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onramp year two 2002 |
Friday, Sept. 15, 2006 - 7:30 p.m. the short of it: I left Joe because he is a manipulative, controling abusive person, it just took me many years to figure it out. the long of it come in zine form. but here is the text: This little zine is for everyone who asks “ Why did you leave Joe?” This started as a letter to someone to explain my perspective and grew into therapy and a wider explanation. It is also an answer for when I stare blankly trying to gather myself to talk to people about it. I get so nervous, so scared and so ashamed that I allowed myself to stay in such an unhealthy situation. Now, I could just hand my friends this and hope that it explains enough. maybe that’s not enough. The beginning of this could read like a laundry list of grievances and you could think I’m trying to frame Joe as a big bad guy. That’s not the intent. The intent is to paint the world I was living in from my perspective, possible in hindsight. It was the world no one saw, not even me, not even Joe. It is funny to think that I was out being involved in so many projects as some sort of avoidance or escape from things really going on in my life. Things have changed a lot. I am seeing a counselor and dealing with issues of boundaries, resentment, and conflict avoidance and probalby more. This damage seem permenant. I am still working at microcosm as we are transitioning to consensus decision making. I am seeing someone new, who is actually someone old in my life. He is able to give me the care, space, and patience I need to work through things and still make me breakfast in bed or read to me when I’m working. It is summer 2006 I just turned 29. I have come a long way but I still have so much farther to go. Thanks for reading, alex wrekk P.s. Joe has read most of this. His response is that it could have been more hurtful and that he would only argue with semantics. *** So ya, I bought into the way he perceived the world around him but at the same time it was imposed upon me in subtle ways. If I didn’t do things properly I would be ridiculed. He would yell at me for not turning off lights or for letting the water run to get warm before I washed my face, spent money on something frivolous or took the train instead of riding my bike. Cause you see, his reasoning was noble because conservation of resources was the right thing to do, god forbid I buy something at full price or buy a winter hat at Walgreens on the way home from work. It felt like he was using my own politics against me. It’s the little things that got to me. It’s also the little things that broke me down and I didn’t even realize what I was giving up, these pieces of me that I was devoting to someone else’s cause. When Joe, verbally or non-verbally, held the moral high ground how could I resist with out feeling wrong in that worldview? But still, parts of me resisted, parts of me still knew it wasn’t right. When I resisted he called me stubborn and said that the reason I was stubborn was because I was insecure. He pushed and pushed about me being the insecure one…until it was true. He made fun of me using the Internet as a means of communicating with my friends and even made a game out of making me think that there was someone reading my online journal feeding him information. I was feeling more and more isolated and I withdrew into myself. He got angry with what and how I would tell people things about our life or work, eventually I felt so paranoid that I just quit going out and quit talking to people. I actually recall reading in my notebook where I once wrote something about how “being silent” was probably best for our relationship. How fucked up is that? Somehow I let Joe set the parameters for everything in our relationship. He definitely made an impression on me. His desire and convenience became what was acceptable, even righteous. Before I met Joe I was really into craft beer. I loved all styles, the history and the process. Joe didn’t care about beer. He drank malt liquor or other crap alcohol. In 2000 he went on tour and stopped drinking because of the social aspect that surrounded it. I felt like he equated me drinking with that even though my values and ethics about alcohol were quite strict. My standards about beer mirrored my standards about most things I spent money on. I never drank corporate beer and I always tried to support local breweries. He treated me like I was drinking a forty when I got excited about an $8 bottle of Belgian ale. For a long time it was all the same to him. If I went out drinking I would have to come home, take a shower, wash my hair and brush my teeth before I climbed into to bed. And still he would say I stink and smell like alcohol. He would sleep on the totally opposite side of the bed or ask me to sleep on the couch. It got to the point where I hardly did something I really enjoyed because I didn’t want to deal with his treatment of me no matter how hard I tried to change the things he had problems with. Joe also had a problem with feeling ok issuing ultimatums. It was his way of putting the foot down. The phrase “if you don’t do/stop (fill in the blank) then I can’t be with you.” was uttered quite frequently. The thing is that I was never allowed to have that sort of power. My boundaries were continually crossed or blatantly ignored. I didn’t feel right to make ultimatums because I didn’t think they were healthy but I also feared that they wouldn’t be respected, for the most part they weren’t. If something bothered me then too bad. Joe would argue and argue with me for hours at night until I had no idea what we were arguing about. I would give up and concede because I was so tired. He would insult my way of thinking and tell me that I was crazy and that I didn’t make any sense. If I would tell him something honestly and make myself more vulnerable that usually he would tuck that piece of information away to be used against me later, and that was another reason silence seemed safer. He would verbally manipulate the things I said until they meant something so completely different that I didn’t recognize the words as mine. Arguments would leave me confused, searching for words, isolated and feeling like I was backed into a wall because I was unable to debate or navigate language the way that he was able to. If I did not ask the proper question with the proper set of words in the right order he would withhold information from me, even when he knew exactly what I wanted to know. Our arguments got heated ad my sister, after hearing us argue actually asked me if Joe ever physically hurt me. For the record, he never did. If I was crying because I was hurt or frustrated he would physically move away from me and withhold affection until I behaved properly. Love seemed all about conditions to him. I had to fit the form to receive attention and affection. Joe continually put work before our relationship. He was so idealistic that it felt like everything else in the world was more important than my feelings and me. I would have to practically beg him to come away from the computer some nights or plead for him to take some time off to spend it with me. It really frustrating and insulting now to see him taking time off for other people when he wouldn’t do it for me. I would try to gain his attention by making him food or working on projects with him to try to be a part of his world because he wouldn’t make the effort to be part of mine. I tried to use language like him. I thought it might make him respect me more if I was more logical, more mechanical, more robotic, more like him. But it really just made me more invisible. I wasn’t myself anymore. I was desperately trying to be what he wanted me to be and it was never good enough. I was always trying and failing and disappointing Joe. So why did I stay? I was caught up in his world. I believed in it. At this point, if I didn’t, I would have nothing. Joe’s support for my creative endeavors was limited to his ability to socialize (something I had lost) and contribute to financially (i.e.: getting my zine or book printed) rarely did he tell me that he appreciated the things I created. Once, for an art show I made a 4”x4” square to be hung on a giant wall of over 500 other 4” squares with lots of other Portland artists. Joe knew the curator, I made the art, Joe did the hand off. When the show was over the person asked if he could have the art for a traveling exhibit. Joe told him yes with out even asking me. He didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with giving away my art and refused to get it back. Apparently he saw the err in his ways last year and he actually got it back last summer, 4 years too late. I guess maybe those aren’t the only ways he supported my ideas. He frequently has taken my ideas and ran with them, occasionally crediting me. I came up with the concept and titles of many of his movies and projects. It was a lot easier to see him use my ideas when we were together or if I was contributing to it, it made me feel close to him, but when I see other people working on ideas that came from my head I feel really hurt. The worst part is that when I bring it up to him he twists it to mean that I want “intellectual property” of the ideas. That’s not it at all. I just want respect and input for something I had a hand in, I don’t want to own it. There is also a strange converse to this. There were many many many times where I had ideas or concerns about work, the house we owned or even our relationship. I had ways to make things run smoother or just new ideas. I would tell them to Joe and he would refuse saying they were bad ideas or unrealistic even stupid. I would watch time and time again as someone else would suggest the very same thing and see him think it was a great idea and implement it. It was really frustrating to watch other people with the same ideas be respected but I wasn’t. In 2003 Joe hired Zach, someone I had never met and had no input in hiring. Later Zach and I became good friends. He told me that when he started working at microcosm he was really disgusted at how Joe treated me. He saw the power struggle and the imbalance. It was one of the first clues that I wasn’t crazy and that all of the things I had been feeling we not just “in my head” as Joe kept telling me. Zach became a really awesome ally. We would talk and come up with ways for him to pass along my ideas to Joe for approval. Looking back, I can’t believe how fucked up it was that I had to do that to be heard by someone who was supposed to be my partner. Zach was really there for me as I was crawling out from under this pile that I was pretty much oblivious to what had been building up due to the severely fucked up power system in our relationship and I am so very grateful for that. Right now I’m going to stop and say that I honestly believe Joe was not always conscious of his behaviors and agendas. He truly thought that his way was the right path for him and those close to him. He maintained a power structure with him on top not out of malice, but because he saw no other path, but also because the people around him gave him that power. He logically deduced that his view made most sense and proceeded to live his life accordingly. I don’t think he thought of whittling me away to create a more perfect form, I think he merely thought he was leading me down a better path. Joe is a very intelligent and ambitious man, and that is what makes him very very dangerous. People are drawn to that sort of strength, It is a privilege. I watch people fall over him giving him things and doing him favors for no real reason. He always receives special treatment from people at the bike shop to dealing with the media. I never understood why. He exudes this sense of humble confidence and he is not afraid to ask people to do favors for him but is unable to see when they are made uncomfortable by it. He seems to think that it is up to others to decide how they treat him without a thought to the privilege that he already possesses. He doesn’t seem to grasp the responsibility that this privilege calls for. This is the only way in his adult life he has ever lived. I understand Joe was an abused child. I think that was one of the reasons I wanted to cater to him, to give him the love his family never did. About 2 years into our relationship I said “wow Joe, your mom really is a control freak.” It has never even crossed his mind…then again, at the time, I could identify it in his mother, but not in him. The small things he needed control over. I had a mother who would just do what she wanted with the house. If she felt like painting when my dad was out of town, she would and he would be cool with it. Joe, on the other hand, had to be involved in those sorts of decisions even if he didn’t really care about them. I remember so many arguments ensued with how to do anything with the house that in the end I gave up trying to decorate my home in a way I would feel comfortable. He got angry that my mom bought us a couch cover and he didn’t get to pick out the color. He had such little respect for me and my choices that one time he was eating ice cream on the couch and spilled some on the cover. Then he started to just rub it into the fabric. I asked him to go get a towel and clean it up. His response was “why do we have to have nice things?” It became pointless to even try to make or do things with the house if my efforts weren’t appreciated or respected and sometimes, they were even criticized. Joe’s sense of aesthetics were so completely different than mine that I almost wouldn’t call them that. He was more interested in just hammering nail into things and start lots of projects than actually having them done right. He preferred to do things himself even when he didn’t have the proper grasp of the task at hand causing so many of the house projects to fail or turn out half assed. One thing I really value in people is loyalty, friends who will stand by you in hard times, people who can listen to your grievances and keep it to themselves, friends will respect your request in times of need. Joe doesn’t seem to get that. An example was when I was in a band and he would baby sit for one of the people in the band when we went to practice and other times. When I was kicked out of the band because I was traveling and didn’t make it back to a show that I didn’t know we had, he saw no problem with continuing to baby sit while they went to practice and I stayed home. I was no longer friends with these people and he couldn’t understand why I was upset or why I might not want him to baby sit while I sat at home and they practiced. Another example, two summers ago I was at a party and this guy, Phil was drunk and trying to fix a bike flat. I watched him place a patch and attempt to pump the tire 3 times. So I offered my help. I was working on his tire when a bunch of guys started making fun of him for having a girl fix his bike. He responded about how it was hott to watch girls fix bikes. Within a few seconds they had surrounded me and were hooting and laughing and Phil was pretending to have video camera and was talking about making porn with girls working on bikes as he went in for close-ups of me working. It went from him being made fun of to me being objectified. I just gave up and told them all they were a bunch of fucking clichés and left. As I was walking away I heard “see you in a porn film soon” Now, this Phil guy, Joe refers to as his “mentor,” he is a fucking ass that gets kicked out of parties for being a misogynist. Joe continues to be friends with him even though I have expressed my uncomfort with him. About two months before I moved out I came home to Phil in my house. I was really really uncomfortable. I told Joe this. I thought that if I used his language by just telling him that I was uncomfortable with something that he would respect my feelings, after all, that is what I have been expected to do for him. He sort of just ignored me. About a half hour later we met in the kitchen and I said that I thought I had told him I was uncomfortable with someone who had sexually harassed me being welcome into my home. He said something about Phil going out of his way to do a favor for him, blah blah blah. The point is that my feelings and boundaries are arbitrary to his desires and he refused to see the power he continues to hold or how disrespectful it is to me. All of these problems were growing in my mind but I didn’t really have anyone to talk to because I had shut everyone out. I made our relationship seem so perfectly DIY punk when I was dying inside. I was a ghost. We were laying in bed one night at the end of 2003 or the beginning of 2004 and I said “I’m not happy.” And verbalizing it was like a light going on. Joe quizzed me as to why and I said that I felt confined and boxed in. which led to him saying ‘how do you feel about open relationships” which, I guess could have worked in hindsight if I had felt respected and equal to him, but I wasn’t, I didn’t feel that way. What we needed was counseling, and we had tried but we didn’t work well with the first one so we gave up. I knew something was severely wrong with our relationship, the few friends I had left knew something was wrong. My sister knew something was wrong, but none of us wanted to put our finger on it because of this façade Joe and I had created. So we attempted an open relationship thing and it was rocky butactually pretty good for us. I got out of the house and met new people and was learning how to live again and not feel so cnfined. Joe and I were learning to communicate in a new way but something still didn’t seem right. I felt like any of the problems were being blamed on me. And I believed him when he told me that I was selfish and stubborn and I needed to pay more attention to his feelings and I was feeling guilty for minor infraction because I wasn’t treating him right. Then came my trip to Utah in the spring of 2004. I was going to visit friends and do research about non Mormon radical history. What I found by accident was Paul, my ex, still in love with me. My heart was tugging at me to recognize not only that I was still in love with him, but that I didn’t have to be in a relationship where I felt confined and ridiculed. I tried to ignore it my feelings. I tried to do what Joe wanted me to. I tried to behave and fit the mold that I had made for myself and distance myself from Paul, but it just made me more miserable. Paul kept his distance. He told me that he loved me and that meant that he wants me to be happy even if that means that I’m not with him. He wanted to see me go on and do great things and live my life. He told me that I should honor my relationship with Joe because I had created a world with him. And really, that’s love, not being given ultimatums or chastised like a disobeying child when I did something that displeased Joe. Paul was a catalyst in realizing that there is more out there and that there were some serious problems in my relationship with Joe that needed to be addressed. Still, I believed in Joe’s world. Some people say that we get the love we think we deserve. Maybe I thought I deserved the world Joe and I had created and I believed it was righteous and worthwhile but all of the problems I have written here and more kept popping up and becoming so much more obvious. I kept asking myself “how can I be with this person who maintains such control over me? This isn’t love. This is a prison.” Joe tried to grasp a hold of anything he could in any way he could when he felt like he was losing me. He used my own words against me. Years before all of this he had badgered me to let him read my old notebooks so, he said, he could understand who I was and where I came from. After months of pestering and me explaining how personal my notebooks were to me I finally gave in. I told him he could read them but don’t let me know about it and don’t ask me anything about what I wrote. That was probably 3 years before any of this. One night I left my notebook in the office while I was on the phone with Paul. Joe read the whole thing, all of my back and forth and frustration, all of my venting and love for both of these men. It was such a violation. It was such a manipulation of my trust and my own words that was not what I intended when I gave him permission and he knew it. When I got off the phone Joe interrogated me about what I meant by things I wrote, he was intent that I was going to leave him. I had no intention of leaving at the time. I was just trying to process all the confusing things going on. From then on my relationship towards my notebooks has never been the same. I felt paranoid that he would read anything I wrote and take my writing, just as he took my words, out of context and manipulate them and use them against me. My notebooks had been my solace and comfort for my thoughts for years and after that I pretty much quit writing for a long time and that is one of the reasons I haven’t put out a zine for so long. My recent notebooks are these sad spines of creatures with pages ripped that were turned into letters or lists that never really went anywhere. So, Joe and I started seeing a counselor for real at Joe’s request. I had my reservations at first. I felt like Joe was putting all the blame for problems on me and wanted me to go see someone so they could just confirm everything he was already saying. It didn’t really work out that way and it seemed that Joe became really frustrated with our counselor. If I was struggling for words Joe would speak for me in sessions some times so she asked if he did that at other times, and I realized that he did. She would ask him pointed questions about his behavior or his use of power and he would scramble for an answer. It was probably the first time I really saw him squirm and really look at his behaviors objectively. For me, it really helped me to see some of the imbalances and attempt to rectify them. It helped me be able to speak up and give names to things I had been identifying for so long. Most of what we talked about had to do with work and how I was struggling to gain more respect and responsibility, but the talking about work was a mask for what was really going on. Our problems at work were a reflection of the power imbalance and communication problems in our relationship. One of my tasks was to set boundaries and ask for them to be respected. Something I am still working on to this day and I like to think that helped Joe see how he wields power and helped things change a bit. But I still saw those same controlling tendencies in Joe. Parts of me think it is in his very nature to control situations through verbal and non-verbal manipulation, I don’t even think he is aware of it most of the time. Joe went on tour in the autumn of 2004. We had many late night argument phone calls all across the country. I was stressed out and trying to run the distro pretty much by myself, but in a way, that independence was what I needed to know what I was capable of, and I did a damn fin job. After he got back from tour in November I told him I was moving out. I’d had enough of trying to fit into a box for him. I had grown. This wasn’t about Paul or Joe any more, this was about me, and what I need and my personal growth. I had a three month sublet and after that, I’d see where things ended up. I think me moving out is what really made Joe stop and think about how he behaved. One day after he got back I was heading out of work to hang out with someone and he asked me if I wanted to go to a movie and he broke down crying saying that he just didn’t want me to think he was boring. This lead to a lengthy conversation in the liberty hall basement. At one point we were sitting on a couch and he knocked on the tip of my boot and said “you are so capable. You don’t need me.” It was like some sort of revelation that that he understood that I really was as strong as I thought I was, that he can’t keep me in a position of needing him, that I was capable of being independent and myself again. I responded with “and I never did” That is the point where I think Joe really started to change because he finally saw me differently. That was December of 2004. We worked on things and I waffled back and forth. Eventually I moved back in when my sublet was up in March. I did a lot of traveling and expressed to Joe that I still wasn’t completely comfortable with him or moving back into the house. He swore that he would try to make it as comfortable as he could for me. I got my own room in the basement and we moved our bed into a new room on the first floor taking turns sleeping in one then the other. We didn’t argue for a whole month! It felt like a new start. He made a lot of progress but he still frightened me. We still had fights at night that lasted for hours of me crying but they were less frequent. I still made almost weekly phone calls to Paul that were usually mundane “what’s going on in your life?” type calls. I was having a hard time with Joe changing. I kept seeing him slip and it was so triggering that I’d find myself right back in the place I was before, defending myself against an impossible dragon. I know that a lot of it was in my head and that my behavior was probably just a triggering. It was very had to try to adjust to each other after a six year dynamic. He made progress but he still pushed me and I was starting to push back. He made promises to release his power promising me that he would put my name on the house title and the business license but he never did. The day I decided to leave for good was when we were discussing the 2005 zine symposium. We always fought during the zine symposium weekend without fail. We were having a fight about how to support each other so that we wouldn’t fight, how fucked up is that? I told him what I needed, trying to set my boundaries, but he seemed to think it was unreasonable to actually sit behind the table and not go wandering around talking to people all the time and leave me there like he usually did at events. Then he just tore into me about how I just sit there at events and started talking about the AMC in particular, an event over my birthday that I had ridden my bike 30 miles to get there and ended up sicker than I have been in years. I couldn’t speak or breath, my throat felt like fire and I was on so many cold medications that the conversations I had didn’t make any sense. It was a low blow. But still, he proceeded to lash into me about how I didn’t do any work when I was there. It was extremely insulting and manipulative and at that point I decided that I would be my own support all weekend and I calmly, with out tears, told him “ Do you know you just lost me there?” and asked him to leave my room. To me it is just indicative of how Joe deals with situations when it comes down to it. If he doesn’t get his way he resorts to being verbally abusive or distracts from what is really the issue and he knows just how to push my buttons. Maybe that is just how he deals with me but it hard not to see it as an imperative after years of being subjected to it. This may just be my perspective but I have heard him talk shit and be hyper critical about even his closest friends, telling me what is wrong with their life and what they should be doing. so I can only guess the things he has said about me. But that’s the thing. I don’t trust they way Joe uses language, I can’t trust it because it has been used against me so frequently. We can hear the exact same story from some one and if you take us into separate rooms and ask us what we heard you would probably get different answers. I’m willing to say that neither of us are “right” but I feel like I doubt myself and question things a lot more than Joe does, unfortunately most women do. To this day I still have Joe’s voice in the back if my head asking if the box I packed is really good enough or chastising me for the refrigerator being open in a house he doesn’t even live in or why I have to spend money on something he would think was stupid. It is frustrating and difficult to get over this conditioning after six years. One of the worst parts is that I don’t know why I still want him in my life. Is it some sort of Stockholm syndrome or is it that I genuinely enjoy him as a person? I’m seeing a counselor now and one day she asked me “why would you expect Joe to respect you?” or something like that maybe it was “what incentive does Joe have to respect you?” my answer was our work…but I’m not so sure. Another answer would be guilt or that he owes it to me, and I know that doesn’t sound fair but at least that is what he says to me…at least that’s what I get out of what he says. He tells me that he accepts that he was a controlling manipulative, disrespectful person to me for many years and that he is working on himself. I see this in way. But he still continues to cross my expressed boundaries and it makes it really hard. He says that he doesn’t want to go through his life hating himself for how he treated me. I can completely understand that but, I also feel that learning how to treat me with respect doesn’t stop with me, it carries into the rest of his life. So now, over 2 years since that trip to Utah, I am living with Paul in Portland. We have an apartment in am old pink Victorian house, ironically it's next door to the place Joe and I were married. I try to keep a sense of humor about things. I live in a place where I can decorate or drink a beer when I get home from work without fear. My life is much different now but Joe’s behaviors still get to me and can be very triggering at times. Joe and I still work together which can be hard. The more time we spend apart, the more our visions move away from each other and I feel guilty for the others at work that get caught in the middle. But we are moving toward collective decision making, which making the burden of decent less on me. It becomes less me against Joe and more about what is good for microcosm. Even though no one else we work with is as dedicated to the project as we are, they never will be if we can’t learn to give up power and respect them. joe has been at it for 10 years and I have been involved for the last 7. In a way, it is like our child we have watched grow over the years. I want to think that we can work through this. I still have hope. Sometimes all this newness and change just hits me like waking up from a dream. I become hyper aware of my new life. I started crying the other day when I noticed that Paul had refilled the saltshaker, me on the floor crying because of a refilled saltshaker. I was crying on a floor that gets mopped in a house with a toilet cleaned by a man I live with, who doesn’t have to be asked to do these or other things around our home. Joe never did any of those sorts of small tasks. His head was always on the next prize the next goal and never in the present. It is really amazing that he has gotten as far as he has with such an inability to function. His dedication to his causes has lost him his health and his marriage and it is really hard not to say he doesn’t deserver it a little bit. I’m not used to a man that can take care of him self, I was used to being treated like either a child or a mother and not a partner. The worst part was that was the only way I could think for him to appreciate me. I am by no means any angel but this is my worldview where I spent many years in self-defense mode. I have done some hurtful things to Joe and even some of his friends as well, and I feel bad that very few of them I regret. Sometimes I feel like a sort of animal being reintroduced into the wild, except that I’m learning to live like a human again. I feel really paranoid socially due to my lack of it for years. There is this strange dichotomy between Joe and I socially, He is often seen as a friendly outgoing person who talks to everybody and seems nice. In the public I get seen as a jerk who doesn’t talk and keeps to myself because I don’t know what to say most of the time. I work much better on paper when trying to sort out my thoughts and that is why I had to write this. This was an exercise in analysis and processing for me. It was difficult to go though a 6 year period of my life and really look at events in a new perspective. I’m not really sure what it all means. I’m working on a less Joe-centered and more me and Paul-centered romantic type zine. I’ve started counseling to deal with all this. I have a lot issues with resentment and feeling disrespected that are really holding me back as a person. I hope to work through these issues so that I can learn to relate to Joe and work and the rest of the world in a new, healthier way. So I guess that’s about it. This is a really limited zine for pen pals and friends and I hope it explains some of my despondence over the past while. Thank you for reading and if you have any comments you can send them to my new address at: Alex Wrekk
BUY A COPY OF THE STOLEN SHARPIE REVOLUTIONG BOOK FOR $5 POSTAGE PAID />microcosm is turning 10! - why I left Joe Biel
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