Feeling Worthless & Random Thoughts

My day began with getting woken up by my cat and not actually getting back to sleep, so I’m not exactly feeling good physically. It got worse when I got up and learned I’d been locked out of my Facebook account that I’ve had since 2013. I had jokingly changed my name about a month or so ago, but Facebook wouldn’t allow me to change it back for 90 days. I suppose someone reported me as a fake account, even though I run my biz pages from that account, have things for sale on that account, have my phone number associated with my account, have used credit cards for business on that account, and god knows what else they have that I’m not even aware of. They have more than enough of my personal information to prove I’m not a fake account. I also cannot access messenger, which is the only way I know to keep in touch with some people. Who knows what else I can’t access, because everything is connected to this POS network. Now Facebook wants me to send them my government ID to prove who I am, as if I’m going to send my sensitive information to some random person Facebook hired for $10/hr. I told them to fuck off. I may have to create an actual fake account in order to use it, but that seems like a lot of work for a platform I already despise.

I haven’t heard a word from my male friend, and as of yesterday, he still had me blocked on Facebook. Not that he was keeping in touch with me prior to that anyway. I’m just leaving him alone and not saying a word. I’ll just be as silent as he is. I just wish I could afford to pay someone else to fix my car, because I don’t even want to deal with bothering him again.

My new male friend/acquaintance seems to only text me when he’s drinking. There’s a sign to stay away. Last night he sent me a text inviting me over to “take a spin” in his jacuzzi. Take a spin? Really? I ignored him. Jacuzzis are gross anyway, and I will definitely not be joining him in one. Now he’s texting me about what kind of camera should he buy because he wants me to teach him photography. I jokingly said I charge $25/hr, but I should have said $100, because dealing with him costs me my sanity. I need to come up with a nickname for him, something fitting.

I feel no love. Seriously. None, except from my cat. I attempt to surround myself with things that make me feel better, but everything is only temporary. I want to be loved, to be wanted, to be appreciated… and not just for superficial bullshit… not for buying expensive Christmas gifts, not for acting up to someone else’s standards, not for giving a good blowjob. I guess that’s why cats are great. Fuck, at this point, I’d be happy befriending a ghost. If he wasn’t friendly, I’d cuss him out and sage the shit out of him.

I’m feeling terrible again. Maybe I’m low on B-12, but I’m out of syringes and keep forgetting to go to the store to get them. When I ask the pharmacist and say what it’s for, they still look at me like I’m a crackhead, even though I’m too fat to be one. I really, really need a massage. I know it would make me feel better for at least a day or two, which is more than I’ve felt in a while.

I’m constantly worried. I worry about how I will manage to pay rent each month. It’s not even high rent, and it’s relatively low (knock on wood) for my area, but my income has changed due to health issues. Then I worry if the only income I have will suddenly end and I’ll be homeless. This is another reason I’ve been so very anxious to get my car fixed, because it could be my next home.

No matter how hard I try different things, like changing routines and cutting alcohol, I am still depressed and feel worthless. So then I’ll have a few drinks, which lets my guard down and makes me actually talk to people I would normally not speak to. But they don’t know that, because then when I see them somewhere else, I may not be as friendly, and then they think I’m a snob. Not my intention.

I don’t like fake attention. I don’t like when strange men come up to me in a grocery store and give me compliments about my looks. It makes me feel weird, like a target, especially coming from men that should probably keep to themselves anyway and would probably fuck anything in a skirt if given the chance. It would be different coming from a man that I like and respect, but I prefer to be liked and complimented for how I am as a person.

Everything is just an illusion, but seeing people out together and seemingly happy makes me feel like an even bigger loser for being alone and depressed. Some of them are faking their happiness and showing off for people; they have someone to impress. I see that. But that doesn’t make me feel any better or… un-alone, because there is no antonym for alone. Disconnected might describe it. I’m not out to impress anyone. Fuck that. Like me as I am or fuck off.

I always feel alone, even in most company. It’s the worst feeling in the world. When I am in company and feel this way, I tend to just get up and leave, because I can’t take it, and I’m not going to subject myself to torture. As an introvert, it’s total hell. Someone I had a beer with recently ruined my somewhat content mood, and I became annoyed, because she was being super aggressive and opinionated in a conversation, discussing topics I don’t care to discuss, especially when I’m already feeling bad. I’m sure that wasn’t her intention; it’s just her nature. I was relieved when she left me back to being alone.

I’m not sure there’s a cure for depression in my case. My VA counselor thinks that I’m just one of those people that is naturally/normally depressed. I don’t think it’s normal at all. I have never thought of myself that way, as I’ve always yearned for happiness. We all want happiness. What if I had all of the things listed that I’ve researched and written about (eating alone, sex, touch) that might help with depression? Would I still be depressed?

Eye in the Sky – A Sign from the Universe?

This morning I awoke from a dream, and the only thing I can remember is it had to do with the band The Alan Parsons Project. Having no idea why I would dream about a band that I vaguely know, the first song that popped into my head was their 80s hit “Eye in the Sky.” Being a believer in dreams and signs, I knew that this was the universe telling me something I needed to know… except attempting to decipher exactly what it could be is tricky.

The only lyrics besides the chorus that I instantly remembered were “Don’t say words you’re gonna regret,” and after that I wasn’t sure what the words were, but they are, “Don’t let the fire rush to your head.” Immediately, I could only think of the situation with my male friend, because I was angry with him for blocking me on Facebook and denying it, along with other issues, and I let him know it. It still bothers me not knowing the truth about this, because if my friend lied to me about something this stupid, what else has he lied to me about?

The rest of the lyrics suggest gambling and the ending of a relationship. Perhaps it had something to do with relationships being a gamble, since most do not last. I am still upset over the ending of the friendship we once had, because he is the only person I’ve become close to in over two years and spent a lot of time with over the past several months. Last night I ordered takeout, and when I remembered the last time I’d eaten food from this place, it was with my friend, and I became upset all over again.

But is that what the dream message was really about? Being that the band’s album cover depicts the Eye of Horus, perhaps the lyrics to the song has to do with the “eye in the sky,” a symbol of protection and good health and possibly the third eye. Getting upset and angry certainly doesn’t help with health matters, and I am doing my best not to obsess to find answers and the truth, hoping that it will work itself out eventually. One of the problems I have is that I “have” to find out the truth, so it really does bother me when I don’t know. It may take years, but the truth eventually does come out. It just sucks having to wait, because I feel that it would speed up the healing process.

Blocked Again

Some days can just kiss my ass, and Monday was one of them.

Monday turned out to be one of those days in which I couldn’t wait to go back to sleep, because I did not want to face reality. Going to sleep super early the night before and waking up in the middle of the night pretty much screwed up my Monday morning, and when I got up I texted my close male friend that still hadn’t replied to me about what was going on with him. I went about my morning, intending to attend yoga, but I ended up being too upset to bother leaving the house.

Here’s a recap of the original text I sent to my friend the night before: “Look, I don’t know if you’re seeing somebody or something but you don’t even say hi to me anymore unless I initiate the conversation. I haven’t seen you literally since last year. I know you’re busy and all but I feel like something has changed between us. I almost feel like I’m bothering you by even asking you anything.” Nothing but crickets, which is very unusual… so on Monday morning I said, “Well alrighty then…” And that’s when he finally responded.

I was right – he’d “met someone recently and was going to tell” me. I guess it took me directly asking the question instead of attempting to communicate and getting excuses. It certainly explains all of the avoidance and standoffishness after I told him I wasn’t going to have sex with someone that is emotionally unavailable and too busy to hang out, because I’m not looking for a fuck buddy. I felt hurt knowing that someone I’d developed such a close friendship with blew me off with excuses but found time to date someone. Just be up front, you know? That doesn’t make it okay to avoid me and treat me like I’m an ex. I felt I lost a friend, because I know our friendship will never be the same again. I feel sad about it, and I suspect I’ll go through somewhat of a mourning period. Again. FFS.

Later on that day, even though we weren’t friends on Facebook, my male friend’s profile had come up as “people you might know.” I viewed his profile and summed up who I’m certain he’s dating.  Later that evening, my friend’s Facebook profile had blocked mine, and I had no idea why. I confronted him about it, because why did he feel the need to do such a thing if we’re still friends… and I’d never mentioned it to him… and his posts were public… He swears he never blocked me, but he hasn’t unblocked me, and unless someone else did it, he’s lying to me. Then I spent some time obsessing over it, thinking maybe one of his friends or the chick he’s dating did it. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem concerned whatsoever.

Then… he revealed this: He wanted more but I didn’t. Say what??? This was never a topic of discussion. Maybe a topic was “what is this?” to which I replied, “we are friends,” because like I said, a relationship doesn’t work when either party is emotionally unavailable. Nor does it work when someone is “too busy” to spend quality time together. He said he still wants to remain friends, and he agreed to fix my car as promised. I just wished he’d done it prior to this, because now everything feels awkward. Why the hell can’t men get their shit together before creating more problems and awkwardness?

I became angry again about being blocked on Facebook, and I told him so, because what did I do to deserve that? And why aren’t we friends on Facebook anyway? It’s obvious he’s annoyed with my questioning, which doesn’t surprise me, since men block, ignore, gaslight, and/or get angry when they get questioned or called out on their shit.

So what now? Is my very trusted friend lying to me? It doesn’t give me a good feeling at all, especially after having been blocked and ghosted by OC, and I feel triggered all over again again. Speaking of OC…

I decided to block OC’s Instagram account from viewing or liking any of mine nevermore. I wasn’t expecting to see a new photo of him and his girlfriend posted (that oddly, his wife “liked”). I knew I was doing the right thing by blocking this asshole, because I no longer want to question why he’s liking my posts or why he ghosted me for no reason or to see his stupid face – nevermore!

25 Years Ago – A Child’s Point of View on Space Shuttle Challenger

34 years ago today…

Free the Burden

Told from a child’s point of view, this is what happened 25 years ago on the day the Space Shuttle Challenger blew up:

It is a chilly, but sunny afternoon. After gym class I head to history. I hear an annoying boy named John yelling in the courtyard.

“The space shuttle blew up!”

He points to the sky at a puffy looking cloud in the air. John is known to say and do things for attention, so I don’t believe him.

“Shut up!” I say. “That’s just a cloud.”

“No, I swear!” he says.

John isn’t lying. I arrive to history class. Our teacher, Mrs. Still, has the television on and announces that the Space Shuttle Challenger has exploded into the sky, killing all seven astronauts, including the first teacher in space. I have never seen a teacher cry until I see Mrs. Still. The entire class sits in awe…

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Touch Starvation & Depression

Something I was reading about that makes total sense to me is that “touch starvation” can lead to depression, and I fit the category 110%. Affectionate human touch is essential to connecting with others, as it stimulates oxytocin, the love hormone that reduces stress and pain, helps with emotional well-being, and naturally increases overall physical health. An article from Psychology Today reports that “Lack of physical affection can actually kill babies.”

So if touch starvation can kill infants, what does it do to adults? Studies have shown adults that lack affectionate touch are inclined to be more depressed, have anxiety issues, are lonelier, and have an increased chance of developing Alzheimer’s. Somehow deep inside, I know all of these things, because I can feel it. Sometimes I feel that I’m fucked, and I will probably die at an early age. And to drive the anxiety level up, my fear is to die alone, like one of those people found weeks later with her cats gnawing at her dead body.

I come from a family that didn’t hug much or showed very little physical affection towards each other, so I’ve never been a touchy-feely type of person unless I’m in love. I recall being forced to hug strangers in church when I was a kid, and I absolutely despised it to the point it sometimes made me sick to my stomach. For all I knew, I was hugging some pedophile hiding under the guise of being a godly person. Since I also feel people’s energy, hugging those with bad or “off” energy doesn’t work for me, as I tend to “catch and carry” whatever it is they have. I have experienced my fair share of “bad” touch, which is an entirely different topic, but I wonder if it makes a person unresponsive to any sort of touch?

Experience has taught me that invited touch (i.e. cuddles, massage) from the opposite sex often leads to unwanted and uninvited touch or forces me to do something I’m not ready for, another double-edged sword that can screw up a person’s mind and make them fearful of intimate physical touch. It takes me a while to fully trust in someone, but at the same time, I have also gone full force too soon trusting those that ultimately hurt me. When I meet someone that can respect my boundaries, that’s when the trust begins. As soon as someone breaks trust in any way (physical or emotional), their touch repulses me, and it never comes back, which brings me to this:

A few male friends have almost crossed boundaries, which makes me not want to hang out with them anymore. Usually, drinking is involved, and when I am just friends with someone that has a few drinks and suddenly finds his hand touching my knee uninvitedly or arm around the back of my chair in public as if we’re a couple, it turns me off. My body language is very clear about what I invite into my space, so if I want a man, he will know it. When I don’t, my body language will say it, but I have to realize a lot of people don’t know how to read body language.

The other evening when I had sushi with a new male friend/acquaintance, I was not turned towards him or gave him any indication I was interested in anything more than friendship and conversation; however, towards the end he ended up sitting closer to me as if we were on a date, and his body language said the opposite of what I wanted. Just because a man pays for my meal and a couple of drinks doesn’t give him the right to disrespect my physical space and boundaries. If my female friends paid the tab, they wouldn’t try to make out with me, so why do men think it’s okay? It’s NOT.

On the opposite spectrum, my ex was super needy and touchy-feely to the point that I felt suffocated. Too much touch is just that – too much. I’m not the type of person that can give another person that much attention; otherwise, I’d have had more children. A healthy balance is nice, and it’s what I had with OC, and I haven’t experienced that since.

Being an introvert probably doesn’t help with my situation, because I expose myself to far less people than an extrovert would. Massages help tremendously when I can afford to have one, and I notice a huge difference in how I feel afterwards, not just physically but mentally. Sometimes it’s the only human touch I get for months. How pathetic that I have to pay for it. At least I have a cat, because touching pets does help, plus he has great unconditional loving energy. However, I truly miss being cuddled by a human, especially on cold or rainy nights. No wonder I’m a fucked up, depressed mess. Maybe I should get more cats.

Cutting Back on Alcohol

A few weeks or so ago, I’d written about changing some things in my life. Today is Day 20 of no drinking/cutting back on alcohol. It was something I intended to do, but the losing my shit incident was a catalyst.

I started out being on antibiotics, which was a great way to begin my not-drinking voyage. I have to admit the first few days were tough, because I’d been working outside in the heat, and beer sounded great, but I knew the medication would have made me sick anyway.

Once I got through the first week, it wasn’t so bad. I started keeping myself busy working out or taking walks in the evenings. I went grocery shopping and ran errands during the times I would normally have gone to happy hour. It probably helped that I didn’t exactly have the money to be going out.

Week two was a success, however, I thought I would feel better. I haven’t felt that much better except that I didn’t have hangovers. I was tired, but in a different way; I felt exhausted. My appetite began to change, and I was cooking again, and I had more motivation mentally and could think clearer. Still, I had no energy for the most part (could very well have been due to the antibiotics). The weather brought on some allergy issues, and it felt as if fibromyalgia was full-blown for a few days. My body was super achy from head to toe, and I remembered that when I drank beer, the aches would disappear. I did notice anxiety went down a little while I wasn’t drinking, maybe because I was just exhausted. My mood was only slightly lifted, but I was still feeling depressed. Perhaps it was lack of human contact or something else, but I was craving not being depressed, which is part of the reason I quit/cut back on drinking.

On Day 15, the weather was pretty bad. I had one beer in the fridge (one that I normally wouldn’t drink, because it would have been gone by now) that I drank and didn’t really care for it. The following day (16), I met up with some friends that are getting married soon to discuss some things about their wedding that I’m shooting. It was nice getting out of the house for once and home by 10:30. I had three beers in two and a half hours, felt high as a kite, and felt like shit the entire next day. Two of the beers were relatively normal in alcohol content, but the first may have been almost like drinking two. I remembered how much I hated waking up feeling completely unrested, having to get up to pee at wee hours, thirsty and unable to get back to sleep, and basically being unable to fully function intellectually with unclear thinking skills the following day. I also noticed my allergies were worse. Three beers was almost nothing for me before; it only took two weeks for that effect.

When the weekend rolled around, I went to an event out of town, and then a new friend/acquaintance offered to meet up for sushi. At first, I was hesitant being unfamiliar with him, but I was hungry, and the timing was perfect. I started out drinking water, had a tiny bit of sake and opted for a beer that I normally really like. However, I wasn’t liking the beer much at all and switched it to something sweet. It was nice to be out having conversation and a meal with someone, and I left feeling generally content, yet tired.

The following day, I noticed my mood was off. I felt sad, even though it was a nice day. (I suppose I could have also been sad about my other male friend.) Again, my energy was low and I had little motivation, but I didn’t feel like I had a hangover or anything. I was burping up the beer the next day, which made me not want to drink it even more, especially after nearly 12 hours passed since I’d drank it… just gross. I felt annoyed all day and canceled plans to go to an art event, because I didn’t want to be around people. I don’t know if this is a result from drinking or just being tired or annoyed.

Doing two experiments of having a few drinks after not drinking showed me that it really doesn’t bring me any happiness, especially the following day. Socially, it can be fun, but I am pretty sure I can find other fun things to do.

People were asking how long I was going to stop drinking. I never had an answer, because I tried to make realistic expectations and just go with the flow with how I felt. I have no cravings to continue doing it, and after feeling as bad as I have been, I don’t looking forward to it again. Eventually, I want to get back into eating a stricter diet, but for now I’m doing one thing at a time; I’m still enjoying chocolate chip cookies for now.

Getting Rejected by Male Friends

There’s a reason why heterosexual men and women cannot just be friends: sex. Even when sex is not involved, once the man realizes he’s not going to get anywhere with the woman sexually, he either ditches the friendship or remains very distant.

I met someone last summer that was a very good friend to me. He was there for me when no one else was when I had my surgery and helped me tremendously, more than anyone in my family or circle of friends. He fixed my car for free and refused to take payment. I felt comfortable enough with and trusted him enough to share things that I’d never told anyone else. We didn’t have much in common, but sometimes we’d have dinner or drinks together. Our communication was pretty much daily, and it was nice knowing someone cared. But I noticed something changed shortly after my surgery and then again recently.

Once I was on my way to recovering from surgery, I saw less and less of my male friend. I know he had a bunch of his own things going on; from a friendship standpoint, I was available for him emotionally if he needed me. But apparently, he didn’t need me. Each time I offered to make dinner for him in return of the favors he’d done for me, he declined. At some point, I told him I was going to stop asking, because I can’t keep setting myself up for rejection. His communication became less and less, and I let him know that I felt that he was avoiding me, and I wanted to know why. He gave excuses about working a lot, being busy, dealing with stuff. Okay, I get that, but I also felt it was just excuses and that he was blowing me off. After all, we went from hanging out 3-4x a week to maybe once a week or every other week. I figured maybe he’d started seeing someone, but he swore that wasn’t the case.

One of the things in the back of my mind is that he knew that due to the surgery, I was unable to have sex for a long period of time, so maybe that’s why he wasn’t pursuing the friendship. When I’d brought this up to him, he denied it and continued saying he was just busy. After healing from surgery and being medically cleared for normal activity, he found some time to hang out again, and he kept asking me when I was okay to go back to regular activity again. I knew he was referring to sexual activity, and medically, I was approved, but mentally and physically, I wasn’t ready.

When the holidays came around, my male friend was busy with family, so I barely heard from him and only saw him once – and it was the last time I saw him. This is about the time the friendship seemed to have completely changed. It was clear to me that he wanted to fuck, and even though my body wanted to, I physically could not due to other medical issues I was having. Mentally, I still couldn’t handle it at the time, and I didn’t want to get my feelings involved for the wrong reasons with someone that also isn’t emotionally available.

I told my male friend that I can only be friends with him, because I am going through my own shit, I knew he was going through his. I reminded him that he’s completely emotionally unavailable, and he treats me no different than he does his other friends, so I’m not about to have sex with someone that puts me on the same level as everyone else. This incident happened between Christmas and the new year. Since, I only hear from my friend when I initiate the conversation, and he hasn’t invited me to do anything at all. A week or so ago I was running errands near his house, so I asked what he was up to; he usually tells me to stop by and say hi. He didn’t. He hasn’t even initiated a hello or anything, which makes me feel like he only wanted to hang out thinking he was going to get laid, and that makes me feel like shit.

I sent my friend some messages about trying to arrange fixing my car again, because we’ve been discussing it for several months. He ignored my message and other regular ones I’d sent, but he had time to post shit on social media. When he eventually answered me, I felt he was being standoffish. So today, I finally sent him a message saying, “Look, I don’t know if you’re seeing somebody or something but you don’t even say hi to me anymore unless I initiate the conversation. I haven’t seen you literally since last year. I know you’re busy and all but I feel like something has changed between us. I almost feel like I’m bothering you by even asking you anything.” So far… crickets.

This is the type of behavior that men display that makes me not want to bother becoming friends with straight men anymore, because it’s a double edged sword. Just because I’m not going to have sex with someone doesn’t mean we can’t be friends and we can’t hang out, that we can’t eat meals together like normal friends. It’s really hurtful to gain trust in someone that was once so helpful, then just drops off the radar when he knows he can’t have sex with me. It’s really hurtful to continue being rejected by people that only want to be friends under certain conditions.

Lack of Sex & Depression

Yesterday I wrote about eating alone and depression, realizing that I need some social interaction during meals. While still attempting to get to the root of my own depression, I realize that when I am having regular sex, I am a much happier person. I sleep better, eat healthier, feel more energized, and for whatever reason, I think more clearly and get more things accomplished, and I generally feel alive all over. I cannot remember the last time I felt that way. (Oh wait, yes I can – two and a half years ago. *cringe*)

I did some research on depression and lack of sex. Not surprisingly, it turns out there is a correlation between the two. The hormones released during sex help with fighting off stress, pain, and illness – all of which I’ve been dealing with. There are other physical bodily results from lack of sex that made me say WTF! For women: “Without regular intercourse, your vagina can tighten and its tissues can get thinner and be more likely to get injured, tear, or even bleed during sex.” Whoa. This would explain some things.

During the last three years of my marriage, we had sex once a year, and I didn’t consider myself depressed at the time, but looking back, I probably was. Prior to those three years, sex was dull; even though he was happy and thought it was great, it was boring for me, because he was boring and insisted he knew what he was doing when he did not. Except for a couple of short term relationships (2-3 months) in the past six years, I haven’t had regular sex at all. I miss being held, being close to someone, and having someone to care about. I haven’t had good sex or even a good kiss in over a year. No wonder I’m depressed and pissed off about everything.

Solo isn’t cutting it anymore. I’m not desperate enough to have a fling, but dammit, my body is telling me it needs some attention. Prior to the past year, I would have been open to a friend with benefits situation, but that’s not going to work for me now. I tend to get my feelings involved for the wrong reasons, and having sex only increases those feelings – and I certainly don’t need to put myself in another situation that makes me feel shitty. And despite some of the terrible things I’ve written that have happened to me, I am very aware of my sexuality, and I have no hang-ups enjoying intercourse with the right person. The issue is finding that person.

Eating Alone & Depression

I have a lot of work to do with myself. Writing down my thoughts has been extremely therapeutic for me, and the more I write, the more realizations I have – the patterns, the negative thoughts that were ingrained into my system that I didn’t even know existed. I’m doing my best to pinpoint the things that have been causing depression and doing whatever I can to lift my spirits.

Whether you’re an adult or a child, eating alone all the time can be depressing. When I was trained to be a home health care aide, we were told that it’s important to eat meals (or at least sit) with our elderly clients, because they tend not to eat as much when they’re alone, and they’re happier eating with other people. What is it about eating alone vs eating with others that somehow determines our happiness? Studies have found that people enjoy the general social aspect of eating with others. The only times I didn’t eat alone throughout my adult life was when I was in the army, married or had a boyfriend, or when my daughter was young and I had a regular schedule. Studies show that people who share meals with others tend to eat healthier and live healthier lives. I suppose that would explain one of the reasons I have been depressed for much of the past six years.

Except for eating at my grandparent’s houses or with my father when I was a child, I often ate alone growing up. If I didn’t eat alone, I was usually separated from the adults, or dinnertime was so miserable I’d opt to eat alone. It was either literally get yelled at for breathing or something else that is considered normal to anyone. Here is an excerpt from Chapter 7 of my book, Unheard:

“Since dinnertime is dreadful, I hate evenings. Even when I am starving, I prefer eating by myself. I hate looking at him and watching him sit with his head tilted down towards the plate and scraping the food from his fork into his mouth without ever looking up. I try to speak and make normal conversation; he makes a point to say something to upset my stomach or tells me to shut up and eat. He finishes his food, gets up without excusing or cleaning up after himself, trots into the living room, lights a smelly cigarette, watches TV, and drinks beer. I guess he thinks it was a woman’s job to keep quiet and clean up after him.”

When something is “normal” for a child, they don’t always realize it’s not normal or healthy as an adult. I knew that what was happening to me didn’t feel right, especially when my friends did “normal” things, like eat with their families. I have never purposely separated myself from eating with others as an adult; it’s just that I don’t exactly have a choice when I’m single.

My daughter visited me a couple of weekends ago, and for the first time in a while, I cooked up a delicious shrimp and pasta dish. It was the first time I’d cooked a meal for anyone other than myself in months, and it was nice to share. When I was regularly dating, I cooked more than I was taken out, and I was perfectly happy with that, because I was happy. I realize that some of my happiest times are when I’m cooking and sharing meals with others (not being expected to, but wanting to), and that hasn’t happened regularly in two and a half years. (If you follow my blog, you’ll probably guess with whom.) I’ve also been more depressed in that two and a half years than ever, and I eat alone almost 100% of the time.

I try to take myself out to eat for lunch or dinner just to be in a social outing, even if I’m out alone. However, eating out gets expensive, and I feel that I can cook better than what is served in most restaurants. Plus, I love sharing my culinary skills with others. Like the studies have shown, it’s the socialization that I’ve been missing at mealtime and probably another reason my friends keep telling me I need a boyfriend. *eyeroll*

How I Lost My Virginity

Seeing the patterns of sexual abuse…

Free the Burden

This is probably going to be somewhat disturbing to some readers, so this is fair warning.

When I was 16, I worked with a guy that went to my school. For about a year he begged me to date him, but I wasn’t interested. Eventually, I gave in to him and he was my “first love” so to speak. He had a car, so we’d sneak off and park in wooded areas or parks to make out and have sex.

One night when I was babysitting he came to the house. We were on the living room floor (the person I was babysitting for was in her room asleep by then) making out. He was acting like an asshole, which was typical of him anyway, but here’s where this gets disturbing… All of the times I thought we were having sex, he wasn’t actually inside of me. I think maybe the…

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Snail Slime and Self-Protection

A few weeks ago, a snail was crawling up the window of my door, which was an unusual thing to see. A big believer of signs and symbols, I looked up the meaning of the snail. It turns out that I learned something new – snails have two different types of slime; one type is for movement, and the other is for protection… and snails secrete a substance to create their own shell.

I had to reflect on this snail discovery, as I am often told that I’m very guarded. When I’m in a new place or around new people, I typically observe; it’s important to know my surroundings before participating. Maybe that’s why a lot of people initially think that I’m quiet and guarded when they first meet me; this has been said to me since I was a child. I never understood what people meant, because I feel that I’m friendly and cordial with people. I suppose being guarded had to do with my upbringing of always having to protect myself from one thing or another. If you’ve been a follower long enough and/or read my books, you’ll understand that statement (or you can read excerpts here).

I feel that the snail was a sign for me to watch myself, my surroundings and the things that I was doing. I was drinking too much over the holidays and not protecting myself from sickness and toxic, slimy people. In the end, all of it literally made me ill. It was a sign to move on, move away from these people and protect not only my physical body, but my emotional and mental state. I realize snail slime is the only slime I need in my life.

Acceptance After Being Ghosted

The other day I posted about the other four stages of grief after being ghosted by someone in a close dating relationship. There were a few times I felt I had come to the acceptance stage, but I was alternating between all of the stages randomly. I would think to myself, I’m over it; he’s a jerk, and then something would toss me right back to a different stage. I’d be angry at the fact that he’s meeting other women and dating and having fun, but I was left standing alone without answers to my heartbreak and had a miserable dating life. (I was also angry when one of his family members suggested that I must not have ever had anyone break up with me before, since I had these feelings. I corrected them by reminding them I was ghosted without answers.) I have come to some other realizations about this person that have helped me to enter the stage of acceptance.

It’s always helpful to get over someone by dating another person, however, the options I had been presented were pretty grim. Prior to meeting OC, a close friend had unexpectedly passed away, and during my mourning period (which lasted about a year), I jumped into a two-month toxic relationship with someone 18 years younger. I met OC about three or four months after that relationship ended. I was looking to date, but only looking for friends and activity partners, so what I felt with him was completely unexpected. Looking back, I feel that I was probably still vulnerable to opening myself up to injured souls, because I was also one of them.

Taking accountability for myself, I probably ignored a lot of red flags – the first of which was that OC’s online dating profile stated he was single. However, he was still technically a married man (verified separated for two years at that point) and still living in the same house with his wife. I broke my own rule by continuing a relationship with him, because my rule is to date someone that has been single (not separated) for at least a year, preferably longer. When I initially met him, he’d told me about another woman he’d been on a few dates with and was texting him… but according to him, he was ignoring her. I’d informed him that I only date one person at a time, and I expect the same in a partner and that he needs to tell this woman that he’s seeing someone else, to not just ignore her. I don’t know what he did, but now I suspect he ghosted her as well. Or perhaps he ghosts women, then shows up randomly when he thinks it’s okay and allow him back into their lives again… the same way he did to me six months later when he unblocked me and liked my social media posts – and still continues to this day!

I specifically remember a couple of times him mentioning things to me that seemed off. For example, even though he still claimed to be getting divorced, he was adamant about staying in their home and was building a separate entrance for himself. I later learned that during the time they supposedly separated, they’d purchased the house together, which didn’t fit the divorce story he was giving me. He would spend the night at my house most nights and head home first thing in the morning; we never spent any mornings together – just afternoons and nights. I had suspected he’d been hiding something or bending the truth, but I never actually found out. He also had a tattoo of a ball and chain along with his wife’s name on the front of his hip. When I asked if he was planning to cover it up, he became flustered as if I’d asked him to chop off his balls. He replied,  “Why? No one will see it.” Seriously? I told him I see it, and if he dates other women, they’re going to see it as well. I suspect he never covered it up, and he probably never will. (I wonder what his new girlfriend thinks of his wife’s name when she’s giving him a blowjob?) He’d say random things that didn’t make sense to me at the time. For example, one time he told me he was selfish and immature, but I hadn’t seen that side of him, so I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. What he’d presented to me in his actions was opposite of what he said in so many ways.

Something wasn’t right, but I blamed it on my own insecurities. I developed a lot of anxiety when I didn’t hear from him, especially that last week prior to him ghosting me. Perhaps he was lying to me, perhaps it was something else, but I ignored my gut feelings. The problem I have with myself is I am determined to get to the bottom of things, to find out the truth, and when I can’t pinpoint what isn’t right, I continue with a relationship until I do find out. He claimed to be “so busy” with his work, but right after he ghosted me, he’d pass me at the beach every single day, so I felt he was using that as an excuse.

Knowing OC’s history of 30+ years being raised in and then leaving a cult religion whose manipulative members suddenly cut off their own children for not being followers, I am aware that this has been ingrained into his system since he was a child, so it is probably easy for him to act this way without any regard for my feelings. Not that it’s right by any means, but what else can I tell myself when I have no other explanation? I also realize, no matter how sweet he was to me while we were together, he is a very wounded and disturbed soul that may not feel anything at all. He lied to me and broke promises, especially when he knew I was recovering after a divorce and promised me he wouldn’t break my heart.  I tell myself he was fake and manipulated my feelings and trust for his own selfish purposes, and everything about the relationship was as fake as Dirty John, because genuine people do not develop close intense relationships only to treat others with such disdain. I wish I could have moved on when it all went down; I wanted nothing more than those awful feelings to go away. I look at him now and think I can do so much better than him.

The stage of acceptance is the beginning of my healing process, because I am ready to meet my next long-term relationship.

Working Through Grief After Being Ghosted

First, I want to say that I am tired (and I know my friends are, too) of talking about this person, and I want it out of my brain once and for all. I wish I could say this is my last time talking about it, but I’m not sure I can say everything in one sitting.

If anyone could flip a switch to turn off anxiety, depression, or symptoms of grief or trauma, you bet your ass they would! So when someone says to “get over it,” they are clueless as to what you’re going through. There have been times when I don’t even understand why I feel the way I do, so I don’t expect others to be helpful, but insensitive comments are not appreciated.

Grief is a peculiar thing, and the five stages don’t always go in order. I am just now discovering this about OC, the guy that ghosted me two and a half years ago. About six months ago, I became angry about the situation. I am not a hateful person, and I cannot remember the last time I felt hate towards anyone, so why would these feelings suddenly emerge?

In case you’re not a regular follower, here’s a recap: We met on a dating app, dated intensely for 3 months (together 4-5 nights a week and weekends), fell head over heels for him, met some of his family, led me to believe we’d be together in the future (he spoke of plans for months ahead), said things to me like “it would take a lot to leave you.” I went to visit my family for a week, I even invited him to come along, he said he missed me, then he became uncommunicative (around this time my gut cringed), then he sent me a confusing text three days later telling me he had to take care of some work and financial stuff and that he didn’t mean to hurt me. He never actually said he didn’t want to see me anymore; I thought at the very least we’d remain friends. Then he never spoke to me or texted me again and blocked me from social media. We ran into each other all of the time, but he refused to look at me or speak to me, and at times he’d either hide or leave the place we were at. However, six months later, he unblocked me from Instagram and started liking my posts. I sent him several messages (usually after drinking, oops!), asking him why he did what he did and that I deserved an explanation, then eventually I told him how much he’d hurt me. He would read all of my messages yet fail to answer. About three months after that (this would be nearly a year since I’d met him), he matched with me again on a dating site… but never said a word. One of his family members was also following me on Instagram and liking my posts but would not allow me to follow his private account but would speak to me in public, another family member told me OC said that I was a “cool chick.” Total mindfuck! So, you can see how this would drive anyone batshit crazy that was still going through the stages of grief from this horrible un-breakup. It would have been easier and more forgivable to deal with an actual death.

Viewing the stages of grief this morning, I think the first stage I experienced was denial. I thought something happened and he was just dealing with it in his own way and I’d hear from him eventually. I mean, no one that spends so much time together and appears to be so close and honest just ups and leaves, right? Wrong! Plus, we’re in our 40s and he was so sweet to me, so there’s no way a man this age would do that, right? Wrong! I remember hearing a truck down my street thinking it was him coming over to talk to me. Wrong! (It was my neighbor’s truck.)

First, I think I was in the bargaining stage. I asked myself what happened? What did I do wrong? I blamed myself for doing something that I wasn’t aware that I did. It took me a long time to realize I did nothing wrong at all. I had just dated a cowardly asshole that couldn’t face the truth.

Depression was the stage that hit me immediately and didn’t go away for nearly two years. (I had been depressed about other things, but specifically this situation was different.) Again, I blamed myself. I didn’t eat for four months. I didn’t lose weight, either, because I did plenty of drinking during that time. Every time I saw him, I felt anxious to the point of a near-panic attack, then depressed, almost obsessive about it. I wanted nothing more than for him to speak to me, because I felt horrible. It didn’t help that he was liking my shit on social media, which I did eventually block him at some point.

Then came the anger. I didn’t think it was possible for me to be as angry as I’ve been for as long as I’ve been. (Perhaps middle age has something to do with it?) When I get mad about something, I stay mad for a bit, and then I’m over it. Maybe after having dates with multiple douchebags triggered something? Or maybe it’s just the stage I need to be in so that I can continue to heal?

One last incident: On New Year’s Eve, I went out with a friend to watch a band play. OC was there. The place wasn’t that crowded, and my friend and I both noticed him walking the long way around so that he passed by our table. Twice. He could have gone a shorter way away from us, but he didn’t. I’m so glad that my friend was there as a witness, because people think I make this shit up. She asked if he was trying to antagonize me. I replied, “I don’t know what he’s doing, but it’s weird!” Was he trying to get me to notice him? Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve it. The entire night I pretended I didn’t see him and kept a far distance, kept my back at him, even went to the opposite end of the bar to order drinks. And that’s when I realized I can do so much better than him.

Tomorrow I will write about the other stage of grief – acceptance.

Facebook Dating: Another Online Fail

Maybe my friends and frenemies are tired of seeing me without a significant other that makes me as unhappy as they are. Who knows, but someone talked me into trying Facebook dating, claiming it’s “better than the other sites,” and that I needed to be more open-minded. Whatever. I already know what dating sites are about, which is why I swore off of them a year ago. My synopsis is that most of the people on those sites are hiding who they really are, super desperate, super flawed, newly out of a relationship, trolls, and/or players. I want none of the above. So I tried Facebook dating and found it to be a complete waste of time, not to mention adding more to my life’s aggravation.

The first guy I matched with, “Joe”, was cool to talk to and responsive, looked normal in his photos (although I did give him shit about the bathroom mirror selfie). Responsive is something I appreciate, because if I’m going to take the time out to be on a stupid dating app, I don’t want to wait four days for a reply to “where are you from originally?” And another week for another reply. Joe isn’t from my area originally, which I prefer, but moved to Florida about a year ago. After chatting enough with Joe, I asked if he’d like to meet. That’s when he informed me he did not have transportation. Say what?! Yep, Joe’s story started to make a lot more sense after that bit of information. He’d left a long-term relationship and his children in another state a year prior, but doesn’t talk much about that. He’s “building a business” but working for someone else, relying on his boss to drive him around, left all of his crap (vehicle included) in the other state. I informed Joe that I wasn’t looking for a penpal, and what was he expecting by not having a vehicle? Seriously, dude, wtf??? Joe danced around his words and said he would figure it out. Sorry, Joe Schmoe, get your shit together if you’re over 40 want to date a decent woman! If I wanted to dodge bullets, I’d have stayed in the army! Delete.

Next guy that “liked me” is someone I met and went on a very brief one-time-only date about six years ago when I was newly separated. Six years ago, “Harry” was a firefighter and too touchy-feely for someone I had just met. He had a 5-o’clock-shadow as hard as boar bristle, and he tried sticking his tongue in my mouth, and just… eww. I was sooo not into him. He got offended when I told him to slow it down, that we’d just met. Then a few days later, he actually got mad at me for not being into him, as if I should fall in love before I even file for divorce. Dumbass. Anyway, when I saw that Harry liked me again, I sent him a message reminding him we’d already dated, and didn’t he remember me? He said he remembered that I liked his roommate better. I don’t recall that, maybe I thought the roommate would save me from boar-bristle, tongue-jabbing Harry. I wasn’t about to argue with Harry, so I deleted him.

I matched with a few other guys that were mostly unresponsive, and I’m not chasing after any man, especially if they show no interest. But then there was “Max,” claiming to be “an extremely bashful old soul.”

I really liked what Max had to say in his profile, has been single for nearly as long as I have (which is unheard of), and he was good looking. But I found it difficult to communicate with Max. He was also working a lot “building his business”. I asked him why he’s on a dating site if he’s too busy to date. I should have given up on him after this comment, but he said he’s hoping that he will find a woman that sticks around and understands he has to work a lot, and later she will reap the rewards. Say what?! What kind of fucking fantasy are these men living in? I told him that if he expects he’s going to find a woman to sit back and wait around for him, he’s certainly missing the point of dating, and what is he really expecting, because people have emotional needs? You can’t get to know someone that’s never around, and if he isn’t around, a woman will find someone that is. I was brutally honest with him, because of his claim of being single for so long. I mean, someone has to tell him, right?

Max finally started messaging me a little more consistently. After two weeks of this, I said, “Hey, I don’t want a penpal, and I want to delete this app soon. Do you want to meet?” He mentioned on Wednesday something about getting sushi on Saturday night. It wasn’t a set date, but a suggestion… and it appeased me for the moment.

And then I didn’t hear from Max.

Saturday rolled around, still no messages from Max. However, Max had enough time to post new photos and update his profile. Really… I said, “I see you updated your photos,” and I reminded him I was about to delete my profile in case he still wanted to meet. He replied that he was “bored at work” adding more pics and info, but never replied to my other message about meeting. Why I bothered to give him a chance after that, I don’t know, but I said, “I see you didn’t reply to my other message. I get it, but if you’re not interested in meeting, why would you match with me? Good luck with your search.” I gave him ample time to reply with something, anything… even a “good luck” back. Crickets.

No reply = fuck you, Max! Fuck you for wasting my time and giving me a glimmer of hope for conversation and sushi on a Saturday night. Game-playing asshole!

I gladly deleted my profile the next morning. I prefer to meet people organically so that I can pick up on their vibes and bullshit immediately before wasting time messaging those who are “too busy” for anything. Facebook dating is a fail, just like all of the others!

Things that make me Batshit Crazy

A person can only take so much shit before they lose it. I discovered this about myself the other night when I lost my shit in public. I’m not proud of it, but I’m also not sorry for it at all – and the reason is this: Those people were not my friends; they are merely gossip bottom feeders and shit starters that rely on fake friendships to feel better about themselves. At the very least, I hope I acted crazy enough so that they never fuck with me again.

In order to make myself feel better, I rely on nature and quiet times. When I moved to my house five years ago, it was a fairly quiet neighborhood. There was a tree line behind the house that I wasn’t aware until last year that blocked most of the traffic noise. Then someone built a house. It’s amazing how much trees can absorb noise. Unfortunately, overdevelopment has increased the amount of noise, as well as those stupid ass leaf blowers that never seem to turn the fuck off all over the neighborhood all days of the week, all hours of the day. And don’t get me started about the shitty dog owners that allow their big dogs to bark all day long. Too much “city life” type of living gives me anxiety, which is why I live where I do. But when I can’t even enjoy the place I live (and also work from home most of the time), I feel like it may be time to move on.

Some people think working from home means you don’t have a job, you’re available 24/7, and you will do things for them for free. I used to do things for free, but not anymore. When I see these same cheap asses shell out $300 for a name brand purse or some other sweatshop overpriced designer bullshit, then they can come up with the money for what I offer that I don’t sell out to children in a third world country. When they tell me they can get it cheaper elsewhere, go for it! You get what you pay for… and I have no desire to do anything for people that don’t value my work.

Something that not only feels like a waste of my time and my life, but also that I should never have to do, is someone else’s job. I am constantly finding myself doing the job of whomever at the VA or VA claims that can’t seem to find my paperwork or medical records. I’m at the point of about to hire an attorney, because I have literally spent HOURS of my life to get absolutely nowhere – for twenty years!

If I’m in a conversation with someone that is constantly checking or answering their phone, forget it. I give up. I have also been on (horrible) dates that have done this. Grow the fuck up and show some respect or get the fuck out. I actually have stopped mid-sentence and stopped talking altogether, because obviously what I have to say isn’t that important, so why waste my breath? It’s so inconsiderate to do that to anyone.

So imagine someone with depression, anxiety, and PTSD (during the holidays) being approached with all of the above in the same week or two… total recipe for batshit crazy.

Enough said.

Living Without a Purpose

It’s days like today I wish I’d been an abortion and wonder why in the hell I’m even on this planet. It’s also days like today that remind me of why I refuse to own a gun or glad I don’t have a gas oven. Oftentimes, it’s the people that you love the most that remind you that your purpose in life is unclear and nothing you do is important or good enough, no matter how good your intentions are, especially when already deeply depressed.

I realize that it’s been a long time since I felt I had a sense of purpose. How long? I cannot even remember, but maybe ten years or more. That was a time when I was married and had my home business. I would get up every morning and write or do other work, take care of household chores and pets, and deal with a teenager. I suppose having a relationship (that helped with financial stability) and a child at home helped me to feel a sense of purpose as well, made me feel like I mattered to someone, even if it was only for cooking and cleaning and being there when someone needed me. Plus, I was happy with the work I was doing. It was the time when I wrote my first book, wrote screenplays, and had articles and photography published in various places. I often feel like that was the shining moment in my life, and I won’t get it back or see it again. Although I would love for it to happen again, I also feel that I would be chasing unicorn dreams instead of facing reality.

Another time I felt a sense of purpose was about 19 years ago. Since I was a child, I wanted to be just like the teachers that I looked up to, so I became a teacher. I started out truly enjoying what I did, even though it was stressful. I quickly realized I was not going to make the cut of one of those “great teachers,” because I had too many personal responsibilities that wouldn’t allow me to focus solely on my career. Then things changed dramatically in our flawed American public education system, and teaching was no longer rewarding. I went to work every day feeling dread, came home feeling unappreciated and overworked. Health issues started when I was at my last teaching job; the amount of stress put me in the hospital, which of course caused more financial stress. I realized that I had to move on to another field if I wanted to keep my sanity and health.

Shortly after my divorce, I found a job working for a new company that seemed promising, so I thought maybe this is where I’m needed in life, and just maybe I could build from there. The starting pay was terrible, however, the hours were what I wanted, and I was told things would change financially within a few months. The only thing that changed was financially worse and discovering I was working for people running a scam, and their business (not surprisingly) went under.

A couple of years ago, even though the pay was pathetic and nearly minimum wage, I became a home health aide, thinking that maybe it would be rewarding, because I’d be helping someone in need. Anyone that has worked in this field quickly finds out that family members of the people you take care of and spend hours and hours with don’t always appreciate the work you do, even when you do extra things not required. In fact, they start expecting more, and no matter what, you don’t get paid more. The only thing it did was make me more depressed than I already was, because not only did clients pass away, I was sitting around in someone else’s house all day and/or cleaning it and taking care of the family’s large, annoying dogs that were another job in itself.

There are many days I wake up eager for night to fall again just so that I can go back to sleep. I don’t want to look at or speak to anyone or leave the house. When I’m not feeling well physically, like I have been lately, it exacerbates the depression. I do my best to force myself to either write or do artwork or at least clean the house or a closet or something to get myself moving. It’s a daily struggle, and it has been for years, and no one that hasn’t been through it will ever understand what it’s like to wake up every single day without a purpose or feeling that you matter in the world.

PTSD Triggers and Losing My Sh*t

I have never been kicked out of a place before, but  that changed the other night, and I am not the type of person to lose my shit like that. I will leave a place before I lose my cool, so I am surprised at myself, actually. It wasn’t expected, but there were three things going on all at once that triggered PTSD.

Here’s a little backstory on something that happened recently: I had seen OC out a couple of times with the woman he’s dating. I didn’t think it bothered me; perhaps I suppressed my feelings, but my feelings weren’t towards them. My feelings were about how I felt when he ghosted me, and for whatever reason, those feelings came back in full force, as if it had happened all over again. I didn’t eat or sleep well for about a week, and I had that same knot like I’d been kicked in the stomach that I had two and a half years ago. I don’t understand why I had these feelings except maybe the stress and depression around the holidays also triggered something else that I have yet to deal with.

OC’s girlfriend happens to be a bartender at a place I sometimes go. I think she’s a nice person, and I never have problems with anyone. I happened to be there when she was working, and there were cute puppy videos on the tv we were watching. She then showed me a pic of her dog and said something about her boyfriend of six months (surprised he lasted that long with anyone). Then we got onto the subject of the boyfriend (OC). I told her I had dated him, wish I’d never met him, said I think he’s sneaky and a liar and filled her in on my side of the story. I don’t think she knew he and I dated. I told her I hope she breaks his heart. I wish nothing bad on her whatsoever, but perhaps she is also avoiding the red flags and warning signs that I had.

In the meantime, someone else walked into that bar that I hadn’t seen in quite some time, and it set off another trigger. I don’t know what happened, but my mind just shut down at some point. I was still talking to the bartender when someone else that knows nothing about me piped in and started talking shit to me about me. First of all, I’m not going to let anyone talk shit to me, especially when they don’t even know me enough to attend my funeral. This is a person that has zero room to talk, but I suspect she gets her information about me from a frenemy, so that’s when I lost my shit. I told her to fuck off, told her to shut the fuck up, called her a stupid fucking cunt, and at some point I don’t remember what else I said. I must have been blackout angry by that point. Actually, I was yelling, which is something I never do unless I have just had enough. It’s been a long time since I’ve yelled at anyone. Maybe it’s what I needed before I exploded inside.

Between PTSD triggers, anger, and alcohol, that was it for me. I was told to leave the bar, which I was attempting to do at that point anyway, and I was getting up to leave and gathering my things. I think they thought I was going to physically attack her (I’m not a fighter), so I was grabbed and pushed out. Not a loss, actually, because it’s the place that I feel a lot of the douchebags I’ve written about here hang out; I just like the music there.

I have never dealt with certain things that have happened to me, because I find it difficult to talk about and blame myself for a lot of it. Now that I’ve identified a trigger or three, maybe I can begin to work with it in my next counseling session.

New Year Not As Planned

So far, my new year hasn’t gone as planned whatsoever. I was attempting to focus on healing physically and emotionally, and I was determined to get it right this time. I’ve started working out again – yoga, long walks, and my first bike ride in months.

On New Year’s Day, I was recovering from lack of sleep, taking it easy and getting some work done on my laptop. A “friend” stopped by after drinking a bottle of vodka (I wasn’t aware at the time how much) and got on my nerves like most drunks do before she passed out while I babysat her. I had some cards and a book by Shannon Kaiser that I wanted to work with, and when I showed her, she laughed. I was not amused, and I sent her home. I don’t need anyone getting in my way of my healing/recovery. I just want to be happy, because being depressed is no way to feel.

Same friend also talked me into trying Facebook dating, which has also been a waste of time like all of the dating sites. One match has no vehicle. Another one has no time. What the fuck. Why be on there? I don’t need a penpal. Said friend tells me I need to be more open minded about meeting men. Just because she matches with a shit ton of men doesn’t mean I’m closed minded about who I meet. I’m just careful, I have standards about spending quality time with quality people, and I’m not looking to date multiple men. It would be nice to find just one with an actual brain (and a vehicle), but I’m not holding my breath.

I have an upper respiratory/cold that started just around New Year’s Eve and has gotten progressively worse. Last night I was up coughing most of the night, which of course, disturbed my much needed sleep, which caused me to sleep later, and I missed important phone calls from my doctor. The other day I had some pain and bleeding as if I’d started my period, even though I no longer have a uterus. So now I have another doctor’s appointment to see what’s going on, and I’m afraid I’m going to need yet another surgery. I don’t start another job for at least 3 more weeks, but if I have to have another surgery, I won’t be going.

The other night, I was talked into going out, even though I told myself I would stay in. I should have listened to myself instead of other people, but I figured it was the weekend and just one more time out before I start a new week. My ride left, and when I went to take an Uber, my phone completely died on me. No one was around, and it was late, and I ended up walking five miles to my house.

I realize I need to completely change my circle of friends and my habits if I want to heal properly. Since the holidays, I drank way too much alcohol, and I need to find alternative things to do, even if I do it alone, because ultimately I’m alone anyway. A healthier lifestyle is what I want for myself, which means I need to find people that are like-minded.