rather than have me grovel for his attention?

He jerked to attention, finally looking at me, and stuttered, "Oh, oh, yes, I am the Man."

I sat. We talked. It was friendly. He didn't stink. We discussed MCS. I asked him if he was following any health protocols or reading any books. No, he doesn't read because he's far to busy with life. Really? His arrogance was nauseating. I suggested a dietary plan since he was having so many bad allergy symptoms. He talked about himself constantly and he kept lying to me. About everything. I have a really good sense for lying especially when the liar keeps contradicting himself. He kept repeating how honest, respectful and moral he is. I wondered why he feels he must sell me on his honesty? After a while I started excusing myself to leave, but he'd keep stopping me with another question. Eventually I got up, said good-bye, and started walking away. He yelled after me, "OK. Now what is next?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do we do next?"

I told him, "Now we go home and the next time we email we'll say 'Hello friend, how are you?'" He seemed perturbed. Clearly he wasn't interested in just a friendship, but he wasn't taking my subtle hints and he obviously misinterpreted my emails that explained my friendship goals. I felt sick to my stomach. I probably should have again explained our relationship right there, but truthfully, I didn't think he would take it well and thought an email might be safer.

As expected, the next email he went off on how it would have been a perfect date if we had a picnic. Clearly, the Man was looking for a love connection. I made it clear this was not a date nor a love connection, but only a friendship. He became defensive. He blamed it on society for making people not appreciate his honesty. Whoa. I wrote back to him told him it was ridiculous to be defensive after he so highly values honesty and I was being honest, but more importantly, if our relationship expectations are different, then this will not work. He seemed to accept that, but then he decided he needed to send me a lengthy list of facts about himself. I thought it strange how much I know about him and how little he knows about me. He hardly asked me any questions about myself.

He began emailing me continuously with a play-by-play of his daily activities, more lies, and more justification for his perfect behavior. We argued about everything especially our impending relationship.

Since I was busy with my own life, I couldn't respond to every email. The Man emailed again stating I was going to support him with his health issues and told me he would do the diet but he expected me to supervise and pick at him to death.  Clearly he was under the impression this was my responsibility as a woman and his most-excellent new friend.

He informed me, "We've known each other for five hours."

My instincts were screaming RUN! HIDE! Amidst the feelings of suffocation and stress, like the good, well-trained man-pleasing woman I am from a generation long, long ago, I tried to second guess his intentions and his motivation. I thought about giving him excuses and blaming myself for not being more patient, understanding, and compliant. Should I be more forgiving? He's chemically sensitive, after all. Then I questioned as a reclusive, chemically sensitive person if I am the same: emotionally needy, high maintenance, demanding, and self-centered with a tendency for pathological bullshitting in hopes of manipulating someone into liking me. Is that me? Maybe? Damn, I hope not. Does he deserve my unconditionally devoted attention after five hours of talking about himself?

After lecturing him on gender roles and the archaic expectations of men in a male dominant society, I told him he was too high maintenance and he needed to find a woman who was willing to give him undivided attention. Although I didn't say this, I figured he goes to a Christian church. There must be a whole harem of subservient women there he can pick from.

He wrote eight emails in the next two hours with each email getting more hostile than the last. He whined about his inability to make a friend in the last fifteen years, then about all the losses he's had to endure as a chemical sensitive person and I have just damage him with yet another loss, then demanding a definition of friendship, then blaming society for not liking how honest he is. Am I that socially inept, manipulative and controlling? I didn't respond to him. I was afraid of what I might say.

I've been in fear the postman will give the Man my last name and my address. He might show up at my door one day. <Shiver> This is why I like being reclusive. I don't like people. Really.

Leave me alone.

I find most older male humans to be man-babies. They expect women to cater to their every need, support them unconditionally, to cook and clean for them, to shop and organize their lives. I know this is the way society has trained them as well as the effects of hormonal changes that make them mushy. The dutiful expectation for a woman is compromise, compromise, compromise. This man-baby encounter has made me ponder why my youthful self was trained to catering to the needs of men that in a society that gifts them control and power: my behavior on dates, my subservience during relationships, and my views of gender roles and marriage. I can look back now on the marriages I have witnessed and don't even wonder why I've never wanted to be "institutionalized" as Cher once referred the state of matrimony. It takes a certain kind of woman to be married. With age comes wisdom and I've pretty much discovered I'm not that kind of woman.

You'd think with feminism we would have grown out of these gender roles, but I don't think so. I met a man a couple years ago who all he wanted to do was to talk about himself and have me talk about him. He also bragged about having a whole stable of women who were catering to his every whim. I backed away from that really fast.

In addition to outdated gender roles, the older I get the more aware I've become of gender inequities. I'm watching the men in my life retire early with a bank load of money from doing menial jobs that didn't require a college education. My highly educated women friends are not retiring early. Why not?  And I've become more aware of the difference in the way society perceives and treats older men vs. women. Older men are distinguished and experienced; older women are hysterical and ugly. I supposed menopause symptoms play a role in this perception.

Last but not least, with age comes health issues. I don't want to be anyone's nurse maid. It's one thing to meet a man when one is young, grow with him, invest in a life with him, then take care of each other as the two of you grow older together, but it's completely different to meet men when they are already old, sick, and needy. I'm not finding anything attractive about it. And I cannot even imagine imposing my own health issues on another person.

I think I've become a Man Hater! Well, in reality, I've never gotten along with manipulative, controlling man-babies with entitlement issues.

Happy Stuff

I was logging into my Yahoo email and saw this on their news. If you are in need of something to smile about, here it is. I actually cried all the way through it.

http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/technology-blog/world-most-epic-marriage-proposal-225325408.html

All in the Family

I chose not to get married and have kids at a very early age because I expected I would live a single woman's life of adventure. I was told as a young girl I didn't NEED to get married because I had too much going for me. This was the most influential advice of my life and given to me by a woman in a very bad marriage. At the time I made the assumption this very sad wife must have needed to get married and I vowed I'd never be so needy.

As women, we have lived with the stigma of past social norms and traditional gender roles. Men provided and women managed the home. Women weren't expected to provide for themselves because it was thought they were incapable of independence. Although these ideas are slowly becoming outdated and archaic, so many women still marry for security rather than love.

When I became chemically sensitive, I temporarily lost my ability to support myself and I was forced to sacrifice much of my lifestyle to be healthy. It was frightening to feel so alone and vulnerable and it changed forever my perception of self-reliance and security. I now understand the feeling a woman might have to NEED to marry. How nice it would be to have a man to care for me and support me. No stress over not being able to work and pay the bills. Someone to shop for me. Someone to do home improvements and maybe a little car maintenance. I understand it now. Idealistically, I envision a house full of supportive family members lovingly adjusting their lifestyles to fit my health needs. My own built-in community! Who needs outsiders when I have a fragrance-free family? How perfect!

Well, life is rarely perfect. Some MCSers have supportive, caring relatives, but in reality most family members don't understand unless they have personal experience being chemically sensitive themselves. Relatives may (or may not!) be concerned at first and strive to assist, but after a while, the effort becomes too exhausting as they search for answers that aren't there. Eventually, they wonder if their spouse or sibling is mentally ill or making it all up. Families often express a certain entitlement to their chemically sensitive relatives. After all they have known this person all their lives so how can this be happening?  It doesn't make sense to them and the stress of constant support gets to be too much.

Many MCSers have expressed guilt. They aren't able work and they worry about not contributing. How will the family manage on a one-income household after years of double incomes? When will their husbands decide it's too much trouble? What will happen if their husbands decide to leave them? The medical bills are too expensive. The hopelessness of chronic illness is taxing. This wasn't the idea of marriage agreed upon at the wedding.

Chemically sensitive parents worry they can't be normal parents and provide a normal life for their children. They are unable to attend school events, classroom activities, parent conferences or sports events. No birthday parties. No vacations. No family reunions or holiday gatherings. No slumber parties or friends over for after school snacks. How do they shop for clothes and school supplies when they can't go near a mall? How does one keep a teenager from wearing scented products and perfumes?

Others experience their family's unsupportive, negative attitudes toward their health issues. Their grown children purposely wear scented products and accuse them of faking illness for attention. Their husbands tell them they are pretending to be sensitive only as a reason to quit a job. They assume their loved one has a secret agenda for being ill, and they are pretty sure it's to ruin their own self-centered lives.

A chemically-sensitive patient came into the medical offices where I was a medical assistant. He immediately became anaphylactic upon entering the waiting room and I escorted him out of the building back into fresh air. This was his first visit seeing this doctor who claimed to be an environmental specialist although was obviously incapable of providing a safe waiting room for his patients. In her husband's stead, the wife kept the appointment and I stood outside with him. Later I was told the wife informed the doctor she was concerned for her husband's mental health as he was afraid of leaving his house. She believed it had nothing to do with chemical sensitivity - he was making it all up so he wouldn't have to go outside. Listening only to the wife and not even meeting with the patient, the doctor diagnosed him with agoraphobia.  How betrayed the patient must have felt by his own wife's misunderstanding and lack of support.

My family members are preoccupied with self-indulgent addictions and I learned long ago expecting any kind of support is futile. Expectation breeds disappointment and that is worse than my self-imposed exile. What I don't understand is why no one else in my family is chemically sensitive? We have the same genes, same childhood, same background. I'm the only one who doesn't smoke, who doesn't drink, who doesn't do drugs, doesn't wear scented products, and who doesn't eat Hostess Twinkies for breakfast. Where did I go wrong and why are they off the hook? If I die before any of them, I guarantee I'm going to haunt them mercilessly!

Every now and then I briefly imagine what it would be like with a caring husband and loving children supporting me through tough times, but most of the time I think the dream is unrealistic. I have yet to meet a chemically sensitive person who has family support and/or doesn't feel guilt. I have enough to think about; I don't need the stress. I am thankful I live alone and I do have a lot going for me. I have control of my air space, what or who comes into the house, what I eat, how I spend my day, what I do, and most importantly, control over the detrimental attitudes I would be forced to endure from people who don't care and don't attempt to understand. And adventure is relative (pun could be intended). Being chemically sensitive is an adventure all by itself!

Who in your family is the most supportive?

Who is the least?

What is your best family story?