Another depressing day in the life of BreakUpLand.
I do fine most of the day. Maybe I'm not fine. I seem utterly unable to finish what I have to do, although I'm not sure why- where does the time go? I have no idea. I feel like I'm fine, but I try to think of yesterday or last week, and it's some hazy foggy blurry thing that I can't recall.
I'm getting more depressed because I am depressed. Meaning, I'm not working at my usual gung ho level. I'm like half of me. Half of me is too busy trying to digest whats happening, half of me is occupied trying to make sense of it all, half of me is busy grieving and screaming at the sky and running in circles and (yes, I was referring to the same half in all those instances) the other half would like find me a house, get work done, and generally get on with life.
Today I didn't finish what I needed to and wanted to just die when I got home.
So I took my Xanax like a good little patient (didn't take it all day, the shits addictive, gotta be careful with it!) about 10 minutes ago.
I have an appointment (actually 2) with a shrink (actually 2) next week.
I am actively looking for a house. I just can't get one without all the money involved with deposits, etc.
I filed my taxes, so they'll be here soon and I can move.
I am doing the things I need to, mostly. Maybe I should give myself credit for even getting up in the morning.
I know life will be better. I know this isn't the end of life. I know I will be happy again, soon.
I'm just not right now.
I really am miserable.
Not that we broke up. No, I'm miserable because I was so jaded when I met him. I no longer believed in love, not real love, not true love. Then we got together and I was restored, renewed, revitalized in my feelings towards love.
Now?
Now the person who made me believe in it has shattered my belief.
I'm not sure yet what I think about it.
I'm not sure I WANT to think about it.
I'm afraid of what I may discover.
Oh, worrisome me, someday I will recover.
Some magical day....
Just not right now.
Friday, January 30, 2004
Thursday, January 29, 2004
Your little blog has been put on Xanax by the doctor. Also sleeping pills. You little blog hasn't been eating or sleeping in weeks, and has lost 20 pounds and generally is falling apart.
Your little blog has this to say about Xanax:
I can see why the docs aren't too slaphappy about prescibing them. I want to take more and more, because suddenly an unbearable situation is just no big deal. Oh, it is....I can still hear the voice of panic in the back of my head but it sounds more like a chipmunk than Darth Vadar.
And there is plenty to panic about.
I haven't been able to afford this apartment, much less one on my own. I will have to do some serious budgeting, which is difficult when you're sleep deprived and freaking out. Hell, everything has been difficult lately.
I can't wait to take the sleeping pill and fall in a nice deep worryless sleep.
It sounds heavenly.
I don't give a damn if it IS drug induced.
At least it's not elusive anymore.
Your little blog has this to say about Xanax:
I can see why the docs aren't too slaphappy about prescibing them. I want to take more and more, because suddenly an unbearable situation is just no big deal. Oh, it is....I can still hear the voice of panic in the back of my head but it sounds more like a chipmunk than Darth Vadar.
And there is plenty to panic about.
I haven't been able to afford this apartment, much less one on my own. I will have to do some serious budgeting, which is difficult when you're sleep deprived and freaking out. Hell, everything has been difficult lately.
I can't wait to take the sleeping pill and fall in a nice deep worryless sleep.
It sounds heavenly.
I don't give a damn if it IS drug induced.
At least it's not elusive anymore.
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
I'm turning into someone I never thought I would be. It's disconcerting, it's alarming, it's frightening, and it's exciting.
The Boyfriend and I are dissolving. He says he loves me and he doesn't want to break up. I believe him , BUT......
He's being horrible, and I can't live like this.
I never thought I would be a single mom again. I never wanted to be. But now that it's coming I'm actually....excited? To be single? To be free of this depressed maniac whose version of love feels like punishment?
I wouldn't have believed it. Yet, it's true.
I thought earlier today that I wanted to start dating again. Me? What? Am I over it that quickly? No. I am egotistically devastated that someone would treat me this way. I know it's an ego thing. I want my ego fed. I'm not saying it's mature, I'm aware it is not. I don't care.
I know, all you singles are really glad some fucked up freak like me is joining the dating pool, right? Sorry. It wasn't my choice to be single. But here I am. May as well try to enjoy it a little.
The Boyfriend and I are dissolving. He says he loves me and he doesn't want to break up. I believe him , BUT......
He's being horrible, and I can't live like this.
I never thought I would be a single mom again. I never wanted to be. But now that it's coming I'm actually....excited? To be single? To be free of this depressed maniac whose version of love feels like punishment?
I wouldn't have believed it. Yet, it's true.
I thought earlier today that I wanted to start dating again. Me? What? Am I over it that quickly? No. I am egotistically devastated that someone would treat me this way. I know it's an ego thing. I want my ego fed. I'm not saying it's mature, I'm aware it is not. I don't care.
I know, all you singles are really glad some fucked up freak like me is joining the dating pool, right? Sorry. It wasn't my choice to be single. But here I am. May as well try to enjoy it a little.
Tuesday, January 27, 2004
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Thursday, January 22, 2004
"And when you feel life ain't worth living, you got to stand up, take a look around, you gotta look up way to the sky......and when your deepest thoughts are broken, you got to keep on dreamin boy cause when you stop dreaming it's time to die."
"When life is hard you have to change......"-Blind Melon
"When life is hard you have to change......"-Blind Melon
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Sunday, January 18, 2004
Thursday, January 15, 2004
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
I saw this Hummer while driving today. Although I'm sure the owner was wondering why the person behind them was taking pictures, they probably just thought I loved their stupid vehicle so much I couldn't resist.
No, no.
I had to make fun of them.
Unfortunately, the picture came out blurry and you can't see the glorious details.
You CAN see that it's a Hummer! A vehicle invented for the military, now made popular by terrified rich men with small penises everywhere! You can use it in harsh terrain! Or you can paint ELECTRIC YELLOW and drive it around town. It gets better! It also has a Florida license plate- you know how much rough terrain there is down there. I suppose you could drive it through a shallow marsh, but my guess is they frequently drive over alligators, and needed something heftier to really get a good satisfying crunch as they mowed them down. It seems to me that they could run the risk of ruining their electric yellow paintjob with such dirty little tasks, however.
Oh, don't worry, people! I know you may be concerned that this poor scaredy rich man with a teeny weenie may get lost out in the big bad wilderness while he's driving through marshes crushing the wildlife. Worry no more. The back bumper proudly touts an On Star system, so the gator mashing maniacs can find their way home with the simple push of a button.
Ah, the good life.
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Monday, January 12, 2004
I am feeling hopeful.
After much talk with the Boyfriend (who is once again capitalized) I believe we have come to an understanding. About calling. About friends of the opposite sex. About clarity.
The Boyfriend told me he was hanging out with the girl again, and didn't call me Saturday night because he knew I would be mad.
I explained to him that being mad is my CHOICE.
I told him I support his decision to make his own friends, to hang out with them.
If he acts suspiciously, he should only expect me to be suspicious.
I told him not calling was a thousand times worse than calling.
Sure, I'll be annoyed all to hell. That's my feeling. It doesn't mean I'm prohibiting him. It means I'm lonely, and afraid. It's my self esteem, thank you very much, now let me deal with it.
Calling me way after the fact and telling me then is NOT the same. It's not even in the same hemisphere.
It's sneaky and underhanded, rude, uncaring and downright cruel.
I think he gets it.
We'll see, huh?
After much talk with the Boyfriend (who is once again capitalized) I believe we have come to an understanding. About calling. About friends of the opposite sex. About clarity.
The Boyfriend told me he was hanging out with the girl again, and didn't call me Saturday night because he knew I would be mad.
I explained to him that being mad is my CHOICE.
I told him I support his decision to make his own friends, to hang out with them.
If he acts suspiciously, he should only expect me to be suspicious.
I told him not calling was a thousand times worse than calling.
Sure, I'll be annoyed all to hell. That's my feeling. It doesn't mean I'm prohibiting him. It means I'm lonely, and afraid. It's my self esteem, thank you very much, now let me deal with it.
Calling me way after the fact and telling me then is NOT the same. It's not even in the same hemisphere.
It's sneaky and underhanded, rude, uncaring and downright cruel.
I think he gets it.
We'll see, huh?
Dear dear blog, how you listen.
It's amazing, oh blog of mine, how much whining you put up with.
I love, admire, and appreciate this about you.
You see, I am vain. Proud. It is nearly impossible for me to cry on the shoulders of others. Although I don't mind being put in that position, it is excrutiating for me to ask the same of others.
I find it humiliating.
I find that odd, because when people ask for my help, I certainly don't pity them. So why would I feel it's humiliating to be in the same position? As of yet, I don't know. Food for thought.
It's amazing, oh blog of mine, how much whining you put up with.
I love, admire, and appreciate this about you.
You see, I am vain. Proud. It is nearly impossible for me to cry on the shoulders of others. Although I don't mind being put in that position, it is excrutiating for me to ask the same of others.
I find it humiliating.
I find that odd, because when people ask for my help, I certainly don't pity them. So why would I feel it's humiliating to be in the same position? As of yet, I don't know. Food for thought.
Sunday, January 11, 2004
He said he wouldn't hang out with that girl again. He also said he would start calling.
Tonight, he went out with the girl from work, and all her friends, and finally called me at 1:40 am.
I called Erica at 1am and told her I thought I might have a heart attack. I realize it's probably just a major freakin panic attack, but in the midst of one, who can tell? I couldn't cry or even do anything but force myself to breathe because my heart was racing so fast it scared me even worse.
Erica drove out here. She even stopped by his work to see if he was there.
(crying) That's a real friend.
She lives at least 30 minutes away.
I told him on the phone he has 3 options:
1) figure out what the fuck is wrong with himself and fix it NOW.
2) we separate until he's through this little phase, because I cannot take another week, maybe even DAY of this.
3) he decides he's actually trying to push me away and he owns up to it, in which case it's over.
My patience is gone.
It's gone now.
Gone.
Tonight, he went out with the girl from work, and all her friends, and finally called me at 1:40 am.
I called Erica at 1am and told her I thought I might have a heart attack. I realize it's probably just a major freakin panic attack, but in the midst of one, who can tell? I couldn't cry or even do anything but force myself to breathe because my heart was racing so fast it scared me even worse.
Erica drove out here. She even stopped by his work to see if he was there.
(crying) That's a real friend.
She lives at least 30 minutes away.
I told him on the phone he has 3 options:
1) figure out what the fuck is wrong with himself and fix it NOW.
2) we separate until he's through this little phase, because I cannot take another week, maybe even DAY of this.
3) he decides he's actually trying to push me away and he owns up to it, in which case it's over.
My patience is gone.
It's gone now.
Gone.
Saturday, January 10, 2004
I went to go work out today. After doing all the weights and then getting on the bike, I couldn't drop my feeling of dread and anxiety. But after 15 minutes on the bike, I started feeling a bit relieved. I realized it must be the endorphins kicking in. Although I must confess I was a bit nervous the first few minutes because I wasn't exerting much but my head was pounding.
I weighed myself a few minutes before that and realized I've lost around 10 pounds in the last two weeks. (I don't weigh myself that often.) I've been so stressed out I have only nibbled in days. Lack of sleep and lack of food are a great diet tool, but not how I want to lose weight. Not at the expense of my nervous system.
Well, while enjoying the endorphins it occurs to me that I may need to go back on medication. That and the way I felt this morning when my boyfriend left. I felt desperate, panicky, clingy, afraid.
Now, one can say that that would be due to the fact that his behavior is causing it. One could reasonably deduce such a thing.
One can also examine the possibility that my anxiety attacks are coming back (I had them so bad years ago I went on medication. I had become totally agoraphobic by the time I saw a doctor about it.).
One can also contemplate the fact that it may be a combination of both, and one is simply setting the other off, in an endless vicious cycle.
But back to my anxiety. It's definitely palatable lately. I don't want to take drugs to make it all ok, either. But there is a fine line between being ok to work it out in your own head and THINKING you are ok enough to work it out in your own head.
Right now I don't feel as bad as the last time I went on Paxil.
But it's a totally different situation and maybe that's why I'm not recognizing it.
I'm not sure.
I feel like I'm trying really hard to work it out on my own. I've called a shrink. They can't see me till March. I actually cried when they told me that. I realized that I was so depending on a shrink fixing my lunatic ass that now I'm just beside myself.
That was when I realized I need help. Like I'm in a hole and trying to get out but just can't. It's not a terribly deep hole, which is maybe why I've underestimated it so far.
But I'm down here and it's slowly dawning on me that I'm sinking.
I weighed myself a few minutes before that and realized I've lost around 10 pounds in the last two weeks. (I don't weigh myself that often.) I've been so stressed out I have only nibbled in days. Lack of sleep and lack of food are a great diet tool, but not how I want to lose weight. Not at the expense of my nervous system.
Well, while enjoying the endorphins it occurs to me that I may need to go back on medication. That and the way I felt this morning when my boyfriend left. I felt desperate, panicky, clingy, afraid.
Now, one can say that that would be due to the fact that his behavior is causing it. One could reasonably deduce such a thing.
One can also examine the possibility that my anxiety attacks are coming back (I had them so bad years ago I went on medication. I had become totally agoraphobic by the time I saw a doctor about it.).
One can also contemplate the fact that it may be a combination of both, and one is simply setting the other off, in an endless vicious cycle.
But back to my anxiety. It's definitely palatable lately. I don't want to take drugs to make it all ok, either. But there is a fine line between being ok to work it out in your own head and THINKING you are ok enough to work it out in your own head.
Right now I don't feel as bad as the last time I went on Paxil.
But it's a totally different situation and maybe that's why I'm not recognizing it.
I'm not sure.
I feel like I'm trying really hard to work it out on my own. I've called a shrink. They can't see me till March. I actually cried when they told me that. I realized that I was so depending on a shrink fixing my lunatic ass that now I'm just beside myself.
That was when I realized I need help. Like I'm in a hole and trying to get out but just can't. It's not a terribly deep hole, which is maybe why I've underestimated it so far.
But I'm down here and it's slowly dawning on me that I'm sinking.
Friday, January 09, 2004
8 hours of sleep this week, 1 1/2 last night. I don't DO sleep deprivation.
Dear God Almighty!
I'm rereading the blogs of the last week and what a pile of drama. Trauma.
No wonder I'm at the breaking point.
I even got sick of reading them, and it's my life.
I couldn't go to sleep last night. I was so sick to my stomach about it all I didn't manage to get to sleep till 5:30 this morning. Brilliant.
I finally reached a stage where it just didn't hurt as much. I was so angry, I just am tired of caring. Blah blah, I don't even want to blog about it.
I'm fucking sick of it all.
I'm rereading the blogs of the last week and what a pile of drama. Trauma.
No wonder I'm at the breaking point.
I even got sick of reading them, and it's my life.
I couldn't go to sleep last night. I was so sick to my stomach about it all I didn't manage to get to sleep till 5:30 this morning. Brilliant.
I finally reached a stage where it just didn't hurt as much. I was so angry, I just am tired of caring. Blah blah, I don't even want to blog about it.
I'm fucking sick of it all.
I have dated quite a few guys who were turning 30 over the course of my dating career, as it were.
Every one of them seems to have gone through their Saturn Return, and not gracefully.
I'm guessing that is what is going on with my boyfriend, too.
The whole Peter Pan wanna return to Never Land and Never grow up thing?
Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyah.
Everyone I talk to keeps telling me I have the patience of a saint.
Mother Teresa I am not.
But convinced I am that he's the man I'm supposed to be with. The question now is if he's bearable.
That's pretty much where I left it last night- I want to be with him, but he needs to get his head out of his ass before my patience dissolves completely.
I also told him that his world should revolve around me. (Smiling, in that way that Leos do when they know they're being egomaniacs.) I told him if I'm not the apple of his eye, the star in his sky, the twinkle in his eye, then he is NOT PAYING ATTENTION.
When we met he was looking for true love, I told him. Well, then he found it. And he appreciated it. Then he started taking it for granted. Now he's spending all his time at the bar, drinking his misery away into a numbed state of acceptance while doing absolutely nothing to ever make it better.
What kind of dumbass plan is that?
How can a smart guy do something so fucking dumb???
Not that it's unusual. Tons of people do it, every day. I've tried to explain this to him before.
I don't hang out in bars (but once in a while) because the people who regularly hang out in bars all have one thing in common:
Denial of life.
They all want to have better lives, or at the very least, feel less pain about the sorry condition of their lives. And they all sit and bitch and whine about how their lives aren't what they want it to be....and what do they do?
NOTHING!!!
They show up every night at the bar and drink together and talk about all the things they COULD do and maybe even SHOULD do, but do they accomplish one damn thing?
Nope.
Alcoholics of the world:
does this seem like a good plan?
Does it? Huh? (This blog grabs you by the shoulders and shakes the shit out of you)
DOES IT?????
~eyes rolling~
So anyway, let me get off my soap box and get back to the subject at hand.
My boyfriend.
I had the image today of him standing on the brink of manhood. Oh yah, at 29 he technically is a man. But astrology nailed it with the Saturn Return. Soon he will become the man he was meant to be. Hence the internal struggle.
How long will he fight it? How long can I stand by and put up with being the nearest emotional punching bag for someone struggling to come to grips with their own eventual aging?
I don't know.
Every one of them seems to have gone through their Saturn Return, and not gracefully.
I'm guessing that is what is going on with my boyfriend, too.
The whole Peter Pan wanna return to Never Land and Never grow up thing?
Yyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyah.
Everyone I talk to keeps telling me I have the patience of a saint.
Mother Teresa I am not.
But convinced I am that he's the man I'm supposed to be with. The question now is if he's bearable.
That's pretty much where I left it last night- I want to be with him, but he needs to get his head out of his ass before my patience dissolves completely.
I also told him that his world should revolve around me. (Smiling, in that way that Leos do when they know they're being egomaniacs.) I told him if I'm not the apple of his eye, the star in his sky, the twinkle in his eye, then he is NOT PAYING ATTENTION.
When we met he was looking for true love, I told him. Well, then he found it. And he appreciated it. Then he started taking it for granted. Now he's spending all his time at the bar, drinking his misery away into a numbed state of acceptance while doing absolutely nothing to ever make it better.
What kind of dumbass plan is that?
How can a smart guy do something so fucking dumb???
Not that it's unusual. Tons of people do it, every day. I've tried to explain this to him before.
I don't hang out in bars (but once in a while) because the people who regularly hang out in bars all have one thing in common:
Denial of life.
They all want to have better lives, or at the very least, feel less pain about the sorry condition of their lives. And they all sit and bitch and whine about how their lives aren't what they want it to be....and what do they do?
NOTHING!!!
They show up every night at the bar and drink together and talk about all the things they COULD do and maybe even SHOULD do, but do they accomplish one damn thing?
Nope.
Alcoholics of the world:
does this seem like a good plan?
Does it? Huh? (This blog grabs you by the shoulders and shakes the shit out of you)
DOES IT?????
~eyes rolling~
So anyway, let me get off my soap box and get back to the subject at hand.
My boyfriend.
I had the image today of him standing on the brink of manhood. Oh yah, at 29 he technically is a man. But astrology nailed it with the Saturn Return. Soon he will become the man he was meant to be. Hence the internal struggle.
How long will he fight it? How long can I stand by and put up with being the nearest emotional punching bag for someone struggling to come to grips with their own eventual aging?
I don't know.
Thursday, January 08, 2004
This weird shit I keep blogging about has taken a bizarre turn.
I don't know how to feel about it.
Mostly because I don't know how my boyfriend feels about it.
Ummmmm.....
He comes home last night and tells me he told the girl he's friends with that he doesn't think they should hang out anymore. That it's just too weird. Well, I don't know exactly what he told her. What he told me, however, I find extremely disturbing. He said he realized that he really likes hanging out with her, maybe too much. He said that he doesn't feel sexually attracted to her but that somehow she reminds him of being young, of being alive. He said he just doesn't know what he wants.....it's not that he wants to be with her, it's just that he doesn't know if he wants to be all domestic.
Having a son, I can't really undomesticate myself, you know? So I took that as him saying, "I don't know if I can be with you".
He said he loves me more than anything.....he's just.....unhappy.
If you can hear the sound of a pile of bricks landing in my stomach, you're very astute.
He says it's not HER but that somehow she triggers this feeling. She's more of a catalyst, he says. Her and her friends are much younger than us, and their freedom is exhilarating to be around. Inspiring.
I wanted to vomit. I wanted to forcibly projectile the contents of my stomach. My stomach felt burning hot, the rest of me ice cold.
He isn't going to hang out with her because he likes it too much?
What the fuck does that MEAN????
I told him I felt like he was having an emotional affair.
He said, "Yah, I guess so."
I cried.
He cried for a minute. Guys. You know.
We talked, argued, discussed it for hours. He finally got too tired and got mad because I wouldn't drop it. Well, I couldn't drop it. I don't know what the fuck this means, all I know is that I feel like he just came home and punched me in the gut and told me all the fucking paranoia and fear I've been trying to convince myself is NOT real is, in fact, real.
Except it's not sexual or romantic he says. I stared at him. I said, "This is how affairs START."
He didn't argue with that. I wanted to vomit again. Still.
So I don't know how to feel. I feel lost in a swirling puke inspiring confusion. Should I be happy because he "cut it off with her" (sounds like an affair to me!), should I be happy because he's FINALLY come to the conclusion that I did when all this fucking bullshit started? (it LOOKS weird, I told him, now he's saying that).
What happened is usually they hang out in a group.
Last night he was at the bar reading (see earlier blogs) and she showed up. Just like I said. Just like I was freaking the fuck out over. She showed up alone, and they were alone together.
Which would not be that big a deal. I've hung out alone with my guy friends.
-But I don't see them every day and hang out with them whenever possible.
And my guys friends don't hang out with me all the time without my boyfriend being there. And if he is? Talk to me and totally ignore him. Rude little bitch.-
I've been telling him this. He WORKS with her. They see each other all the time as it is. Then they get off of work and go hang out together, till the wee hours of the morning?
While I sit at home crying, lonely, confused.
What the fuck am I supposed to think?
And my parents and friends are telling me to put my foot down (although Erica says I should just straight up kick her ass), that this isn't cool, that it's NOT ok, while my boyfriend has been arguing with me to trust him, that there's nothing going on, and how insulted he is that I don't trust him.
I want to trust him.
Now this bit of news.
He told me last night he was sorry he even told me. I didn't take that as a good sign at all. Like, you're sorry you were finally honest?
swirly pukey feeling-------
What does it mean?
What does it all mean?
The only way for me to finally calm down and quit bawling last night was to think, "Fuck it, I'll just break up with him. I'm better off without him, I guess. " Since when are relationships this much bullshit?
And then I'm also furious. Furious that he's been so unhappy and hasn't done a goddamn thing about it. And while I've tried to inspire him to act, to move forward and do things that bring him joy, my support has had no effect. Yet some girl walks along and ~bing~ he's inspired! She makes him feel great!
HOW THE FUCK IS THAT FAIR!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
I told him it's time. It's time to see a shrink. That this is shit he's been talking about (the depression) for years and he's obviously no closer to figuring it out. That now he's endangering our relationship and our future together and that's too much. He refused.
He refused.
I told him he had told me just weeks ago that he would go. So now all of a sudden he won't?
~more red flags~
I mean, he's dragged me and my son along on his depressive trail for years. I told him that the whole reason we moved last year was for him. He kept saying if he had more room to work he could be more artistic. That that was what was bothering him. So we packed up everything and moved to a bigger place. It was very traumatic for me, and horrible for my son. He was a wreck for a month or two. But I did it to be supportive, and to help my boyfriend feel better about his life.
What happened? Nothing. Nothing at all. He has much more room and he just filled it with crap like he did at the last place. Not a damn thing changed.
And it's like, I'm getting tired of accommodating his moods. I'm tired of trying to help him, when he doesn't help himself. All he does is cause me misery over it. It's maybe codependent of me to even try.
I don't know.
I just can't help thinking, "If I could just find a way to make him happy, everything would be ok." It's like we've had this oppressive cloud hanging nearby for years, and every once in a while it blots out the sun. Like it's doing now.
Not only that, it's fucking up what could be an amazing love for us both.
I have my own issues that affect our relationship. I'm trying to work them out so our relationship can be better.
It's time he did the same.
I don't know how to feel about it.
Mostly because I don't know how my boyfriend feels about it.
Ummmmm.....
He comes home last night and tells me he told the girl he's friends with that he doesn't think they should hang out anymore. That it's just too weird. Well, I don't know exactly what he told her. What he told me, however, I find extremely disturbing. He said he realized that he really likes hanging out with her, maybe too much. He said that he doesn't feel sexually attracted to her but that somehow she reminds him of being young, of being alive. He said he just doesn't know what he wants.....it's not that he wants to be with her, it's just that he doesn't know if he wants to be all domestic.
Having a son, I can't really undomesticate myself, you know? So I took that as him saying, "I don't know if I can be with you".
He said he loves me more than anything.....he's just.....unhappy.
If you can hear the sound of a pile of bricks landing in my stomach, you're very astute.
He says it's not HER but that somehow she triggers this feeling. She's more of a catalyst, he says. Her and her friends are much younger than us, and their freedom is exhilarating to be around. Inspiring.
I wanted to vomit. I wanted to forcibly projectile the contents of my stomach. My stomach felt burning hot, the rest of me ice cold.
He isn't going to hang out with her because he likes it too much?
What the fuck does that MEAN????
I told him I felt like he was having an emotional affair.
He said, "Yah, I guess so."
I cried.
He cried for a minute. Guys. You know.
We talked, argued, discussed it for hours. He finally got too tired and got mad because I wouldn't drop it. Well, I couldn't drop it. I don't know what the fuck this means, all I know is that I feel like he just came home and punched me in the gut and told me all the fucking paranoia and fear I've been trying to convince myself is NOT real is, in fact, real.
Except it's not sexual or romantic he says. I stared at him. I said, "This is how affairs START."
He didn't argue with that. I wanted to vomit again. Still.
So I don't know how to feel. I feel lost in a swirling puke inspiring confusion. Should I be happy because he "cut it off with her" (sounds like an affair to me!), should I be happy because he's FINALLY come to the conclusion that I did when all this fucking bullshit started? (it LOOKS weird, I told him, now he's saying that).
What happened is usually they hang out in a group.
Last night he was at the bar reading (see earlier blogs) and she showed up. Just like I said. Just like I was freaking the fuck out over. She showed up alone, and they were alone together.
Which would not be that big a deal. I've hung out alone with my guy friends.
-But I don't see them every day and hang out with them whenever possible.
And my guys friends don't hang out with me all the time without my boyfriend being there. And if he is? Talk to me and totally ignore him. Rude little bitch.-
I've been telling him this. He WORKS with her. They see each other all the time as it is. Then they get off of work and go hang out together, till the wee hours of the morning?
While I sit at home crying, lonely, confused.
What the fuck am I supposed to think?
And my parents and friends are telling me to put my foot down (although Erica says I should just straight up kick her ass), that this isn't cool, that it's NOT ok, while my boyfriend has been arguing with me to trust him, that there's nothing going on, and how insulted he is that I don't trust him.
I want to trust him.
Now this bit of news.
He told me last night he was sorry he even told me. I didn't take that as a good sign at all. Like, you're sorry you were finally honest?
swirly pukey feeling-------
What does it mean?
What does it all mean?
The only way for me to finally calm down and quit bawling last night was to think, "Fuck it, I'll just break up with him. I'm better off without him, I guess. " Since when are relationships this much bullshit?
And then I'm also furious. Furious that he's been so unhappy and hasn't done a goddamn thing about it. And while I've tried to inspire him to act, to move forward and do things that bring him joy, my support has had no effect. Yet some girl walks along and ~bing~ he's inspired! She makes him feel great!
HOW THE FUCK IS THAT FAIR!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
I told him it's time. It's time to see a shrink. That this is shit he's been talking about (the depression) for years and he's obviously no closer to figuring it out. That now he's endangering our relationship and our future together and that's too much. He refused.
He refused.
I told him he had told me just weeks ago that he would go. So now all of a sudden he won't?
~more red flags~
I mean, he's dragged me and my son along on his depressive trail for years. I told him that the whole reason we moved last year was for him. He kept saying if he had more room to work he could be more artistic. That that was what was bothering him. So we packed up everything and moved to a bigger place. It was very traumatic for me, and horrible for my son. He was a wreck for a month or two. But I did it to be supportive, and to help my boyfriend feel better about his life.
What happened? Nothing. Nothing at all. He has much more room and he just filled it with crap like he did at the last place. Not a damn thing changed.
And it's like, I'm getting tired of accommodating his moods. I'm tired of trying to help him, when he doesn't help himself. All he does is cause me misery over it. It's maybe codependent of me to even try.
I don't know.
I just can't help thinking, "If I could just find a way to make him happy, everything would be ok." It's like we've had this oppressive cloud hanging nearby for years, and every once in a while it blots out the sun. Like it's doing now.
Not only that, it's fucking up what could be an amazing love for us both.
I have my own issues that affect our relationship. I'm trying to work them out so our relationship can be better.
It's time he did the same.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Oh, I know you'll likely think it's just stupid. But I don't care.
The other night I stopped outside Ingles and saw that Whole Boston Butt was on sale. I couldn't resist. I took the picture and came home and my son and I took the picture into Paintshop and came up with this:
And it was great irresponsible parent fun. We laughed our heads off.
I needed that.
Maybe he did, too.
The other night I stopped outside Ingles and saw that Whole Boston Butt was on sale. I couldn't resist. I took the picture and came home and my son and I took the picture into Paintshop and came up with this:
And it was great irresponsible parent fun. We laughed our heads off.
I needed that.
Maybe he did, too.
Sitting here waiting for the phone to ring.
It's like a regular fucking ritual over here.
I'm starting to think that I don't care. It's just bullshit. That's what it is.
No matter if I'm paranoid or not. It's just bullshit that he wants to go out all the time. Like every day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So I write that, then call him. He says he's coming home after all.
I feel like I'm on a see saw. Roller coaster? I don't know. But I'm dizzy and nauseous and want to get off.
It's like a regular fucking ritual over here.
I'm starting to think that I don't care. It's just bullshit. That's what it is.
No matter if I'm paranoid or not. It's just bullshit that he wants to go out all the time. Like every day.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So I write that, then call him. He says he's coming home after all.
I feel like I'm on a see saw. Roller coaster? I don't know. But I'm dizzy and nauseous and want to get off.
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
A flash of insight while brushing my teeth:
I was standing there thinking: he should come home! It's cold! It's like 14 degrees! With a wind chill of -5! Why isn't he home? I'm so worried about him!
Then I suddenly realized that it's just another distraction. All the times I've worried and fretted (well, there have been a few genuine moments I'm sure) have been just another way for me to disguise my own fear and rage.
Like , rage=bad. Worry= Ok.
What am I worried about? That he's going to freeze to death in 5 miles? I mean, the possibility of frost bite is very real, but.....
Serious injury? Death? What the hell is going on in my head?
Seriously! No wonder he looks at me like I'm insane when I say things like that to him.
I don't know how many times I have had myself convinced he was dead or in an accident or maybe in jail or left me for another woman.....
How many of those times were honest worry, I wonder? Or just a cover for my own paranoia?
A distraction, as it were, for my anger and pain?
I'll bet you most of them. Most of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Can you see it, people? I'm getting there. I'm cracking this nut.
This nut that is me.
I was standing there thinking: he should come home! It's cold! It's like 14 degrees! With a wind chill of -5! Why isn't he home? I'm so worried about him!
Then I suddenly realized that it's just another distraction. All the times I've worried and fretted (well, there have been a few genuine moments I'm sure) have been just another way for me to disguise my own fear and rage.
Like , rage=bad. Worry= Ok.
What am I worried about? That he's going to freeze to death in 5 miles? I mean, the possibility of frost bite is very real, but.....
Serious injury? Death? What the hell is going on in my head?
Seriously! No wonder he looks at me like I'm insane when I say things like that to him.
I don't know how many times I have had myself convinced he was dead or in an accident or maybe in jail or left me for another woman.....
How many of those times were honest worry, I wonder? Or just a cover for my own paranoia?
A distraction, as it were, for my anger and pain?
I'll bet you most of them. Most of them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Can you see it, people? I'm getting there. I'm cracking this nut.
This nut that is me.
Put yer boots on, it's gettin deep
I've been really getting deep into this trauma reactionary thing I've got going in my head. I want to cure myself of it.
I've explained to my boyfriend that if he wants me to quit acting like a lunatic he needs to support my decision to get better and quit antagonizing my reactionary ways. What? Oh, I want him to quit staying out and not calling me, thus freaking me the hell out and not helping me be less paranoid.
I don't want to run his life, by any means. I just have come to a place where it is time for me to deal with some major issues, whether I want to or not. So here it is. And while in the process of doing it, I am more exposed and fragile than I can remember feeling, and I don't care for that, not at all.
But there it is.
So tonight he's at his favorite pub, who tonight has a special on his favorite beer. He called me to tell me he's reading a book and enjoying himself, and I said, "Well, ok then."
3 1/2 hours later, he's still there.
I HATE IT!
I HATE IT, I HATE IT, I HATE IT, I HATE IT!!!!
There, I've said it.
Why do I find this so terrifying? Why do I feel so exposed? Why do I feel so threatened? Why am I so afraid?
I used to sit at the bar and read for the whole freaking night, too.
In a moment of clarity (when my fear shuts the hell up for a second) I realized how cute that is. How I should find this as a sign that I have indeed found my mate, how freakin alike we are. What a couple of dorks.
Then the fear clouded back over my mind and I thought, Yah nice story! How innocent! I'm sure! Reading! You fucking liar!
You lying son of a bitch you're probably sitting there with some girl right now you fucking lying bastard!
~deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep breath~
Whadya think? Some repressed anger?
Whoooooooo!
I mean, at least the voice in my head has gotten to the point where I can hear it and recognize it as a voice, not necessarily the truth.
(The Voice responds: Shut up, you dumb bitch. How stupid are you gonna feel when you find out he's been fucking someone else all along? Here you've publicly humiliated yourself by defending him! You're busy working on yourself while he's working on some girl! GOD YOU ARE SO FUCKING STUPID!!!!")
>insert image of me with eyebrow cocked and a half grin<
I mean, am I angry as hell or what?
Holy shit! No wonder I'm stressed the fuck out all the time! I'm discovering the thing I'm stressing out over is suppressing what is apparently a very evil and angry me.
One very nontrusting, paranoid, furious, rage-filled, damaged, hole-riddled me.
It ocurs to me that this may be why I want him to come home so freakin badly. If he's here, the Voice is quiet. If he's here, I don't really have to think about it. If he's home, I don't have to face this part of me that is so excruciatingly damaged it's just blindly lashing out, refusing to believe it may be ok, because it...well....on some level I don't ever believe it will be ok.
Ever.
(teary eyed)
It's as if some vital intregal part of my being has been pushed too far, off the precipice, bye-bye.
Now I'm operating with the only part remaining.
Well, I simply can't spare anymore.
I don't have anything left to lose, not without it destroying me completely.
It occurs to me: that would explain the sense of panic, of urgency.
~~~~~~~~~~deep in thought~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't believe in random occurences, really. I believe everything happens for a reason, whether we believe it or not. And it could be this is the relationship where I heal.
But first there's this whole walk through fire thing that's rather inconveniant.
Can we just skip this part? No? Oh. (dejected) Damn.
I guess I'll go lie in bed and wait for him to come home, and try to not freak out and instead think about why I am so angry. I mean, I know why. It looks like I'm going to have to talk some sense into the Voice.
(teary eyed again)
Damn it, I just don't want to do it alone.
I want him to come home and make me feel better.
But that's the point, huh?
Shit.
I've explained to my boyfriend that if he wants me to quit acting like a lunatic he needs to support my decision to get better and quit antagonizing my reactionary ways. What? Oh, I want him to quit staying out and not calling me, thus freaking me the hell out and not helping me be less paranoid.
I don't want to run his life, by any means. I just have come to a place where it is time for me to deal with some major issues, whether I want to or not. So here it is. And while in the process of doing it, I am more exposed and fragile than I can remember feeling, and I don't care for that, not at all.
But there it is.
So tonight he's at his favorite pub, who tonight has a special on his favorite beer. He called me to tell me he's reading a book and enjoying himself, and I said, "Well, ok then."
3 1/2 hours later, he's still there.
I HATE IT!
I HATE IT, I HATE IT, I HATE IT, I HATE IT!!!!
There, I've said it.
Why do I find this so terrifying? Why do I feel so exposed? Why do I feel so threatened? Why am I so afraid?
I used to sit at the bar and read for the whole freaking night, too.
In a moment of clarity (when my fear shuts the hell up for a second) I realized how cute that is. How I should find this as a sign that I have indeed found my mate, how freakin alike we are. What a couple of dorks.
Then the fear clouded back over my mind and I thought, Yah nice story! How innocent! I'm sure! Reading! You fucking liar!
You lying son of a bitch you're probably sitting there with some girl right now you fucking lying bastard!
~deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep breath~
Whadya think? Some repressed anger?
Whoooooooo!
I mean, at least the voice in my head has gotten to the point where I can hear it and recognize it as a voice, not necessarily the truth.
(The Voice responds: Shut up, you dumb bitch. How stupid are you gonna feel when you find out he's been fucking someone else all along? Here you've publicly humiliated yourself by defending him! You're busy working on yourself while he's working on some girl! GOD YOU ARE SO FUCKING STUPID!!!!")
>insert image of me with eyebrow cocked and a half grin<
I mean, am I angry as hell or what?
Holy shit! No wonder I'm stressed the fuck out all the time! I'm discovering the thing I'm stressing out over is suppressing what is apparently a very evil and angry me.
One very nontrusting, paranoid, furious, rage-filled, damaged, hole-riddled me.
It ocurs to me that this may be why I want him to come home so freakin badly. If he's here, the Voice is quiet. If he's here, I don't really have to think about it. If he's home, I don't have to face this part of me that is so excruciatingly damaged it's just blindly lashing out, refusing to believe it may be ok, because it...well....on some level I don't ever believe it will be ok.
Ever.
(teary eyed)
It's as if some vital intregal part of my being has been pushed too far, off the precipice, bye-bye.
Now I'm operating with the only part remaining.
Well, I simply can't spare anymore.
I don't have anything left to lose, not without it destroying me completely.
It occurs to me: that would explain the sense of panic, of urgency.
~~~~~~~~~~deep in thought~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't believe in random occurences, really. I believe everything happens for a reason, whether we believe it or not. And it could be this is the relationship where I heal.
But first there's this whole walk through fire thing that's rather inconveniant.
Can we just skip this part? No? Oh. (dejected) Damn.
I guess I'll go lie in bed and wait for him to come home, and try to not freak out and instead think about why I am so angry. I mean, I know why. It looks like I'm going to have to talk some sense into the Voice.
(teary eyed again)
Damn it, I just don't want to do it alone.
I want him to come home and make me feel better.
But that's the point, huh?
Shit.
I was in the retirement home today and overheard music time with some of the more ambulatory residents. They were singing a bunch of songs that I learned in elementary school choir, you know? "This Land Is Your Land", "Take Me Out To The Ball Game", "Grand Ole Flag", etc. And it was weird, for a moment, to realize they make you sing those songs as a kid and then make you sing them again when you get old. But a few of the voices were joyfully singing, and then I realized..." it's making them happy! Oh, I get it! It's reminiscing!"
And then I suddenly and absolutely appreciated my youth.
And then I suddenly and absolutely appreciated my youth.
Monday, January 05, 2004
Sunday, January 04, 2004
Reality Bites
Well.
Here I am, sleep deprived and miserable yet again. The boyfriend managed to sleep in till noon, so of course he feels just fucking dandy. Meanwhile, I managed to not come into the bedroom and kick him while he slept.
Ok, so here's where my head is at now:
I am in love with someone who is totally self centered. My boyfriend (you'll notice the lower case today, mmmm?) seems to be under the delusion that a person can act however they want in a relationship and if the other person doesn't like it, well, tough shit for them.
He always gets so annoyed that I am friends with most of my ex's. I think I'm realizing why he is not friends with his. If he treated them like such total crap I am not surprised they don't ever want to talk to him again.
Today, I don't really want to either.
My heart is heavy. Every time I think things are getting better between us he does this shit again. The good times last just long enough for me to believe it was just a phase and things really are good- then he crushes my dream of a happy relationship again.
I'm mad at myself for believing it. I'm mad at myself for repeatedly getting suckered into thinking it's ok.
I wonder if this is some kind of testing thing for him, well, who cares. I doubt he'll figure out anything that deep without help. He doesn't seem to put a whole hell of a lot of thought into it all anyway.
Now the question facing me is this: Is it even fixable?
Do I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who cannot be bothered to waste 20 whole seconds of his life by calling me?
It makes me feel like crap.
Like, I must be so low on his list of priorities that he cannot be bothered to even call. That 20 seconds of his life would be better spent doing just about anything else, it seems.
I don't think any of this occurs to him at all.
Where the hell did he learn love?
What kind of fucked up role models did he have, that he thinks this is acceptable?
His own friends have told him to quit being such a dumbass.
He doesn't listen.
I beg him to call, cry, whimper, and demand.
I may as well shoot myself in the foot for all the good it does me.
And this morning at 7:00am, sitting here telling him how I support him through all his little stages, yet I feel so totally unsupported- he interrupts me to tell me he's tired.
Oh, gee sorry.
I managed to not smack him across his fucknut face, and walked out of the room.
And I sat in the kitchen and thought about work, and how I have so much shit to do this week, and I still haven't' done the hours for payroll, and the house is still a wreck because I usually clean on the weekend but this weekend has been shot all to shit by me being sick and instead of me getting any rest I"m staying up all fucking night because the goddamn asshole I'm stupidly in love with can't be fucking bothered to spend 20 goddamn seconds of his life to call his girlfriend and say he's ok.
I can't live like this.
At all.
So now I have to decide if this is salvageable.
Or not.
What infuriates me more than anything is that he is totally unconcerned. He's just playing PSII. Doesn't see a problem. Everything is fucking dandy.
Here I am, sleep deprived and miserable yet again. The boyfriend managed to sleep in till noon, so of course he feels just fucking dandy. Meanwhile, I managed to not come into the bedroom and kick him while he slept.
Ok, so here's where my head is at now:
I am in love with someone who is totally self centered. My boyfriend (you'll notice the lower case today, mmmm?) seems to be under the delusion that a person can act however they want in a relationship and if the other person doesn't like it, well, tough shit for them.
He always gets so annoyed that I am friends with most of my ex's. I think I'm realizing why he is not friends with his. If he treated them like such total crap I am not surprised they don't ever want to talk to him again.
Today, I don't really want to either.
My heart is heavy. Every time I think things are getting better between us he does this shit again. The good times last just long enough for me to believe it was just a phase and things really are good- then he crushes my dream of a happy relationship again.
I'm mad at myself for believing it. I'm mad at myself for repeatedly getting suckered into thinking it's ok.
I wonder if this is some kind of testing thing for him, well, who cares. I doubt he'll figure out anything that deep without help. He doesn't seem to put a whole hell of a lot of thought into it all anyway.
Now the question facing me is this: Is it even fixable?
Do I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who cannot be bothered to waste 20 whole seconds of his life by calling me?
It makes me feel like crap.
Like, I must be so low on his list of priorities that he cannot be bothered to even call. That 20 seconds of his life would be better spent doing just about anything else, it seems.
I don't think any of this occurs to him at all.
Where the hell did he learn love?
What kind of fucked up role models did he have, that he thinks this is acceptable?
His own friends have told him to quit being such a dumbass.
He doesn't listen.
I beg him to call, cry, whimper, and demand.
I may as well shoot myself in the foot for all the good it does me.
And this morning at 7:00am, sitting here telling him how I support him through all his little stages, yet I feel so totally unsupported- he interrupts me to tell me he's tired.
Oh, gee sorry.
I managed to not smack him across his fucknut face, and walked out of the room.
And I sat in the kitchen and thought about work, and how I have so much shit to do this week, and I still haven't' done the hours for payroll, and the house is still a wreck because I usually clean on the weekend but this weekend has been shot all to shit by me being sick and instead of me getting any rest I"m staying up all fucking night because the goddamn asshole I'm stupidly in love with can't be fucking bothered to spend 20 goddamn seconds of his life to call his girlfriend and say he's ok.
I can't live like this.
At all.
So now I have to decide if this is salvageable.
Or not.
What infuriates me more than anything is that he is totally unconcerned. He's just playing PSII. Doesn't see a problem. Everything is fucking dandy.
6am
I've been calling his work all night. He finally answered.
He drank too much and decided instead of driving home drunk he'd just go inside and sleep it off.
Without calling me.
I told him I was convinced he'd left me.
He said, "That's dumb." ~long pause~ "I'm not saying you're stupid, just that's dumb." Then....."I don't know about stopping to get you that soda."
I told him just to come home.
I'm not in love with a jerk. Apparently I'm in love with an alcoholic.
What do I do?
I guess I'll figure it out in therapy, huh?
I'm just so convinced he's the man I was meant to be with.
Why did God give him to me in such a fucked up state? I mean, I'm a mess, too but not like that.
On another note, since the last blog I've been laying in bed and trying desperately to get my heart to stop racing. I managed to reach a meditative state even in panic mode. I used the techniques I read on the PTSD sites. I pictured myself laying in the arms of God, so I didn't feel so alone. And as I lay there I let the voice of God talk, instead of my own hysterical babble. And it was like arguing with God, which is kind of funny. Like I would start to go off about "He's decided to end it, he's at some girls house, he's not coming back...." and I would hear, "He loves you. He would not do that." And then, "He's asleep." And as I would start to panic again I kept hearing that, "He's asleep." And I would calm back down. Finally I heard, "He's waking up, " and I called his work. He answered. I had called a few times over the last hours. But when he drinks liquor- which he undoubtedly did with his buddy- he passes out cold.
"He's asleep."
Isn't that amazing?
That doesn't help me know what to do next in this wretched drama, but it helped me through the traumatic part itself.
Thanks, God.
I've been calling his work all night. He finally answered.
He drank too much and decided instead of driving home drunk he'd just go inside and sleep it off.
Without calling me.
I told him I was convinced he'd left me.
He said, "That's dumb." ~long pause~ "I'm not saying you're stupid, just that's dumb." Then....."I don't know about stopping to get you that soda."
I told him just to come home.
I'm not in love with a jerk. Apparently I'm in love with an alcoholic.
What do I do?
I guess I'll figure it out in therapy, huh?
I'm just so convinced he's the man I was meant to be with.
Why did God give him to me in such a fucked up state? I mean, I'm a mess, too but not like that.
On another note, since the last blog I've been laying in bed and trying desperately to get my heart to stop racing. I managed to reach a meditative state even in panic mode. I used the techniques I read on the PTSD sites. I pictured myself laying in the arms of God, so I didn't feel so alone. And as I lay there I let the voice of God talk, instead of my own hysterical babble. And it was like arguing with God, which is kind of funny. Like I would start to go off about "He's decided to end it, he's at some girls house, he's not coming back...." and I would hear, "He loves you. He would not do that." And then, "He's asleep." And as I would start to panic again I kept hearing that, "He's asleep." And I would calm back down. Finally I heard, "He's waking up, " and I called his work. He answered. I had called a few times over the last hours. But when he drinks liquor- which he undoubtedly did with his buddy- he passes out cold.
"He's asleep."
Isn't that amazing?
That doesn't help me know what to do next in this wretched drama, but it helped me through the traumatic part itself.
Thanks, God.
As I started to shut all my windows down I realized I had a picture of us pulled up to look at. It's a picture of us from two weeks ago, when we went out with my friend and her mom. He looks so happy, and looks smitten, even. My friend was just telling me the other night how cute he was being that night. How he kept looking at me like he was just so in love and how she and her mom thought it was adorable.
Who the hell am I in love with?
And
where is he now?
Who the hell am I in love with?
And
where is he now?
gone to hell
Well, it seems I am the only one concerned with saving this relationship. It's now 4 am and the Boyfriend still hasn't called. Horribly, I am not surprised. I had the feeling this morning he would not be coming home. When I talked to him earlier, he seemed all too agreeable. I don't know if he's decided to just cut the cord and go ahead and sleep with someone else....or if he's trying to punish me in some fucked up way of his for the argument we had last night.
At any rate, I can feel the bond we have diminishing.
But I seem to be the only one who cares about that.
Again, I am only able to sit here and wait for him. He knows. He knows how it makes me feel. So he really doesn't care. I don't know what it's going to take for me to accept this sad fact. But it feels like waking up from a fairy tale. Like everything I've had was just a lovely dream. I thought he was the man of my dreams.
It seems I was wrong.
All the mental work I did today, all the digging, all the of the trying to find a way to make it work....
I just can't believe it.
I knew this morning he wasn't coming home.
I told him that, in tears. He said no. I didn't believe him then.
I mean....I just talked to him at 9:30. He said he would bring me some soda on the way home (I have a sore throat). He said he loved me. I asked him if he was really going to move out, like he threatened to last night. He said, "No. By now, you should know me better than that." He told me how much he loved me. He sounded so sincere. Could he really have been plotting to torture me by not coming home? Like I blogged earlier, is my intuition that far off? But then how did he sound so sincere? Is he really that cruel to just lie?
Does this mean he's a better liar than I thought?
In which case, maybe he has been cheating on me all along. Maybe that's my reality and I need to deal with it.
I'm shaking so bad. My hands are ice cold.
But so far I'm not crying.
Because I knew.
I knew.
At any rate, I can feel the bond we have diminishing.
But I seem to be the only one who cares about that.
Again, I am only able to sit here and wait for him. He knows. He knows how it makes me feel. So he really doesn't care. I don't know what it's going to take for me to accept this sad fact. But it feels like waking up from a fairy tale. Like everything I've had was just a lovely dream. I thought he was the man of my dreams.
It seems I was wrong.
All the mental work I did today, all the digging, all the of the trying to find a way to make it work....
I just can't believe it.
I knew this morning he wasn't coming home.
I told him that, in tears. He said no. I didn't believe him then.
I mean....I just talked to him at 9:30. He said he would bring me some soda on the way home (I have a sore throat). He said he loved me. I asked him if he was really going to move out, like he threatened to last night. He said, "No. By now, you should know me better than that." He told me how much he loved me. He sounded so sincere. Could he really have been plotting to torture me by not coming home? Like I blogged earlier, is my intuition that far off? But then how did he sound so sincere? Is he really that cruel to just lie?
Does this mean he's a better liar than I thought?
In which case, maybe he has been cheating on me all along. Maybe that's my reality and I need to deal with it.
I'm shaking so bad. My hands are ice cold.
But so far I'm not crying.
Because I knew.
I knew.
Saturday, January 03, 2004
And I've been having all kinds of flashbacks today. Like I opened the flood gates.
Passing smells of clean laundry, the pine trees, bits of dreams from years ago, feelings and thoughts from childhood, passing thoughts about how things would be when I was older (as I am now- but I felt them as if I was still 20). It's all flashing back without any apparent rhyme or reason.
Odd.
Passing smells of clean laundry, the pine trees, bits of dreams from years ago, feelings and thoughts from childhood, passing thoughts about how things would be when I was older (as I am now- but I felt them as if I was still 20). It's all flashing back without any apparent rhyme or reason.
Odd.
Another thing that I realized today:
Back when I was with the Incredible Jerk, I always had a feeling he was cheating on me. Deep down I knew. But when I asked him he denied it and I believed him because I wanted to.
After a while, though, it wore away at my intuition. I couldn't tell if it was wrong or right.
And I found that very deeply disturbing.
Now when I'm Freaking Out, that's a big part of my madness. I feel like maybe it's intuition again? Or paranoia? And if I could calm down at the time I could logically work it out, but I CAN NOT calm down and I run myself in circles. It's frightening. It's confusing.
I don't know what to believe, not even in my own head.
Back when I was with the Incredible Jerk, I always had a feeling he was cheating on me. Deep down I knew. But when I asked him he denied it and I believed him because I wanted to.
After a while, though, it wore away at my intuition. I couldn't tell if it was wrong or right.
And I found that very deeply disturbing.
Now when I'm Freaking Out, that's a big part of my madness. I feel like maybe it's intuition again? Or paranoia? And if I could calm down at the time I could logically work it out, but I CAN NOT calm down and I run myself in circles. It's frightening. It's confusing.
I don't know what to believe, not even in my own head.
Digging inside
Ok, I've been thinking about my Freak Outs all day. I've decided to do some research on Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, since the shrink I saw briefly after all that happened told me it sounded like that's what I had.
I'll be damned.
She couldn't have been more correct.
I'm reading through the list of symptoms, various ways that it manifests, and I have nearly all of them. Other than recurring nightmares- mine are mostly sporadic.
What got me was the exaggerated startle reflex. It's true- when the phone rings, I JUMP. When my Boyfriend walks into the room and I don't hear him coming, I jump. I've been known to emit small shrieks when that happens.
But I remember doing that when I was pregnant.
Which means this may not originate there at all, but further back.
Ok. I was looking through the lists of reason people may have PTSD, and I fit quite a few of them, not just one. Mental abuse, physical abuse (the boyfriend before the mental abuse), and rape (at 13, my first experience with sex, how lovely).
Which leads me to wonder if I'm a bigger mental case than I even thought. This may not be a simple thing (not that trauma ever is) but one trauma compounded on top of another over the years.
~sigh~
It's odd to me, that I can cram all this shit down deep into some pocket inside, and I never really think much about it, when I really take a look I realize it's festering.
Badly.
If anyone ever asked me about any of these things that have happened, I would tell them about it very matter of fact, nonchalant, because I'm over it, right?
But I'm reading these pages on the symptoms and crying my eyes out, realizing, THIS IS ME, they are talking about ME, I do these things, and I never would have tied them together. I never knew that all those odd things about me may be related somehow, just one big ball of mess.
I feel oddly delicate, in a way I don't usually feel.
I also feel like my body is a huge cavern and someone (me) is shining a flashlight down into the darkness.
~Whoooooooooooooooo~ There's a lot of stuff stored down there. No wonder I don't like to look.
I guess it's time.
I'll be damned.
She couldn't have been more correct.
I'm reading through the list of symptoms, various ways that it manifests, and I have nearly all of them. Other than recurring nightmares- mine are mostly sporadic.
What got me was the exaggerated startle reflex. It's true- when the phone rings, I JUMP. When my Boyfriend walks into the room and I don't hear him coming, I jump. I've been known to emit small shrieks when that happens.
But I remember doing that when I was pregnant.
Which means this may not originate there at all, but further back.
Ok. I was looking through the lists of reason people may have PTSD, and I fit quite a few of them, not just one. Mental abuse, physical abuse (the boyfriend before the mental abuse), and rape (at 13, my first experience with sex, how lovely).
Which leads me to wonder if I'm a bigger mental case than I even thought. This may not be a simple thing (not that trauma ever is) but one trauma compounded on top of another over the years.
~sigh~
It's odd to me, that I can cram all this shit down deep into some pocket inside, and I never really think much about it, when I really take a look I realize it's festering.
Badly.
If anyone ever asked me about any of these things that have happened, I would tell them about it very matter of fact, nonchalant, because I'm over it, right?
But I'm reading these pages on the symptoms and crying my eyes out, realizing, THIS IS ME, they are talking about ME, I do these things, and I never would have tied them together. I never knew that all those odd things about me may be related somehow, just one big ball of mess.
I feel oddly delicate, in a way I don't usually feel.
I also feel like my body is a huge cavern and someone (me) is shining a flashlight down into the darkness.
~Whoooooooooooooooo~ There's a lot of stuff stored down there. No wonder I don't like to look.
I guess it's time.
Well, I must say today is the deepest in introspection yours truly has seen in a while.
Where to even start?
The Boyfriend went out last night with the girls. No biggie. I was pouty but ok about it. He said he would be home in an hour, hour and a half.
He didn't come home till 6 hours later, and never bothered to call me to tell me what was up.
At first, I was ok. I tried making up excuses in my head to keep myself calm. He probably ran into some people (which he did) and lost track of time.
Well, since I didn't know, panic and fear eventually got the best of me.
Let's be clear about this: I am damaged goods. I know that. The Boyfriend knows that. But I don't think he gets it, at all.
My ex tormented me in ways I like to not think about. All mental. He was a controlling bastard who very slowly and with great skill managed to pull me away from everything and everyone, leaving me alone and isolated and meek.
For those of you who know me now that sounds pretty funny. But he was the one who taught me how to stand up for myself. It just took me a while to figure it out. Over two years, to be precise.
So for two years (through my pregnancy with my son and the year and a half after it) more or less I sat at home with no car, no phone, and no way to get out of the hell my life had become. He managed to convince me that he was trying to save money for the baby, that's why we didn't need a phone, that's why instead of fixing his car he'll just use mine, leaving me stranded, when in reality he was just out fucking anything with two legs. See, if I don't have a car and don't have a phone I can't very well catch him, now can I?
Well, I finally did and needless to say he's long gone history. But it left me emotionally scarred in a way I don't often acknowledge. Not formally, anyway.
But it comes up a lot. With my Boyfriend. And after the screaming match we had last night I finally realized: He just doesn't get it.
What happens is he has a tendency to not call, to not come home when he says, to just be flaky when he goes out. Unfortunately what happens is I start to wonder. To worry. And it quickly escalates into full blown....well, I don't know quite how to explain it. It's not quite terror, it's not quite paranoia, it's mostly paralyzing fear. A sense of imagining the worst case scenario. And when he's out with another girl (or girls in this case) well, you can imagine where my mind goes.
And it's really odd because I can hear the voice of logic in my head trying to argue with the fear. But it's like fear just eats it. I feel irrational, illogical, hysterical.
What I'm saying is I freak the fuck out.
And when my Boyfriend finally comes home, or calls, I am beside myself then. I am so angry and scared and just downright bugged out I freak out on him.
Which part me of says he deserves for being so careless. But he sees it as carefree.
There is a big difference between how he sees it and how I see it.
As I told him last night, I don't want him to enable my problem. I realize it is my problem. I'm not asking him to not go out, to not talk to girls, to not go drinking with his friends, to not have a good time. That would be enabling my fear, by allowing me to not deal with it. I don't want that.
All I'm asking is that he be sensitive to it. And this is what I'm not getting.
I think he takes it personally, and I don't blame him for that. He sees it as I don't trust him, and it's an affront to his honor and integrity. I understand that. Even though I keep explaining to him that it has nothing to do with him. It has EVERYTHING to do with sitting and waiting for the phone to ring.
That is what drives me insane.
If he would only call me and say, "Yah, we're all gonna be out for a while, it could be late before I get in." I would have a correct time to not panic. But if he says he'll be here in an hour and doesn't come home for 6, well that gave me 5 hours to freak out. 5 hours is waaaaaaaaaaaaay to long to sit and stew in your own fear. I find myself unable to fight it that long. I'm usually good for an hour, hour and a half. After that all bets are off.
So I ask him, why can't you just call me? Tell me you're having fun and just want to stay out. That's all I'm asking. Just help me keep sane. I swear normal couples do this. I'm not asking for a tracking signal here. Just a clue!
But he sees it as a lack of trust. He's told me it embarrasses him, that he has to call in and check up with his girlfriend. He told me last night, "Well, apparently I need to call every 15 fucking minutes with you so you don't freak out!"
~deep breath~
I really despise it when he exaggerates things like that.
I understand my REACTION is flawed. I understand I need professional help in dealing with my reactionary ways.
But all I'm asking for is a little compassion here. A little understanding. A little pat on the head, "It's ok, don't worry, I love you, everythings fine." That's all.
Is that really too much to ask?
My Boyfriend seems to think it is.
Now, he's a smart guy. So I'm wondering if maybe my Issue isn't somehow overlapping some Issue of his. I mean, some argument with authority kind of thing. I told him I don't want to be his momma, or act like one. I just want to know a realistic game plan. The game plan changes? Fine, just clue me in. Don't leave me hanging for hours on end. One, it's just rude! But two, he knows I will freak out. Why would he do that to me? He knows he can call and make me feel better, but he won't. Because it makes him feel smothered.
Well that's just dandy.
And it makes me feel like he trying to be cruel.
And that's what makes me bitch at him when he gets home. Then he reacts to me being a bitch by being an asshole and around and around we go.
At an impasse.
I've been thinking about it all day. I am horribly aware of the fact that this was not resolved and he left for work. I'm trying hard to remain calm and talk it out, but if he's pissed off after work and does it to me again tonight, well, I don't know. I just don't know.
It's just cruel.
I don't know how he doesn't see that.
I'm not saying it's ok for me to freak out. But damn, you know? If you know someone is traumatized by something, most people will try to be gentle with them about it.
Not him.
If anything, he jabs me about it.
He really is a loving wonderful person. I don't understand this at all.
Where to even start?
The Boyfriend went out last night with the girls. No biggie. I was pouty but ok about it. He said he would be home in an hour, hour and a half.
He didn't come home till 6 hours later, and never bothered to call me to tell me what was up.
At first, I was ok. I tried making up excuses in my head to keep myself calm. He probably ran into some people (which he did) and lost track of time.
Well, since I didn't know, panic and fear eventually got the best of me.
Let's be clear about this: I am damaged goods. I know that. The Boyfriend knows that. But I don't think he gets it, at all.
My ex tormented me in ways I like to not think about. All mental. He was a controlling bastard who very slowly and with great skill managed to pull me away from everything and everyone, leaving me alone and isolated and meek.
For those of you who know me now that sounds pretty funny. But he was the one who taught me how to stand up for myself. It just took me a while to figure it out. Over two years, to be precise.
So for two years (through my pregnancy with my son and the year and a half after it) more or less I sat at home with no car, no phone, and no way to get out of the hell my life had become. He managed to convince me that he was trying to save money for the baby, that's why we didn't need a phone, that's why instead of fixing his car he'll just use mine, leaving me stranded, when in reality he was just out fucking anything with two legs. See, if I don't have a car and don't have a phone I can't very well catch him, now can I?
Well, I finally did and needless to say he's long gone history. But it left me emotionally scarred in a way I don't often acknowledge. Not formally, anyway.
But it comes up a lot. With my Boyfriend. And after the screaming match we had last night I finally realized: He just doesn't get it.
What happens is he has a tendency to not call, to not come home when he says, to just be flaky when he goes out. Unfortunately what happens is I start to wonder. To worry. And it quickly escalates into full blown....well, I don't know quite how to explain it. It's not quite terror, it's not quite paranoia, it's mostly paralyzing fear. A sense of imagining the worst case scenario. And when he's out with another girl (or girls in this case) well, you can imagine where my mind goes.
And it's really odd because I can hear the voice of logic in my head trying to argue with the fear. But it's like fear just eats it. I feel irrational, illogical, hysterical.
What I'm saying is I freak the fuck out.
And when my Boyfriend finally comes home, or calls, I am beside myself then. I am so angry and scared and just downright bugged out I freak out on him.
Which part me of says he deserves for being so careless. But he sees it as carefree.
There is a big difference between how he sees it and how I see it.
As I told him last night, I don't want him to enable my problem. I realize it is my problem. I'm not asking him to not go out, to not talk to girls, to not go drinking with his friends, to not have a good time. That would be enabling my fear, by allowing me to not deal with it. I don't want that.
All I'm asking is that he be sensitive to it. And this is what I'm not getting.
I think he takes it personally, and I don't blame him for that. He sees it as I don't trust him, and it's an affront to his honor and integrity. I understand that. Even though I keep explaining to him that it has nothing to do with him. It has EVERYTHING to do with sitting and waiting for the phone to ring.
That is what drives me insane.
If he would only call me and say, "Yah, we're all gonna be out for a while, it could be late before I get in." I would have a correct time to not panic. But if he says he'll be here in an hour and doesn't come home for 6, well that gave me 5 hours to freak out. 5 hours is waaaaaaaaaaaaay to long to sit and stew in your own fear. I find myself unable to fight it that long. I'm usually good for an hour, hour and a half. After that all bets are off.
So I ask him, why can't you just call me? Tell me you're having fun and just want to stay out. That's all I'm asking. Just help me keep sane. I swear normal couples do this. I'm not asking for a tracking signal here. Just a clue!
But he sees it as a lack of trust. He's told me it embarrasses him, that he has to call in and check up with his girlfriend. He told me last night, "Well, apparently I need to call every 15 fucking minutes with you so you don't freak out!"
~deep breath~
I really despise it when he exaggerates things like that.
I understand my REACTION is flawed. I understand I need professional help in dealing with my reactionary ways.
But all I'm asking for is a little compassion here. A little understanding. A little pat on the head, "It's ok, don't worry, I love you, everythings fine." That's all.
Is that really too much to ask?
My Boyfriend seems to think it is.
Now, he's a smart guy. So I'm wondering if maybe my Issue isn't somehow overlapping some Issue of his. I mean, some argument with authority kind of thing. I told him I don't want to be his momma, or act like one. I just want to know a realistic game plan. The game plan changes? Fine, just clue me in. Don't leave me hanging for hours on end. One, it's just rude! But two, he knows I will freak out. Why would he do that to me? He knows he can call and make me feel better, but he won't. Because it makes him feel smothered.
Well that's just dandy.
And it makes me feel like he trying to be cruel.
And that's what makes me bitch at him when he gets home. Then he reacts to me being a bitch by being an asshole and around and around we go.
At an impasse.
I've been thinking about it all day. I am horribly aware of the fact that this was not resolved and he left for work. I'm trying hard to remain calm and talk it out, but if he's pissed off after work and does it to me again tonight, well, I don't know. I just don't know.
It's just cruel.
I don't know how he doesn't see that.
I'm not saying it's ok for me to freak out. But damn, you know? If you know someone is traumatized by something, most people will try to be gentle with them about it.
Not him.
If anything, he jabs me about it.
He really is a loving wonderful person. I don't understand this at all.
Friday, January 02, 2004
Today I was at a hotel downtown and a car full of (young studly) guys pulls up. They all come in and start talking to me. They're asking me how much the rooms are, I tell them I don't know, I don't work there. They ask what other hotels are around. I tell them I don't really know exacts, on account of how I LIVE here, I don't stay in hotels in Asheville. I only frequent the lobbies when work requires it.
(No, I'm not a whore)
ANYWAY,
they are all being really friendly and cute and asked me if I wanted to hang out with them tonight, where are the hot clubs in town, do I have any friends?
Turns out they're selling perfume, the one guy tells me. They do shows, he says, like for Jay Z and Ludacris. I ask him, "Ludacris has a perfume?" and he says yah, and I ask if I can smell it. It's Burberry, and damn, it does smell pretty good. It's still stuck on my hand, and I keep smelling it.
Nice.
(No, I'm not a whore)
ANYWAY,
they are all being really friendly and cute and asked me if I wanted to hang out with them tonight, where are the hot clubs in town, do I have any friends?
Turns out they're selling perfume, the one guy tells me. They do shows, he says, like for Jay Z and Ludacris. I ask him, "Ludacris has a perfume?" and he says yah, and I ask if I can smell it. It's Burberry, and damn, it does smell pretty good. It's still stuck on my hand, and I keep smelling it.
Nice.
It's been a really long day. The Boyfriend is hanging out with his female friends again, and it's hard right now. He called me from the bar and it's difficult not to be jealous or at the very least, whiny. I told him that. I told him I had a long day and I want him to pay attention to me. Not a bunch of other girls, who, may I be so astute to point out, are NOT me. He said, "You're my girl and I love you. I'll pay attention to you the rest of my life." To which I said, "Yah, just not right now." And he laughed and said, "Yah, just not right now."
I'm trying to be not so fucking jealous.
I really think a shrink needs to be involved.
I'm serious. My knee jerk reactionism looks and smells like post traumatic stress disorder. Which makes sense considering the pure hell my sons dad dragged me through.
Am I ever gonna get over it?
Doesn't seem like it.
And it seems to get worse at times. Sometimes it just seems so much easier to set it off.
Mostly when I'm tired, exhausted, and needy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am so burnt out at work.
But today was the last day, the last day of schedule contortionism, the last day of failure.
That's what I realized today.
In my own extremely anal compulsive way, the holidays are some hideous form of torture to me. I have work to do that I simply cannot accomplish in it's entirety. Or if I can, it is sub par to what I consider worthy. It's not bad, it's just not as good as I am capable of, and frankly that drives me insane. All day long I am looking at my own work and not satisfied, and I think it chips away at me, week after week, over the holidays.
Thinking back, I didn't feel this way at Thanksgiving. I went into the holiday season optimistic (about work, anyway). I thought I had planned ahead sufficiently and wouldn't really run into any problems. But good old hindsight informs me that was seriously unrealistic and I really should quit being so hard on myself.
And then me ole Saturn first house says I could figure out a way to make it all run smoother, yes indeed. If only I think about it, really drag it over the coals, yessiree I bet I could make the holidays run like a well oiled machine, mmmmhmmmm, just gotta plan it all out better, yes, just wasn't quit organized enough, won't fail next time, not with all this planning I will accomplish.....
AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So it hit me today, what feels so crappy to me is the taste of failure. It's not like anyone could have done a better job than me, but I could have done a better job than I did
AND GOOD GOD I AM SO HARD ON MYSELF!
You think a shrink may be in order?
I agree, pal, I agree.
I'm trying to be not so fucking jealous.
I really think a shrink needs to be involved.
I'm serious. My knee jerk reactionism looks and smells like post traumatic stress disorder. Which makes sense considering the pure hell my sons dad dragged me through.
Am I ever gonna get over it?
Doesn't seem like it.
And it seems to get worse at times. Sometimes it just seems so much easier to set it off.
Mostly when I'm tired, exhausted, and needy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am so burnt out at work.
But today was the last day, the last day of schedule contortionism, the last day of failure.
That's what I realized today.
In my own extremely anal compulsive way, the holidays are some hideous form of torture to me. I have work to do that I simply cannot accomplish in it's entirety. Or if I can, it is sub par to what I consider worthy. It's not bad, it's just not as good as I am capable of, and frankly that drives me insane. All day long I am looking at my own work and not satisfied, and I think it chips away at me, week after week, over the holidays.
Thinking back, I didn't feel this way at Thanksgiving. I went into the holiday season optimistic (about work, anyway). I thought I had planned ahead sufficiently and wouldn't really run into any problems. But good old hindsight informs me that was seriously unrealistic and I really should quit being so hard on myself.
And then me ole Saturn first house says I could figure out a way to make it all run smoother, yes indeed. If only I think about it, really drag it over the coals, yessiree I bet I could make the holidays run like a well oiled machine, mmmmhmmmm, just gotta plan it all out better, yes, just wasn't quit organized enough, won't fail next time, not with all this planning I will accomplish.....
AAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
So it hit me today, what feels so crappy to me is the taste of failure. It's not like anyone could have done a better job than me, but I could have done a better job than I did
AND GOOD GOD I AM SO HARD ON MYSELF!
You think a shrink may be in order?
I agree, pal, I agree.
Thursday, January 01, 2004
New Year
So, I ended up getting to go out last night after all, much to my surprise.
And whaddyaknow, all of a sudden the stupidest holiday of the year became a hell of a lot of fun.
(lightbulb going off over this mutant blogs head)
Oooooooooooooooooh, so THAT'S why everyone likes New Years so much. Because they all go out and have fun.
I see.
It occurs to me I need to find a babysitter more often.
It's a completely different holiday when you're in a large crowd of happy dancing people.
Nope, don't have any idea who that is. But if you were shaking your ass at Broadways on New Years, it could be you.
They had a really great DJ. I wasn't all that thrilled at first, but apparently this guy knows to save the best stuff for later. It's was 80's night, and I've never been before, although plenty of my friends have told me how great it was. Great music is in the ear of the beholder, methinks. But they were indeed correct. My fear was that the DJ would play terrible music from the 80's, but after hearing Generation X, The Ramones, Violent Femmes, New Order, etc etc, I was in flashback heaven. My friend Lynn leaned over at one point and yelled, "This music makes me feel all giddy! Like a little kid!" and I knew exactly what he meant. Which of course made us both feel terribly old all of a sudden, cause a lot of the people in there were in diapers when MTV came out. Who gives a shit when you're that happy? So we danced and danced, grinning like jackals and having a damn good time.
And whaddyaknow, all of a sudden the stupidest holiday of the year became a hell of a lot of fun.
(lightbulb going off over this mutant blogs head)
Oooooooooooooooooh, so THAT'S why everyone likes New Years so much. Because they all go out and have fun.
I see.
It occurs to me I need to find a babysitter more often.
It's a completely different holiday when you're in a large crowd of happy dancing people.
Nope, don't have any idea who that is. But if you were shaking your ass at Broadways on New Years, it could be you.
They had a really great DJ. I wasn't all that thrilled at first, but apparently this guy knows to save the best stuff for later. It's was 80's night, and I've never been before, although plenty of my friends have told me how great it was. Great music is in the ear of the beholder, methinks. But they were indeed correct. My fear was that the DJ would play terrible music from the 80's, but after hearing Generation X, The Ramones, Violent Femmes, New Order, etc etc, I was in flashback heaven. My friend Lynn leaned over at one point and yelled, "This music makes me feel all giddy! Like a little kid!" and I knew exactly what he meant. Which of course made us both feel terribly old all of a sudden, cause a lot of the people in there were in diapers when MTV came out. Who gives a shit when you're that happy? So we danced and danced, grinning like jackals and having a damn good time.
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