Moody Man Strikes Again

Yesterday I posted the backstory about Moody Man. I received a text around 11 p.m. one night from a number I didn’t recognize: “Hey stranger.” Before I knew who it was, I was annoyed that someone whose name was not even in my phone was texting me at that hour, because I was working intently on something and it disrupted my thought process. When I asked who it was, Moody Man identified himself. Supposedly, he was having beers with his friend and my name came up. (Can’t even imagine why, since I only met the friend once.)

I didn’t really feel like to speaking to him – but then I remembered that Moody Man probably rides his motorcycle in a group with Biker Guy. For a minute, I thought they may have been hanging out, but they weren’t, thankfully. I remembered that Moody Man had been to the same event that Biker Guy had been with the other woman he was dating. And like the detective type of woman I am, I use certain things to my advantage to find out information. I had no other way to find out information about Biker Guy to see if he was indeed telling me the truth, so I asked Moody Man about him. They had met recently, but they don’t hang out, and he knew that Biker Guy was dating someone. When I asked if he knew if they were still together, he said he’s not going to “tell on a brother,” to which I replied, “Fuck your ‘brother’ you’ve known for a minute. You’ve known me for 30 years, and I’m trying to protect myself from getting hurt.” He told me he hadn’t seen anyone since the coronavirus lockdown, so he really didn’t know.

Changing the subject, he told me about his kids and other random news like he got himself a boat and asked if I’d like to go on it. I said sure, I have some friends to bring. How many can fit? Because I did not want to go alone with him, and once again, I made it clear we would only be friends and nothing more. That’s when he Facetimed me instead of texting. It didn’t take long before the conversation turned creepy.

Moody Man told me he liked being with me one-on-one, because we have good chemistry “when we talk,” but I knew that’s not what he was referring to. I ignored him, saying, “Maybe I’ll bring (friend’s name). I think you will get along,” just to steer away from anything even remotely sexual. A few times I noticed he was holding his camera oddly so I’d only see part of his face, and I wondered if he was playing with dick or just being a childish weirdo. He made a comment about wanting to see what I was wearing and said some things I wasn’t comfortable with, and I’d change the subject or pretend I didn’t hear him. At some point he started walking around his house with the camera aimed at his face, but then I could see a shower curtain in the background, so I knew he was in the bathroom. Next thing I know, he flips the screen around above the toilet and aimed it on his dick. I told him I didn’t want to see his dick, and when he realized I wasn’t falling for his bullshit, he said he was sorry, that it was an accident. Yeah, right, because who holds their phone in one hand and and dick in the other when Facetiming a friend? I said I needed to go, because the conversation was going nowhere, and I was getting nothing but creeped out frustration and losing minutes of my life. I ended up hanging up on him and haven’t heard from him since.

He’s very charming at first, so I can imagine that Moody Man is appealing to women meeting him for the first time. I’ve never known him to be violent or forceful, but his behavior in general doesn’t sit right. The moment he flipped that camera around was almost like an epiphany of what a skeez he really is, how manipulative and gross and disrespectful he is towards women. Because he’s both educated and street smart, his manipulation skills could very easily be on the verge of a psychopath. He’s also worked as a law enforcement officer, so he knows the system well, and he’s probably smart enough to beat it if he needed to. It would not surprise me if one day something really dark is revealed about him.

I knew he had issues, but I didn’t realize to what extent he would go against my personal boundaries. What I saw and heard from him that night really creeped me out to the point that I know I never want to be alone with him ever again. It was the price I paid for trying to find out information to protect myself from getting hurt by someone else, but it was more internal information for me to process to protect myself from Moody Man acting like a sexual predator.

Another Douchebag I Dated Returns

I mentioned in a post the other day about thirsty men coming out of the woodwork, and while I was writing, I’d received a text from someone I hadn’t heard from in a year. There is a short history with this him, and one that I don’t care to relive in person. I will name him Moody Man for reasons I will explain later.

Moody Man and I went to high school together, and we hooked up around his 21st birthday right before he joined the Marines. Being that it was the 1990s and no internet or social media, we lost touch until I got onto Facebook when I was separated from my ex at the end of 2013. The first time he contacted me via Facebook, I had just separated – literally days – from my ex and was in no way, shape, or form wanting to hook up or even meet with a male for a drink or a meal. I was still dealing with the shock and stress of a separation from a marriage and still living under the same roof as my husband. It was clear that Moody Man was looking for a hookup, and he was very pushy in his messages, saying “it’s just a drink,” when I said I wasn’t even ready for that. Instead of being patient or understanding, Moody Man unfriended me. I hadn’t even noticed until a few months later when I went to send him something I thought he’d like. Right now I don’t remember his reasoning for unfriending me, but I’m sure now that it was stupid and petty, because that’s just the way he is, especially with women. I didn’t realize at the time that this was Moody Man’s modus operandi.

Once I messaged Moody Man after he’d unfriended me, he started talking to me again and talked me into meeting him for a drink. I hadn’t seen him in 20 years, and he was looking pretty good for a 40-year-old man, not to mention he’s intelligent, which is a turn on to me. We met for a drink one afternoon, and once I gained trust in him, met him at his house for drinks one afternoon. The chemistry was heavy, stronger than any chemistry I’d had in probably ten or more years, and we ended up having amazing wild sex all over his house for several hours. Now I had just come out of an 8-year marriage with no chemistry or sex (three times in three years), and apparently, I was also in my prime, so I was ready and willing. What I didn’t realize was that Moody Man had so many issues and mood swings, it was nearly impossible to please him or continue anything with him.

Moody Man wanted a relationship, and not only could I not imagine myself being in another relationship ever again at the time, I hadn’t even filed for divorce yet. He was totally unreasonable about it and expected me to text him constantly while I was working, even though I was teaching at the time and couldn’t be on my phone for obvious reasons. He’d get really pissy with me for not answering him or for being too exhausted to go to his house after work and then he’d abruptly stop talking to me. It was a total mind fuck game to him. If he didn’t get his way, like when I refused to send him nudes, he’d cut me off and act really snippy.

Although the sex was great, I couldn’t deal with him emotionally. There were so many red flags about him, even ones that I saw pretty clearly at the time. After only hanging out maybe three times, he wanted me to meet his young daughter. I didn’t think it was appropriate to be introducing his child to me before being in an actual relationship, but he moved very quickly. At some point he told me I reminded him of his mother, because she’s artsy. And then a few days later he was complaining about his mother and called her a cunt, which is where I drew the line… I reminded him of his “cunt” mother? This guy has issues!

Moody Man had taken me to his friend’s house (a married couple), and for some reason, he got mad at me for talking to the wife alone, like he was jealous, and started acting pissy in front of everyone before he said we were leaving. His own friend referred to him as moody, hence the nickname! I believe that was the last time I saw him during that year. I was certain Moody Man was still using dating sites and texting other women while I was sitting on his couch next to him. I’m pretty sure he had the next one lined up in case we didn’t work out, because a year later, he was married for the third time. Two years later, he was divorced and back on dating sites… when he messaged me.

Since I already knew Moody Man’s m.o., I wasn’t going to play into his bullshit games again. I unequivocally wasn’t going to date him or do him, but I was open to being friends, and he agreed to it. He offered to come over with some beer and catch up. He’d had two more kids with the woman he married, and of course, his “ex is psycho,” because that’s what men like him always say. Then he started telling me some sexually explicit things that I didn’t care to hear, and as he was telling me, I could see his dick getting hard through his pants. (It’s a pretty good size, so not difficult to notice.) He kept getting up and rubbing it down, hinting about us hooking up, but I refused, and I told him I’m not hooking up with anyone I’m not in a relationship with. (This was last year right around my first surgery, and sex was the last thing on my mind.) Plus, he was the last person I’d attempt a relationship with when he can’t even be friends like a normal person. Once he realized I wasn’t buying his bullshit and I clearly wasn’t going to fuck him, he said he had to go… and he took the rest of the beer with him! I literally laughed out loud about it, because it was such a douchebag move.

About a month later, Moody Man offered to take me and friends out on a boat with his some guys. I jump at most boating opportunities, so I went with a female acquaintance. It was a fun day until the driver decided that women are stupid when I told him to follow the other boats, because there was a hidden sandbar nearby. He hit the sandbar and decided to burn out his motor like a dumbass and had a $600 tow back. While the other female and myself laughed it off and continued enjoying ourselves, Moody Man became moody and was on his phone with yet another woman to pick him up at our drop-off point. When the boat docked, he took off, and I didn’t hear from him for a couple of weeks. Mad at something else yet again for not being able to handle the truth, I didn’t hear from him for an entire year until recently.

To be continued…

Touch Starvation & Depression

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Getting Rejected by Male Friends

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lack of Sex & Depression

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

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

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

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

How I Lost My Virginity

Seeing the patterns of sexual abuse…

Free the Burden

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

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

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

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Life After a Hysteroscopy

I haven’t been writing much. I’ve been thinking about writing a lot lately, but just haven’t gotten around to doing it. I really need to force myself to do it, since it’s basically a form of therapy and a release of toxins in my brain. But I did another brain dump in May and never bothered to type it up to post it. And here it is…

I’ve had a lot to think about lately. A LOT. Had the surgery. Hysteroscopy. Biopsy. NO CANCER! Yes! That was a relief. And for whatever reason, I’ve gotten my sex drive back. I suppose not being in constant pain helps that. But still, for four or five weeks I wasn’t allowed to go swimming, take baths, or put anything into my vagina. So you can imagine how happy I am that those times are over and I can at least use my vibrator again… which seems to be partly broken and eating batteries like crazy. Bummer.

All of that gave me a lot of downtime. And downtime means I’m thinking A LOT. Too much. I already tend to worry too much over shit that shouldn’t matter or hasn’t happened. Anxiety has taken over a bit, so I decided to really get back into some art and creative writing rather than journaling. Been keeping to myself a lot. That helps, but too much time alone indoors makes me batshit. Trying to spend “mental time” at the beach as often as I can, even if it’s only for an hour. Reading a lot of books, too. Maybe I’ll review a few.

I wished I liked those bubbly flavored spiked seltzers more, but I still prefer the flavor of beer. Maybe because it’s make with real shit, not some fake flavoring. Anyway, I’m gaining weight from it. I’m sure my hormonal changes aren’t helping. Besides feeling bloated and looking more my age, I almost don’t even care if I get fat. But then again, none of my clothes are fitting, so that is a problem.

And then I’ve been thinking very hard about the people I allow into my life. People often say that I’m hard to get to know. But if I don’t feel the need to get to know them, or for whatever reason don’t trust that person, they won’t have the chance to get to know me. I feel that people that truly want to get to know me will recognize who I am by my writing, art, and spending quality time with me. Time is very important to me. I prefer to use mine alone rather than someone I don’t want to be near.

With that being said, I realize the majority of men I’ve dated did not deserve my time and attention – because they didn’t take the time to get to know me; they were too busy trying to fuck me and/or play my emotions. It’s difficult even being friends with men if they act that way. And then I have the tendency to give second chances, try to work things out that never will, feel sorry for someone (usually why I stay in something longer than I should). Basically, I’ve been dating below me. As in – I have something to offer them, but they have nothing to offer me except issues. So why do I bother? Is it loneliness?

I have to keep occupied, away from fucktards, and find the person I lost long ago – Me.