I am confused by the feelings I am having today. Okay, these aren't just today's feelings. I have been struggling with this for awhile. I'll start writing about it, quit, start over, feel guilty, quit, and on and on. I'm not sure if what I am experiencing is unique to me, normal, or somewhere in between.
I don't understand if I should continue to care about or be concerned with things that a person that I love chooses not to. I am fearful of unhealthy relationships. For whatever reason, the issues I am having feel wrong. As in not normal. Not like morally wrong or anything like that, just not healthy for me and my relationship.
I am only a mother to one person on this planet and a part time mother to one other. I don't see why I need to tell grown ass people that they need to care for themselves. And in basic ways! It is not what I signed on for. Also, I stated early on in the relationship a very clear expectation that the person care for a chronic condition the best they could and I would offer help and guidance as my education and experience allowed.
Does it make me a bad person for not wanting to hand hold and get angry all the time? Can I survive with this long term? Am I wrong for not wanting to coddle someone who is to be my partner? I am angry. Really angry. And confused.
A hundred years ago when Son was in treatment I learned a lot about how to build healthier relationships. I know that I cannot make someone do anything they don't want to. I can't make someone care about things they choose not to. Which may be why I feel like the expectation that I continue to try is so wrong.
Then there is a part that worries that there is a deeper issue at hand than laziness. I take some of it deeply personally. The sleeping for 15 hours at a crack. The expectation that I chase around and make sure everything in place. The disregard for my boundaries. The lack of respect for my beliefs.
I do not wish to spend my life as a constantly bitching shrew. Is that wrong? I don't want to prematurely age myself by being in a consistent state of anger/resentment/frustration. I am making myself sick with it.
This person is a good, decent, upstanding, caring person. It is not a relationship I wish to lose. It a relationship that I am willing to tolerate a certain level of craziness in. I have no doubt this person loves me.
I'm not sure what I can or will do with all of these feelings. Can you stop a relationship with someone based on the fact that they don't take care if themselves and you can't stand to watch or be the person nagging them to do it? Ain't nobody got time for that.
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
Never Ending Winter
Pretty tired of it snowing every other day. So is most of Minnesota, I know. I'm not special in that sense. And the fact that I chose to come back here from the wonderful (yet lonely) life of a travel nurse irritates me a little more each time we are covered in this winter wetness.
Oddly, I don't want to run. That freaks me out a little. I know that I will never travel for work or leisure alone again. I really feel like it wouldn't be as good, as refreshing, as freeing, as it was before. As I roll this over and over in my mind, I realize a couple of things: I am actually committed to my Bulldogge and I am becoming a much different person.
As recently as a year ago I was still on the run. I didn't know if I was running to something or away from something. It didn't matter, I didn't care, I just needed to R-U-N-N-O-F-T ( Like Mrs. Hogwollup in the movie " 'O Brother, Where Art Thou?"). Somewhere in the mountains I figured out: This isn't what I want anymore. I don't need it. I have a home now. Huh...how 'bout that...
I thought that I was going to be rootless for the rest of my life. All that being stationary had taught me was how to avoid getting hit, how to spew an insult so cutting that it goes straight to the bone, how to endure not being loved fully, and how to block out EVERYTHING with music. Those aren't things that I desired for the rest of my life. I wasn't going back to that again.
So, I started running. Even while I was married to The Right Wing King. I would set out as often, as fast, and as long as I could. When I couldn't physically escape, I would take off emotionally. Just disappear and withdraw from everything and everyone, including Son. I drank, I slept for hours and days on end, I blew off my responsibilities with abandon. I ceased to function. Its a miracle I finished nursing school.
Now I am dealing with the repercussions of existing that way. It took several years for Son to trust what I would say. My credit is trashed. My professional life had been in shambles-I have even been called into the Board of Nursing because of it. I struggle daily with remaining sober and sometimes lose the battle. Undoing all this damage has taxed me greatly.
Each successful day is a huge victory for me. It is hard to admit what I have done to myself and my relationships. Even following through with phone calls can be a struggle. I would love to bury myself in my covers and never come out sometimes. It can get pretty dark and hopeless here in my head.
Yet I have gained so much! I don't have to remember lies that I have told. I can call my son without the fear of running into his rage. I can be more open with people. I no longer have to hide behind a fake persona. I am what I am and that's all that I am...Who knew Popeye was such a great philosopher?
Today, looking out at the snow falling down, while I am tired of driving in it I enjoy being home. Home in my house, home in my own body, home in my own mind, and home in the arms of a man that adores me. I have a long way to go to being fully healed but I am hopeful I can make it there.
Oddly, I don't want to run. That freaks me out a little. I know that I will never travel for work or leisure alone again. I really feel like it wouldn't be as good, as refreshing, as freeing, as it was before. As I roll this over and over in my mind, I realize a couple of things: I am actually committed to my Bulldogge and I am becoming a much different person.
As recently as a year ago I was still on the run. I didn't know if I was running to something or away from something. It didn't matter, I didn't care, I just needed to R-U-N-N-O-F-T ( Like Mrs. Hogwollup in the movie " 'O Brother, Where Art Thou?"). Somewhere in the mountains I figured out: This isn't what I want anymore. I don't need it. I have a home now. Huh...how 'bout that...
I thought that I was going to be rootless for the rest of my life. All that being stationary had taught me was how to avoid getting hit, how to spew an insult so cutting that it goes straight to the bone, how to endure not being loved fully, and how to block out EVERYTHING with music. Those aren't things that I desired for the rest of my life. I wasn't going back to that again.
So, I started running. Even while I was married to The Right Wing King. I would set out as often, as fast, and as long as I could. When I couldn't physically escape, I would take off emotionally. Just disappear and withdraw from everything and everyone, including Son. I drank, I slept for hours and days on end, I blew off my responsibilities with abandon. I ceased to function. Its a miracle I finished nursing school.
Now I am dealing with the repercussions of existing that way. It took several years for Son to trust what I would say. My credit is trashed. My professional life had been in shambles-I have even been called into the Board of Nursing because of it. I struggle daily with remaining sober and sometimes lose the battle. Undoing all this damage has taxed me greatly.
Each successful day is a huge victory for me. It is hard to admit what I have done to myself and my relationships. Even following through with phone calls can be a struggle. I would love to bury myself in my covers and never come out sometimes. It can get pretty dark and hopeless here in my head.
Yet I have gained so much! I don't have to remember lies that I have told. I can call my son without the fear of running into his rage. I can be more open with people. I no longer have to hide behind a fake persona. I am what I am and that's all that I am...Who knew Popeye was such a great philosopher?
Today, looking out at the snow falling down, while I am tired of driving in it I enjoy being home. Home in my house, home in my own body, home in my own mind, and home in the arms of a man that adores me. I have a long way to go to being fully healed but I am hopeful I can make it there.
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Happy Birthday, UB!
The Universe (or God, Allah, the Great Spirit, fill in your deity of choice) blessed me with 2 brothers. One older, Mr. Mechanic, who is my same: perfectionist, family first at all costs, love with your whole heart yet trust no one 100%, workaholic, problem solver. And then one younger, UB, who happens to be sometimes all I WISH I could be: Carefree, no dependents, no attachments, do all that is fun, and be beholden to no one. It happens to be UB's birthday, and that always stirs up some feelings.
Do you remember the movie, "The Green Mile"? In it John Coffey says, "He killed them with they love, that's the way it happens all over the world, everyday". In a way that reminds me of the way UB and I were raised. Except I heard, "Blood is thicker than water, and you take care of your brother no matter what".
It has lead to this interesting, symbiotic, enmeshed relationship that sometimes runs my life. I love him and I hate him. He feels the same about me. It may not be 100% healthy. There has never been a time when we apart for very long.
How do I pick the right relationship to follow sometimes? Do I pick what makes ME happy or do I pick what makes US happy? Do I settle on what is most accepting of us as a package with all of our shared weirdness?
When I look at my life, I do not see a time without UB in it. In my therapy I spend a great deal of time working out all of the mismatched feelings I have about my relationship with UB. Can I be healthy and the same person he expects me to be? Can our relationship have healthy boundaries after 36 years? I don't know. It's hard to say.
For now however, I shall say, "Happy Birthday Bob". I am happy you are my brother. I am happy you are in my life. I am blessed that you have stuck by me through all of our ups and downs. I love you even when I hate you. You have always been my best friend and will be until the end of our days. What is it we always say? We are together for the rest of our days? We are together until and when all the others have gone away? Until our last breath we will defend each other. We are the only ones who know what it was like for all those days and nights.
Happy birthday. I am hoping for a great many more. I toast you tonight in the hope that we have a great many more birthdays to spend together. I love you. For real.
Do you remember the movie, "The Green Mile"? In it John Coffey says, "He killed them with they love, that's the way it happens all over the world, everyday". In a way that reminds me of the way UB and I were raised. Except I heard, "Blood is thicker than water, and you take care of your brother no matter what".
It has lead to this interesting, symbiotic, enmeshed relationship that sometimes runs my life. I love him and I hate him. He feels the same about me. It may not be 100% healthy. There has never been a time when we apart for very long.
How do I pick the right relationship to follow sometimes? Do I pick what makes ME happy or do I pick what makes US happy? Do I settle on what is most accepting of us as a package with all of our shared weirdness?
When I look at my life, I do not see a time without UB in it. In my therapy I spend a great deal of time working out all of the mismatched feelings I have about my relationship with UB. Can I be healthy and the same person he expects me to be? Can our relationship have healthy boundaries after 36 years? I don't know. It's hard to say.
For now however, I shall say, "Happy Birthday Bob". I am happy you are my brother. I am happy you are in my life. I am blessed that you have stuck by me through all of our ups and downs. I love you even when I hate you. You have always been my best friend and will be until the end of our days. What is it we always say? We are together for the rest of our days? We are together until and when all the others have gone away? Until our last breath we will defend each other. We are the only ones who know what it was like for all those days and nights.
Happy birthday. I am hoping for a great many more. I toast you tonight in the hope that we have a great many more birthdays to spend together. I love you. For real.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Full on Freak Out
Do you every have one of those mornings when you wake up and think, "I hate pretty much everything about my life at this second?" Okay, that's probably an overstatement, but you get the idea.
I am super tired of how I look physically. I am attempting to eat right, only to allow myself to be sabotaged by "Date Night" or my brother's left over half pack of cookies or White Castle (because you can never eat only one), or the delicious Chinese buffet up the street.
I believe-and have always felt-that my eating reflects my current emotional state; which at this moment is out of control. My house is in a CONSTANT state of chaos, the laundry is never done. No one-myself included a lot of the time-picks up after themselves. There are cheap vodka bottles and discarded clothing in the middle of my living room. There is the ever present bowl of bacon grease at the side of my stove, a nod to my culture-and God forbid you get rid of that! Someone may need it for something. (For the record, I HATE bacon, the vat of grease is probably why.)
This place that I live in, and I have been here a year, I have been unable to move my things out of the garage and into the house as there is simply no place to put things save for my furniture. When I want to discard something, it is suddenly some one's "favorite" whatever. Even if it is an empty box.
I feel so out of control in my life I don't feel like I can even control the slide right now. I feel alone, with not a soul on my side, and that's pretty sad when I live with two people who claim they love me to the moon and back. Even now, after having half a melt down over the Chinese buffet offer, I sit alone and tearful in a room surrounded by dirty socks, a half full pickle jar, some one's nasty dirty pants, and shoes....always fucking shoes. While others mindlessly play video games and sit on the deck leisurely smoking.
This may not be the right situation for me. I am not sure what adjustments need to be made for me to find contentment. I KNOW I am tired of bitching about wanting to eat right and exercise more (even if my leg is broken). My gut says that I MUST trust myself. And that I intrinsically know what is right for me. Let me tell you, dear readers, this is NOT it.
My therapist has told me on more than one occasion, "The healthier you continue to get, the worse "sick" feels". I don't believe she could be more right. I want to tear through this house like and X-Men character to show my displeasure, although that may be a hair dramatic, don't ya think?
I am super tired of how I look physically. I am attempting to eat right, only to allow myself to be sabotaged by "Date Night" or my brother's left over half pack of cookies or White Castle (because you can never eat only one), or the delicious Chinese buffet up the street.
I believe-and have always felt-that my eating reflects my current emotional state; which at this moment is out of control. My house is in a CONSTANT state of chaos, the laundry is never done. No one-myself included a lot of the time-picks up after themselves. There are cheap vodka bottles and discarded clothing in the middle of my living room. There is the ever present bowl of bacon grease at the side of my stove, a nod to my culture-and God forbid you get rid of that! Someone may need it for something. (For the record, I HATE bacon, the vat of grease is probably why.)
This place that I live in, and I have been here a year, I have been unable to move my things out of the garage and into the house as there is simply no place to put things save for my furniture. When I want to discard something, it is suddenly some one's "favorite" whatever. Even if it is an empty box.
I feel so out of control in my life I don't feel like I can even control the slide right now. I feel alone, with not a soul on my side, and that's pretty sad when I live with two people who claim they love me to the moon and back. Even now, after having half a melt down over the Chinese buffet offer, I sit alone and tearful in a room surrounded by dirty socks, a half full pickle jar, some one's nasty dirty pants, and shoes....always fucking shoes. While others mindlessly play video games and sit on the deck leisurely smoking.
This may not be the right situation for me. I am not sure what adjustments need to be made for me to find contentment. I KNOW I am tired of bitching about wanting to eat right and exercise more (even if my leg is broken). My gut says that I MUST trust myself. And that I intrinsically know what is right for me. Let me tell you, dear readers, this is NOT it.
My therapist has told me on more than one occasion, "The healthier you continue to get, the worse "sick" feels". I don't believe she could be more right. I want to tear through this house like and X-Men character to show my displeasure, although that may be a hair dramatic, don't ya think?
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
You and Tequila
I am crazy about my Bulldogge. Everyone knows that. He and I fit together like weird little puzzle pieces. He loves me in a way I have never been loved before...without question. And I love him like crazy. Its a scary proposition for a girl like me.
There are things in my life that drive me to want to run at a cellular level. Whether its that I don't feel worthy or worry that the people around me will find out whatever it is that makes me so unlovable.
And then came the Wyatt Earp to my Doc Holliday. It would've have been SO simple to keep running into the sunset with my running buddy. And its not that its a romantic connection so much, but there's a fondness and tenderness there that is past romantic love.
It feels like an addict's mentality when it comes to running..."If one is good, six HAS to be better". Wyatt Earp understands that running lust. When I talk with him, or cuddle up in his stolen t shirt, or there's a certain soft smell in the air, I get that feeling deep in my gut that makes me long to run.
Sometimes I am jealous of him sipping margaritas in the desert sun. His hat pulled down and cocked ever so slightly sideways to shade his eyes. Some outrageous story on his lips to be told in that Southern-on-crack drawl. I wish to be there with him.
AAANNNNNDDD....then there's the realization that I am becoming a different woman altogether. All my work is starting to come together and make me understand that while it is hard, maybe I deserve a shot at a "regular" life. I like fishing and camping and spending time with my kids and my man.
Wyatt Earp, you may be one of the best friends I have ever had. If you had come along just 3 months sooner, life would be entirely different right now. I have rarely had more fun. Which is why "You and Tequila" fits so well how I feel for you. And that we sang it half drunk in a bar at the beach.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Small Hours
Here I sit, awake yet again in the wee small hours of the night. I have had a cocktail, taken my meds, watched a movie, shoveled my face full of Angel food cake...and yet I remain unable to find the peace of slumber.
Bulldogge speaks of the changes in me since my return from my forray to my beloved Florence. I remind him often that I have required medication to sleep for better than ten years and these bouts are nothing new. Sometimes I envy his ability to sleep.
I long to be free of the secrets that haunt me deep in the night. I long for comfort that does not belong to me. I long for safety from even my own mind. I yearn for understanding from those around me, including myself.
I feel guilty for the safety felt with my cheek resting in the palm of a friend. That memory has sustained me for quite some time. I doubt the owner of the hand even remembers the evening's rest, and yet it helps me find safety in my slumber on many evenings.
Now once more I shall place this weary head on my pillow, listening to the rhythmic snoring of the man next to me. I may be damned for using whatever tools are at my disposal to get tonight's rest. Be that as it may. A girl needs to sleep.
Bulldogge speaks of the changes in me since my return from my forray to my beloved Florence. I remind him often that I have required medication to sleep for better than ten years and these bouts are nothing new. Sometimes I envy his ability to sleep.
I long to be free of the secrets that haunt me deep in the night. I long for comfort that does not belong to me. I long for safety from even my own mind. I yearn for understanding from those around me, including myself.
I feel guilty for the safety felt with my cheek resting in the palm of a friend. That memory has sustained me for quite some time. I doubt the owner of the hand even remembers the evening's rest, and yet it helps me find safety in my slumber on many evenings.
Now once more I shall place this weary head on my pillow, listening to the rhythmic snoring of the man next to me. I may be damned for using whatever tools are at my disposal to get tonight's rest. Be that as it may. A girl needs to sleep.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
The Baby Aches
What's funny is that I thought I was okay and settled with the fact that I can't biologically have any more children. And then I found a man that compliments my life and adds to the new found happiness and freedom I have. Now I'm being greedy and want it ALL! Even if that includes having to find a way to buy child.
Isn't it awful that there are so many roadblocks for people like the Bulldogge and I? Did you know that China has a rule that neither parent can have a BMI higher than 40? The poor Bulldogge would be over a 40 BMI even if he had spent a month in a concentration camp. His BONES have higher than a 40 BMI!! Surrogacy costs well in excess of my annual income. And now most countries have closed their programs to Americans...Even the one we had banked on using, the Marshall Islands.
Our one ace in the hole I feel is that I am a strong Native woman. That qualifies us for a Native adoption. I know this because it was something I had investigated the first time I was married. (Oddly The Right Wing King felt his family wouldn't accept a baby of another race...hmmm...what about the wife and child you already have, fool?) Bulldogge would love a Native baby. He's already said so. He doesn't care, as long as there is always action in our home.
It may take a change of heart for ME. Maybe it is in my future to save and help older kids. Bulldogge and I could bring in any child and be happy. I once went to him and presented my fears that were leftover from my former relationship...you know, race, special needs, etc...he looked at me like I was from another planet and said, "Um, you're part Native and I'm deaf, why would I POSSIBLY have a problem with those things?!?" Damn I love that man.
Who knows where all of this is going to go? We're not even married yet. But when you find what you want forever, you just want it to start NOW.
Isn't it awful that there are so many roadblocks for people like the Bulldogge and I? Did you know that China has a rule that neither parent can have a BMI higher than 40? The poor Bulldogge would be over a 40 BMI even if he had spent a month in a concentration camp. His BONES have higher than a 40 BMI!! Surrogacy costs well in excess of my annual income. And now most countries have closed their programs to Americans...Even the one we had banked on using, the Marshall Islands.
Our one ace in the hole I feel is that I am a strong Native woman. That qualifies us for a Native adoption. I know this because it was something I had investigated the first time I was married. (Oddly The Right Wing King felt his family wouldn't accept a baby of another race...hmmm...what about the wife and child you already have, fool?) Bulldogge would love a Native baby. He's already said so. He doesn't care, as long as there is always action in our home.
It may take a change of heart for ME. Maybe it is in my future to save and help older kids. Bulldogge and I could bring in any child and be happy. I once went to him and presented my fears that were leftover from my former relationship...you know, race, special needs, etc...he looked at me like I was from another planet and said, "Um, you're part Native and I'm deaf, why would I POSSIBLY have a problem with those things?!?" Damn I love that man.
Who knows where all of this is going to go? We're not even married yet. But when you find what you want forever, you just want it to start NOW.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Shake and Bake!
Son turns 20-yes, TWENTY- in the early hours of the morning. I'm not entirely sure that I m ready for that. I don't know that HE'S ready for that. I don't want this to come off as some contrived "I adore Son and our relationship is PERFECT" piece...because that's not reality.
There are so many things that we haven't talked over that I want to, but I never know if its the right time. I know that on a certain level he must have anger towards me for so many unanswered questions and things that he remembers through the eyes of a small child. And I wonder about his feelings on the past. Maybe he is like the Baboon in "The Lion King"..."You can't change it, it is in he past"...but there are million things I would like to explain.
I am so amazed at the man he is becoming. He is a hard headed SOB, that's for sure. Son will find a way to make what he wants happen. Its incredible. He is not just a dreamer who never see his dreams to fruition. If Son says he will, it will be done before I have time to think about it twice. Son can bust down walls!
Caring is a word I would use to describe my boy. He is so good to the Tiger and probably the only person in the world that the Tiger trusts. Son wears his heart on his sleeve. His feelings are right on the surface and that must be hard sometimes. Okay, I know how hard that is, since I have the same struggle.
So on his birthday, I hope Son knows that I respect him. That I LIKE him. I would choose him for a friend. I want him to know that I want to keep working on our relationship. My hope is that he understands that he can come to me with any questions...and I do mean ANY question. We will continue to grow and change but we can still love each other. Family-true family-is all anyone can count on in this world.
Magic Man, this is El Diablo reminding you....SHAKE AND BAKE! YOU'LL BE MY BEST FRIEND FOREVER!
There are so many things that we haven't talked over that I want to, but I never know if its the right time. I know that on a certain level he must have anger towards me for so many unanswered questions and things that he remembers through the eyes of a small child. And I wonder about his feelings on the past. Maybe he is like the Baboon in "The Lion King"..."You can't change it, it is in he past"...but there are million things I would like to explain.
I am so amazed at the man he is becoming. He is a hard headed SOB, that's for sure. Son will find a way to make what he wants happen. Its incredible. He is not just a dreamer who never see his dreams to fruition. If Son says he will, it will be done before I have time to think about it twice. Son can bust down walls!
Caring is a word I would use to describe my boy. He is so good to the Tiger and probably the only person in the world that the Tiger trusts. Son wears his heart on his sleeve. His feelings are right on the surface and that must be hard sometimes. Okay, I know how hard that is, since I have the same struggle.
So on his birthday, I hope Son knows that I respect him. That I LIKE him. I would choose him for a friend. I want him to know that I want to keep working on our relationship. My hope is that he understands that he can come to me with any questions...and I do mean ANY question. We will continue to grow and change but we can still love each other. Family-true family-is all anyone can count on in this world.
Magic Man, this is El Diablo reminding you....SHAKE AND BAKE! YOU'LL BE MY BEST FRIEND FOREVER!
Tuesday, December 25, 2012
So This is Christmas
I have always hated Christmas. It has represented this forced idea of family perfection to me. And like most things connected to my childhood has always made me feel inadequate. I was pretty far from the perfect child in a wildly imperfect family. I swear that even at eight years old I knew that the forced family time was most CERTAINLY not for me.
My response to my previous experience has been to stop exchanging gifts in my family. I figured it would lower the pressure threshold for everyone. We instead roll dice and win our gifts. The gifts then are not so much the focus and the family time is. No one really cares if they win Silly Putty and Antonio Banderas cologne. It's just that we laugh and joke and play for a few hours as friends and feel beloved.
This year I spent my first Christmas with the Bulldogge, the Irish Pope, an the rest of their family. Let me admit this: When we left, I cried. In my entire married life I never unwrapped a present except from my son. I had never received a gift from my in- laws. I bought my own gifts from the Right Wing King. In fact, I do not believe that I have received a gift that I didn't pick since Son was born.
It hit me hard to feel love. It surprised me to be thought of and appreciated and liked. I wanted to hug my new mother and sister in law hard and never ever let go. I wanted to express how special they had made me feel. For once I wanted to spill the beans about what my life had been. Mostly because I know that it wouldn't matter and that my MIL would just have held me and rocked me until I was cried out and then fed me a cookie.
So I have learned about what I was missing. I am figuring out how awesome this family can be. There are safe people beyond Son, BMD, The Tiger, and UB. I am a lucky, lucky, lucky girl. Not only do I get the awesome guy, I get the love of his family as well.
Well, this is one of the giant steps I am taking in owning my life. Accepting that I am love worthy. And not just by a man. By many.
My response to my previous experience has been to stop exchanging gifts in my family. I figured it would lower the pressure threshold for everyone. We instead roll dice and win our gifts. The gifts then are not so much the focus and the family time is. No one really cares if they win Silly Putty and Antonio Banderas cologne. It's just that we laugh and joke and play for a few hours as friends and feel beloved.
This year I spent my first Christmas with the Bulldogge, the Irish Pope, an the rest of their family. Let me admit this: When we left, I cried. In my entire married life I never unwrapped a present except from my son. I had never received a gift from my in- laws. I bought my own gifts from the Right Wing King. In fact, I do not believe that I have received a gift that I didn't pick since Son was born.
It hit me hard to feel love. It surprised me to be thought of and appreciated and liked. I wanted to hug my new mother and sister in law hard and never ever let go. I wanted to express how special they had made me feel. For once I wanted to spill the beans about what my life had been. Mostly because I know that it wouldn't matter and that my MIL would just have held me and rocked me until I was cried out and then fed me a cookie.
So I have learned about what I was missing. I am figuring out how awesome this family can be. There are safe people beyond Son, BMD, The Tiger, and UB. I am a lucky, lucky, lucky girl. Not only do I get the awesome guy, I get the love of his family as well.
Well, this is one of the giant steps I am taking in owning my life. Accepting that I am love worthy. And not just by a man. By many.
Friday, December 14, 2012
My Time is Now
I am going to change my life. Like BIG change. I am going to start doing what makes me happy. Without worrying about if it makes me look crazier than I already do.
I have decided to love myself. To like myself. To see myself the way many others see me. I am going to convince myself that I am worth working for.
I am tired of beating myself up and treating myself like garbage. I am like an addict in my insanity and mistreatment of myself. I will accept anything. And it feels pretty rotten. Especially since I am allowing myself to do it.
There are no reasons left to discount myself. I am getting the help I need. I have the love and acceptance of an outstanding man. My son is grown and is such a fine young man. It is my time. Now I will chase down what I have every right to have.
It is time to pick up my guitars again. Its time to take out my anger with muay tai lessons. I will force my man into dance leasons. I am going to become a doctor. My wardrobe will be beautiful and bold, like the woman that wears it.
So my Christmas present to myself is love and acceptance. Yay me! Wish me luck, and love, and happiness
I have decided to love myself. To like myself. To see myself the way many others see me. I am going to convince myself that I am worth working for.
I am tired of beating myself up and treating myself like garbage. I am like an addict in my insanity and mistreatment of myself. I will accept anything. And it feels pretty rotten. Especially since I am allowing myself to do it.
There are no reasons left to discount myself. I am getting the help I need. I have the love and acceptance of an outstanding man. My son is grown and is such a fine young man. It is my time. Now I will chase down what I have every right to have.
It is time to pick up my guitars again. Its time to take out my anger with muay tai lessons. I will force my man into dance leasons. I am going to become a doctor. My wardrobe will be beautiful and bold, like the woman that wears it.
So my Christmas present to myself is love and acceptance. Yay me! Wish me luck, and love, and happiness
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
The Difference
Today's musing are in response to something the Bulldogge asks all the time. He really does. (For you pelicans who think you know everything about the Bulldogge, you don't live with him. What you see isn't always what you get)
Bulldogge is constantly bugging me about why my feelings are different for him than they are for Fuzzy Face. I think that Bulldogge has this notion that my feelings for him are somehow inferior to those that I have for Fuzzy. So my hope is to clear this up for him.
My sweet Bulldogge, you are strong and single minded. Being with you is sometimes a challenge for me since I feel like you have this notion of love and romance that is not me at all. And yes, you have to work hard at the fun stuff. I am sometimes scared of talking to you about things because I know that you won't give your opinion. If I ask you, I WANT to know what you think. Its important to me. "Whatever you want is fine." is like your classic line. That puts too much pressure on me. What if I choose wrong? It makes me feel like you are uninvolved in the relationship. It scares me and makes me feel alone.
However, your strength means safety. No one will ever get to hurt me again. And you make me laugh all the time. And you are man beautiful. And anything worth having is worth working for. Even if I have to learn a whole new language to do it! Oh, and even though it scares me to death, I love you.
On the flip side, we have Fuzzy Face. He is all about a good time. I can tell him anything at anytime. I miss being lead into a room like a prize. I miss banter and flirting and harassing each other all the time. I miss reading the newspaper at a cafe in the morning. I miss snuggling with him and the girls. I sometimes miss that feeling of BELONGING with someone else. I miss the giant sigh of relief as I walk through the doorway to his house that whatever is bothering me can be forgotten.
Fuzzy Face likes women too much though. He's like a kid at Christmas with a giant box of chocolates that just wants to find out what flavor each one is. He'll crack its shell, or take a nibble of this one, or a lick of that one. Which many women can understand and handle. But I just can't. I want it ALL. The love, the passion, the friendship, the family, and to be enough for my man. I don't think that I alone can or will ever meet all his needs. I wish him luck in his search.
So there you have it. While Fuzzy Face is a ton of fun, being with him will never give me what I want in the long run. Yes, I love and have loved him. However, Bulldogge is the right man in the right place at the right time. Our goals are the same and while he frustrates me, I can see myself as a little old lady drinking cocktails and rocking on a porch with him someplace sunny. When I touch the Bulldogge's cheek I feel genuine love there. The man waited a long time for me.
And NO, I am not settling. I have always had a choice. I think I am making the right one.
Oh, and I got involved with the Bulldogge, so it is partly my fault that I am not enough for Fuzzy. I have not been fully available. Even so, I doubt that in the end Fuzzy would ever choose me.
Bulldogge is constantly bugging me about why my feelings are different for him than they are for Fuzzy Face. I think that Bulldogge has this notion that my feelings for him are somehow inferior to those that I have for Fuzzy. So my hope is to clear this up for him.
My sweet Bulldogge, you are strong and single minded. Being with you is sometimes a challenge for me since I feel like you have this notion of love and romance that is not me at all. And yes, you have to work hard at the fun stuff. I am sometimes scared of talking to you about things because I know that you won't give your opinion. If I ask you, I WANT to know what you think. Its important to me. "Whatever you want is fine." is like your classic line. That puts too much pressure on me. What if I choose wrong? It makes me feel like you are uninvolved in the relationship. It scares me and makes me feel alone.
However, your strength means safety. No one will ever get to hurt me again. And you make me laugh all the time. And you are man beautiful. And anything worth having is worth working for. Even if I have to learn a whole new language to do it! Oh, and even though it scares me to death, I love you.
On the flip side, we have Fuzzy Face. He is all about a good time. I can tell him anything at anytime. I miss being lead into a room like a prize. I miss banter and flirting and harassing each other all the time. I miss reading the newspaper at a cafe in the morning. I miss snuggling with him and the girls. I sometimes miss that feeling of BELONGING with someone else. I miss the giant sigh of relief as I walk through the doorway to his house that whatever is bothering me can be forgotten.
Fuzzy Face likes women too much though. He's like a kid at Christmas with a giant box of chocolates that just wants to find out what flavor each one is. He'll crack its shell, or take a nibble of this one, or a lick of that one. Which many women can understand and handle. But I just can't. I want it ALL. The love, the passion, the friendship, the family, and to be enough for my man. I don't think that I alone can or will ever meet all his needs. I wish him luck in his search.
So there you have it. While Fuzzy Face is a ton of fun, being with him will never give me what I want in the long run. Yes, I love and have loved him. However, Bulldogge is the right man in the right place at the right time. Our goals are the same and while he frustrates me, I can see myself as a little old lady drinking cocktails and rocking on a porch with him someplace sunny. When I touch the Bulldogge's cheek I feel genuine love there. The man waited a long time for me.
And NO, I am not settling. I have always had a choice. I think I am making the right one.
Oh, and I got involved with the Bulldogge, so it is partly my fault that I am not enough for Fuzzy. I have not been fully available. Even so, I doubt that in the end Fuzzy would ever choose me.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Thanksgiving
As a rule, I do not enjoy the traditional holidays. But as I am growing and becoming more healthy I am realizing that I am allowed to build my own traditions for my family. And this year I have plenty in my heart to be grateful for and I have decided to share some of it with you, dear readers.
I am thankful that I have survived my first year post divorce. It has been very difficult for me to attempt to rebuild my life. It has been hard to learn to handle things myself and not always have someone to solve my problems for me. My marriage was by NO means a picnic or even remotely healthy in its final years, but having to do and face so much alone has been very challenging for me.
I am thankful that Son is growing into such a fine young man (even though I'm not supposed to write about him). He is so good with The Tiger and managing things for him. Like last night when Son was working on my car, he had The Tiger right there next to him as his assistant, like its the most natural thing in the world. Their relationship is beautiful. I am amazed at his wisdom and his abilities at his age. I now not only love him because he is my son, I like and respect the person that he is becoming. Its finally all coming together for him and I couldn't be prouder.
I am thankful for the BMD. She puts up with a lot and still chooses to be a member of our family. She is such a beautiful, ethereal creature. She looks so fragile, but she is one of the strongest women I've ever met.
I am thankful for my work. I am proud of being a nurse and working with people, even the ones that drive me crazy.
I am thankful for the Bulldogge and our continued efforts to build something together. He really loves me...even if at times he is a little over enthusiastic about it. I guess that is just the Bulldogge in him. I hope that we can strike a balance and figure each other out.
I am thankful the the Vikings are having a pretty good season.
I am thankful for my dear friend Fuzzy Face. What can I say about him that I haven't already? He makes a good sounding board and challenges me to go after what I deserve. I do still wanna kick him in the shin for breaking my heart a couple of times. But when you care for someone you have to care about ALL the parts of them, not just the ones you like.
I am thankful for the Busty Bus Driver and the Liquor Lunch Lady for their friendship and support. We always have such a great time and laugh until our sides hurt. I am glad I can text BBD anytime I want to kill someone and she makes it all okay again.
I am thankful that the marriage amendment passed. Love is love and who the hell has the right to say who someone can be married to. Marriage DOES make a difference. Its not "just a piece of paper" and it does change the tone of a relationship.
I am thankful for my brilliant therapist! Without all of her hard work and dedication I would not be here to celebrate this year. Of this I am certain. She has helped make my life livable and enjoyable!
I am thankful for The Tiger and his unwavering love for me. I will have a man in my life that loves me that much and thinks that I am a precious jewel one of these days. He was my first love and is truly my hero. I cannot believe the strength he has every day. The Tiger amazes me in his ferocity and his gentleness. He make me smile from my heart.
Alright, dear readers, I am getting long winded. Go and enjoy your feasts.
I am thankful that I have survived my first year post divorce. It has been very difficult for me to attempt to rebuild my life. It has been hard to learn to handle things myself and not always have someone to solve my problems for me. My marriage was by NO means a picnic or even remotely healthy in its final years, but having to do and face so much alone has been very challenging for me.
I am thankful that Son is growing into such a fine young man (even though I'm not supposed to write about him). He is so good with The Tiger and managing things for him. Like last night when Son was working on my car, he had The Tiger right there next to him as his assistant, like its the most natural thing in the world. Their relationship is beautiful. I am amazed at his wisdom and his abilities at his age. I now not only love him because he is my son, I like and respect the person that he is becoming. Its finally all coming together for him and I couldn't be prouder.
I am thankful for the BMD. She puts up with a lot and still chooses to be a member of our family. She is such a beautiful, ethereal creature. She looks so fragile, but she is one of the strongest women I've ever met.
I am thankful for my work. I am proud of being a nurse and working with people, even the ones that drive me crazy.
I am thankful for the Bulldogge and our continued efforts to build something together. He really loves me...even if at times he is a little over enthusiastic about it. I guess that is just the Bulldogge in him. I hope that we can strike a balance and figure each other out.
I am thankful the the Vikings are having a pretty good season.
I am thankful for my dear friend Fuzzy Face. What can I say about him that I haven't already? He makes a good sounding board and challenges me to go after what I deserve. I do still wanna kick him in the shin for breaking my heart a couple of times. But when you care for someone you have to care about ALL the parts of them, not just the ones you like.
I am thankful for the Busty Bus Driver and the Liquor Lunch Lady for their friendship and support. We always have such a great time and laugh until our sides hurt. I am glad I can text BBD anytime I want to kill someone and she makes it all okay again.
I am thankful that the marriage amendment passed. Love is love and who the hell has the right to say who someone can be married to. Marriage DOES make a difference. Its not "just a piece of paper" and it does change the tone of a relationship.
I am thankful for my brilliant therapist! Without all of her hard work and dedication I would not be here to celebrate this year. Of this I am certain. She has helped make my life livable and enjoyable!
I am thankful for The Tiger and his unwavering love for me. I will have a man in my life that loves me that much and thinks that I am a precious jewel one of these days. He was my first love and is truly my hero. I cannot believe the strength he has every day. The Tiger amazes me in his ferocity and his gentleness. He make me smile from my heart.
Alright, dear readers, I am getting long winded. Go and enjoy your feasts.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Mitch
I want to scream at the top of my lungs that I hate you, you son of a bitch; I hate you for my feeling this way, so lost and forlorn and just not good enough. I hate you for being out with someone obviously more seductive and sexy and smarter and funnier and wittier than me.
And then I remember that this is mostly my fault. I moved on. Or at least I wanted to and thought that I had. I pushed you aside, not the other way around. Fuck I'm stupid. I think I knew it at the time too. Ultimately I hurt someone else who probably really does love me.
Even then, in the final days of us being together, I never felt like I was enough to sustain your interest or passion. Why do I keep hoping? What drives me to this insane place that says that tomorrow morning you will wake up and love me. Only me?
I stare at this page through unshed tears. I told you not long ago that I didn't want to live a life where I didn't jump for what I want. And you said, "If you are interested in losing the drama in your life let me know". Why didn't you tell me then that there was another, better, prettier woman who is ENOUGH? More than I can be to you? More than worth the effort? I believed you. I bought it. You got me.
When will I get to be more than a warm body in your bed? Do I even want to be? My hope is that I learn from this. I hope that I learn that I have to stand up for myself faster. Speak my mind and heart without fear of being thought crazy. And to jump. Jump when my gut (and my heart) says the time is right and not when my brain gives me permission.
My heartache is lessening each day. I am not hopeful about the probability of there ever being an "us". I am growing and moving on. It blows, let me tell you. For a girl who has spent much of her life not feeling to feel that much heartache all at once was indescribable. At least now I know that there is hope for me to have emotions, REAL ones.
For that, I will be forever in your debt. Thank you. Really, I mean it.
And then I remember that this is mostly my fault. I moved on. Or at least I wanted to and thought that I had. I pushed you aside, not the other way around. Fuck I'm stupid. I think I knew it at the time too. Ultimately I hurt someone else who probably really does love me.
Even then, in the final days of us being together, I never felt like I was enough to sustain your interest or passion. Why do I keep hoping? What drives me to this insane place that says that tomorrow morning you will wake up and love me. Only me?
I stare at this page through unshed tears. I told you not long ago that I didn't want to live a life where I didn't jump for what I want. And you said, "If you are interested in losing the drama in your life let me know". Why didn't you tell me then that there was another, better, prettier woman who is ENOUGH? More than I can be to you? More than worth the effort? I believed you. I bought it. You got me.
When will I get to be more than a warm body in your bed? Do I even want to be? My hope is that I learn from this. I hope that I learn that I have to stand up for myself faster. Speak my mind and heart without fear of being thought crazy. And to jump. Jump when my gut (and my heart) says the time is right and not when my brain gives me permission.
My heartache is lessening each day. I am not hopeful about the probability of there ever being an "us". I am growing and moving on. It blows, let me tell you. For a girl who has spent much of her life not feeling to feel that much heartache all at once was indescribable. At least now I know that there is hope for me to have emotions, REAL ones.
For that, I will be forever in your debt. Thank you. Really, I mean it.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
What the Hell am I Doing?
I know love. I have smelled it, had it smack me in the ass, tasted it, heard love whisper in my ear, and seen it in the eyes of another. When it showed up I knew exactly what it was. Of course I ran like hell.
Love seems so dangerous to me. At least real love does. The one that found me does. Is this how it is for everyone? It means opening up and laying bare all of one's secrets. I didn't even get to do that on my own schedule...the person that cares for me can see all of my mess. Right through all of my cover up and well rehearsed lines. Dammit!
The challenge is that I messed up. I freaked out. Not only did I take off like a fat kid for a Krispy Kreme, I decided to try my luck elsewhere. Not a good idea. Dangerous of an entirely different kind.
I am sad. I want my love. It may be unconventional. That's okay, when we are together nothing else matters, and I am certain that I am the only one he has eyes for.
Now the trick is to get healthy. I want to be the best I can be. Even if my love isn't coming back when I figure my next move out. (Oh he is fabulous. And he digs me!)
I'm excited. Life is going to be good. Even if its not what I am expecting.
Love seems so dangerous to me. At least real love does. The one that found me does. Is this how it is for everyone? It means opening up and laying bare all of one's secrets. I didn't even get to do that on my own schedule...the person that cares for me can see all of my mess. Right through all of my cover up and well rehearsed lines. Dammit!
The challenge is that I messed up. I freaked out. Not only did I take off like a fat kid for a Krispy Kreme, I decided to try my luck elsewhere. Not a good idea. Dangerous of an entirely different kind.
I am sad. I want my love. It may be unconventional. That's okay, when we are together nothing else matters, and I am certain that I am the only one he has eyes for.
Now the trick is to get healthy. I want to be the best I can be. Even if my love isn't coming back when I figure my next move out. (Oh he is fabulous. And he digs me!)
I'm excited. Life is going to be good. Even if its not what I am expecting.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
A Little Something to Dream On
Some may call it a "Bucket List". I, however, look at more like a "To-Do List". My dreams may seem trivial, but wait until I start doing some of them...then it will look like an adventure. One also has to consider the source...I was told growing up to not expect more than a husband and a child. My dreams were to be for them and not for me. My dreams are becoming my own finally. I am working hard to build the life I always knew I could have. Its a rocky road, and I have made some mistakes. I am going to get there.
So! This is The Fat Girl's To-Do List:
-Ride a mechanical bull
-Vacation at a dude ranch
-Dance on a bar
-Tent camp in Montana
-Learn to surf
-Visit Hank Williams's grave
-Drive my old truck to Alaska
-Join the Peace Corps
-Sing in Nashville (even if its karaoke)
-Buy myself a Ford Bronco
-Find true love
-Eat in a Gordon Ramsay restaurant
-Touch the Hollywood sign
-Take flying lessons
-Own an outrageously expensive pair of jeans
-Picnic in Central Park
-Kiss someone I adore under the Eiffel Tower
-Hug Big Bird
-Feel an Elephant's skin
-Drive in a demo derby
-Meet my youngest niece
-Put my feet into every body of salt water on earth
-Smell flowers in Bali
That's a start, don't you think? I'm sure I will come up with more as time goes on. The existing list is ambitious enough for now. I wanted to have it formally documented so that I knew where I am headed. Wish me luck.
So! This is The Fat Girl's To-Do List:
-Ride a mechanical bull
-Vacation at a dude ranch
-Dance on a bar
-Tent camp in Montana
-Learn to surf
-Visit Hank Williams's grave
-Drive my old truck to Alaska
-Join the Peace Corps
-Sing in Nashville (even if its karaoke)
-Buy myself a Ford Bronco
-Find true love
-Eat in a Gordon Ramsay restaurant
-Touch the Hollywood sign
-Take flying lessons
-Own an outrageously expensive pair of jeans
-Picnic in Central Park
-Kiss someone I adore under the Eiffel Tower
-Hug Big Bird
-Feel an Elephant's skin
-Drive in a demo derby
-Meet my youngest niece
-Put my feet into every body of salt water on earth
-Smell flowers in Bali
That's a start, don't you think? I'm sure I will come up with more as time goes on. The existing list is ambitious enough for now. I wanted to have it formally documented so that I knew where I am headed. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Suspicious Minds
Bulldogge goes through my phone. He can try to say that he doesn't, but he does. It is irritating to me. Its not like I hide my password or anything, I just believe in a certain level of privacy.
What is making me so crazy over the issue is that he will claim that "someone" anonymously sent him screenshots of text message conversations over Facebook. And when I ask to see them he tells me that he deleted them. Or that "someone" from such and such a number called Bulldogge and didn't leave a message. I don't know about anyone else, but since the invention of cell phones I have not memorized a phone number. So rattling one off to me in general will not trigger an instant recognition of who it is. (I looked up the number in question in my phone, it is our good friend Fuzzy Face! Which as I write this I realize Bulldogge probably got from hacking my Facebook)
Lately Bulldogge has been asking me to write what I would normally put into a blog in a notebook instead. Um, hell no. There are countless started and discarded blogs that mean nothing out of the exact moment in which it is written. I don't want to have an exact accounting of every negative feeling or daydream of a different sort of life available for consumption to a man who uses my words as weapons. What I publish are issues that I need advice, or clarity, or resolution on.
For the record, I have in the past been that crazy girlfriend that goes through her man's phone. I did it to one person in particular and it didn't go as well as I hoped. That person and I have too good an understanding of one another and he knew exactly what I was doing. Also, I think I am a really bad liar.
I wonder what kind of answers Bulldogge is seeking? Why not ask the questions directly? I am honest to a fault. I try to live in such a way that I am no longer ashamed of myself. So what holds him back? What makes him feel like violating my privacy will bring us closer as a couple? I fear it will backfire on him.
What is making me so crazy over the issue is that he will claim that "someone" anonymously sent him screenshots of text message conversations over Facebook. And when I ask to see them he tells me that he deleted them. Or that "someone" from such and such a number called Bulldogge and didn't leave a message. I don't know about anyone else, but since the invention of cell phones I have not memorized a phone number. So rattling one off to me in general will not trigger an instant recognition of who it is. (I looked up the number in question in my phone, it is our good friend Fuzzy Face! Which as I write this I realize Bulldogge probably got from hacking my Facebook)
Lately Bulldogge has been asking me to write what I would normally put into a blog in a notebook instead. Um, hell no. There are countless started and discarded blogs that mean nothing out of the exact moment in which it is written. I don't want to have an exact accounting of every negative feeling or daydream of a different sort of life available for consumption to a man who uses my words as weapons. What I publish are issues that I need advice, or clarity, or resolution on.
For the record, I have in the past been that crazy girlfriend that goes through her man's phone. I did it to one person in particular and it didn't go as well as I hoped. That person and I have too good an understanding of one another and he knew exactly what I was doing. Also, I think I am a really bad liar.
I wonder what kind of answers Bulldogge is seeking? Why not ask the questions directly? I am honest to a fault. I try to live in such a way that I am no longer ashamed of myself. So what holds him back? What makes him feel like violating my privacy will bring us closer as a couple? I fear it will backfire on him.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Mythical UB
Here is something I have never written about: my brother Bob. He will be lovingly referred to from here on out as UB. Does anyone else remember the movie "Uncle Buck"? That's pretty much my brother. Well, minus the car. And front teeth. But the lovable, irresponsible dude with a big heart? That's him.
I have yet to figure out what it is about him that children and animals find irresistible. He smells bad. And he's not like a Wall Street banker or a superhero or something. He's just a dude. A stinky, funny, clothes-too-big, pants-up-shirt-down guy who hides his dirty dishes.
I wanted SO badly to write this lighthearted, "my brother boarders on retarded" article about him. Now that I am here, however, it most likely won't work out that way.
Recently I asked UB to live with the Bulldogge and me. I have always said that there was no way on God's green earth that I would let him live with me. I do not trust him as a rule. I mean, we have an extensive unhealthy history together. Our lives have been enmeshed from the minute we met.
Now though I want to help him get healthy. I have always lead the way, or was supposed to. I want him here to see me becoming happy and put together so I can show him how he can do that too. I want him to find for himself just a shred of peace and hope.
I cannot decide if I am being unrealistic or not. I don't even know if he wants more out of his life. Maybe he's happy. But that is not what I see. I see the weight of his regret bringing him down. I can feel his unspoken pain, rage, and unhappiness. For heaven's sake, we are practically twins. How does the man think he can hide anything from me?
UB is my closest friend. He witnessed the trauma I keep hidden even from myself. I understand what has made him the lost soul he is today. I will catch him every time he falls. Every. Single. Time. I do not stand in judgement of UB, I know he is navigating the world without even the stars to guide him. It might be up to me to show him the way out.
Now, don't get me wrong. I will always think he's a disgusting, piggy, loudmouth, lush that smells like ass crack. But he is also the only person who knows why "PeeWee's Big Adventure" is my favorite movie.
I have yet to figure out what it is about him that children and animals find irresistible. He smells bad. And he's not like a Wall Street banker or a superhero or something. He's just a dude. A stinky, funny, clothes-too-big, pants-up-shirt-down guy who hides his dirty dishes.
I wanted SO badly to write this lighthearted, "my brother boarders on retarded" article about him. Now that I am here, however, it most likely won't work out that way.
Recently I asked UB to live with the Bulldogge and me. I have always said that there was no way on God's green earth that I would let him live with me. I do not trust him as a rule. I mean, we have an extensive unhealthy history together. Our lives have been enmeshed from the minute we met.
Now though I want to help him get healthy. I have always lead the way, or was supposed to. I want him here to see me becoming happy and put together so I can show him how he can do that too. I want him to find for himself just a shred of peace and hope.
I cannot decide if I am being unrealistic or not. I don't even know if he wants more out of his life. Maybe he's happy. But that is not what I see. I see the weight of his regret bringing him down. I can feel his unspoken pain, rage, and unhappiness. For heaven's sake, we are practically twins. How does the man think he can hide anything from me?
UB is my closest friend. He witnessed the trauma I keep hidden even from myself. I understand what has made him the lost soul he is today. I will catch him every time he falls. Every. Single. Time. I do not stand in judgement of UB, I know he is navigating the world without even the stars to guide him. It might be up to me to show him the way out.
Now, don't get me wrong. I will always think he's a disgusting, piggy, loudmouth, lush that smells like ass crack. But he is also the only person who knows why "PeeWee's Big Adventure" is my favorite movie.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Playlist
As I listen to the smooth notes played on slide guitar it feels like the blankets from your bed wrapped around me. Certain passages of lyrics remind me of the scenery that I pass on the way to be with you. I am moved on a very primal level when I hear what I term "your" music.
Music reminds the body of where it's been. It hardwires sensory information to the reptile brain. And you my dear, moved me in ways I didn't know existed. I have alternately loved and loathed you for it. Nothing comes close...no drug or drink or distraction can erase the things you bring out in me. I cannot escape the scope or depth of my reaction to you.
Saying that I love you is far too simple. I have loved in my life and this is more than that. Obsession may be a more apt term. With you I can surrender who the world sees me as...you get the best of me and bring out the best in me. I can find safety knowing you protect me even from myself....
How did I land here? Reclined in a bathtub listening to melodies that are almost torture to my pleasure sensors? Why are we not tangled up in each other, laughing, kissing, cuddling, teasing and ultimately getting the best sleep we will have all week? Oh! That's right...I have convinced myself that I am conventional and cookie cutter and together we are distinctly NOT.
So, I know everyone is curious to know the songs that evoke such emotion within me. Here goes:
"Someone Like You" by Kings of Leon
"Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayer
"In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel
"Sex on Fire" by KOL
"Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence
"Porn Star Dancing" by My Darkest Days
"Somewhere With You" by Kenny Chesney
"Powerful Stuff" by Sean Hayes
"Drunk on You" by Luke Bryan
"Edge of Desire" by John Mayer
"Alone With You" by Jake Owen
"Come Over" by Kenny Chesney
"Right Here" by Staind
"Dirt Road Anthem" by Jason Aldean
There it is. I hope you listen to "Somewhere With You" and "Edge of Desire" most of all. I'm pretty sure that you don't love me anymore, but I can't say the same most of the time. Quit ignoring me.
Music reminds the body of where it's been. It hardwires sensory information to the reptile brain. And you my dear, moved me in ways I didn't know existed. I have alternately loved and loathed you for it. Nothing comes close...no drug or drink or distraction can erase the things you bring out in me. I cannot escape the scope or depth of my reaction to you.
Saying that I love you is far too simple. I have loved in my life and this is more than that. Obsession may be a more apt term. With you I can surrender who the world sees me as...you get the best of me and bring out the best in me. I can find safety knowing you protect me even from myself....
How did I land here? Reclined in a bathtub listening to melodies that are almost torture to my pleasure sensors? Why are we not tangled up in each other, laughing, kissing, cuddling, teasing and ultimately getting the best sleep we will have all week? Oh! That's right...I have convinced myself that I am conventional and cookie cutter and together we are distinctly NOT.
So, I know everyone is curious to know the songs that evoke such emotion within me. Here goes:
"Someone Like You" by Kings of Leon
"Heartbreak Warfare" by John Mayer
"In Your Eyes" by Peter Gabriel
"Sex on Fire" by KOL
"Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence
"Porn Star Dancing" by My Darkest Days
"Somewhere With You" by Kenny Chesney
"Powerful Stuff" by Sean Hayes
"Drunk on You" by Luke Bryan
"Edge of Desire" by John Mayer
"Alone With You" by Jake Owen
"Come Over" by Kenny Chesney
"Right Here" by Staind
"Dirt Road Anthem" by Jason Aldean
There it is. I hope you listen to "Somewhere With You" and "Edge of Desire" most of all. I'm pretty sure that you don't love me anymore, but I can't say the same most of the time. Quit ignoring me.
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Cutting
Hi. My name is Karin and I am a recovering cutter. I am bringing this up because tonight I would like little more than to take a scissors and run it across the soft white skin on the inside of my left forearm.
The sweet warm relaxing feeling of the mental anguish draining from my body would be a welcome relief right about now. It has been my drug of choice, my secret vice for quite sometime now. I am so ashamed of it but at times I have needed it so badly.
I admitted to the Bulldogge tonight that cutting was something that I had done in the past. When I explained to him what it was and why I chose to do it, he left the room and has yet to return. I am not quite sure how to interpret this. I am about 95% certain that he is disgusted with it and with me as well.
My warning has always been that I am a scratch and dent person, not pristine by any means, but well
worth the effort to overlook my flaws. And I AM in fact working on my issues including the cutting. I am not sure how I feel about this latest rejection. If nothing else it has gotten my mind over obsessing over letting the pain out.
For the record, the last time I cut was just over a year ago. Just about the time my divorce started. In this moment it would feel excellent to drag the blade over my skin; just enough to break it open, but not enough to have a pool of blood form. The emotional release of it is almost as euphoric as an orgasm...with its instantaneous release of pressure and waves of satisfying relief mixed with sheer pleasure that wash over you.
Tonight so far has been a victory. I have not cut or harmed myself. I want to desperately however. But I am taking each moment, each emotion, each thought as it comes and doing my best to handle them as they move through me and past me.
Wish me luck, dear readers, for I will need it. And thank you for standing by me and listening to my ramblings.
The sweet warm relaxing feeling of the mental anguish draining from my body would be a welcome relief right about now. It has been my drug of choice, my secret vice for quite sometime now. I am so ashamed of it but at times I have needed it so badly.
I admitted to the Bulldogge tonight that cutting was something that I had done in the past. When I explained to him what it was and why I chose to do it, he left the room and has yet to return. I am not quite sure how to interpret this. I am about 95% certain that he is disgusted with it and with me as well.
My warning has always been that I am a scratch and dent person, not pristine by any means, but well
worth the effort to overlook my flaws. And I AM in fact working on my issues including the cutting. I am not sure how I feel about this latest rejection. If nothing else it has gotten my mind over obsessing over letting the pain out.
For the record, the last time I cut was just over a year ago. Just about the time my divorce started. In this moment it would feel excellent to drag the blade over my skin; just enough to break it open, but not enough to have a pool of blood form. The emotional release of it is almost as euphoric as an orgasm...with its instantaneous release of pressure and waves of satisfying relief mixed with sheer pleasure that wash over you.
Tonight so far has been a victory. I have not cut or harmed myself. I want to desperately however. But I am taking each moment, each emotion, each thought as it comes and doing my best to handle them as they move through me and past me.
Wish me luck, dear readers, for I will need it. And thank you for standing by me and listening to my ramblings.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
I Don't Know What to Call This
I'm pretty sure tonight's entry is going to piss some people off and has the potential to hurt a few others....SIGH...but my brain is so full I have to do something with it or I risk losing my sanity.
About a week ago I was with someone that loves me a great deal and they asked-or well rather TOLD-me to be 100% genuine with myself and with my head shrinker when I attended my next appointment. Today was that day. Now I feel like I am at the crossroad of Hell and Misery.
A lot came out of my session today. First is a painful, terrible, awful admission...Bulldogge is mildly manipulative and pressures me. I do not think that its intentionally hurtful. It has been an ongoing issue between us and it scares me. I feel like I am being slowly and sweetly lured into a corner. Its maddening to hear how hurt Bulldogge's son will be if we break up. Or how his parents are excited for him finally being in true love. I will grant you that when written out it doesn't sound the same as it feels. I am electing to not tell specific stories as examples because I do NOT want to hurt the Bulldogge. He matters to me.
What he fails to realize, I think anyway, is that when my leash is a little longer I will be the best partner one could hope for. I am scared so easily. And I am most certainly not ready to be bulldogged into a life I'm not sure I want. In this minute I so desire total acceptance of all of the parts of me.
With that said...I'm back to wanting to jump on the travel nurse bandwagon. Just a short stint. I want to give it a shot. Not to run away from my own issues, but more so to embrace my problems and learn to just be ME...whoever I am anymore. I may come back more confused than when I left. But I need to get myself together.
Today I talked to that same person and now they asked me to be honest with myself about what I really want, minus the bullshit and pressure. And without thinking about what looks good or what other people and society think I should be doing. That's tough to think about. I would love to throw out the BS "I don't know" answer. That answer is not true.
I want to love myself. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I SO want to live my life without a single regret from here on out. I look forward to remembering how to take care of myself. I think I deserve a little time to be selfish. I want to find my swagger and stop feeling sorry for myself. I want to see more, be more, and do more. I want to realize that I am worth fighting for. And that what I want matters.
Sometimes I doubt that I will ever be content with my life. I worry that I will be out here on the wind forever. Maybe I just need to realize that the universe made me this way for a reason....
About a week ago I was with someone that loves me a great deal and they asked-or well rather TOLD-me to be 100% genuine with myself and with my head shrinker when I attended my next appointment. Today was that day. Now I feel like I am at the crossroad of Hell and Misery.
A lot came out of my session today. First is a painful, terrible, awful admission...Bulldogge is mildly manipulative and pressures me. I do not think that its intentionally hurtful. It has been an ongoing issue between us and it scares me. I feel like I am being slowly and sweetly lured into a corner. Its maddening to hear how hurt Bulldogge's son will be if we break up. Or how his parents are excited for him finally being in true love. I will grant you that when written out it doesn't sound the same as it feels. I am electing to not tell specific stories as examples because I do NOT want to hurt the Bulldogge. He matters to me.
What he fails to realize, I think anyway, is that when my leash is a little longer I will be the best partner one could hope for. I am scared so easily. And I am most certainly not ready to be bulldogged into a life I'm not sure I want. In this minute I so desire total acceptance of all of the parts of me.
With that said...I'm back to wanting to jump on the travel nurse bandwagon. Just a short stint. I want to give it a shot. Not to run away from my own issues, but more so to embrace my problems and learn to just be ME...whoever I am anymore. I may come back more confused than when I left. But I need to get myself together.
Today I talked to that same person and now they asked me to be honest with myself about what I really want, minus the bullshit and pressure. And without thinking about what looks good or what other people and society think I should be doing. That's tough to think about. I would love to throw out the BS "I don't know" answer. That answer is not true.
I want to love myself. I want to be comfortable in my own skin. I SO want to live my life without a single regret from here on out. I look forward to remembering how to take care of myself. I think I deserve a little time to be selfish. I want to find my swagger and stop feeling sorry for myself. I want to see more, be more, and do more. I want to realize that I am worth fighting for. And that what I want matters.
Sometimes I doubt that I will ever be content with my life. I worry that I will be out here on the wind forever. Maybe I just need to realize that the universe made me this way for a reason....
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