How long can a person take verbal abuse, over and over again, hearing the blame game, the excuses that everything is his/her fault, and finally say, “I’ve had enough!  I’m making a change in my life, no matter how much it contradicts the teachings of my youth.”?

What if the images/visions of a positive, radiant future in one’s thoughts were manifested in more than neural reality?

There’s a lot I have to consider of the past 26-30 years of my life and see if I have the energy to make significant changes for my health.

Am I really as unimportant as I try to convince myself I am?

Is it, instead, the result of years of accumulated personality bashing?

I will tell you a story…

When a man first got married, his wife would get sick (regular cold/flu type conditions), insisting that the man stay home from work to care for her.

They both had good-paying jobs.

One day, the man was called into his boss’ office and told to see the Head of Payroll.

The Head of Payroll, a “tough broad” and a “Number One Bitch,” she called herself with pride, sat the man down.

“I hear you got married a few months ago.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And since then, you’ve taken four days off, which exceeds our expected rate of sick pay per quarter per employee.  Let me ask you a straightforward question.  You don’t appear to be sick.  Are you and your wife trying to have a baby?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Is there any chance she has gotten pregnant?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well, in my 35 years of working in payroll, I can tell you what I’m seeing here.  Your wife is trying to manipulate and control you at the start of your marriage.  If you don’t put a stop to this, she’ll walk all over you for the rest of your years together.”

The man raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, I know what you’re thinking.  ‘What’s an old maid like me giving advice to a married man?’  Son, it doesn’t take a genius to know what another woman is thinking.  Half of us are man-haters by default and the other half is lying to itself.  If you don’t put your foot down now, you might as well hand your balls on a plate to your wife and have ’em locked away for good.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What are you, some kind of Boy Scout?”

“Yes, ma’am.  I am an Eagle Scout.”

“You ever been to a girlie show?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well, I just went to a male stripper show and I can tell you that the women in there were happily married women in public but hiding their sexual frustrations a’plenty.  They hooted and hollered at the strippers like they’d never seen a naked man in their life before.  Your wife ever been to one?”

“Yes, ma’am.  Once.  But she was turned off by the blatant display of male sexual aggression.”

“She was, was she?  Hmm…  Son, your problems are worse than I thought.  I’ve got to get payroll processed by this afternoon but I want to talk more to you about this.  If I can save you, I can save this office from becoming a bunch of henpecked men.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And quit being so kind to me.  You should have argued with me at least once or twice by now, defending your honour rather than letting an ol’ hag like me badger you.  We’ve got a lot of work to do!  Now, go on out of here before I get in trouble for not getting complacent employees like you your paychecks on time!  You aren’t one of those guys whose wives take their paychecks from them before they can spend a cent?!”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well, there’s hope.  Go on.  Scoot!”