mental health

My Crazy Ex

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I just spent the last few days binge watching episodes of the show “My Crazy Ex,” and while a lot of those stories are outrageous, some of them don’t surprise me at all. Obviously if you’ve followed my blog, you know I have had several of my own personal experiences in dealing with crazies, but I haven’t told all of them.

I’d graduated college in my late 20s after my stint in the military. Teaching was what I really wanted to do, but finding a job was difficult without experience. I’d moved to South Florida to work for a company while applying for teaching positions in both the area I was living in and the area I was from.

In the meantime, I had visited my family in my hometown and had gone out with a friend to a beach bar. My friend and I ran into some guys we’d known from high school, and I ended up dating one of them, an electrician. For this writing, I’ll just call him Sparky.

At that point in my life, I had already been divorced from my child’s father for about 7 years and had one boyfriend in college for two years, so I had very little actual dating experience. I also had an 8-year-old at the time, which made dating extremely difficult. Sparky was super nice like all men are at the beginning of dating – caring and attentive, generous, and good to my daughter. I was still living in South Florida, so we attempted a long-distance relationship until I was hired for a teaching job in my hometown. Sparky had been living at his mother’s (red flag), and being that I was going to be moving back to the area, we decided to get a place together. Worst mistake ever!!!

It was only about weeks two or three that I realized Sparky had a lot of issues that could not be overlooked. I’d started my teaching job, and being that I was a new teacher, I had to spend a lot of time grading papers and putting together lesson plans at home on my own time. Sparky didn’t like that, saying I should be getting paid or just don’t do it. Although I agree that teachers should get paid for all of that work, most of us are dedicated to the job and not in it for the money, and it was essential to be prepared before the following day. Sparky didn’t seem to understand that, because I was working on my computer a lot. He was watching TV anyway, and everything was 20 feet apart, so what difference did it make? The difference was, Sparky wasn’t getting attention; he was actually jealous of my job! But it didn’t end there.

Sparky had already turned me off with his jealousy, so sex was out of the question with him, not to mention I was exhausted from the move and my job and being a mom – and he was exhausting me with his bullshit. He had gone to an AC/DC concert with friends one night, leaving me alone; I was elated and took the time to investigate some things – because I never had alone time. I knew he was reading all of my things on my computer but also my journal, which pissed me off. I had put my bookmark in a special way, and when I opened it, it had been turned. So I took the opportunity to write some things that I know would piss him off and see if he’d read it, like saying what a jerk he was being and how small his dick was.

When Sparky came back, I pretended to be asleep. He tried to cuddle with me by sticking his tiny dick against my back, and I shook him off. He tried it again but was more aggressive. Again, I shook him off. I knew he was pissed. It was extremely tense trying to sleep next to someone who is angry, and you’re unsure of what their reaction is going to be.

By week three, I realized that I needed to get out of the situation, discussed it with some people I knew and realized I could not afford to move again. I thought that by talking to Sparky like adults should discuss important things, that he would be okay with moving back in with his mother, because it obviously was NOT going to work out. I figured he’d be understanding of moving my daughter around again, she’d just started a new school, and I had nowhere else to go.

Talking to Sparky didn’t go well at all. He became angry immediately, yelled at me and called me names, told me to get out, threatened to throw all of my belongings over the balcony, and accused me of using him. I was truly scared for my life. At some point, he cornered me and attempted to get me to put my hands on him so he could yell to the police about it. I knew his game, but I was one up on him, so I knew to protect myself. He was right up in my face with his smelly breath. Believe me, I wanted to punch the shit out of him just to get him away from me. He was such a piece of shit, but I wasn’t sure he’d actually broken the law (I found out he’d been in a domestic violence situation before with his ex wife). That’s when I realized I was dealing with a truly fucked up individual, and it might be a little harder to get him out than I’d thought. Obviously, his behavior was unacceptable and threatening, but I wasn’t sure how bad it had to be to a judge.

He kept doing truly evil things, and then he had a friend send a virus to my computer that he knew I needed for my job. Another day, he’d left a few written sheets of paper on the kitchen table, labeled on the top the word “journal” with things written insulting things about me, and it was just stupid and child-like. I knew he’d done it facetiously, because that meant he’d actually read my journal, and this was his way of getting me back!

At this point, I needed to talk to someone about what to do to get him out. I could not afford to move again, and he was putting us through hell. I had my brother watch my child for for a couple of hours while I went for legal advice, but my appointment was taking a little longer than usual. I had asked my brother to put her to bed at a specified time, because she had school. But then Sparky showed up and decided to mess with my baby bear. Big mistake!! He’d turned the music up so loud and kept doing it while my daughter was trying to sleep. My brother was waiting for me to get home and tried to ask Sparky to turn it down, because she had to go to school, and Sparky told them that he would keep turning it up every night until we left. When my stepfather had heard about it, he went over to the house and threatened to beat Sparky’s ass. The police came and I reported what Sparky had done, because it was basically child abuse. It was a total shit show. I just wanted a peaceful home, just my baby girl and me and our kitties.

The next day, I paid a visit to the courthouse on my lunch break. I had been documenting everything, and I filed for a restraining order against him and asked for an emergency one, because it was a Thursday. His 3-page “journal” was also great for the evidence. I wanted him out before the weekend when the courts were closed. I wanted him out by the time I got home from work, but it didn’t happen until the following day. My request had been granted. He wasn’t allowed within 500 feet of the house, my work, or my baby bear’s school, nor could he contact me in any way.

Some things kept happening, like flat tires (which I couldn’t prove) – plus, Sparky was allowed to go back to my house and get his things. I enlisted some very willing friends to help me get his shit out of there and put it on the front patio so that he didn’t have to come in the house. The police had to escort him over, and he still insisted on coming into the house, and the police allowed him. I wasn’t allowed to see what he was doing. He was allowed upstairs alone – and he stole all of my bathroom items I’d just purchased (still had the receipt), toilet paper, all of my personal hygiene things (soap, shampoo, toothbrush, etc.), rubbed deodorant on the toilet seat, and a few other things I cannot remember. I was pissed that he was allowed upstairs alone for that amount of time. The officers told me that Sparky had said some pretty bad things about me, to which I replied that it didn’t surprise me and reminded them of who had to leave the home. A few days later I figured out he’d put itching powder (which is basically fiberglass) in my bra. I was getting ready for work when it happened when I noticed these little tiny shards of something and learned that it was itching powder. Again, I cannot believe he was allowed in my house like that after what he’d done.

Once it went to court, the judge awarded me the apartment, because I proved that Sparky was a psycho liar with a horrible temper. He actually wasted money on an attorney and lost his case. I proved everything with receipts and checks and a paper trail. He had nothing but a restraining order to stay the fuck away from me and leave me and my kid alone.

I haven’t run into him since, but people I know have. Like most of the people in my dating past, I don’t ever care to see him again. He was a disgusting individual with a cold heart, and I believe things could have gotten way worse had I not had a court order. I know a lot of women have experienced volatile situations like this, and when a child is involved, it makes it more difficult to leave. I’ve never put myself in another situation like that again. But he got married again and had a child. I cannot imagine that he’s changed, but I do hope for the sake of his wife and child that he’s improved somewhat and taken some accountability.

Final Goodbyes

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Since I last posted, each day has been a litany of emotions. Today has also been one of those days, because I witnessed a family member on her deathbed, and I am angry of the amount of undeserved suffering she’s had in this life while shithead people have not. With this event comes the knowing that I will probably see my father in the very near future, which is something I’m unsure I’m ready to deal with. But hey, it’s 2020, the most fucked up year in modern life, right?

(In the middle of all of this, I started training for new job that I found out I won’t have in two more months, a job that I’d been waiting on for several months, so this was unneeded stress, as well.)

The last time I posted, I briefly mentioned about people starting drama. Same people are also the type that constantly say they “don’t do drama” and even post it on their social media as if to prove it. Actions and words never seem to match with some, however, do they? This is probably the last time I will mention Biker Guy, and now I have a name for his female friend that he used to date – Bangs – (because a friend of mine said she needed bangs to cover her big forehead).

Bangs and I were chatting every so often about Biker Guy’s downward spiral that he’s supposedly “working on”, about men and dating in general, and miscellaneous things. I was busy last week and didn’t do much chatting, was minding my own business and clearing my head for the new job training. Suddenly, I got a text from Bangs with an unflattering selfie saying, “hey girl,” which I thought was really unusual, because she’s never sent me photos or spoken to me like we were best buddies.

In her photo, I could tell Bangs was on a boat and appeared drunk, so I asked if she was on a date. Her reply was to send me a photo of her and some kids and Biker Guy. I was like what the fuck??!! I asked her what this was all about and why did she send that to me?  She replied with a short video of herself and Biker Guy sitting close and eating in a restaurant. She looked wasted as hell, burped at the camera (someone else was taking the video). Of course, in my mind (also in the minds of everyone else that I showed it to), by the way everything was sent, it seemed like Bangs was rubbing in my face that she was with him and not me. Then she said they are together only as friends. Then she said “he’s a dick.” In the meantime, I was driving home in a storm during all of this and about wrecked my car. I was SO upset, I was shaking. Why in the fuck did she send me all of that???

Here I am minding my own business and trying to heal and move on with my life, so why was that necessary? I kept asking Bangs why, what was the point, what was she getting out of that, but I wasn’t exactly getting answers. I told her what a shitty thing she did, and when she sobers up she will realize what a shitty thing she did to a person that is already hurting and didn’t deserve that. Then I told her that I think they really do like each other, because if he’s such a dick, why do they spend so much time together? I took a screenshot of her messages, posted and tagged her on Facebook, and it stayed on her page for everyone to see for probably about 20 minutes. I ended it by telling Bangs they both deserve each other. And then I blocked that trainwreck.

I was DONE. I do NOT play games like that. Talk about drama! Then I texted Biker Guy, asked why in the hell they would start this drama, called him some names (specifically, a cocksucking motherfucker), said they deserved each other, said they could both rot in hell (except that I was voice texting and it came out “rotten hell” lmao), and then I blocked his stupid, shitty lying ass, so I have no idea if he bothered responding. (He’s a pussy, so doubtful.)

The entire incident made me wonder if they were both playing games the entire time and lying to me, if they were really more than friends the entire time, if he likes it when she’s drunk because maybe she’s easy and not “just friends” and well – he bangs Bangs – and if she was telling him everything I said to her (not that it mattered). I felt like I’d been played by two people, and it opened up something I hadn’t seen before: White trash, low class can kiss my ass!

Seriously, they can have each other! The entire incident was such a turn-off spiritually. I want no part of people that are spiritually dead and find entertainment in hurting others. It completely astounded me that a 50-year-old woman with grandchildren would play high school games like that, especially without probable cause. I really don’t think I have ever had that happen in my entire adult life. It really screwed up my night, because I barely slept at all and had to go to job training the following day. Not to mention, I am healing from all of this mess, so to have someone come in and throw a wrench probably took a toll on my immune system once again. I have been exhausted and not sleeping well as it is and realize I’m going through the grief process all over again. Breakups suck, and this added stress was total bullshit!

The only thing good that came out of this was realizing that I have been dating well below what I should be, and I need to stop being nice to everyone just because I was taught to be. Fuck that. It’s time to be nice to myself for once! Social distancing at its finest!

Beating Myself Up & Unsolicited Advice

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I started writing this the other day, but was interrupted 35 times and never had the chance to finish. This entire week has been shit so far, and today I start a new job that I hope goes well after not sleeping all night due to trashy people starting drama (that will be a separate post). My anxiety is through the roof, and without sleeping well all week, it’s starting to depress me.

The other day was an exceptionally emotional day, and I’m not sure why. I was literally on the verge of tears, and as I was sitting in a public place, I was afraid I might show that weakness. And I fucking hate crying in front of people. Maybe it’s because it was nasty rainy weather, or maybe it’s because the cat had woken me up at 4 a.m., and I hadn’t slept enough. Or maybe because I realized that Biker Guy received his letter, gave no reply (didn’t expect one anyway), and the reality of being used sunk in.

I ask myself a lot of questions, like how do other people just go on with their lives like nothing has happened? And how do people move on from one person to the next without feeling? And how are people so cold-hearted and uncaring? I tend to do a pretty good job of beating myself up over things, especially when I’m the one that should be ghosting men and breaking hearts instead of vice versa. Here are just a few of the things that run through my mind when this happens:

What did I do wrong? Did I say something wrong? Am I too weird? Did I do something that offended them? Am I too fat? Are my boobs too saggy? Is my (insert body part here) (insert adjective here)? Do I not make enough money? Do I smell weird? Do they not like my house? Did I not do enough for them? Am I fucked up and don’t recognize it? Am I crazy?

And then I go about comparing myself to others, which is total shit. Sure, I get compliments from people all the time about various things, whether it be about talent or looks. But looks do fade, and so far, my talents have barely kept my head above water, so I can’t be that special, right?

I have to constantly remind myself to stop doing this, because it’s not helpful, and the reality is this: The only thing I’m doing wrong is believing and dating dishonest, immature, low-class fucking asshole men that should consider themselves lucky to even spend one minute alone with me… men I should have never given the time of day. Men that I should have friend-zoned, and sometimes not even that, just “zoned” altogether and left them out of my life completely.

I know I have friends and acquaintances that read this blog, but a lot of these people think they know me just by reading it. What they don’t understand is that this is only one thin layer of this onion, and by only reading things someone writes doesn’t mean you know anything about them at all, especially when you don’t hang out in person. It annoys the shit out of me when people try to give me unsolicited advice based on what I write, because I’m not here for advice; I’m here for my mental well being to spew my anger and unhealthy thoughts, because I have nowhere else to direct my feelings. These thoughts are not who I am, but they are a part of my experiences. I never asked you to read this. Same people are surrounded with other people all the time and have a good support system when times get tough, so they have no clue whatsoever what it’s like to be alone buried in your own thoughts and feeling alienated from the world. So for those of you that like to give me unsolicited advice and tell me how to live my life: I never asked you. As a matter of fact, you only piss me off even more, because we don’t hang out in person – ever – so you can shove your advice. If you’ve never experienced what I have, then shut the fuck up and solve your own problems, because you’re certainly not helping me at all.

Was I Dating a Dirty John?

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Since my last post, I found out about a lot more lies that Biker Guy had told me and have come to the conclusion that I had a relationship with a Dirty John. While I was grieving this past week, alternating between anger and sadness, I did not communicate with him until he suddenly blocked me on Facebook for reasons unknown. The last time he blocked me, it was because he started dating another woman, so that is all I can assume. With what I’ve learned the past couple of weeks, nothing surprises me anymore, and it also wouldn’t surprise me if some really shockingly dark secret gets let out eventually in due time.

When I confronted Biker Guy in a text asking why he blocked me on Facebook, because I thought we were friends? … he ignored me. It both angered and hurt me all over again, because he knew how much it hurt me the last time he did that. It was deja vu of being blocked and ghosted, but the conclusion about that is the men that pull these tricks are self-centered, insecure, immature, and deserve no place in my life whatsoever. I should have been the one to block him, but I was still in mourning.

Today I discovered another lie when someone else’s photo popped up and showed Biker Guy sitting with his friends at a beachside bar on a Saturday in May. I’d realized he’d told me that he had to ride with his motorcycle club that day. Far from the truth. That happened to be Memorial Day weekend, another holiday in which he’d spent with his friends (including the woman that friend-zoned him) instead of me. He’d even asked his friends not to tag him in photos, gave them a lame excuse, and now we all know why. I realized it was around this time that I had started questioning Biker Guy’s intentions, that I was getting tired of spending my weekends alone, that I felt like I was his mistress, asking if his friends even knew that I existed. I specifically said, “Things aren’t sitting right with me, and I don’t know what it is.” I trusted my intuition, but since I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the hell was going on to end things, I kept it up for six more weeks.

I do not understand how and why a person would go to such extremes to lie to me, except that he’s a selfish, manipulative prick. I mean, what did he think he was going to gain by doing this? He’s lost me as a friend or anything else for that matter, and now the woman that friend-zoned him knows the truth. I’m sure he will easily move onto the next person and play the same game. In my case, it’s game over. I’m not playing anymore, and he’s the loser.

This weekend, I decided I had to get it all out on paper, and I spent several hours writing five pages of what I needed to say and mailed it to his house. It wasn’t for him; it was for myself, because this was my closure so that I could move on. I wasn’t about to let another asshole play mind games and destroy me. I’m hoping the letter arrives today, just in time for the New Moon, because now I am making a new life for myself all over again. Maybe I will publish the letter here at some point, but not right now.

In the meantime, I’m doing my best to take care of myself by doing something good for myself once a day. Whether I get a pedicure, take myself to lunch or dinner, or just take a walk or read a book at the beach (or all in one day!) – I am proactive about being kind to myself. By cutting out bad habits again, I’m eating and sleeping better, starting the day early and getting a lot done. I’m already feeling a weight off of my shoulders and optimistic about the future, because I am determined to be happy.

Most of all, next time something isn’t right in my gut about someone – even if I can’t figure out what it is – I’m going to run far away!

Another Bad Memory Triggered

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Spending holidays alone sucks, but like a lot of people, there have been times not dealing with family issues makes it better. Unlike most children, I dreaded the holidays most of the time, because they were so unpleasant. Here is an excerpt from chapter six of my book, Unheard:

The longer the holiday vacation, the more I dread it. For at least two weeks each December, a half of a week in November, plus a week during the spring, while everyone else looks forward to going on vacations, hanging out with friends, and having fun, I feel as if I am the only kid in the world wishing that I am still in school.

Before Marcus came along, I enjoyed the holidays. But with him around, there is sure to be an argument or other miserable time, listening to him complain and snark about everything, especially anything I do. It also means he drinks more. There are no parties, no friends, and no true laughter except to ridicule others. The only family gatherings I look forward to are at Gramma and Papa’s because it is the only time that I feel safe from Marcus’s barking at my every little move.

Another excerpt:

Sometimes holidays seem like they are going fine until Marcus says something to destroy the joy.

“Are you going to see your dad today?” Rose asks.

“Yes, I’m going to see Daddy and my other grandma later,” I tell her.

“Daddeeee,” Marcus mocks me in a snobbish, nasally tone, while he and his stupid stinky father and brothers laugh, as if I can’t hear them.

“Daddy buys her whatever she wants,” Marcus tells everyone.

That isn’t true at all. The truth is that Daddy buys me things for Christmas or my birthday that I need, like new shoes for church or a bicycle to ride to school. Just because he gives me nice things from the store instead of from the garbage doesn’t mean I’m spoiled. Marcus mocks me and says mean things about my Daddy because he knows it makes me furious. He does it at home when no one else is listening. He enjoys taunting me because I am his only witness, and he gets away with it because no one does anything about it. If I get mad or react, he calls me a brat and finds a way to punish me. I know he does it on purpose, but there is nothing I can do about it. He is sneaky.

Growing up, smaller holidays such as Labor Day and Independence Day, were just as bad, because it usually meant more drinking and more fighting and chaos, and for whatever stupid reason, I’d up getting punished somehow. So as an adult, I want to enjoy whatever I can to make up for it, and my family does not get together on these holidays at all.

Two years ago on the Fourth of July, I enjoyed myself by spending the day kayaking and watching fireworks – alone. While I really wished I had someone to share my day with, I tried to make the best of it. Last year on the same day, I was invited on a boat with a group of people, most of which I didn’t know. As a water lover, I jumped at the chance, because I rarely get to go boating. (It was also the last time I’ve been on a boat.) I attempted to enjoy myself as much as possible but ended up dealing with some miserable Mean Girls, then I met up with Biker Guy (we had met around that time) at a waterfront bar for drinks and fireworks.

This year due to Covid restrictions, most people I know made no plans, and city firework displays were canceled. However, people had private sky shows, which were really nice, and I sat at a beachside park by myself to view them, again wishing I had someone special with me while I watched families and couples around me enjoying their time together. (It’s a very odd feeling to be in public on a day like that when you’re alone, but it reminds you of who and what matters in your life.)

Once I’d learned the truth about how Biker Guy spent his evening without me this year, it
added to every shitty holiday I’d ever had. Again, I felt as if I was being “punished” for something I wasn’t even sure I’d done. I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it, and I still can’t, because he has no excuse for what he did. Although he apologized, I’m unsure as to how sincere it was in the beginning, and he can’t even explain his own actions.

To be continued…

Discovering a Betrayal is a Stab to the Heart

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Yesterday I’d written about Biker Guy and realizing I’m just an option to him, no matter how much he tries to convince me otherwise. Actions speak far more than any words.

On Monday, I’d taken a nice long walk on the beach to clear my head, and I told myself that I’m going to stop doing so much for him and do my own thing, because I felt like I was being used and not taking care of my own needs, and he wasn’t helping me in any way. I felt confident about my decision, and I told him I’m not happy with his behavior and I refuse to enable him, and that I’m perfectly happy being single if he doesn’t have time for me. Of course, he told me what women want to hear; I just needed physical proof this time. Also, in his accident from Saturday night, he’d received a ticket for leaving the scene, but it happened in front of his house, so I’m unsure what exactly occurred.

Then I stopped at a friend’s house for some “girl time,” so I could get some things off my chest. Biker Guy had texted me a lot while I was there (he does that when I’m “unavailable” for him). I’d also sent him a Facebook friend request, because after all, we’d been friends for an entire year, and if I’m going to be dating someone, I think we should be on each other’s social media pages at least. Once he accepted, I saw photos I had never seen before – many of him and the other woman he dated, and it made me resentful that out of all of the time I’d known him, I was never mentioned anywhere about anything, and it also appeared as if he’d made a lot of time to do things with her… so what was wrong with him doing the same for me? It made me feel like shit.

There were some other things that I questioned due to the timestamps on the posts – because last year when he was blowing me off, there are photos of them together. At that point, I decided it was time for me to contact this woman and find out her side of the story, because I wasn’t sure if he’d been telling me the truth. The good news is, he had been honest about them dating and breaking up during the times he said; however, she’d told me that he’d contacted her a few times wanting to hang out after she broke it off, and she reminded him that they were only friends. Now this really concerned me, because I didn’t know if he had been doing this while he was with me, if he’s playing us both trying to get laid or what the fuck is going on. It also explains why he begged me not to contact her weeks ago – because when he told me he was out “riding with the guys” he was with that group of friends. Why wasn’t I invited? I mean, he knew most of my friends and even my family, so what the fuck is going on here?

In the meantime, Biker Guy knew that I was sitting at my friend’s house talking about him and was texting me to come over. I told him no, that I wasn’t going to his house; if he wants to see me, he has to make the effort. Then I started questioning him about some of the things I’d seen, and at some point he said that he loved me, but I didn’t believe it. And then shit hit the fan.

The woman I’d contacted was very nice, and our conversation did ease some of my suspicions, which is why I wish I’d done it sooner (we are now friends on Facebook). Without me even asking, just in general conversation, she’d mentioned she’d seen Biker Guy on Saturday night with their friends. I asked this Saturday, as in the Fourth of July? I was not expecting her to say yes. I was shocked, because this was during the time he’d been texting me that he was fixing that truck. I asked what time, and he was sitting there at seven o’clock when she arrived. I was floored. Before I knew all of the details, I’d confronted him, and he said he went after fixing the truck, which was another lie, because I had timestamps for all of the texts! Not only that, but he’d told that same group of friends that he’d been fixing a truck all day when he was really with me! What. The. Fuck.

Biker Guy had texted me at 6:30 saying he was heading up to fix the truck. He’d continued messaging me about every hour saying he was still working on it up until 10:15pm saying he had another half hour or so and heading home, even still apologizing that he “had to work.” At 10:30 he’d had the accident, according to the police log – so he’d been sitting at the bar/restaurant the entire time while I was sitting alone watching private fireworks and wishing I’d been with the man I care about, all along thinking he was making a lot of money that he really needed to fix a fucking fictitious truck! He had made up a truly elaborate lie… for what? What reason?? If he didn’t want to be with me, then he should have just said something, and I’d have moved on. I still don’t know. I’m not sure I will ever know, because I haven’t seen him since.

At that point, I saw nothing but red. My friend was trying to talk to me, and I was in a rage inside my head that I couldn’t think straight. I was so angry, definitely more angry than the night I lost my shit on someone in public. I knew there was no turning back from that point on in this relationship, because if I do, then I’m enabling him to treat me poorly again. Besides, what trust I had built was demolished. I refused to go to his house to listen to his bullshit explanation, but I went full on psycho with text messages until late at night, called him every name in the book, and screamed so loud I’m sure my neighbors thought I was being murdered. Then I slept for a few hours, woke up and sent him more psycho texts. (I say “psycho” because there were numerous ones asking questions, telling him off, calling him names, etc. all day while he was at work. I would never threaten anyone, nor did I wish bad things.)

I did NOT deserve this treatment, and it made me physically ill to think I’d just made his breakfast that morning, went out of my way to do dinner we never got to have, not to mention the fact he’d had sex with me that afternoon before “going to work on the truck,” ditching me on a holiday knowing that anyone who truly loved me would have loved to be with me. I am sick over it, brokenhearted, no appetite, and I’ve had to drug myself just to get to sleep. My anxiety and depression that I finally had under control came rushing back. I feel as if I’ve been punched – no, kicked – in the stomach. I am forcing myself to eat, even if it’s a few bites of something, because the last time I got fucked over by someone I was in love with, I didn’t eat for four months.

I had and still have so many questions as to WHY he thought it was okay for him to do that. He was the last person I’d expect to do something like this, because we’d both recently been opening up to each other, and I was trusting him more. I felt closer to him than ever before, and that’s saying a lot, because I don’t get close to anyone. And then it was gone within seconds. Oh, and did I mention he had asked me to go to New York with him where his family lives? Yeah, so this was a huge blow that he’d ask me that but ditch me and lie about it to be with local friends.

He hasn’t found the time to explain anything to me, which is not a surprise at all, although what possible explanation could he give without creating more lies? This was an outright PLANNED lie, stringing me along, and it didn’t even allow me to make my own plans. Even writing about this now is making me feel sick and anxious inside. And just minutes prior to me finding this out, he tells me he loves me? I’m so fucking confused at this point, I don’t know what to think. More lies, more manipulation – and I deserved NONE of it!

When I was done being angry yesterday, I was driving home and suddenly, out of nowhere, the tears flooded. I bawled for a while, because I knew that it was over for good, and it hurt as if someone had died. It almost felt like I’d been cheated on, which is a horrible sinking stabbing in the stomach feeling. No matter how hard I had tried, he treated me like he hated me, like an option, like a friend with benefits – definitely not the way you treat someone you care about or “love” at all. I knew that not only was I having to start over not seeing him anymore, I’m having to heal all over again after him ghosting me and me forgiving that, except this time there won’t be a third chance.

The U.S. is a Shit Show & Social Distancing is Great

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I have so much to write about, so much going on in my head, but putting things into words lately has been difficult. I have dealt with some batshit crazy people in my life, but today’s world has put the icing on the cake. This is not the same country I served, and these modern times aren’t exactly what I had in mind when I joined the military. None of the goings-on in the world today are anything anyone from my generation ever expected. The complete lack of respect for anything or anyone has gone out the window. Teachers are wrong, cops are wrong, everyone and everything is wrong, but everyone else is to blame. There is zero accountability, and that’s what’s really scary.

Today’s media is the Enquirer of the grocery store check-out aisle – sensational news, false information, and clickbait – and it’s amazing how many people actually believe all of it without thinking rationally, only reading misleading headlines. Our country is a complete shit-show to the rest of the world, and god forbid any of us to have an actual opinion about it and express it without offending someone to the point they find out your address, hunt you down, and threaten your life.

The people of the United States are fucking insane. The entire country was first divided by political candidates, now add in mask-wearers vs non-mask-wearers and erasing white history vs keeping white history alive. People show their true colors behind keyboards, lifelong friendships ending over some of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen. And then there are the people that think it’s their right to tell you how to think and what to do, that if you don’t vote, you’re part of the problem, that if you do vote you must vote in their favor or else you’re a libtard, a repuke, or whatever other names insecure control freaks come up with. That if you don’t wear a mask to fend off Covid-19, you’re a horrible person trying to kill your grandmother. That if you do wear a mask, you’re falling into a trap of compliance for a hoax virus. If you agree with the tearing down of statues, you’re a horrible person that doesn’t understand history; if you don’t agree, you’re also a horrible person that doesn’t understand history.

No one is winning, so I sit back and think for myself, do whatever the hell I want, when I want, and how I want. And if someone doesn’t like it? They can kiss off. I don’t need the media or the government telling me what to do. I take most of it with a grain of salt and think for myself and do what I feel is best for me. I don’t feel the need to tell anyone my opinion unless I know we agree on things, because why start an argument? It’s not worth it. Plus, does my opinion really matter except to anyone trying to start something?

I have limited my time on social media and catching up with news just because I don’t care to see all of the negativity. It’s SO unhealthy! (Instead, I’ve been doing other unhealthy things, like not working out and eating cookies!) The best way to deal with this shit show is to work on myself and stay the hell away from people, because the only thing good coming out of this is social distancing!

Last Week, Bitches Be Crazy

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Last week was one that can totally kiss my ass. Besides dealing with lack of sleep, horrible allergies and migraines due to the weather, other potential health issues, dealing with crazy bitches made me want to hibernate in a dark corner and not speak to anyone – ever! It literally ended with me in tears that I’d been holding back and almost feeling that downward spiral of depression again. I don’t know if it was the full moon that also made people crazy last week, but holy hell, I started having flashbacks to junior high school bullies. I seriously felt attacked for no reason or incredibly stupid reasons that shed some light on how dumb people really are.

I do believe that social isolation brings out the worst in some people. Even people that I used to consider friends showed their batshit-crazy, narcissistic, attention-whore sides that do not deserve a place in my life. That is how my week began – and it happened to be over something completely stupid – a miscommunication in the beginning that turned into something else entirely. Without going into too much detail (because it was SO stupid it truly is a waste of time explaining), a so-called 13-year friendship ended just like that. I wouldn’t consider this person a close friend, but one in which we shared things in common, communicated and vented to each other about our personal problems and issues – the way women friends typically do. Other than that, I can now see that she was more of a “what can someone do for me” type of person. (As a matter of fact, I see this a lot in some of the people that I’ve distanced myself from.) So I asked myself the question, “Am I going to miss this friendship?” It only took me about two whole seconds to conclude that no, I will not, because true friends don’t treat people like they’re disposable over something so incredibly stupid. Besides, she is extremely vengeful with so much negativity and resentment within her, the toxicity looks like a smoking chimney. I don’t need, nor do I care about, being around dark energy, because it’s just gross, and this is also one reason I’ve avoided visiting her in person.

Everyone gets offended by the dumbest shit anymore, and no matter what good intentions are in place, someone will come around and make it into something it’s not without asking for an explanation – just jumping to the worst conclusions their sorry little brains can come up with. Social media is awful like that. There is a Facebook group in which people post crazy/weird things that people are selling, often making fun of things. Some things are truly comical, but other times I think people are just plain mean. A young woman was selling a crocheted item to wear, and there were a lot of body shaming comments. I happened to make the comment that it was cute if you’re a size zero. I wasn’t saying the woman in the photo should be a size zero (she was thin), I had meant it as if I were a size zero, because I have never been that size and not even close to it now. I meant nothing else by it except referring to myself, but oh-my-god! I had numerous notifications from my comment – got slammed for body shaming, called a bitch, told that my attitude was “I am a perfect size zero and everyone else should be too” – all coming from young women that didn’t understand my comment, and when I tried to explain my intention, it only became worse. These ignorant keyboard commandos jumped on the bandwagon just like kids do in middle school, and when I told them all to get a life and blocked them, I got banned from the group. Just like that. I was banned before I could remove myself, which really pissed me off, because I wanted to choose how I left. I had a few conversations with others in which we discussed how some of these Facebook group admins/moderators let everything go to their heads as if their group is really meaningful in the whole scheme of life. No, it’s not, especially when the posts are negative things and makes fun of people. Imagine if these moderators were given actual power in real life – they would fall before they could even rise to the second step of the ladder.

Then on Thursday evening, I noticed something on my leg that hadn’t been there before. It was small and round (about the size of the tip of a felt marker), raised, and appeared blackish. At first, I thought maybe it was a tiny tick or an ingrown hair, and when I squeezed it, blood came out. I was Facetiming with my daughter and showed it to her, and she freaked out saying that it was melanoma. I had to view it under a magnifying glass, and when compared to photos online of melanoma, it did appear very similar to skin cancer, so I was very worried.

The following morning, I emailed my doctor (a new one the VA assigned that I haven’t yet met). Instead of calling me, I received an email that I was being given yet another round of antibiotics – the second time in a couple of months this same doctor has prescribed them without seeing me in person and not actually needing them. I thought maybe they mixed me up with someone else, because antibiotics obviously don’t treat melanoma, and I needed to be seen. I emailed again asking what they were for, and I was told for a tick bite. Since it wasn’t the first or second time miscommunication via email with the VA clinic has happened, I questioned as to whether or not they were thoroughly reading what I sent and said I’m not taking another round of antibiotics, because I was just on them (also still causing stomach issues and depression). I attempted to call as to have better communication, was sent to the wrong line, stood on hold forever, called back and no one answered at all, which is typical of the VA system.

Well, I guess my email struck a nerve, because I finally got a call from the doctor completely bitching me out for questioning her reading my emails thoroughly. When I attempted telling her I think they mixed me up with someone else, called and couldn’t get through, she raised her voice and spoke over me that I didn’t explain myself, that nothing is wrong with the system (total bullshit!). While she was yelling at me on the phone, I raised my own voice and said, “I’m not going to argue with you, I know what I said in my email,” and she kept going. I came very close to hanging up on her and stopped listening. Shut down and felt helpless.

I was already upset from having a shitty week, not sleeping or feeling well, and worried I might have skin cancer, and for her to speak to me like garbage brought me to tears. She basically called me a liar, claimed I said nothing in my email about melanoma nor did I request to be seen, and I when I tried to say something must be wrong with the email system, she told me it was my fault, that it must be me and not the VA! Yes, that’s what she said, and I couldn’t believe it! Oh-my-fucking-god, you bet your ass I almost completely lost it on this woman! (I don’t know how long she’s been working for the VA clinic, but she’s not going to last long with that shitty attitude!)

I mean, it’s even in my “sent” folder for fuck sakes, and it literally reads in the subject line “Appointment: melanoma” with the attached photo – and shows as being “read.” She claimed she didn’t see melanoma anywhere, did not see where I requested to be seen, and did not receive a photo, and I told her the VA needs to update their system and fix it, because I know what I sent. She finally calmed down and said the clerks would need to call me to schedule the appointment to be seen. I get to meet her next week, and I’m not looking forward to it. I swear, if she says or does one thing during that appointment that I don’t like, I will get up and leave and request a different doctor and report her, because nobody deserves to be treated that way. I hate the fact that the doctor I’ve been seeing for two years is gone and I’m stuck with whomever they have available.

Later that evening, I ended up not sleeping again. It was the night of the full moon, and I was feeling extremely emotional. I had a really good, long cry, and it was what I needed, because I tend to hold things in until I explode. And then I slept. Hard. But at least I felt better.

Realizations About Suppressed Feelings

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Yesterday I posted the backstory and update about Biker Guy, but there is a hell of a lot more to talk about. After he contacted me the first time, I realized I’d written about him on here three times:

Getting Rejected By Male Friends
Blocked Again
Eye in the Sky

As I was reading, I felt a lot of emotions coming out that I didn’t realize I’d built up. I also realized that my feelings for him were stronger than I wanted to admit – something a couple of friends had pointed out. But at the time, I didn’t see it that way, because I knew deep down that a relationship between us would never work – for several reasons.

The several times Biker Guy and I got together, alcohol was involved. I just figured he was going through a lot with his wife’s passing, but currently, that behavior hasn’t changed. He mentioned something recently about his family and himself being alcoholics, which is something I’ve been steering away from. I was doing so well with social distancing and not going out, only getting together with friends for drinks maybe once a week, but not overdoing it. When Biker Guy contacted me, I found myself drinking more so than usual when he was around and feeling the changes in my body from it. Not good.

Biker Guy and I don’t seem to share the same interests. The only times we got together was having some food and/or drinks when he got off work, because as I stated before, he always had other things going on. I’m an outdoors person that likes to be active and enjoy nature. He enjoys motorcycles (which I’m not opposed to) and racing (no thanks) – and racing motorcycles, which I find to be extremely dangerous and outright stupid for men over 40. Getting him to do anything that interested me was nearly impossible. He was always getting invited by friends to go to parties and drinking events and bars, which is okay some of the time, but completely useless all of the time. I felt that he always needed company, always needed to be around people, and I’m the extreme opposite. So none of those things worked for my lifestyle or the lifestyle I wanted in a partner.

When I first met Biker Guy last year, he was pretty consistent in his contact with me, even initiating conversation most of the time – more than I was interested. Eventually, that dwindled down prior to me telling him we’d only be friends, before he ghosted me for three months. Recently when he contacted me, he was consistent at first, but now that’s changed again. He went from saying good morning or how is your day to not a fucking word, even when I have initiated a conversation. I’ve spent the past two Friday and Saturday nights home alone with my cat, because he was out with his buddies. This is the type of shit that confuses me and causes me to lose sleep. This is also why I feel happier being single and alone with my cat without mind-fuck interference and setting myself up for disappointment.

Last weekend we made plans to go to the beach on Sunday. (This was after me telling him he can never plan anything with me and why I told him in December we can’t be more than friends.) I got up early on Sunday to prepare food and get things together, but I didn’t hear from him like I expected. He woke up late, because he’d been with his friend the night before drinking shots of moonshine. Fucking moonshine. We finally made it to the beach, but I could tell he was feeling super hungover and wasn’t hydrating at all. Instead, he started drinking beer by noon. He was on his phone a lot, which annoyed me, because when I spend time with someone, it’s with them, not their phone, and we never got to talk about anything that I wanted to talk to him about. Then he started saying his friend wanted him to help him do something, and I said well we’re at the beach, tell him you’re busy. It’s like he can’t just spend time with me alone without anyone else around. How the hell do you get to know the real person inside like that? You don’t.

In the meantime, a couple of my friends he hadn’t yet met were at the beach practically right next to us. We sat with them and chatted a bit, then Biker Guy tells me his friend that needed help is having a party, and he pretty much tells me we are leaving the beach without even asking me if I wanted to go. I had the feeling either way he was going with or without me. I was super annoyed, especially having waited for him all morning to get his shit together. We did end up going to the friend’s house, which was fine, because I ended up seeing people I knew that I hadn’t seen in years.

The following week when I couldn’t get him to hold down plans, I told Biker Guy that I feel that I’m an option when nothing else more interesting is offered to him. We were supposed to talk about it yesterday, but something always comes up. That is probably the most consistent thing about this entire story. This time, one of his biker buddies crashed and died in an accident the night before, and they had all been out together. Super sad situation. We texted back and forth, he said he was going to get back to me later about food that I was making… not a fucking word. And as of this writing, not a fucking word. I absolutely cannot have a relationship like this, especially not one that includes intimacy (another post to come about that), something I’ve already told him.

So why do I have feelings for someone that I know would never work out, would never meet the qualifications I desire in a partner, and treats me like an option? I suppose this has something to do with how I’m treated within my family, how I was brought up – what I learned as a child. But I need to figure this shit out, because I can’t keep having these types of relationships of any kind with people.

Lockdown Update & Thirsty Men

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With most people at home for now, it’s mainly been quiet. It’s almost like a flashback to 1990-something before my area was too crowded and overdeveloped with traffic. And I love it! However, all of that is about to change, because Florida is about to open back up. If money wasn’t an issue, I’d like it just fine the way it is.

Because of the Covid-19 shutdowns, I figured I’d have written way more than I have. Hell, I should have written my next book by now! However, I have done some much needed healing both physically and emotionally, catching up on sleep and removing toxic people out of my life, and catching up on some personal and work projects. I have been extremely content with being isolated during this pandemic. In fact, I’m loving it! I haven’t experienced any depression and very little anxiety (mainly just needing exercise). I’ve even managed to meditate a few times, and now I realize that I have been surrounding myself with untrustworthy assholes and going to places that are spiritually damaging and dark, which I feel has contributed to so much of the depression I’ve been writing about. Visiting family or friends and/or getting out once a week is just enough for me.

During all of this, there are certainly some thirsty men out there that I’ve been either avoiding, rejecting, or just disinterested in a text conversation. I am worth more than being there for someone for their entertainment when they have nothing else to do. If they can’t hang out with me or be a friend in real life or we don’t have a business interest, I’m not interested in wasting my time. There are too many good books to read for that!

In the meantime, I’ve run into a few people unexpectedly. I’m pretty sure I saw Toe Ring Guy’s truck pass my house one day, and I know I passed him on the street just prior to the lockdown. He does live nearby, however, I don’t want to see him on my street.

I ran into King Nothing a few times, and we’re cordial. (I think he secretly loves being called King Nothing, because he loves attention.) Another guy I went out for sushi with once (not a date, since there was no interest on my part) sent a text after months of silence. Someone else was trying to hook up, and I just wanted to be alone. A few random local guys on Instagram are also attempting to make conversation. God forbid I post a selfie, because that just makes them send DMs.

This piece of shit sent me a message on POF without realizing who I am; I ignored him.
I saw the back of Mr. Volatile on a beach walk one day – and he sent me a message on POF again without recognizing me. I told him he needed to stop lying about his age, so he blocked me. That was definitely a good laugh.

And then I heard from my (close) friend that hadn’t talked to me in three months. The one that was supposed to fix my car. The one that helped me during my surgery last year. The one that suddenly started seeing someone right after the holidays. But that is another post altogether.

As I’m writing this, my phone dings a text from a number I don’t recognize. I ask who it is. It’s someone I’ve known since high school that has a tendency to show up every couple of years. It’s 11 p.m. That will also be another blog post or two…

Right now my biggest concern is keeping healthy both physically and mentally, and I feel that keeping myself away from most people is key to succeeding at that. I enjoy company and good conversation without anything difficult, so I’ve been sticking with family and female friends as to not complicate things. Although I feel like a stereotype for doing so, I enjoy time with my cat more than most people… has life really come to this?

No Coronavirus, but Still in Quarantine

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Today is the first day I’ve felt mostly normal in two weeks. I’ve been cooped up in my house with a head cold and back injury all at once. The head cold is pretty much gone, but allergies are really bad right now, so sometimes it’s hard to tell what is what. One thing definitely caused by allergies when I go outside is my throat closing up to the point that I nearly lost my voice. I’m just trying to determine what is actually going to kill me in the long run.

Two weeks ago I hurt my back from picking up a bag of soil and twisting at the same time. It became progressively worse to the point that I could barely walk, could hardly bend, and doing daily tasks have been extremely difficult. Today I managed to do very little of an online yoga class, because spasms took over. Not only am I frustrated, because I cannot physically do what I need to, but the head cold and medication cause mental blockage to the point I can’t concentrate. Now I am two weeks behind in getting anything done, which exacerbates anxiety.

The only time I’ve been in this much pain is right after a major surgery – and yes, it hurt that bad. I guess I’m used to healing quickly and getting back to normal life, except this time it ain’t happening on my terms. It hasn’t even been a year yet since I had the first surgery and not even 6 months since the last one, so my body’s healing ability has been in overdrive, and I’m sure getting older has a lot to do with that. This is another reason I’ve chosen to socially distance myself, because I’m more prone to catching something, and I’ll be damned if some batshit virus is going to take me out.

With all of that going on, insomnia kicks in when I’m in pain. I literally had to roll over to get myself out of bed, because sitting up was not an option. I’ve been taking 600 mg of ibuprofen, but I don’t think it works well. Muscle relaxers help a little to sleep, but otherwise they make my head feel loopy.

The pain was the exact same way I felt right after surgery, when the CO2 gas was working its way upwards out of my body. I cannot imagine living like that for long, because it’s pretty excruciating. I am not rested well, which of course isn’t helping the healing process, and having a head cold on top of it makes it slower to heal. I’ve been going to bed at a reasonable hour and waking up around midnight or other early a.m. hours, unable to get back to sleep for a few hours at a time. Sometimes I don’t get to sleep until the sun is coming up, so my entire morning is screwed up.

I know I’ve been dreaming a lot, and I should be writing them down. Last night I finally slept decently and dreamt. But now for the life of me, I cannot remember what the dreams were about. Right now I wish I had someone to rub my feet, feed me, and tell me I’m pretty. HA! Wishful thinking.

Why I Reject Religion – Part 2

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The same house with the same people that I posted about yesterday that were trying to get the devil out of me when I was in my mid-20s (Part 1 of Why I Reject Religion) – this is part of what I remember as a kid, from Chapter 9 of my book Unheard:

“Our church is called The Four Squares. It’s a small Pentecostal church, the same one where Daddy met Bianca. I think Four Squares is a dumb name for a church, but I figure it has something to do with the family of four that runs it. I have to attend church every Sunday morning, Sunday night, and Wednesday night.

Gertrude, Bianca’s mother, goes to our church. I have to spend a few days with her while Daddy and Bianca spend some time together alone. Gertrude is an overweight lady with pretty skin, and she constantly preaches about the Lord. She yells and cries for no reason, calling for Jesus and praying to him to save her marriage from her unfaithful husband. Her yelling and screaming scares me at times, especially when she tells me that the devil is inside of me. That’s only if I say or do something she doesn’t like. More than anything, that makes me mad, and I feel like telling her the devil must be in her since she yells and scares kids away.”

For a child to experience this is pretty frightening. It’s like using the boogie man to scare children, but instead they use their god and hell and damnation. The thing is – I always questioned everything, but their answers never made sense. For example, I asked about dinosaurs not being in the Bible. I can’t recall the answer I was given at the time, but it didn’t make sense. I asked about timelines and relevant things that were contradictory in the Bible, but every answer I was given was also contradictory or made into some other uneducated explanation. I asked about children dying or people getting cancer, and I was told that was God’s will, which wasn’t an acceptable answer for me either. And this is a good one – why do women have to serve men? Because that shit didn’t fly with me, even when I was a child. Nothing made sense to me whatsoever, and I thought that “God” sounded like a total misogynistic, selfish asshole. By the time I was a teenager, I had made up my mind that church was not a place I ever care to go. If you’ve never experienced something like this in life or as a child, let me tell you – it’s not only weird, it’s pretty damn creepy! But not as creepy as what I’m about to share.

A girl I’d been friends with since fourth grade lived down the street from me. Her parents were very strict Christians, and even being only about nine years old, I noticed some very strange behavior. One thing was her older brothers pissed their beds (I believe they were either in high school or close to it), and looking back, that is a sure sign of abuse, whether physical or sexual. My friend was rarely allowed to play outside much, but sometimes I was allowed over when their father was there. Now this is where it gets really weird, and today I am 99.9% sure he was a goddamn pedophile. From Chapter 1 of Unheard:

“[My friend] was never allowed at my house, and I stopped going to hers when I was ten because her father kept making me sit on his lap, facing and straddling him as he held me close. He gave me the creeps. When I tried to scoot away he forcefully continued to pull me forward. He also liked to hug me a lot, which I also thought was creepy. I wasn’t used to hugs much from home, but I knew that my grandparents never hugged me like that. I knew in my stomach that something was wrong about it.”

Around the time I wrote and published my book, I was getting in touch with old friends on Facebook, including the friend mentioned above. I’m pretty sure she read the book but didn’t know if I’d written about her, because I kept her details and identity fairly private. I know she was going through a lot of her own difficulties, and at one point she did ask me about her father holding people too close, mentioning that people thought it was weird. She made some excuse about his actions, but I wasn’t buying it. I am certain that man probably did a lot of disgusting things to children.

These people that I had experience with in the religious sector had to be some of the craziest, sickest people a child could be forced to interact with. To this day, the only time you will see me in church is for a wedding or a funeral. But this still isn’t the end of my church stories just yet.

Pain, Allergies, & Being Alone

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I’ve been having those feelings again. Slightly depressed, but perhaps it’s because I haven’t been sleeping as well, and I’ve been in a lot of pain lately. I did something to my back somehow, attempted yoga to stretch it out, but it made it worse. Went to the chiropractor, which helped, then I picked up a bag of potting soil the wrong way and screwed up my back again, so that has been an issue.

Some of the pain is caused from allergies. Besides the typical allergy issues of runny nose and itchy eyes, it affects my entire body as if every muscle or my blood is inflamed and poisoned. The only way I can describe it is like a burning sensation throughout my entire body, as if I drank bleach or something caustic – similar to that achiness the body gets having the flu. The only thing does seem to help is alcohol, believe it or not. So I’ve reverted to binge drinking on those days, which of course doesn’t help other issues. I feel like it’s a no-win situation.

Unfortunately, my only option to treat allergies with the VA is to take Claritin, which only solves some of the issues. Allergy shots would require me to drive 70 miles one way 3x a week for several months, which is just not going to happen. I’ve looked into alternative measures that sound promising, and at this point, I’m willing to try ANYTHING to resolve this miserable issue, but the affordability is another problem, just like everything else in this country’s shitty healthcare system.

When I sleep well and I’m not in pain, I feel like I can conquer the world, and it seems like I’ve been dealing with this my entire life. I vaguely remember “always” feeling good for days at a time, a very brief amount of time, and that’s a pretty shitty way to live. Stress has a lot to do with it, I’m certain. Feeling like this gives me no self-confidence in anything I do or anything I am striving towards or anything about life in general. I feel like if I died tomorrow, who cares? I don’t. It would probably be a relief rather than feel this way. (That is NOT a statement that I plan to hurt myself, so back off!)

This whole coronavirus thing is out of control, but since I’m already alone 99% of the time and avoid crowds most of the time, it doesn’t seem to affect me much. What it does affect, however, is the next job I’m waiting to start, because now everything is on hold.

I definitely haven’t been wanting to be around people anyway due to the anxious energy in the air, because it gives me anxiety, too. I feel everyone’s energy, and I don’t like it, because most of it doesn’t feel very good to me. I need to be around calming or creative energies – or just be alone. I feel like all of the good energy has been sucked out of me from the shitty people I’ve allowed in my life.

The only invitations I’ve had since the beginning of the year involve drinking. I went out a few times, but other than that, I’m bored with that lifestyle and end up hating the fake people I meet from it. While it’s fun to interact at times, I get burned out extremely fast, not to mention it’s unhealthy overall.

I haven’t been on an actual date in about a year (**when I say “date” it means with the intention of something beyond friendship**), and that last experience has left me not wanting to put any effort into dating. That was the last straw of dating for me, because I can’t stand another second of wasting my time on liars and people that add absolutely nothing but bullshit to my life. I don’t trust anyone, and I have no desire to make new friends or meet anyone new. I feel that saying hello and being cordial is enough for me right now.

The person I thought was one of my best friends has pretty much ghosted me, but I shouldn’t have been surprised at all after I had surgery and she couldn’t bother to ask how I was doing. I see clearly now that she was a terrible friend and only around when she needed someone. She’s also part of a group of women that act like middle schoolers, which I want no part of. And after my friendship with my male friend that hasn’t spoken to me since the end of January, why bother putting effort in getting to know anyone if they’re just going to ditch me without any closure, without anything but hurt feelings and lies – with nothing more than reminders of the abandonment issues I can’t seem to shake?

I realize I have always felt this way. I have always felt extremely alone in the world, and no matter how many people may surround me, I still feel alone. I feel like an outcast. I feel unloved. I feel like nothing I do matters, so I just go along trudging through each day until my time is up on this planet. I have always felt like there is no one out there for me, and even though I’ve had long-term relationships and marriages, I have always settled for something less than what I really wanted, because there was absolutely nothing that even resembled what I wanted. I am thinking that maybe I’m just a dreamer and nothing that I want exists on earth.

All Frogs and No Princes

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Last night I noticed a frog in my bathroom. He was quite large, and it was getting late, so I left him alone figuring he’d find his way out eventually. Then I forgot about all about him. Around 2 a.m., I heard a knocking or thumping sound, checked to see if anyone was at my door. Nothing in sight, I went back to bed. This morning I heard another knocking at my back door, got up and saw it was the frog trying to make his way out. Later on, I noticed my bathroom mirror had little marks all over it, which were his tiny little footprints. I suppose that’s what I was hearing at 2 a.m.

Frog symbolism means a few things – particularly transformation, since it goes through different stages of metamorphosis. I suppose this resonates with me, body, mind and soul, because of currently going through all three of those changes.

I realize I need to take better care of my body, because I’m not getting any younger, and I don’t heal as quickly as I used to. Allergies have been worse over the years, so cutting out certain things is something I need to try to build up my immune system again. A few weeks ago I went to my doctor to discuss some changes that didn’t seem normal to me; however, she told me these things are normal as women age. I said, “So basically, women have nothing to look forward to in life?” – because that’s exactly how I felt. She said pretty much – we go through a series of changes throughout our lives and always seem to have issues. What the fuck.

Meditation has helped me in the past, but a problem I have is when the routine is disrupted. I started meditating regularly several years ago and not only did I notice a huge difference in how I felt, I manifested things that I never imagined possible. Then my life picked up and changed dramatically, and I had difficulty getting back into it. It probably didn’t help that my partner didn’t meditate or have any interest in my spirituality (at that point I realized we had nothing in common, which was spiritually draining). I started meditating again recently, but something interrupted my daily routine, and I stopped. I kick myself for doing this!

Spiritually, I feel that I’m changing again, and I’m aware that I need to make a lot of changes. When I was younger, I would set my mind to something and just go for it, no matter what. I’m not exactly sure what happened, but I stopped having goals except for getting through each day and making rent each month, and my focus was completely off. I’m sure my health issues had a lot to do with that, but I think they’re manageable now, and keeping toxic assholes out of my life certainly helps! I pretty much gave up my dreams in life for various reasons, but now I’m ready to make things happen again. Perhaps I should make a vision board so I can better focus and meditate on what I have always dreamed of in life.

A last note on frogs – I am utterly bored out of my mind with online dating, like usual. I still have my POF profile, and since I was traveling recently, decided to change my location to see what options were out there. It seems like all frogs and no princes. I have no desire to converse with anyone that messages me, no profiles stick out for me, and organically, no one in my area interests me whatsoever. I suppose this is also part of my spiritual growth.

You’re Not Invited, So Mind Your Own Damn Business

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Something I do is mind my own business, because that’s how I like to be treated. People have a habit of telling me their issues, but other than that, I don’t really care what others do as long as it doesn’t affect me. Living in a small town, people know your business – or think they know it – because that’s how small-minded places are. I experienced this when I lived on a small island years ago, and I have a feeling it has or may be happening again, thanks to jealous and/or gossiping bitches with boring lives (that will be an entirely new blog post).

On the island, there were people that loved to involve themselves in others’ lives that they truly knew nothing about, including mine – and it was all surface-level b.s. People see things and assume things and make it a topic of conversation amongst their shallow group of friends. How fucking pathetic. Some of the things that were assumed about me included being on drugs (no idea how that assumption developed) and sleeping with men that I never did anything with – and this was because after having been mugged one night, I’d always have someone walk me to my car. Just for that, it was assumed I went home with the guys! Fucking ridiculous! (And even if I had, it’s still no one’s business anyway.) The person that started that crap was one of my ex-husband’s best friends, but that was prior to me meeting him. When we did meet, she “warned” him about me. Warned him about what? !! The bitch had never even had a conversation with me and was one of those people that could never look me in the eye, even after we were married. Definitely no one I ever trusted! There was another person that I briefly dated there that also made shit up and would go around telling people, when the truth was, he had a lot to hide himself. Gossipers are the epitome of get a life and stay out of mine!

Months ago I was out with a male friend and his best friend’s wife when a young woman walked in wearing a super tight dress. The best friend’s wife decided to talk shit about her, saying it looked terrible on her, why is she wearing that, and general insults for no other reason except for her own insecurity. I think the young woman may have been pregnant, but I said to the friend’s wife, “Who cares? Seriously. Who really cares what she is wearing? Who really cares what anyone else is doing if it doesn’t affect us? It doesn’t matter. I don’t care to have this discussion about other people that I don’t know,” which abruptly ended the conversation. My male friend thought it was funny that I put her in her place, because I guess he didn’t care to hear it either.

Someone else that I interact with on occasion makes it a point to ask me extremely personal questions that are none of her damn business. If she took the time to read my blog, some of her questions might be answered, but a lot of her questions are things no one has the right to ask. For example, asking how much money I make is none of her business. Neither is asking very specific questions about my spiritual beliefs or sex life. If I feel the need to tell someone something, I’ll tell them or I’ll write about it, but other than that, mind your own damn business!

I have a frenemy that often talks shit about people, including me, but I have no issue returning the favor right to her face – because that’s the type of relationship we have. But when she starts making shit up about me and changing stories to make me look bad, then I have an issue, and that’s when I have to set her shit straight. Besides, she does her own fair share of making herself look like a dumbass in front of people and has burned many bridges because of it – but that’s on her.

This is probably another reason I stick by myself and avoid groups, especially groups of women. Some of the cattiest things come out of their mouths, gossiping about other people and then turning around pretending to be best friends. Oh, hell naw to that! I put an end to that shit in sixth grade, and I’m not living it again. Grow up already! If I have something to say, I will say it to your face or write about it and then send you the link (which I’ve done with some of my blog posts). Other than that, stay the hell out of my business!

Bye-Bye High-Five Guy

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The other day I posted about saying bye-bye to people pleasing. Of course, as soon as that happens, the universe throws me a test.

I received a text from a male acquaintance asking me to go out for drinks or food. I told him I wasn’t going out, so he offered to bring me food. I had him order a sandwich, then I regretted it when he got here, because I remembered how he yell-talks right in my ear and he has to be told to stop yelling. We’d only hung out maybe three times over the last several years, and each time out in public drinking – when my senses are totally off. This was my first time being sober around him, but I’m unsure how much he’d had to drink.

The last time we’d had a conversation, I had a serious talk with him about some of the things he was doing and how he’s not going to find a decent girlfriend if he continues. I guess he took that to heart, because he’s currently making some changes. However, I think he’s wanting me as his girlfriend, because he started saying things like “Let’s go on a cruise, I’ll pay for it.” And “I don’t have any friends” – What?? And “If we ever got married…” What!!! Yikes! No thank you! I wasn’t aware of it until now, but he also lives with his mother, and he said he’s saving to buy a house and his mother will be living there, too, so he needs to find a woman that can accept that. Well, good luck!

In the meantime, we ate our sandwiches, he’s yell-talking in my ear a foot away from me, and every time he said something he’d say, “high five,” and put up his hand to high five. Me being my bluntly honest self, I was like what??? This is dumb, and I’m not high-fiving you anymore. (I will nickname him High-Five Guy.) Then he started talking inappropriately about sex and his dick – and besides the fact I’m over surface-level conversations – I told him I didn’t want to hear it. Whenever I would attempt to change the subject, he would interrupt and loudly speak over me, and I told him it was really rude. And then I guess he got offended when I asked him to throw his food container away, because he said something about him being a guest and that’s my job… whoa! I told him I wasn’t his mother or his maid, and my guests need to clean up after themselves. That’s when he said he was going outside (backyard) to smoke a cigarette.

I was doodling on some art when I realized High-Five Guy been gone for a longer time than usual, so I went to see what was going on. He wasn’t there. I checked out front, and his car was gone. I was not disappointed whatsoever and also relieved, but I wanted to find out what happened, so I sent him a text:

“Why did you leave and not say anything? I thought you were out back smoking. That’s fucking weird.” He said he was insulted. I said “What are you talking about? Instead of just taking off you should have probably said something. I mean come on, we are not in sixth grade.” He said every time he said something he said something wrong. He can’t win. Whatever. I told him “We have different personalities and energies, and it is what it is, thanks for the sandwich, have a good night!”

When I got up the next morning, he’d sent me a text at 5am saying how he’d brought me dinner and that he’d never been treated so poorly in his life. Then he ended it with this, “if u don’t change your ways a bit u will never get a good man. just a piece of advice. u have talked to me that way a few times now. nobody that has self worth would tolerate being talked to like that. no hard feelings but u have to be honest. I wish u luck.”

Here’s the thing – I still don’t have a fucking clue what he’s talking about, the way I talked to him? By asking him to clean up his shit and throw it in the garbage? By asking him to please keep his voice down? And tell him I didn’t want to have a conversation about sex? This is what I sent back:

“Wait a minute – who is rude? Who left without saying anything? That’s crazy and weird, not to mention completely immature. Is asking you to keep your voice down treating you poorly? I have elderly neighbors next door and you are extremely loud. The fact that everything I tried to say you interrupted me and spoke over me was very rude. That is not the type of company that I prefer in my home. It’s actually very disrespectful. Like I said, I think we are just different personalities and different energies. I’m not here to kiss somebody’s ass and serve them like a maid for bringing me a sandwich. I don’t need a man at all and a good one would show a lot more respect in my home. Good luck to you as well. Speaking of respect sending me this stuff at 5am is another issue.”

I find it funny how some men always refer back to “you’ll never find a good man!” when in fact, those are the same ones that act childish and still live with their mothers. I’ll take being alone for the rest of my life over having to put up with that… and I’ll even high-five to that!

Saying Bye-Bye to People Pleasing

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I was reading a young woman’s blog post about her being a people pleaser, and it’s something that came up as a topic in one of my counseling sessions last year. I believe the discussion had to do with staying in relationships longer than I should, because I didn’t want to hurt the other person. I feel that’s what you do with the people you love, whether it’s a romantic relationship or a friendship. I was always taught to stick through things, even when you’re miserable, because things will eventually work out. I’m not sure that’s accurate, because it’s never worked!

That’s when my counselor told me I was a people pleaser. Although I’d never really thought of myself as one, it makes sense as to what I have experienced in all types of relationships. I am slowly learning and making changes, but undoing something you’ve been doing for most of your life isn’t easy! I recall finding myself catering to men I dated without getting anything in return – often hosting, cooking, cleaning up everything – you name it. What the fuck was I thinking? As far as friends go, I would be a shoulder to cry on, but when it was my turn, those same people weren’t there. The thing is – I enjoyed doing that for someone I cared about or loved. I treat the people I care about the way I want to be treated, even if I am being taken advantage of, and I’ve had enough of that shit!

I resonate with most of this article from Psychology Today, “Are you a people pleaser?” Neglecting myself by serving others’ needs before my own? Check. Fear of rejection? Check. Resentment when I don’t feel appreciated or feel like I’m giving more than the other person? Check. This is another thing I have to work on, because being taken advantage of is a really awful feeling. Usually, once I realize someone is taking advantage of me, it’s a little late and a lot of resentment has built up by that point – and once I get to that point, I’m over the relationship. But I’d rather see the signs prior to that point.

I do believe I’ve gotten better over time, especially the last couple of years in romantic relationships, friends, and jobs. Now I don’t feel the need to make dinner for a man to please him if he doesn’t do something in return, and I’ve limited friendships with people that haven’t been there during times of need. Unless I’m working for myself, when it comes to jobs, I do what is in the job description and nothing more. There is no need to burn myself out again trying to please others that will do nothing more than move on to the next person when I stop giving.

Answers After Abandonment

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I just reread a post I wrote about a year and half ago about dealing with abandonment issues that stemmed from my childhood and how this is a recurrent theme in my life. I am still trying to figure out what it is about my choosing of people that are inclined to abandon or ghost without explanation. Sometimes I do get explanations, although they may be months or years down the road. Other times, I have to suck it up and realize that some people are just cowardly assholes and I’m better off without them.

I recall the time when I was in the army and received a letter from the ex-boyfriend that I’d lost my virginity to. Initially, I was shocked at receiving anything from him at all, as it had been about two years since I’d seen him, and I was far beyond over him. I can’t remember everything the letter said, but he’d apologized for treating me like shit, told me how beautiful I was, and said something about me looking like Mariah Carey (which made me laugh – must have been the hair!). Years later, he attempted to date me again, but that wasn’t happening; I don’t repeat the same mistakes with the same person.

Most “abandonment” that happened pre-internet was just what it was, and I believe it was easier to move on, because there was no communication available if someone moved or changed phone numbers. Out of sight, out of mind. People would just wonder what happened to that person until their class reunion. But today, there is no excuse – or maybe poor excuses – like the one “friend” that suddenly quit talking to me, because she blamed me for working in a place where her ex knew people and some other lame-ass excuse. That was total bullshit, and I realize now so was our “friendship.”

What I don’t need in my life are fair-weathered friends. We all go through things in life that are inevitable and difficult to deal with – sickness, death, divorce, etc. It’s another thing if the issues are just drama type of bullshit that can be avoided, but if someone else can’t handle the problems you never invited them into in the first place, that’s on them. What’s really shitty is when you’re at your worst place and you get abandoned by those you thought had your back, especially when you would never do that to them.

With that being said, I had a male friend that I’d known since my days in the military, and about three years ago, he suddenly disappeared. I knew he was taking a break from social media, but I did have his email and phone number. I also knew he’d had some health issues, so I was truly concerned for his well-being, especially since I hadn’t heard from him and my emails and phone calls went unanswered. It was really out of the norm for him not to keep in touch at all. But then I happened to log into an old Facebook account where we were still “friends,” so I messaged him asking how he was, excited to get back in touch, because I truly enjoyed corresponding with him most of the time. Immediately, I was blocked. I thought how fucking bizarre and dramatic is this? I thought maybe he’s dating someone, and he can’t be friends with other women. Later, I was unblocked so that he could send me a very lengthy message describing in detail how he blocked a bunch of people a few years ago that weren’t adding positivity to his life. Ummm, okay, that’s understandable, but I’m not exactly sure how I fit in there, being that we live 3000 miles apart. He added something about the drama in my life, which wasn’t drama at all – I had a family member with cancer, and around that time a close friend had died. That’s not drama – that’s life! But what I really think happened is this – since we’ve known each other, he’d wanted a romantic relationship with me, and I wasn’t interested. I recall probably telling him a little too much about my personal dating life, and I honestly think he was jealous. I mean, I understand if I wanted someone romantically and they were rejecting me, but the reality of it is we’d never get along in that type of relationship anyway, not to mention the distance. Besides, I didn’t drag him into my “drama” or whatever you might call it; he tends to do that himself with other people’s business. Either way, at least I found out the truth behind the matter, and he seemed very sincere about it, which is a lot more than I can say for other people in my life who have done the same type of thing.

Am I guilty of ghosting anyone? Absolutely! But there is a difference when you’re not getting along with the person or you’ve had a falling out rather than just never speaking to them again without warning. I wish there was an abandonment meter when meeting someone, because it is truly heartbreaking when it happens, and I would definitely avoid those types of people. It’s completely unfair and selfish, not to mention immature, to abandon someone close to you without warning or explanation, and it says a lot about that person’s character.

Depression and Antibiotics Linked

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The other day I recalled reading something about intestinal flora and moods, and the possibility that an imbalance can cause depression. For me, this would make a lot of sense. Two years ago I had pneumonia and was on some really strong antibiotics. In the past year, from surgeries and other illnesses, I have been on antibiotics five times! This would explain my lack of appetite and food craving changes, not to mention the constant influx of depression.

During my research, I learned that the first antidepressant was an antibiotic, back in the days when tuberculosis was a big thing. The next thing I learned was that antibiotics can affect a child’s brain development. There have also been studies that antibiotics may contribute to types of psychosis and is associated with anxiety and depression. Due to antibiotics killing off all of the bacteria in the body (both good and bad), it really messes with the good bacteria responsible for sending signals to the brain.

I truly think this is another link between the horrible and constant depression I’ve experienced over the last couple of years, mostly because I just don’t feel like the same person I did three years ago. It was easy for me to bounce back out of anything, especially a relationship gone awry.

I have noticed that I definitely feel better both physically and mentally when I ingest probiotics regularly. Besides taking probiotic oral supplements, I make kombucha, which is a natural probiotic drink. However, I haven’t made any in the past few weeks and have been relying on the probiotic capsule. Now that I’m finally off antibiotics again, I’m going to continue with probiotics and see how this fairs with my mental health.

Feeling Worthless & Random Thoughts

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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?

Cutting Back on Alcohol

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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.

Lack of Sex & Depression

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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.