Marriage

Living Without a Purpose

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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.

Women’s jobs aren’t worthless, dude

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How to treat a working woman

(NOTE: This was written several years ago when I was married. I thought it would be fun to share.)

I had a conversation the other day with a friend. We discussed why women’s work is viewed as worthless, even though most of the time we are the spine of a man’s success. This is what she had to say:

“Many men have a problem with ‘unpaid’ work but yeah, its fucking WORK regardless. Women have always worked more than men, we put in countless hours of unpaid contribution to make the world go round. They always see the dollar signs first.

Men’s values are reflected in money… their big homes, big expensive cars, things that are reflective, physical proof of their hard work. It’s like they always have to have some phallic hard-on symbol to show off as proof of their worth. Women, our rewards come from within. Don’t ya think?”

Bravo, friend, bravo!

Who determines our worth?

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How it feels to be a wife

(NOTE: This and several upcoming posts were written several years ago when I was married. I thought it would be fun to share them.)

I suppose enough criticism from everyone in your environment can help you to determine whether or not you’re a worthless wife. Your family, your kids, your significant other, and even your neighbors can all contribute to that cause. After all, wives should be perfect in every way, 24/7, in sickness and in health, and do it with a smile on their faces.

“Alex’s mom is cool. She looks like a movie star and lets us stay up as late as we want,” the kids might say.

Nice. Alex’s mom is also a two-bit whore who screws her husband’s best friend.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” the husband might say. “I’m hungry.”

Dinner? It’s only one in the afternoon. I’m still digesting lunch.

“You should be helping your husband mow the lawn,” the neighbor might say.

Sure thing. I’ll get out my razor and make a landing strip as soon as he picks his dirty clothes up off of the bathroom floor.

“You two should plan sex at least two or three times a week. You need to keep your husband happy,” the mother might say.

Plan sex? Oh how romantic! Is that why you’re such a bitch after 3 “happy” marriages?

I’ll shut up now. After all, isn’t that what women are supposed to do?

What Are You Settling For?

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Settling. I see people around me doing it all the time. Settling in relationships, settling in jobs, settling in circumstances within their control. But I can’t do that. I refuse to waste even small moments of my life settling for something that’s not making me happy. I‘ve done it before, and it’s a big time waster. Time is money, and time can’t ever be replaced. But some people can.

I have witnessed so many of my friends and exes and others around me settling with the first person that comes along. Been there, done that, and it never works. At least not for me anyway. Well, maybe not the first person, but for someone because I’m tired of being alone. (Then in the end, realizing I’m better off alone.)

I’ve seen people stay in relationships “for the kids” or for whatever reason they happen to use, and most of the time, these people are really fucking miserable. When I see a couple that seems to be happy, then see either of them out alone happier without the other, that’s a problem. If men flirt with me when they’re not with their significant others, it makes me glad I’m not settled into some bullshit that someone else has. No thank you!! (And the men that do this are despicable!)

And then there are those settling into jobs for whatever reason. Yes, we all have to pay bills, but at this point in my life I want to do something I actually like, not something I have to do to get by. I’ve done all of this miserable shit before; I just can’t do it anymore. Yes, sometimes we work jobs specifically just for our shitty American health care. I’ve done all of that – and I’m over every bit of it, especially when the job itself literally made me ill. Lesson learned.

Life is too short to wake up in the morning dreading what you have to do each day… and this is why I live minimally. I refuse to be a slave to material things. (I wanted to live minimally when I was married, but it’s not what he wanted.) I live in a 500-square-foot garage apartment, and I drive a 15-year-old car. I no longer use credit cards. I barter things, such as salon services. I attempt to eat as healthy as I possibly as I can, which is a challenge if I want to buy organic foods. If I do go out, I try to organize it with ladies-day specials so I’m not paying full price… or sometimes my friends decide to pick up the tab (or on the very rare occasion I actually go out on a date), which is super cool. (However, I’ll probably be dead before student loans will ever be paid off.)

With that being said, people really get on my fucking nerves constantly asking what I’m doing for work, as if it defines who I am or as if it’s any of their business. For now, I’m just making it being self-employed doing product reviews and miscellaneous projects, picking up random things along the way to get by. I’ve explained it over and over again. These same people don’t understand that just because I don’t always physically have to be somewhere at certain times (traditional job), that I don’t work at all (as if money appears out of the sky – I wish!) – and actually tell other people that! It’s fucking annoying. But that’s because these people have settled. Settled into shitty jobs with shitty pay. Been there, done that, and it cost me my health. Not worth it for one minute!

I will work a job until it no longer serves ME, not the other way around. I refuse to be a slave to a corporation. I refuse to continue doing work that doesn’t make me happy in some way. And I refuse to sit in traffic for hours on end to a job I hate and wear clothes that aren’t comfortable to sit at a desk to do work that I despise. It’s no way to live life when you realize it could end at anytime without warning.

And Then I’ve Had Some Good Dates…

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I know I’ve only been posting about my dates from hell, but I have actually had some pretty good dates over the years. However, most of those had no chemistry on my part. Obviously, I had three months of great dates AND chemistry with OC, so that bar has been set to only find good dates that also have chemistry.

Years ago before I was married, I had a good date with a doctor, but there was no chemistry. Same goes for another date to a Renaissance faire and again to dinner but no chemistry. I’ve even had friends with benefits types of dates in the past that were a lot of fun. Today, I remain friends with many of these guys. And obviously I had some great dates with the person I was with for nearly 10 years. I had a pretty good first date with Computer Guy until he got weird and insisted he only wanted a relationship not a friendship. I had another good first and last date with someone our acquaintance set me up with… and again, no chemistry on my part, and I didn’t think we had that much in common.

I have also had some other great dates with good food and drinks and conversation. The most recent was with a man originally from California that is a few years older than me and super accommodating. We spoke on the phone for several hours until late morning over three nights. I really enjoyed talking to him; he was a good listener and a genuinely sweet person. Cali drove an hour to meet me for dinner at a really nice restaurant. When I arrived, he had flowers waiting. Our meal was amazing, and the date went very well. I wanted to have that chemistry, but no matter how hard I wanted to, I wasn’t feeling it. I don’t know what was holding me back; maybe it was lack of chemistry, maybe it was intuition of something I haven’t figured out yet. Or maybe it was because he looked so much like someone else I’d briefly dated (they even drive the same car!). And that really sucks, because Cali would probably make a great boyfriend for someone. I knew he could tell that I wasn’t into him as he was to me. But I am not sure if I could develop something more over time if we remain friends and get to know each other more than just over the phone. I think he may be like Needy Guy and only wanting an immediate relationship, whereas I’m all about taking things slow.

I know Cali wants more than just a friendship, and so do I, but I think a relationship really needs to start off as a friendship to begin with – chemistry or not. I can’t just rush into a situation like I have in the past. And there are things about Cali that really do melt my heart, but I can’t allow that to be my reason for going forward with a relationship. Looking back, it’s exactly how I ended up married to a person I basically had nothing in common with and no chemistry (who was also very needy).

I want a man that both makes my heart melt AND my panties wet!

Also, I think that just because I can hold a conversation for hours with certain people doesn’t necessarily mean we’re meant for each other in a romantic way. Obviously, being able to communicate in any relationship is a must for anything to last. But it seems like a lot of men confuse the fact that just because I’m nice that I’m automatically into them. Cali kept mentioning how close he felt to me by our conversations, and I truly appreciate that. However, I have had conversations with several people throughout my life that were just as good and just as long without having a romantic relationship.

So what now? I think I’m at least getting somewhere by raising the bar for what I want and what I’m not going to tolerate. I have been extremely flexible (too flexible!) in dating people that don’t make my “list” of things, which turned out to be disastrous. But I know one thing is for certain – the mental (which to me includes intellectual and emotional), spiritual, and physical ALL have to be included in my next one. It often seems impossible.

When Memories of Your Ex Dredge Up Annoyance

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Sometimes you don’t notice things about yourself until someone else points it out. One of my friends pointed out that she’s noticed I have been mentioning a little about my ex husband more so than usual, mentioning things that he did that pissed me off. I guess I had been obsessing more with OC and anyone else in the past five years rather than concentrate on my divorce and the issues I had with my ex. But I didn’t see the need for it at the time, and I had pretty much doused my brain in alcohol to deal with it.

One of the things I mentioned to her the other day was the fact that my ex used to ruin things for me that I worked very hard to get. For example, when we were first married and had a brand new house, he decided he wanted a dog, even though he was working too much for the responsibility of one. So guess who ended up taking care of the dog, cleaning up shit and dirt and everything else that goes along with having a pet? Well, I’ll tell you it wasn’t him. The dog even tore up my things – sentimental things – and not his, which obviously made me fume. It actually made me resent my ex, because I thought it was unfair to put the responsibility on me when I clearly said I didn’t want a dog. (The dog turned out to be great, but that’s not the point.)

I was trying to run a photography business out of my home, but my domestic duties and caring for the dog was really getting in the way. My ex had no idea how to run or build a business and thought that since I was “home all day” I did nothing but “play on the computer”. (I guess writing two books, having a clean home and laundry, and doing everything else just magically happened.) I had created a portable studio in the house and was offering portraits for families, children, and women. For women, sometimes they’d want a maternity shoot or a boudoir shoot – something intimate and personal – and I wanted to be sure everything was professional so they’d feel comfortable, tell all of their friends, and I’d gain new business.

There was one woman that wanted a boudoir shoot for her husband, and she brought her friend with her, which I highly recommended as a safety measure. Since they would be coming to my home, I told my then husband he had to be gone when my client got there. It was imperative that when they arrived, they’d feel at ease without a male presence around, because from experience, sometimes that can be creepy. So what did he do? He stuck around until they got there and made sure he introduced himself to them. I let them know he’s leaving right now and glared at him to get the hell out.

I was super annoyed that he did that; it made it seem unprofessional to me. Looking back, he did all sorts of shit that sabotaged my career and a lot of other things I did. And now that I’m rebuilding everything from the bottom up and see him around town doing just fine and living the high life, I get angry, because I was there to boost him in his career.

Shortly after that incident, I found out he’d been searching my computer looking for the photos of my client, which really set me off, but I was very good at “hiding” the content under various folders, and he wasn’t as computer literate as I. But it made me mad that I couldn’t trust him, and I thought it was rude and creepy… and that I couldn’t even do my job without him interfering. I felt that he crossed a boundary, because my clients entrusted me to their personal needs. I feel that by him just being at the house when the other women arrived, it hurt my business.

I know that no relationship is perfect, and he had a lot of good things about him, but now that I’m divorced and sometimes reminded of things, I think why was I with this person? How did I not see he was either competing with me and one-upping me on everything (I’ll write about that later) or sabotaging what I was working to do? I guess I was blinded by love, because he was the only guy that I had dated at the time that was nice to me. But sometimes that “nice” is just to get what they want.

First Turn-Off – The Big Baby

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The first turn-off in my marriage was the day he cried. No, not just cried. Bawled.

No one had died, and nothing bad had happened. Big Baby sat in the beige recliner in front of the tv in the living room of our brand new home and bawled his head off all because he couldn’t have his way. Not joking.

One of Big Baby’s friends was getting married, and he’d already decided he didn’t want to attend the wedding, didn’t want to take the 4-state trip up the coast, and since we’d just bought a house, funds were short. Big Baby changed his mind a few days before the couple’s big day when he found out some of his other friends were making the trip, and it would be one big party. What’s what set it off. The only thing keeping him back was the lack of funds – something HE chose to spend on things I didn’t find necessary.

Now I’m a pretty compassionate person, and normally I would console someone during times of distress. But I just couldn’t bring myself to console someone over something like this. Our marriage was new, and we’d only been together for just over a year at that point, so I wasn’t even sure how to handle this situation.

When asked what was the matter, Big Baby said he missed his friends. Okay… nevermind he had a new wife here he wasn’t even considering to bring with… but okay. I should have known then that this wouldn’t be the last time Big Baby would cry about much of nothing or throw temper tantrums like a 3-year-old, punching holes in walls and essentially turning me off from our sex life. No grown ass woman wants to have sex with a man-child.

More to come…