Writing

About to Lose My Mind – Depression, Anxiety, and I hate everything

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I’m about to lose my fucking mind. Not joking. The amount of stress I’m feeling today and prior to today is really wearing on me.

This morning I spent 3 1/2 hours trying to fix things that shouldn’t be broken, things that I didn’t break, instead of doing something that makes me feel better. And this is the type of shit I seem to be dealing with on a weekly basis, because no one seems to know how to do their jobs.

I had a counseling appointment scheduled for this afternoon at the VA, but I realized that I hadn’t received the ten reminders I normally get when I have an appointment. Good thing I checked this morning, because I would have driven the 30 miles one way to get there only to find out someone canceled ALL of my upcoming counseling appointments. This is AFTER waiting for 3 months to see my counselor, because she is so booked. Second motherfucking time this has happened, and for someone with anxiety, depression, and PTSD, this is NOT a good thing.

Not only did I have to wait nearly three months for this counseling appointment, I had to reschedule another very important appointment (they put at the exact same time) that I’ve been waiting 19 years for. Yes, you read that right. 19 years! I have been dicked around for more than 20 years with the VA, and they still can’t get it right.

I have surgery in 10 days. I’m not nervous about it; I just want it overwith so I can have my physical life back. And because of the surgery, it’s getting more difficult to reschedule all of the shit that someone else fucked up. I will be out of commission for two months, so not only am I currently broke, I am super stressed about how I’m going to make it after surgery. Maybe I will end up living in my car after all.

Yesterday was a bad day. I’ve been getting migraines (sinus? Who knows?) a lot lately. I’m getting one now. Yesterday I had a migraine. I decided maybe a walk on the beach would do me good. So I went and didn’t stay long. I didn’t realize the heat index was 106, so on top of being overly hot, it was crowded, and I didn’t feel like being around people. Then I went home and cried for the rest of the afternoon.

I don’t trust people, and I’m really beginning to hate people, and I’m becoming more and more introverted. I don’t normally feel hatred towards anyone, but for whatever reason, ever since dating Toe Ring and recently seeing OC around town, I’m feeling hatred towards people (including those two). I feel like the only way to get by in this world is to be a fucking asshole, and I hate fucking assholes. It seems like the only way to be successful is to be one. I hate this world.

I don’t fit in anywhere, and I realize I never have, so it’s hard to like anyone when I don’t trust them. I don’t even feel like I have real friends anymore. I have friends that are my friends when they are bored and no one else is there to entertain them, or they’re my friends when they need something. Other than that, I’m on my own.

I haven’t been leaving the house much unless I have to. For the most part, I haven’t felt like being around people, because they annoy the shit out of me and give me anxiety. I don’t want to be out in public. I haven’t been doing any of the normal things I usually do, because I haven’t felt like it. Maybe it’s the excruciating Florida heat. Maybe it’s the depression. And it seems when I do feel like doing anything, something comes along and fucks it all up, so why bother?

Being broke doesn’t help, because I need to save gas. I need my car fixed. I really need a chiropractor (probably why I have migraines). I am trying to decide to either get rid of internet or my phone so I have some grocery money, but I need to have both to get things done. It’s a no-win situation. Some of the jobs I’ve been doing are hit or miss, unpredictable, and often unreliable. I guess this is the way it is with jobs nowadays. It’s bullshit, if you ask me.

A few weeks ago, I had to put food back at the grocery store, because I needed maxi pads, because I wouldn’t stop bleeding. How unfair is it that women have to choose between food and pads, but men don’t? I hate being a woman. Men are clueless about the shit we have to deal with. It must be nice to be clueless. Maybe that’s the key to happiness.

Sometimes I feel like the Universe hates me. That I don’t belong here. That it’s trying to tell me to get the fuck out of it. That everything that sucks is a reminder that I’m just a middle-aged loser with nothing to look forward to… whose dreams are dead and bloated.

I fucking hate life right now.

Another maddening trip to Walmart

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Have I mentioned how much I hate Walmart? I don’t know whether to believe they hire the dumbest fucking people on the planet or they’re just playing games making everyone walk around the entire store looking for one item. Or maybe they’re trained to do that by the evil Walmart demons.

I had to buy something for my mother in law. I’m in Walmart walking around in circles, and I have the following conversation with another one of their genius employees:

Me: Do you have a foot scrubber? You put it on the shower floor and go like this… (I demonstrate) and wash the bottom of your foot with it.

WM: If we had anything like that, it would be in stationary.

Me: Stationary?!

WM: Yeah, stationary.

Me: Do you understand I’m asking you for something that goes in the shower? It’s for elderly people to be able to wash their feet.

WM: Yeah they have bathroom stuff in stationary.

Me: Okay…. Do you have a section with shower nozzles, or walkers, or hand rails, stuff for elderly people?

WM: Yeah but I ain’t never seen what you’re talkin’ about there.

I knew nothing like that would be in “stationary,” but I went and took a look anyway. I walked out empty handed. There was no such thing in “stationary”. Moron!

Shopping at Walmart May Require Mental Health Therapy

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I’m positive I don’t stand alone when it comes to what I think about Walmart. It seems like everyone I know feels the same about the place. It amazes me that a place can be so shitty and still rake in billions a year.

I was trying to save time and get everything in one place, because I had to be somewhere else, so I went to Walmart to return something. Of course there’s a line a half mile long in the middle of the day, because no one is ever really working there.

So I raced around to get some of the things I needed, like cat food. Should have been a simple task, right? Not at Walmart! The cat food I needed was stuffed way in the back of the shelf, but too deep for me to reach it. Of course no one was around, and I ended up having to go to the shelf under it and literally crawl under/into the shelf and reach up to push it so that I could reach it. They were also out of collars and have been for weeks now.

Then I looked for olive oil. The regular type I use for cooking was out – of course – and they only had EVOO left. Shelves are nearly empty! (Again, how does this place function??)

I needed to get flash drives, but they only had them in single packs, which were more expensive. I’ve bought them before in multiple packs before, so I asked the employee. The guy  “Ryan” told me I probably bought them at Staples. Say what??

I told him I don’t shop at Staples. Then he said I might have got them on Amazon.

I couldn’t believe my ears.

I said, “I think I know the difference between buying something at Walmart, driving 20 miles to Staples, or shopping online! I was IN the store!” – and I pointed “right there” to where I saw them last.

Then he said, “Well maybe you don’t remember.”

Oh. My. God.

I was in NO mood to deal with this idiot’s shit. I went OFF on him and said, “Maybe you don’t know how to do your shitty job, Ryan!” – and I threw everything down and walked out.

No wonder Walmart is offering mental health therapy in their store!

Women’s jobs aren’t worthless, dude

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How to treat a working woman

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

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

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

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

Bravo, friend, bravo!

Who determines our worth?

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How it feels to be a wife

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Does working from home deem women worthless?

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You can relax if you have a man’s job.

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

I have worked just about every type of job under the sun. I have been my own boss and run my own home businesses off and on over the years, sometimes making just as much or more as I would if I left the house and drove to an office. Like anyone who has had their own business, I am fully aware of how long it takes to establish oneself. However, those who depend on weekly paychecks do not. For some reason, people are inclined to think that working from home is a worthless job. Especially if you’re a woman.

When I first started my latest business three years ago, I was told by my mother that I needed to find a job in order to help my husband (he makes a decent income but likes to spend it all at once). This was coming from a woman who was unemployed throughout most of my childhood because she gave up her career in medicine for a jealous alcoholic, and then later settled to work at a retail store when she finally decided she wanted to get out of the house.

The other day I was told by my significant other that I don’t work a real job because:

1. I don’t have to leave the house from 8am-5pm each day.
2. My income is irregular, and it’s not a “real” paycheck.
3. I can do laundry at the same time I am working.
4. Because of all of the above, I am considered “unemployed”.

This became a very heated topic. Since my home-based business has provided our family with tax write-offs, flexibility for me to be a wife and mother as needed, and “fun” income, I decided to be the worthless woman he thinks I am. I closed my business. Now he will see what me being unemployed really means, especially when tax time rolls around in six months… and the laundry isn’t clean… and the dishes aren’t clean… and the house is a mess…

And now I will take MY vacation.

Mean Girls Over the Age of 35

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No one should have to deal with mean girls at ANY age. However, it’s not uncommon when you’re a teenager or a middle schooler, given the age. Unfortunately, some women are just mean girls their entire lives. Recently, I’ve had to deal with a few personally, and so did a friend of mine through her job.

In my experience, I was invited on a boating excursion with a group of people. Excitedly, since I don’t get to go boating much, I took up the offer. I wanted nothing more than to relax and enjoy the day and have some fun. But it wasn’t exactly how it went.

We took a short boat ride to a nearby popular island that was filled with people. The driver of the boat was my friend that invited me, there were a few couples that I didn’t know, and a couple of other single women that I did know. However, two of these single women were complete and total mean girls to me for no apparent reason. I wasn’t the only one that noticed it. But being on a boat meant I was STUCK having to deal with the shit the entire day. So I mostly ignored it, but it still took me by surprise. Since it was a morning ride, I wasn’t quite awake to deal with it the same way I would have if I had had a decent night of sleep. I would have told them both to fuck themselves, and now I wish I had so they’d know exactly where they stood with me.

Mean Girl #1 is someone I’ve talked to on a few occasions and never had an issue before; however, I did notice that a few other times I tried to say hi to her she blew me off. Whatever. Mean Girl #2 was someone that I had met but I didn’t quite remember it. When I introduced myself and went to shake her hand, she replied in a snotty voice with her nose in the air, “Yeah, we’ve met before.” Okay, bitch. Both girls reminded me of snooty bitches from junior high that would gang up on and beat up other girls. Neither are very pretty, although they try. But the point is – I don’t care what you look like, as long as you’re not an asshole, I will be your friend.

Mean Girl #1 yelled and screamed at everyone on the boat during the ride, so it wasn’t just me that noticed the bitchiness (actually 3 women were screaming at us all to shut up, stand up, sit down, do this, do that, like musical fucking chairs – totally uncalled for). I have never been yelled at and screamed at on a day and event that was supposed to be fun since I was a kid. Any time I asked Mean Girl #1 a question or said anything to her, she was a snotty bitch with an attitude, snapping at me as if I’d done something to her or was in her way or she didn’t want me there. By the end of the day, I was out of beer, hungry, and I’d had enough of her shit and barked back at her.

Mean Girl #2 let up a little bit, but wasn’t exactly friendly. She was there with a guy that I think she’d just met, because she talked about how great the sex was. No one in any self respecting relationship is going to speak that way around people they barely know. Like Mean Girl #1, Mean Girl #2 was snotty when I tried to speak to her. At some point, some dude came around taking group pictures, and when my friend invited me to be in it with them, I declined. First, I hate my picture taken, and second, I definitely DON’T want myself in photos with fake ass negative bitches. I’m pretty sure the two of them whispered something about them glad I wasn’t in the photos. But I can guarantee I was happier I wasn’t associated with them, because all of that ended up on social media.

Looking back, I’m thinking both of these bitches felt I was a threat to them. Why, I don’t know, because I’m not out to fuck around with the jackass in our area. Mean Girl #1 was busy shaking her tits and ass for the other guys on the island and most likely trying to hook up. I wasn’t interested in hooking up or meeting another stupid drunk ass man, so I stuck with the older couples that were much more pleasant and educated to talk to. I didn’t feel like getting involved in any drama, and we all seemed to be on the same page.

I saw Mean Girl #2 out by herself recently (guess the new guy didn’t last) and she said hi to me when we were both talking to our mutual friend. I said, “Oh, hi,” as if I didn’t care what she said to me. Because I truly didn’t give a fuck. Don’t pretend to be friendly to me one time and not the next, then try it again. I don’t have time for that bullshit.

The other day, I noticed Mean Girl #1 follows me on Instagram (never liked anything, just viewed my “stories” which now mainly consist of food and cat pics). I guess a while back I’d requested to follow her but she never accepted it. So I unrequested. I don’t want to view or see her shit. Still wondering why she’s following mine.

Either way, I have zero time for any person in my life that acts that way. Never have, never will. Basic bitches have no place in my life!

After 40, a vagina is worthless?

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Good Lord above.

I watched an episode of Dr. Oz about vaginas. They explained how a woman’s vagina in their 20’s and 30’s is still in good shape. But in your 40s, it becomes dry and fragile and useless.

What. The. Frig.

I think my vagina works just fine. I mean, not that I put it to use much, but when I do, it seems to work pretty damn good. At least that’s what I’ve been told.

Now the uterus – that’s another story altogether. No need for that anymore, since I’m not using it, and all it does is cause pain and problems and screw up my life several days a month.

But my vagina, my vagina is still good.

What Are You Settling For?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Working Thru PTSD and Being Emotionally Unavailable

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Sometimes things happen that will forever change a person’s life. Forever change who that person is. Some things have forever changed me, and even though I pretend to be strong, these things have weakened me in many ways. Just when I started working through the PTSD, something else came along and set me right back. In the past month, I have felt pretty good for only one day – both physically and mentally. That’s not enough for me.

I’ve been doing a lot of introspection over the past few months, going thru my old writings, and realizing that I have completely lost myself. I don’t even write the same. I stopped working out. Nothing interests me at all. I lost who I am, I lost my enthusiasm for life, my motivation to do anything I used to enjoy, my spark. Why? Because I spent too much time focused on giving myself to those that didn’t value me. And now I feel I have nothing left to give to anyone else except myself.

What the fuck was I thinking giving my time and energy to those unworthy assholes??! I suppose it’s because it’s the way I was conditioned since childhood, as many women are. It’s really hard to break a pattern that’s been going on for over 40 years, especially without guidance or cheerleaders. I feel as if I’m constantly searching for something that works, for people that believe in me. I guess no one else will if I don’t believe in myself, but how do you even begin to believe in yourself? 

This struggle has to stop. Over the past few months I realize that I have spent too much time and energy on relationships that were doomed from the beginning instead of focusing my energy on things that would build me up and make me happy. I honestly have no desire to date; I can only be friends with a man, and if he can’t be just friends, then he can go fuck himself. I just want to write, create things, be one with nature, and heal. For now, I am the one that’s emotionally unavailable. And I am okay with that.

A lot of this has to do with so many of the fucktards I’ve dated and keep running into in this small town. How did I not notice what pieces of shit these men are? I only chose to find the good things in people instead of seeing head on the narcissistic, selfish assholes that cared absolutely nothing about me. Even men that I didn’t date – those I trusted as friends – men that did things to me that will forever change who I am and the way I feel about men in general. I believe it’s probably even changed my DNA. No wonder I feel like shit all the time. Looking back, I wish I hadn’t met or dated ANY of the men I’ve written about. Not one of them has added anything positive to my life (probably why it’s easy to write about them). Even OC – the one that I loved and hurt me the most.

I’ve run into OC a couple of times in the past few months. He literally hid behind his hat in one instance (I pretended I didn’t see him), and in another, he literally ran out of the place when he saw me. Seriously… what a fucking coward! It’s been two whole years, and he’s still acting this way? WTF?

About a month ago, a mutual acquaintance (more on that later) mentioned to me that OC “has commitment issues”. Instantly, those words helped me to gain clarity – I realized at that exact moment I’m not the only one OC has done this to, and all of this time I had been blaming myself, thinking I’m the one that did something wrong. And to think that there are women in this town that have also probably been burned by him really angers me. How dare he think it’s okay to use women, feign a friendship, and throw them away! What a fucking piece of shit! Instead of feeling hurt from him now, I feel anger and disgust. (Also pissed off at myself for being a fool.) I don’t normally feel hatred towards people, but now I have this hatred towards him for wasting my time and lying to me and using me and hurting me without a single apology. I was blinded by his charm and his pretending to like me, because I wasn’t used to men being nice to me. How fucking pathetic am I?

On the note of men being nice to me – that’s how I ended up married. I had a horrible dating streak in my 20s and early 30s. I was a single mom, and at the time, being a single mom wasn’t a huge thing like it is now. No one wanted to date me, no one wanted to date anyone with kids – or they wanted their own kids, and I was done having them. I was rarely taken out on “real dates” and treated like a woman. All I met were losers or men that were too old for me to date. I honestly didn’t even know what dating was supposed to be about, because my life at that time were mainly friends with benefits and hookups. I didn’t know what it was like to have a real boyfriend. I also didn’t meet anyone that I wanted in my life longterm, because when you’re a single mom, the guy has to be the entire package.

So when I met my now ex-husband, he was super sweet to me and took me out on real dates, called me when he said he would, and all of those good things that women should get out of a man she’s dating. Plus, he accepted my child. I wasn’t used to be treated well at all, which is why I stuck with him and married him. We had some things in common, but not enough to keep the marriage alive. We grew apart. I realize now I was settling for someone just because he was nice to me, and I didn’t think anyone else could or would love me. How fucked up is that? I don’t want to fall into that trap again.

Recently, an acquaintance introduced me to a man that I’m now very good friends with. It’s a new friendship, so the trust is still building. To set the record straight, I’ve already told him that I’m emotionally, financially, and sexually unavailable – and he’s okay with that. It’s nice to find someone that can be a friend without expecting anything in return, like the men in my experience have.

I always feel like I owe him something when he helps me move furniture or takes me out to eat – because there has always been a price to pay when men “help”. But he says he doesn’t expect anything in return, and I sit and wonder how long this attitude will last.

My friend treats me very well, but he does remind me a lot of my ex-husband (the good parts), and I realize we don’t have that much in common. And this is what gets me – friends saying that if he treats me well, I should date him. But I don’t see it that way, since I have been there/done that, got bored and moved on. I know exactly what I want, but I have to keep reminding myself that just because this person treats me well doesn’t mean I should be in a relationship with him. Besides, I am emotionally unavailable. I just need to find other people that know how to treat other people well.

Serial Killers & Dick Pics

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Just some random thoughts I wrote down recently….

Sometimes I wonder how I’m still alive. After watching hundreds of hours of criminal documentaries and Dateline, I’m the perfect candidate for a serial killer. Or some other deranged piece of shit. I mean, look at my dating history of total fucktards. 

Why am I the perfect candidate? I am alone a lot. A LOT. I travel alone, I go out alone. Not that I always want to be alone, but sometimes I do. Although I do my best to totally be aware of my surroundings and depend on my gut instinct, there are always slip-ups. Not that nothing bad has ever happened to me from being alone; so far I’ve been lucky that the only things permanent are emotional scars. 

A few of my friends have shared some stories with me about going out alone and either being attacked or nearly attacked by men that have zero boundaries or a care in the world about women in general. I’m a fighter for the most part, but you just never know what the surrounding circumstances will be in any given situation. And I don’t carry a gun. I think my mouth is often a deterrent that helps keep the creeps away. But a physical fight is always a gamble when the person is bigger and stronger. And depending on the location, sometimes fighting back may  end with floating in a body of water or face being pounded or being choked to death. 

Like I do here on this blog (and for obvious reasons I don’t use real names or locations), I call people out on their shit. I do it right there on social media but I don’t hold back on the real names if someone deserves it. A few weeks ago, I was sent an unsolicited dick pic by some fucktard that I didn’t even know on Instagram. Just some random dude with nothing else to do. (Oh to have so much time on your hands! *eyeroll*) He decided to say, “Good morning,” along with a pic of his erect penis.

Like seriously, what the fuck! I took a screenshot of his message and his profile, blocked him, and posted his idiocy for the world to see. People messaged me that they thought it was great for showing everyone what a (no pun intended) dick he was for doing that. The thing is – men send unsolicited dick pics to women all the damn time, but most don’t think to post their names. Well, I do. I’m fucking done with men thinking it’s okay to treat women like sex objects and sex dolls. Men with this type of mindset are dangerous to the point of beyond stupidity – I feel they are a danger to women in general.

And it all seems to be too recurring. It’s time to put an end to this patriarchal bullshit. 

Life After a Hysteroscopy

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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.

Spring Cleaning My Mind

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I’ve been meaning to sit down and write a lot more lately, but I’ve had some issues to deal with before I have allowed myself to actually sit. I started redecorating my place after my landlord did some improvements to my bathroom, so for two or three weeks I was painting and cleaning and getting rid of what no longer serves me. For instance, some prints of Key West that were given to me while I was married that I have outgrown, two bags of clothing that either didn’t fit me or I wonder why the hell I bought it in the first place, things I’d saved as “art supplies” but never used, and even my living room rug that I had while I was married. I just want things that are mine to begin with, not a reminder of the past that I had with someone else. Plus, I’m preparing for surgery next week and want my home in order so I have nothing to worry about. I enjoy living minimally with only the quality things that I need and things that keep me occupied.

Another thing I’ve done is take a risk to focus more on freelance work and other projects rather than slaving for someone else, especially since the wages in my area are horrible and barely worth getting out of bed. Besides, the amount of appointments and surgery/recovery time I have would not sit well with any employer. I may have less income coming in, but I’m happier, less stressed, and flexibility is important to me. Plus, my health is my number one priority at the moment, of which most employers seem to be so flippant.

With that previous statement in mind, I recently met a woman that had worked for a large corporation for many years and was let go without any warning, and it changed her entire life. She is now self-employed and less stressed, yet also lower in income. It’s a double-edged sword, but happiness is more important. We discussed how so many employers no longer truly care about their employees; employees are replaceable and unappreciated. It reminded me of the last company I worked for that didn’t even give its employees a Christmas/holiday party, not even a “thank you” at the end of the year. That was a tell-tale sign for me to run from the place, and I did two months later. Why on earth would I get up in the morning to make someone else rich that could care less if I was hit by a bus?

With all of this going on, I have noticed an internal change in myself as well. While I painted for days, I listened to a lot of podcasts and got into a zen mode. I didn’t feel like being around other people. I wasn’t thinking about the actual work I was doing; I was just being, which is a huge step for me, because I have a tendency to think and overthink all too often. Although at times my mind did wander, and I did do a lot of thinking about the things going on in my life… and the people that have affected me in all sorts of ways.

I was invited out a few times by friends in town and another one going away, so it was a nice change to have some girl time. (Since most of my friends are boyfriended up, it’s rare to have girl time anymore.) While I realize I don’t exactly fit in to any group, I have a variety of friends of all shapes, sizes, ages, and backgrounds. There are some people that, once they get boyfriended up, stop being friends until they have an issue. Or my one friend, that when we do finally get together, ends up constantly on her phone with the boyfriend texting and calling nonstop. It’s the most annoying fucking thing in the world, not to mention rude. I also realize that I’m the one initiating getting together with some friends almost 100% of the time. So I stopped doing it. And I haven’t heard a word from any of them. I often feel like people only contact me when they need something or when they’re bored and no one else is around. No one wants to feel this way.

I have distanced myself from dating again. While I’m open to meet new people, the whole “dating” and trying to find “the one” thing seems to be useless. Men are either too preoccupied pursuing multiple women or “work too much” or have small children or otherwise emotionally unavailable. Either be in it or GTFO, because I value my time, and people who waste it are the epitome of ass. And then there’s the other side of the spectrum – after one date they think they’re going to marry me. It’s not happening. None of it.

And while I’m sitting here typing this, I’m watching a millipede crawl across the floor. I am a big person on signs from the Universe… and the symbolism of the millipede, according to Ted Andrews:

“Damp environments are symbolic of creative, psychic, and emotional areas. For those to whom the millipede is a messenger, it’s important to find an environment supportive to their creative and psychic sensibilities, necessary for their health and well-being. Centipedes and millipedes often remind us to be careful of what we say and how we say it. They alert us to new psychic environments and connections and to new and previously unrecognized psychic relationships. They also appear to alert us to any possible pitfalls within those relationships. Theirs is the energy of quiet protection in psychic exploration.” (Ted Andrews Animal-Wise.)

Seems to be quite fitting.

Living as a Single INFP-T Idealist

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I had probably taken this test back in college, but long before everything was available on the internet. After recently taking the Myers-Briggs personality test, I realized why I have always felt alone, always felt like I was on the wrong planet or born to the wrong generation, or just plain never fit in anywhere. The more I read about the INFP-T personality type (“the mediator), the more I’m beginning to understand myself. I wish I had done this years ago!

From what I’ve read, the INFP personality is a rarity, fitting only about 4-5% of the population. Every single characteristic of an INFP-T fits me spot on. Here I was all of these years thinking something was wrong with me, because I never fit in, people always told me they could never understand me, and because of that – I never understood myself and always felt as if something was wrong with me. So now here I am in my mid-40s finally figuring it out.

It seems that most INFP personality types are lonely, mainly because we prefer to be alone or have difficulty being around chaotic environments or people, prefer to communicate in metaphors, and take things personally. I’m not the type of person that’s far left or far right, and I like things diplomatically balanced right in the center. We like to spend quality time with a few people that mean a lot to us. This explains why I have never fit into groups, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I mean, I can get along with anyone or find common ground with anyone somewhere along the line; I tend to be a listener, and more than enough people have unleashed all of their problems to me; but I have also been told more than enough times that I am difficult to get to know. After reading all of the strengths and weaknesses of the INFP personality, I identify with all of them 100%. I am ruled by my emotions and feelings for the most part, which is probably why my entire life has seemed so scattered.

After taking the Myers-Briggs test, I found the Keirsey personality test that also fits along the same lines. There are four types of Idealists (15% of the population), and INFP personality type is one of them. I happen to fall into the Idealist-Healer category. Again, this type fit me quite well, especially as a nurturer and dreamer.

Taking all of this into consideration, I can see why I have had such difficulty in relationships and opening up to people. It all makes total sense now. I suppose this is another reason I’m single; I find the good in everyone, even though they may not be good for me, and I often don’t break off relationships (whether it be friendship, romantic, or work related) when I should. I care more than I should, and like many INFP types, I tend romanticize a partner for what I think they are or could be rather than what they really are.

I already knew all of this about myself, but these tests just help explain things better for my understanding. Now that I’ve discovered all of this, I realize I need more personality types that fit my own. Further research suggests that I the best matches for INFP types are ENFJ or ESFJ. If it were only that easy to find that without going around asking people to take the test! Maybe the next time I write a dating profile it will read “INFP seeking ENFJ or ESFJ” and see what happens.

Gaslight Guy is a Fake

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It was recently confirmed that I was right about the guy that I thought had been gaslighting me a while back. Being a small town, I’ve run into him a few times with friends, and we’re cordial, but we never hang out as friends ourselves. Now I have a new friend that used to be his friend. I’ll just call her Megan.

Megan was very close with Gaslight guy, not in a dating sense, but as in very good friends. Eventually, Gaslight’s true colors came out, and he began treating Megan like shit. Without going into too much detail on her end, I related my experience with Gaslight. Sure enough, I was correct the whole time. What he says and what he does are two different things. How he puts himself out there on social media and dating sites is in direct contrast to who he is at home. Not a surprise, however.

While we were still chatting, I had called Gaslight out on his constant “liking” of scantily clad Barbie doll type of women on social media. For a man in his 40s, it seemed excessive, and it also made it seem like he was constantly on his phone. I had thought to myself, if that’s what he likes, I can’t live up to that. He denied it. He denied everything I had called him out on. However, Megan confirmed that’s exactly what she’d witnessed firsthand. In person.

Another thing I had noticed on Gaslight’s dating and social media accounts, he claimed to like doing certain activities that he in fact doesn’t do at all. Prior to all of this, I had suggested things for us to do, but he always had some excuse. (Maybe I just wasn’t too Barbie enough for him.) But Megan confirmed he does NONE of those things, that he’s actually quite boring and besides going to work, spends most of his time on his phone (liking women on social media, I presume). That was kind of surprising to me, because except for the gaslighting, I didn’t expect him to be a complete fake.

I guess part of the gaslighting from my childhood is still ingrained in me – that I was always imagining things that were actually right there in my face, because I still sometimes find myself doubting what I think. Whatever the case, I’m glad to know that I was right about Gaslight guy. That I’m not crazy. That my intuition and feelings and my observations are spot on, no matter what these assholes try to say.

Giving Second Chances Makes Me a Fool

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I’m not usually one to give second chances, because most of the time, someone pisses me off so much I want nothing to do with them. I saw Toe Ring on Bumble again a couple of weeks ago and swiped right for the hell of it. We matched. He said he would like to try again and asked me out for lunch. I thought that sounded fine.

Lunch was great, but it ended up being a day drinking fest, which is something I hadn’t done in a long time. We ended up having dinner also, hopping around town to different restaurants and a brewery. By the time we got to the brewery, my memory was foggy, but Toe Ring decided to use the bathroom and it seemed to take him a while to come back. He was talking to (flirting with?) some other women playing a game. Then he proceeded to attempt to make out with me at the bar, which is a huge no-no for me. My bartender friend said he was a drunk hot mess, and he told me to run. All I remembered the next morning was that we had a really fun time.

A week later, I was meeting my friend for a cocktail and appetizer. Toe Ring was nearby, and I invited him to say hello. Plus, I thought it would give me an opportunity to get a friend’s perspective. He showed up pretty tipsy. Here we go again, I thought. He offered to buy a round of drinks and then sat there talking to my friend the entire time. I had to leave to go to a family event, which he already knew, but invited me out for sushi. I said I would, but I have to do this thing that I already told you about. So what did he do? After letting me pay my own tab, he asked my friend out instead. She was coming with me, so that wasn’t going to happen. I thought that was a shitty thing to do.

My friend and I both agreed it was rude of him. But Toe Ring thought he was being nice. I said you think asking my friend out on a sushi date in front of me is being nice? Because it’s pretty disrespectful. Not to mention you let me pay my own tab. He reminded me that he paid the tab the weekend before. Well, if you’re going to ask me out on a date, be prepared to pay the damn tab! 

Later that night he was texting me some drunk gibberish that wasn’t making sense. Basically he wanted me to come over, but clearly he was wasted. The following day I went off on him about his rudeness of asking my friend out. That’s when he said he was just trying to be nice. Then he said I should have just showed up to his house, which is something I don’t do anyway. So I reminded him how he cannot properly communicate, and he “liked” my comment. I told him that it’s obvious he’s not that into me. He never said anything about that and I have barely heard from him since.

I don’t know why I gave Toe Ring a second chance. I don’t know what it is I like about him, because clearly he doesn’t like me very much. My next therapy session is next week….

Single White Female With PTSD (Lives With Cat)

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After twenty-something years of b.s. with the Veteran’s Administration to get my medical benefits and counseling, I think I finally have it all straightened out. Two years ago I attempted to get counseling, because I had been through a divorce and numerous things that I could no longer deal with on my own, and then a close friend died suddenly. I knew that it was time to talk to a professional.

The VA finally scheduled me for my first counseling appointment, but I wasn’t aware it was at a different location than the normal one, so I was running a little late. I was there a good hour talking to an older woman that reeked of cigarette smoke, and the thing she seemed to only focus on was asking about my cats. I wasn’t there to talk about my freaking cats; I was there for real issues.

Anyway, the VA later canceled my future appointment, because the counselor would be out that day. Then suddenly, they canceled EVERY future appointment and had no record of me visiting the first time. NONE. Seriously. I was super pissed and explained who I saw and what happened with me being a few minutes late. They finally figured it out, but then they contacted me by letter to tell me I didn’t qualify for VA benefits (I did; they were wrong again). This happened to me twice in two years. Now, when someone needs counseling and isn’t getting it AND is told incorrect information AND someone is fucking around with medical benefits, it can make a person really lose it. I told them no wonder veterans are committing suicide every day, because this is the type of shit the VA puts them through. I probably cussed out the wrong people, but guess what? They fixed it. Finally.

So this year – two years later – I’m finally getting counseling. Except that they set me up with a male counselor that I could not open up to, because I have female issues that only a female can relate to. I had three appointments with a male counselor that I felt was focusing on things that I didn’t care to talk about. I had other things I needed to address. He also “related” to me by telling me things about himself, but he did this on all three occasions (repeated himself), and I was bored and shut down. I wasn’t there to listen to him talk about himself. I just sat there in his hot, stuffy office staring at his funny curly hair and thinking about how much I wanted to cut it. On the last session with him, he suggested I see a female counselor, so I put in my request.

In the meantime, I realized that my medical records – including the counselor’s notes – were available for me to read. Male counselor diagnosed me with chronic PTSD, anxiety, and depression. I knew about the last two, but I never thought of myself as having PTSD at this point in life. Another note he had written in my notes:

Living situation: Lives with cat

Seriously. I literally laughed out loud, thinking, really? Am I that woman? Crazy cat lady that lives with cat? I was still laughing at the irony of it, but I was also thinking how fucking sad is my future?

(**NOTE: First visit with the female counselor, I felt she was easy to talk to; it was easy for me to open up. AND she actually listened to me, didn’t relate to herself, asked the appropriate questions… AND we started talking about the things I went there for in the first place. AND here was no mention of cats.)

Stuck in My Head – March Brain Dump

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Lately I feel as if I’ve been stuck in my head, wanting to be alone, not really feeling sociable. I have a lot of things going on, a lot on my mind. Just started another new job that I’m unsure about already, been dealing with medical issues that I’m also unsure what the outcome will be. I’ve been finding myself not wanting to listen to noise or music or anything but silence or the wind or the birds or something natural. Nothing manmade, because I’m finding it more and more annoying to the point it’s causing confusion.

I’m not exactly liking where the world is heading. I’m big into nature and natural things, but it’s obvious greed is taking over and ruining some of the real luxuries of life – things that money cannot possibly buy. It’s depressing to watch.

I’ve lost interest in dating again. Besides it being so time-consuming getting to know someone that I can’t even be friends with, it’s so fucking exhausting. I just don’t have the energy to put into someone that I don’t have that much interest in – or put energy into someone that turns out to be an asshole. It takes away from my spirit, from my work, from my sleep habits… I just can’t do it anymore.

I’m also tired again. I was doing fine with getting my shit together right up until I met Toe Ring, then my sleep habits that I was finally getting under control went to shit again. Should I also mention I had great control of my drinking habits as well until he came along? I realize now I often let the wrong people into my life that aren’t the best influences, that don’t bring out the best in me, that don’t contribute to me feeling good about things. I know I’ve done this in the past, and I don’t want to repeat it. Only people that lift my spirit, not drown it.

I guess for now being alone is probably what’s best for me. I’m content with writing and doing my multiple other jobs and spending Friday nights home alone with my cat watching Dirty John or Temptation Island. It’s more entertaining and rewarding than dealing with someone that I shouldn’t be with and that drains my energy to the point of wanting to be alone again.

And Then I’ve Had Some Good Dates…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why I Will Never Date a Trump Fan Ever Again

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Before anyone gives me their bright unsolicited political opinions, let me just say I’m on neither side of the fence. I’m straight in the middle. But against my own beliefs, I gave some people the benefit of the doubt to get to know in the dating world. What a mistake and a waste of time that was!

Looking back, I realized that most (if not all) of my bad dates were indeed Trump fans. Specifically, Kiss Fanatic, King Nothing, Pig, Frat Boy, Mr. Volatile, Redneck, Mr. Retired Military, and even some of the guest blogger/anonymous submissions – Drunk Cowboy and Racecar Driver. On paper, these guys seemed great. In person, they were complete douchebags.

And then there’s a more recent one that I met thru Bumble that I’ll refer to as Toe Ring, because he had a toe ring. He also knows about my blog, so if he’s reading this, I’m pretty sure his asshole is puckering. We had an amazing first date at a new sushi restaurant neither of us had yet visited. He was courteous, kind, and well-mannered, and he even gave me a flower when I showed up. I thought that was an extremely sweet gesture. Our conversation was great and flowed easily. After sushi we went to get a few drinks and talked some more and decided to head to my house to wind down. We kissed a few times and ended up falling asleep on my couch. It was very innocent and nice and different from most dates that I was used to. But it was short-lived.

Toe Ring and I were supposed to go to dinner one night but I was extremely tired and asked for a raincheck. The following week, Toe Ring came to my house (he worked late) after work just about every evening, brought some beers and ended up getting shitfaced every single time. I began to think he had a drinking problem and told him so. Not only that, but he started getting aggressive and grabbing my boobs and acting like a total asshole. The first time it happened I blamed it on the alcohol, but he did it again. Then he started pressuring me for sex after I had made it clear I wasn’t going to do that unless I’m in a relationship. I reamed him about it, telling him it’s really disrespectful and nothing like he acted on the first date. Besides, we’d only been on one actual dinner date, and the rest of the time he just crashed at my house.

I had to keep reminding Toe Ring that I’d like to take him up on that raincheck for dinner (even takeout would have been acceptable at some point), but he was either always working late or had some other excuse… or was too busy getting drunk at a hotel bar an hour from my house. I was also convinced that he had another woman or two on the back burner in case we didn’t work out. I would ask him questions and he would dance around them without actually saying yes or no every single time. I mean, maybe he wasn’t actually seeing anyone else, but I had the gut feeling he was probably texting or sexting other women. So I didn’t exactly trust him.

Still, Toe Ring insisted on seeing me when he got off work, but after a week or so, I started to get bored with the routine of watching him get shitfaced and keeping me up late, groping me, pressuring me for sex, and using my house as a motel… and then letting the alarm go off two or three times at 5am because he had to work. Then one evening he started talking about needing someone to go to his house early in the morning to wake his kids and take them to school… and I thought holy hell, this guy just wants a woman around because he needs a babysitter. NO WAY!

Valentine’s Day rolled around, and I wasn’t expecting to hear from Toe Ring, but around 8pm that evening he asked me if I wanted to go out and do something. Right… at 8pm. At that point, I was already out with my gay friend (since I knew he wouldn’t try to fuck me) and was so annoyed at the fact that if Toe Ring really wanted to see me, he’d have planned it ahead of time. He insisted on seeing me, because he doesn’t give a damn what I want, just his own selfish wants. By the time I saw him, it was 9pm, and we live in an area where dinner closes around 10pm. This time, I had already been drinking, and this time I was the shitfaced one. I don’t even remember going back to my house, but I do remember being sober enough that I slept in my leggings and sweater that I wore out that night, because I wasn’t about to allow him to grope me or try to have sex with me again. When his alarm went off at 5am, he got up and wanted to have sex. Again, I was disgusted by his behavior and lack of boundaries and told him no way. He said, “Just give me six minutes,” and I woke up out of my slumber and about lost it.

He’s really lucky I didn’t have a grenade in my hand at that point, because I’d have stuck it in his pants. I was fuming that he had zero class and zero respect for my feelings, my needs, and my boundaries. When Toe Ring left, I couldn’t get back to sleep, which made me fume even more, so I sent him a barrage of text messages telling him exactly how I felt and letting him know what a selfish asshole he was and how fake he was by acting all normal and decent on the first date instead of being his normal dickhead authentic self. He ended up apologizing that he’s sorry it didn’t work out. And then about a week later he sent me another message apologizing again about it not working out – but not about his horrible, shitty behavior. If he were truly sorry, he’d have taken a hard look at his behavior and did something about it. With that being said, I can’t be sorry that it didn’t work out, because I am the same person I was on that first date with nothing to hide that tolerated far too many things that I should have let go the first time it happened.

I don’t normally bring politics into my dating life, but after meeting these awful guys, I now see I need to… that I have to ask some prerequisite questions even before the conversation starts. And the one is: “Are you a Trump Fan?” because it will save me a lot of aggravation in the long run. I can be friends with just about anybody, but I’m not sharing my life or my bed with a Trump Fan ever again, and I’m definitely not letting any of those assholes grab me by the pussy!

Being the Rebound Girl

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For whatever reason, I tend to attract guys that are newly single or somewhat undecided about their single status. It didn’t matter much when I first became single, but it’s been a good five years now, so obviously I’m in a different frame of mind. Now whenever I meet someone I make it a point to ask when their last relationship was… and then I move on, because 99% of the time, it’s within the past few months or so.

When I was newly single after the divorce, I dated someone off and on for several months that I’d gone to high school with but had never known. I say off and on, because neither of us wanted a relationship,; he had nothing to offer me, and he consistently pissed me off. He basically worked very little, drank a lot, had no driver’s license, and 4 kids that I later learned hated him. The whole thing was more of a convenience, since he lived extremely close to me, so it was easy to hang out. I also did some work for him for which he paid me well, and I was also his designated driver (he paid me) since he couldn’t drive. So that part seemed like a win/win for us both.

We did have a lot of fun together, however. We went boating and partied a lot… and then I eventually realized he was probably the biggest liar I’d ever met. Even though we weren’t in a “relationship” it seemed we had a mutual understanding to not sleep around with other people while we were together. I was adamant about not catching anything gross and I needed that emotional connection that was honest. Honesty was not his policy, whatsoever; he was sneaky, and the more I learned, the more I began to distance myself.

One evening I was bitching to my bartender friend about him. Another woman was sitting next to me and started asking details…

Does he live here and do “this” for a living? Yes and yes. His name is “Big Liar”? Yes. She looked at me and was really nice about it and said that she was also going through a divorce and started seeing him. I thought how and when, because I live so close and we’re together often.

When she told me the dates/times, that’s when I figured out it was when I was out of town visiting my family. She showed me text messages he’d sent her in the weeks while he was still with me – he was trying to hook up, but she was no longer interested. I was fuming, but not at her. I thanked her for telling me everything, and we’ve been friends ever since.

I ended up leaving and driving straight to his house to tell him what a piece of shit liar he was. He acted like he didn’t care one single ounce about my feelings. I left angry and in tears, hurt and confused. (I think I threw a glass that shattered on his porch – not at him but at the universe. Oh, well.)

But the shitty part was – I was still doing work for him and needed the money badly, so I had to continue dealing with him.

This isn’t the end of the story. Just this chapter for now.

Random Bad Dates from my 20s

~ Free The Burden ~ 1 Comment

I’ve been trying to throw things away to make room for more, but can’t seem to get rid of things like my old scrapbook of “Crushes, Dates, & Loves”. I should hand this down to my daughter, as I’m sure she could appreciate some of these stories. Some stories I barely remember – or not at all.

No Money Man:
This was supposed to be a weekend getaway, but it turned out that I couldn’t get away fast enough. Probably in my early 20s, I was invited to spend the weekend in another town. There was no chivalry whatsoever. He would walk at least 3 to 5 steps in front of me, sat down at the dinner table before me, didn’t bother to open car doors, asked me for money, “joked” by saying annoying, sarcastic, demeaning things, and would put his hands on me in public to show that I was with him. On top of it all, I ended up paying for dinner! Apparently, I never saw this person again. Why don’t I remember this person? Probably because I didn’t want to. He sounds like a total douche!

The Meat Packer:
He never became an actual date, but I saw him at least weekly, which made my grocery shopping more enjoyable. This guy worked at Publix’s  meat department, and we shared the same name. He’d flirted with me on several occasions, always making conversation, but he never asked me out. I was a single mom at the time, going to college and working a job or three. Meeting decent guys was difficult, because in those days “nobody wanted to date a woman with a kid (except maybe old men).” So I finally got the nerve to ask him out instead. His response: “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that very much.” I was pissed and embarrassed, so I started shopping at a different store. Sorry, Publix!

Stinky Pillow Guy:
Back before Tinder, Bumble, and Match, people used Yahoo Personals. I was in my mid to late 20s when I met a guy that lived about an hour or so away. He was very polite and very sweet, even in person. We got to know each other for a few weeks online and by phone, and when I met him, I liked him. Since he lived far and I didn’t want anyone at my house (it was also much easier for me to run far away!), I made plans to stay the night at his house – on the couch. Our date consisted of me giggling at the fact he didn’t have many table manners, but it wasn’t because he was rude; he was just inexperienced. We went to a sushi restaurant where he proceeded to wipe his face with the o-shibori that was presented to us at dinner. Then I watched him butcher sushi rolls with a fork, because he’d never eaten it before. We then rented movies that he talked through them the entire time. Finally, I prepared to sleep on his old pullout couch with an awful back bar that just about crippled me. Then he gave me a nice moldy pillow for my head, and I immediately suffered an allergy attack. Last, but not least, I guess he assumed he was going to sleep with me and took it upon himself to jump in bed next to me and put his measley hands all over me before he started snoring loudly. I managed to ease my way out and left in the middle of the night and never turned back.

The Pilots:
I live in an area where there are a lot of flight schools nearby, so whenever my friends and I went out, we’d always meet pilots. I was probably in my late 20s when I met a pilot from Venezuela. He was in his 30s, and we hit it off immediately. I thought he had a lot of class, intelligence, and was attractive – much different from the down-home Florida cracker types I was used to meeting. He’d told me he’d been divorced for 7 months, but hadn’t been together with the wife “in a long time”.

I was really looking forward to getting to know him better, but after the crooked married cop situation, I decided to do a little research. Lo and behold, there was no divorce. When confronted, he became defensive and thought I was being ridiculous. I told him to call me when the divorce was final. I got a call from him a few months later at the beginning of the summer, and supposedly the papers were signed. Then the asshole stood me up for a date.

At the end of July, I bumped into him at a club where he introduced me to his new girlfriend. Four months later, they were engaged. Fly away, birdie, fly away!

Another pilot I met at a Best Buy while we were both arguing with the jerk at the computer repair dept. He was sort of a foreign guy, seemed really cool, only a couple years older, and he was kind of hot. The first night we went out, he said, “I think I could fall in love with you.”

That was waaayyy too soon for a first date, and it completely scared me off, so I never called him again. I saw him around a few more times, and he thought I hated him. I didn’t hate him, but I was certainly not ready for the “L” word either.

Do you have any fun dating stories you’d like to share? Send them here!