Oh my my my.
Well, today was the X's dads wedding.
The wedding itself was tear jerking. The bride, whom I adore, came in crying. I could actually peek through the semi open doors from where I was sitting, to see her standing there trying to pull herself together before she walked down the aisle. She's on the arm of her eldest son, and I can see from the look on her face that she's sobbing from joy, that this is the happiest day of her life (or close enough) and at the same time she is crying, she doesn't want to stop, either. This is a torrent of emotion and joy that she wants to revel in and savor every last sweet second of.
Little empathic me was crying before she made it to the door.
Then she comes in, and now the groom can see her. Once she passes me, I look over to him, to see the look on his face...and he's crying too, with that expression that only wonderful men get when the woman they love is distressed...and he is also overcome, and now I'm realizing that I am delusional for not bringing tissues; what the hell was I thinking??? I am a TOTAL crybaby. Duh! And her son gives her away, they say a prayer, and soon get to the vows. X's dad is choked up and voice cracking all the way through, actually has to pause a few moments in mid sentence just to finish without sobbing. I am, of course, crying again...for their joy. For their bliss. For the realization that they were both terrified to love again, but the experience of love was far more important than their fears.
I feel self absorbed and short sighted to have been so worried about my feelings/entanglements with the X to have overshadowed the event itself, until the moment actually came. The only moment I had that was sad was when they went to light the unity candle and they stood there close together, smiling and laughing and wiping their eyes while the vocalist finished the song. Something about the way the two of them talked and smiled and beamed at each other, with a familiarity that was obvious, made me so sad. The X and I had that; after 5 years you know someone pretty well. That moment made that loss very apparent to me, somehow.
Then the wedding was over and everyone walked outside, and the awkward moments began. People wanted to take pictures of the X and I together. Usually every picture anyone took he would be kissing me cheek, but now....well, it was stiff and unnatural for him to put his arm around me and just smile. It felt like we were both smiling to look how we're supposed to look in a picture from a wedding, but that it was an inaccurate portrayal of how things really were. And what weird pictures- here's one of the best man and his ex girlfriend, who came to the wedding after he cheated on her and they broke up....look at them smiling! I felt like an animal that kept getting it's fur rubbed the wrong way, but kept smiling anyway. And the sun was shining and everyone else is so happy and so full of joy, and we are in some bizarre-o little twilight zone of our own, where we look like a happy couple but we aren't.
The reception itself was far more challenging, as people (namely his family) now had the option of cornering me to say hi/torment me with little comments about how wonderful he and I look together and how they'll miss me.
We stayed until after everyone had cake, at which point I was guessing was a long enough time to leave without appearing rude. We leave, and all the way home is this weird mixture of relief and sadness, with both of us knowing there is no reason now for us to ever hang out again, other than to just be friends...but will we? That remains to be seen.
I drive home after dropping him off and he calls me later. We have the first deep, honest, meaningful conversation we've had in maybe over a year. We both agree that things have happened for a reason, although we may not entirely understand them.
We both cry, and after I hang up I feel like someone has ripped off my outer shell, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
It feels like something that needs to occur, but the feeling is nauseating.
I've been a tough ass kicking bitch for years...this new found tenderness is confusing. I think it has little to do with the X and everything to do with the new boyfriend, Mr. Wonderful. I think someone who shows such obvious tender concern for me is causing me to want to not be so walled away from the experience of love; that maybe love (with a tenderness I haven't been able to experience in my recent unhealthy relationships) is best when enjoyed in a vulnerable state. It makes sense. It also feels like I'm entering open heart surgery with a doctor who could be a sadistic mad scientist, for all I know.
So I'm having these overwhelming feelings of fear and distrust tonight. And Mr. Wonderful senses this and asks me if there's anything I want to talk about. And while part of me wants to go completely obsessive on his ass, asking him every freaking neurotic question about every detail of his life in an effort to trust him, another part of thinks he could be a wonderful guy who deserves better than my paranoia. Here he is trying to put my suspicions to rest and this is how I thank him for all the compassion? By dragging him over the coals in an effort to prove he's not a lying cheating asshole out to blow my heart out with a small grenade just for fun?
More on this another time I'm sure. I meant to go to sleep, not stay up and blog. But I fell asleep and had some dream about battling something in the dark- maybe blind.
When I woke up I thought battling my own demons was something worth delving into for a while.
But now my eyes are closing....
Monday, May 31, 2004
"You should be an island to yourself, a refuge to yourself, not dependent on any other but taking refuge in the truth and none other than the truth. And how do you become an island and a refuge to yourself?
In this way. You see and contemplate your body as composed of all the forces of the universe. Ardently and mindfully you steer your body-self by restraining your discontent with the world about you. In the same way, observe and contemplate your feelings and use that same ardent restraint and self-possession against enslavement by greed or desire. By seeing attachment to your body and feelings as blocking the truth, you dwell in self-possession and ardent liberation from those ties.
This is how you live as an island to yourself and a refuge to yourself. Whoever dwells in this contemplation, islanded by the truth and taking refuge in the truth--that one will come out of the darkness and into the light."
-Digha Nikaya
From "Buddha Speaks," edited by Anne Bancroft, 2000. Reprinted by arrangement with Shambhala Publications, Boston, www.shambhala.com.
In this way. You see and contemplate your body as composed of all the forces of the universe. Ardently and mindfully you steer your body-self by restraining your discontent with the world about you. In the same way, observe and contemplate your feelings and use that same ardent restraint and self-possession against enslavement by greed or desire. By seeing attachment to your body and feelings as blocking the truth, you dwell in self-possession and ardent liberation from those ties.
This is how you live as an island to yourself and a refuge to yourself. Whoever dwells in this contemplation, islanded by the truth and taking refuge in the truth--that one will come out of the darkness and into the light."
-Digha Nikaya
From "Buddha Speaks," edited by Anne Bancroft, 2000. Reprinted by arrangement with Shambhala Publications, Boston, www.shambhala.com.
Friday, May 28, 2004
I see this Frito delivery truck driving through downtown. You will note that it says, "Food For The Fun Of It" on the back. Ummmm....food for nourishment, I can dig. Food for indulgent taste, I can also dig. But food for fun?
I was struck with the image of a group of obese people yelling, "Weeeeeeeeeee!" while munching Fritos.
It didn't make me want to eat any.
May be not such a good advertising scheme...
a wedding noose?
I saw this hanging from the ceiling in the church where my X's dads wedding rehearsal was held last night. It's a tiny country church, and apparently it rings the bells.
As my X's dad walked past it I started rolling. I asked him if that was just in case he changed his mind, perhaps? He laughed and tried to stick it around his neck. Wouldn't fit.
My X commented on how apt it was.
I thought about what a doofus he is.
Ok, it's for the bells, I got it. But yellow industrial grade rope? A pretty cord with a tassel on the end, I could see that, yah. But this? Too freaking funny. It hangs right in the middle of the aisle, by the way. RIGHT before you get to the alter.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
twinkie munchin dipshit
Tonight is the X's dads wedding rehearsal. For some reason, I am invited. I'm not really sure why. I'm not IN the wedding, nor are the X and I together....so it's odd. I'm guessing they want me to give him a ride, one, and two, that they may be trying to hang out as much as possible, being aware that after this wedding there is not likely a reason I will ever see them again.
(pause)
SO. I told them I would go and I will. I get a free dinner out of it, anyway. That's my take on it.
This morning I go by the X's work on my way to work. I was just thinking how I need to call him to find out the details about tonight, and I notice his scooter is still sitting outside work, which can only mean one thing: he went home with his Hussy. Wednesday night was always their "Date Night" (as I called it) and they both close that night together, alooooooooone......So. It pisses me off, because it stings. I don't want to allow myself that sting, since I believe I should not give a shit what Mr. Fucknut does anymore, or ever. But I DO care, because it's HER. And she's a shitty human being.
I try to reason my way out of this emotion. I've been saying lately that I should be grateful for her, for breaking us up so I could meet Mr. Perfect. If it weren't for her, I would still be with that miserable bastard banging my head against a wall trying to work things out and going insane in the process. I should be grateful...but she's a skanky lying bitch so she'll get no thanks from me! Nothing but a kick in the head. I will thank God instead. Also, I got to pondering how I should be thankful she's around to distract the fucknut. If he wasn't hanging out with her I'm guessing he'd still be calling me 10 times a day. And I would worry about him. It seems I don't have to, since she's all too willing to step in and ~HA! HAHAHAHAHA!~ try to fill my shoes. (breakdown into hysterical peals of laughter)
Like I used to tell him, you've got gourmet cake at home, why are you eating a Twinkie?
DUDE! It's a fucking Twinkie! (laughing)
(pause)
SO. I told them I would go and I will. I get a free dinner out of it, anyway. That's my take on it.
This morning I go by the X's work on my way to work. I was just thinking how I need to call him to find out the details about tonight, and I notice his scooter is still sitting outside work, which can only mean one thing: he went home with his Hussy. Wednesday night was always their "Date Night" (as I called it) and they both close that night together, alooooooooone......So. It pisses me off, because it stings. I don't want to allow myself that sting, since I believe I should not give a shit what Mr. Fucknut does anymore, or ever. But I DO care, because it's HER. And she's a shitty human being.
I try to reason my way out of this emotion. I've been saying lately that I should be grateful for her, for breaking us up so I could meet Mr. Perfect. If it weren't for her, I would still be with that miserable bastard banging my head against a wall trying to work things out and going insane in the process. I should be grateful...but she's a skanky lying bitch so she'll get no thanks from me! Nothing but a kick in the head. I will thank God instead. Also, I got to pondering how I should be thankful she's around to distract the fucknut. If he wasn't hanging out with her I'm guessing he'd still be calling me 10 times a day. And I would worry about him. It seems I don't have to, since she's all too willing to step in and ~HA! HAHAHAHAHA!~ try to fill my shoes. (breakdown into hysterical peals of laughter)
Like I used to tell him, you've got gourmet cake at home, why are you eating a Twinkie?
DUDE! It's a fucking Twinkie! (laughing)
Wednesday, May 26, 2004
news that makes me wonder about humanity
So I'm looking through WLOS website and I see this:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sex Bracelets Popular In Mountains
Students across the mountains are wearing colored jelly bracelets. But many say they don't know there's a hidden meaning behind the colors. Some students in the United States say each color stands for a different sexual favor - from kissing to much more. Local teachers say they were in the dark about the hidden meaning, and plan to talk to students and classes about the bracelets and what others may think they mean.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooook. First, let me state I have seen these bracelets. Second, let me state I wore these bracelets- 20 years ago! (Madonna? Hello? Like a virgin?) Third, the bracelets do not mean diddly squat. Fourth, kids will make up anything at all to work with their raging hormones; if it's not jelly bracelets it will be their freakin socks. (Remember the "earring on the right means they're gay"...or was it left?) Fifth, the teachers are going to talk about it to students. That will go amazingly well. Let's see....
"Good morning class. I want to talk to you about a very important issue that has come to my attention. I know many of you like wearing the jelly bracelets, and I want you to know that we adults have caught on to their secret meanings. Sarah, can you come to the front of the class? See, kids, Sarah has on a purple bracelet. That means she likes it in the butt. Jessica? She's got on a yellow/red combo, meaning she likes having sex with multiple horses, both male and female. Susie has a black, white and orange grouping, meaning she's a straight up Ho. Now I know you're all a little young to understand this at 5, but stay with me here...."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sex Bracelets Popular In Mountains
Students across the mountains are wearing colored jelly bracelets. But many say they don't know there's a hidden meaning behind the colors. Some students in the United States say each color stands for a different sexual favor - from kissing to much more. Local teachers say they were in the dark about the hidden meaning, and plan to talk to students and classes about the bracelets and what others may think they mean.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oooooooooooooooooooooooooook. First, let me state I have seen these bracelets. Second, let me state I wore these bracelets- 20 years ago! (Madonna? Hello? Like a virgin?) Third, the bracelets do not mean diddly squat. Fourth, kids will make up anything at all to work with their raging hormones; if it's not jelly bracelets it will be their freakin socks. (Remember the "earring on the right means they're gay"...or was it left?) Fifth, the teachers are going to talk about it to students. That will go amazingly well. Let's see....
"Good morning class. I want to talk to you about a very important issue that has come to my attention. I know many of you like wearing the jelly bracelets, and I want you to know that we adults have caught on to their secret meanings. Sarah, can you come to the front of the class? See, kids, Sarah has on a purple bracelet. That means she likes it in the butt. Jessica? She's got on a yellow/red combo, meaning she likes having sex with multiple horses, both male and female. Susie has a black, white and orange grouping, meaning she's a straight up Ho. Now I know you're all a little young to understand this at 5, but stay with me here...."
So I'm seeing this guy (this wonderful-fabulous-mind-blowing guy)...and today he wasn't online when I thought he would be. Well, Yours Truly (the I-picked-way-too-many-alcoholics-to-date-and-am-therefore-working-through-my-trauma girl) sat here feeling panicky and wondered where he was until I checked my voice mail. And there was a message from him, telling me he wouldn't be on till later and basically not to freak out (Ok, that's not what he said, but that's what it translates to for me, in practical terms).
He called?
He called?
So I wouldn't worry?
Simply earth shattering, people. I had a feeling normal people extended this courtesy but I wasn't positive.
So, I wonder: Can I relax now?
Do I finally have a Good One?
It seems so. And it occurs to me that I don't know how this works. I'm so used to being defensive and suspicious and worried and FREAKED OUT in general...
And it occurs to me that at least 70% of my daily stress in the LAST 8 YEARS was always over my doofus boyfriends.
WOW.
He called?
He called?
So I wouldn't worry?
Simply earth shattering, people. I had a feeling normal people extended this courtesy but I wasn't positive.
So, I wonder: Can I relax now?
Do I finally have a Good One?
It seems so. And it occurs to me that I don't know how this works. I'm so used to being defensive and suspicious and worried and FREAKED OUT in general...
And it occurs to me that at least 70% of my daily stress in the LAST 8 YEARS was always over my doofus boyfriends.
WOW.
Today I was driving past Pritchard Park and had to stop for a pigeon crossing the road. That's right- a pigeon crossing the road. It was walking directly on the center of the crosswalk and everything, doing that bobbing head thing they do when they walk.
I just sat there and laughed. I mean, he DID have the right of way.
I just sat there and laughed. I mean, he DID have the right of way.
So I've altered my blog to make comments available, and I get this one late last night:
If you read BLOGS and don't comment, you're a pussy and I will eat you. Let me know your feelings on this matter at forcedsubmission@(censored, nyah nyah!!!).com --
Posted by Anonymous to Introspectre at 5/26/2004 01:13:29 AM
And I think to myself, Okey Dokey then! I never thought someone would use my blog as their own personal advertising service. Needless to say I erased that one off the face of the earth (or at least my blog).
Also, please note that "ANONYMOUS" is calling OTHER people pussies. Now that's just funny. What a total shmuck.
If you read BLOGS and don't comment, you're a pussy and I will eat you. Let me know your feelings on this matter at forcedsubmission@(censored, nyah nyah!!!).com --
Posted by Anonymous to Introspectre at 5/26/2004 01:13:29 AM
And I think to myself, Okey Dokey then! I never thought someone would use my blog as their own personal advertising service. Needless to say I erased that one off the face of the earth (or at least my blog).
Also, please note that "ANONYMOUS" is calling OTHER people pussies. Now that's just funny. What a total shmuck.
so...freakin...tired....
Well, after all those dreams I went back to bed and thrashed about with fitful disturbing dreams until the alarm went off. I scowled at it, but realized that would solve nothing.
So I'm rereading them this morning and I find it striking indeed the vast difference between waking and sleeping. Being in love, it seems things are wonderful- then why the negative onslaught while dreaming? My Angel Gabriel suggests my psyche just isn't used to all this joy and must compensate...Oh Fabulous One, you may be right.
All fodder for the shrink, come Friday.
So I'm rereading them this morning and I find it striking indeed the vast difference between waking and sleeping. Being in love, it seems things are wonderful- then why the negative onslaught while dreaming? My Angel Gabriel suggests my psyche just isn't used to all this joy and must compensate...Oh Fabulous One, you may be right.
All fodder for the shrink, come Friday.
more more more irritating dreams
It's 3:30 am and I just woke up from these dreams:
1) I'm in desolate wasteland, having somehow just driven there and am now stranded. Like, I pulled off the exit ramp of the highway only to realize there is nothing there, there is no lights, no people, no NOTHING, somehow I've traveled all this distance hundreds of miles into BFE and now I'm sitting on the exit ramp on a couch (how one drives a couch to nowhere, I haven't a clue.) The point is, the couch provides no shelter, no way to leave, and there I sit on it, with desolation for hundreds of miles in every direction, pitch black nothingness, and jack shit I can do about it. I would be afraid but I don't know exactly WHAT to be afraid of, since I can see and hear nothing. All I know is I am ALONE. And I will sit and wait. Semi comfortably, apparently.
2) I am eating somewhere with someone, and the Ex Boyfriend Who Turned Heroin Addict shows up and sits down next to me. He is part of a crowd of people who sit down. On the other side sits my most recent X, but we are supposed to still be together in the dream. At any rate, the H X sits down and I am so thrilled to see him and so freaked out too that I flush like mad and can barely breathe. It's him! I finally get to see him again! (hello, unfinished business...) And he looks wonderful. And he takes a second to recognize me, and is surprised and says hello. I am so beside myself...then he says , "You remember (his old best friend)?" and points across the table, and at that point I fall off my chair. I don't know what to do, what to say, and sit there with my hand half covering my face and hope I can disappear, or someone will hand me a bag to wear over my head. All this time I am desperately TRYING to hide my reaction from my X (Mr. Recent) who will have himself a fit over my behavior, no doubt.
Later in the dream I spend vast amounts of time looking in the phone book for the H X's phone number, right after talking to the Recent X on the phone- he was at an X employees house, buying coke. I tell him to permanently blow me, we're over. Then I obsess about how to call the H X, since I am now free to pursue whatever the hell I feel like. (sigh)
3) I'm in a friends house, and it is cavernous and beautiful. But something about the largeness of it bothers me, and I keep looking down all the flights of stairs thinking how easy it would be hide something or someone in all that space...and nightfall is coming...and she asks me how my book is coming along. I tell her it occurs to me that I really shouldn't read Stephen King books before bed. (I haven't been lately, by the way, but maybe I should!)
4) The last dream I am walking up the street (my moms house in MI) and see my X employee from previous dream walking across the street to my son, who is standing outside in the snow, barefoot, crying, holding a popsicle. He sees me and is relieved but still bawling. I realize I left him home alone, I just up and left without saying a word to him (I've had dreams of this nature since he was born). The X employee says, "He just called me on the phone and said, 'My mommy disappeared.'"
At that point I woke up in a sweat, and ice cold since I've got the a/c on.
I feel like there is a toothless inbred redneck sitting in my subconscious, slowly plucking out a psychotic melody. I tell him he's fired, but he doesn't move. Just stares at me.
~TWANG!...............TWANG!................TWANG!~
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
1) I'm in desolate wasteland, having somehow just driven there and am now stranded. Like, I pulled off the exit ramp of the highway only to realize there is nothing there, there is no lights, no people, no NOTHING, somehow I've traveled all this distance hundreds of miles into BFE and now I'm sitting on the exit ramp on a couch (how one drives a couch to nowhere, I haven't a clue.) The point is, the couch provides no shelter, no way to leave, and there I sit on it, with desolation for hundreds of miles in every direction, pitch black nothingness, and jack shit I can do about it. I would be afraid but I don't know exactly WHAT to be afraid of, since I can see and hear nothing. All I know is I am ALONE. And I will sit and wait. Semi comfortably, apparently.
2) I am eating somewhere with someone, and the Ex Boyfriend Who Turned Heroin Addict shows up and sits down next to me. He is part of a crowd of people who sit down. On the other side sits my most recent X, but we are supposed to still be together in the dream. At any rate, the H X sits down and I am so thrilled to see him and so freaked out too that I flush like mad and can barely breathe. It's him! I finally get to see him again! (hello, unfinished business...) And he looks wonderful. And he takes a second to recognize me, and is surprised and says hello. I am so beside myself...then he says , "You remember (his old best friend)?" and points across the table, and at that point I fall off my chair. I don't know what to do, what to say, and sit there with my hand half covering my face and hope I can disappear, or someone will hand me a bag to wear over my head. All this time I am desperately TRYING to hide my reaction from my X (Mr. Recent) who will have himself a fit over my behavior, no doubt.
Later in the dream I spend vast amounts of time looking in the phone book for the H X's phone number, right after talking to the Recent X on the phone- he was at an X employees house, buying coke. I tell him to permanently blow me, we're over. Then I obsess about how to call the H X, since I am now free to pursue whatever the hell I feel like. (sigh)
3) I'm in a friends house, and it is cavernous and beautiful. But something about the largeness of it bothers me, and I keep looking down all the flights of stairs thinking how easy it would be hide something or someone in all that space...and nightfall is coming...and she asks me how my book is coming along. I tell her it occurs to me that I really shouldn't read Stephen King books before bed. (I haven't been lately, by the way, but maybe I should!)
4) The last dream I am walking up the street (my moms house in MI) and see my X employee from previous dream walking across the street to my son, who is standing outside in the snow, barefoot, crying, holding a popsicle. He sees me and is relieved but still bawling. I realize I left him home alone, I just up and left without saying a word to him (I've had dreams of this nature since he was born). The X employee says, "He just called me on the phone and said, 'My mommy disappeared.'"
At that point I woke up in a sweat, and ice cold since I've got the a/c on.
I feel like there is a toothless inbred redneck sitting in my subconscious, slowly plucking out a psychotic melody. I tell him he's fired, but he doesn't move. Just stares at me.
~TWANG!...............TWANG!................TWANG!~
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
Monday, May 24, 2004
The X's dad calls (I hear it on voice mail). He's looking for the X. Why he calls me I couldn't guess, but he asks me to call him back. I could, but I don't. I like him just fine, mind you, but I have NO desire to get into any lengthy discussion about the X and our (impossible) future together. Which is what will occur- his dad has some sort of guilt complex over it, to some extent, as if he is responsible for what happened through a lack of parenting, perhaps? I don't care to even ponder it any more. At any rate, I don't call his dad back, instead I call him. I mistakenly thought that that conversation would be LESS emotional and therefore shorter.
(EYES ROLLING)
You know, I've been feeling kind of puny today. But talking to him sure made me feel better about myself and my current state of whininess. I am not excusing my neurosis, mind you, just noticing clearly how far I've come in the last few months.
So. The X starts crying, telling me how he went to Big Lots and it wasn't the same (we loved checking out all the stuff) and how they took the picture machine out (we had tons of goofy pictures taken of ourselves) and how they (sob!) were playing love songs the whole time he was in there....
>insert deadpan pitiless expression here<
Uh huhhh....yes, I know how that feels, I tell him. He apologizes for being a crybaby. I say, "Yah, I was too."
It's weird, how our conversations are now. Now that he knows I'm seeing someone else and it just eats at him...so now the shoe is on the other foot. Now I'm moving on and he's barely eating, barely sleeping, cries all the time... And every time we talk he is pitiful and needy and although I express a small amount of sympathy (hearing a man cry just tugs at the heartstrings) I'm generally very matter of fact, very quietly matter of fact about it all. If he is describing some horrible thing he is experiencing (say love songs wherever he goes) and I KNOW because I felt the same way when he was hanging out with HER, then I tell him, "Yes, I remember that happened to me a lot. That sucks."
Now, it may come off as I'm trying to be cruel but I'm not- I'm merely not pandering to his need for pity! I'm stating the facts as they are- I know how he feels, I've been there.
This does not console him, I can tell.
As a nice person, I wish I could console him somehow. As his traumatized X girlfriend, all I can say is karma blows.
Even more importantly? I don't care to enable him anymore.
(EYES ROLLING)
You know, I've been feeling kind of puny today. But talking to him sure made me feel better about myself and my current state of whininess. I am not excusing my neurosis, mind you, just noticing clearly how far I've come in the last few months.
So. The X starts crying, telling me how he went to Big Lots and it wasn't the same (we loved checking out all the stuff) and how they took the picture machine out (we had tons of goofy pictures taken of ourselves) and how they (sob!) were playing love songs the whole time he was in there....
>insert deadpan pitiless expression here<
Uh huhhh....yes, I know how that feels, I tell him. He apologizes for being a crybaby. I say, "Yah, I was too."
It's weird, how our conversations are now. Now that he knows I'm seeing someone else and it just eats at him...so now the shoe is on the other foot. Now I'm moving on and he's barely eating, barely sleeping, cries all the time... And every time we talk he is pitiful and needy and although I express a small amount of sympathy (hearing a man cry just tugs at the heartstrings) I'm generally very matter of fact, very quietly matter of fact about it all. If he is describing some horrible thing he is experiencing (say love songs wherever he goes) and I KNOW because I felt the same way when he was hanging out with HER, then I tell him, "Yes, I remember that happened to me a lot. That sucks."
Now, it may come off as I'm trying to be cruel but I'm not- I'm merely not pandering to his need for pity! I'm stating the facts as they are- I know how he feels, I've been there.
This does not console him, I can tell.
As a nice person, I wish I could console him somehow. As his traumatized X girlfriend, all I can say is karma blows.
Even more importantly? I don't care to enable him anymore.
Strange dreams....
Your Truly did not sleep well. I'm guessing it was all the Diet Coke I chugged at Chuck E. Cheese. I was so tired- but then I was awake, didn't sleep for shit and now I'm more tired. BRILLIANT! (smacks self in the head) D'oh!!!
At any rate, the one dream I remember most clearly was my sons dad calling me to tell me "they found out who kidnapped him last year". ~Now, my son has not been kidnapped, but apparently he had been in my dream.~ So his dad had discovered where these people live, and the last thing I remember we were on our way there. To likely torture and kill these people, in all honesty.
I woke up with so much freaking adrenaline coursing through my veins...and thought, ok, it's 4:30 in the morning, why not make a sandwich and write to my mom, eh?
So I did.
Oh sleep! How you elude me!
Your Truly did not sleep well. I'm guessing it was all the Diet Coke I chugged at Chuck E. Cheese. I was so tired- but then I was awake, didn't sleep for shit and now I'm more tired. BRILLIANT! (smacks self in the head) D'oh!!!
At any rate, the one dream I remember most clearly was my sons dad calling me to tell me "they found out who kidnapped him last year". ~Now, my son has not been kidnapped, but apparently he had been in my dream.~ So his dad had discovered where these people live, and the last thing I remember we were on our way there. To likely torture and kill these people, in all honesty.
I woke up with so much freaking adrenaline coursing through my veins...and thought, ok, it's 4:30 in the morning, why not make a sandwich and write to my mom, eh?
So I did.
Oh sleep! How you elude me!
chuck e. cheese haiku
Dad bonding with son
doing what he does best- play
...I sit and ponder
bright lights, singing mouse
a cacophony of noise
kids chaotic joy
doing what he does best- play
...I sit and ponder
bright lights, singing mouse
a cacophony of noise
kids chaotic joy
"Remember the clear light, the pure clear white light from which everything in the universe comes, to which everything in the universe returns; the original nature of your own mind. The natural state of the universe unmanifest.
Let go into the clear light, trust it, merge with it. It is your own true nature, it is home."
-Tibetan Book of the Dead
Let go into the clear light, trust it, merge with it. It is your own true nature, it is home."
-Tibetan Book of the Dead
Sunday, May 23, 2004
inside haiku jokes for a God
hot steamy humid
like a cat left in the rain
her fur wet, and tired
she who signs her mail
Innocently, Your Angel
ready for bed now!
Saturday, May 22, 2004
Friday, May 21, 2004
Yay! Back to the shrink I go.
Well, actually, I just came back...at any rate...
for the last hour I've sat and relayed my story to her about how love has magically snuck up behind me and totally kicked my ass. In a great way, of course ;)
She reacted in the exact way I expected, which is exactly as I've reacted: with joy and trepidation. How much does he drink? Is he stable? Drug use? What issues does he have? she wants to know. She knows these are monumental concerns for me, and they need to be addressed. I tell her and she relaxes a bit. As I'm telling her about him, she goes between laughing delightedly to a look of concern. I laugh and tell her I feel the exact same way: if someone told me the story I'm telling her, I'd think they were off their freakin rocker. I would think they are obviously deluding themselves in some manner, and smile at them anyway while they told the story, all the while thinking, "You poor deluded bastard." Depending on how intelligent the person was, however, I would entertain the idea that perhaps that crazy, ultimate, wonderful perfect love was possible. If so, I would be envious, and happy for them.
She is completely blown away. I'm completely blown away. She asks me how I feel about it, how do I REALLY feel about it? I say, "It's the real deal." And it is: it resonates in every fiber and molecule of my being. I tell her I have fear, but that it's not quite fear, it's like... I can't fit this into a box; I have this preconceived idea of what true love will be and I can't...(grunt)stuff this...into...that BOX. God knows I'm trying.
So logic is telling me that this doesn't make sense. But is that fear? No, I tell her, it's more that I'm treading into a complete unknown; healthy relationships are uncharted territory for me, much less healthy mind boggling ones! She asks me if I've ever felt this way with another man, I tell her no. She asks, "Have you ever felt this way, even for a brief time, right at the beginning?" I think....and I tell her, "Not like this. And if I did, it wasn't with this complete lack of misgivings. There are none."
She leans back and smiles.
I tell her I feel like all the hard work, all the introspection and self discovery I've done over the years...it feels like I'm finally being rewarded. Except that's not quite it, I say. It's not a reward, it's what I deserve. She agrees. I tell her I feel like someone finally sees me. For the first time in my life, someone sees ALL of me. I've had cosmic relationships with empathic understanding before, but this has got a depth to it that I've never even dreamed of. I feel like finally someone sees me, ALL of me. And that not only does he see all of me, but he LIKES all of me.
It makes me think back to a dream I blogged in the last few months about seeing these pictures a guy had taken of me, where I looked happy and carefree and joyous, and that that is how I feel now. My shrink tells me, "Well, you do have clairvoyant tendencies. It's not unlikely." I smile and say, "Yah."
Also, I find it no small coincidence that last week we did the tapping exercise, where I discovered the reason I've been attracted to alcoholics and taking care of them. So I acknowledge and release that and BAM the next day I'm talking to this guy and ready to meet him? I tell her, "It's like the universe was watching that and said FINALLY and threw him into my lap the second the path was clear for him." She agrees.
Before I leave, I ask her, "Can I be happy now? I need to know."
She hug me and says yes.
Ok. I just wanted to know.
~sigh~
Well, actually, I just came back...at any rate...
for the last hour I've sat and relayed my story to her about how love has magically snuck up behind me and totally kicked my ass. In a great way, of course ;)
She reacted in the exact way I expected, which is exactly as I've reacted: with joy and trepidation. How much does he drink? Is he stable? Drug use? What issues does he have? she wants to know. She knows these are monumental concerns for me, and they need to be addressed. I tell her and she relaxes a bit. As I'm telling her about him, she goes between laughing delightedly to a look of concern. I laugh and tell her I feel the exact same way: if someone told me the story I'm telling her, I'd think they were off their freakin rocker. I would think they are obviously deluding themselves in some manner, and smile at them anyway while they told the story, all the while thinking, "You poor deluded bastard." Depending on how intelligent the person was, however, I would entertain the idea that perhaps that crazy, ultimate, wonderful perfect love was possible. If so, I would be envious, and happy for them.
She is completely blown away. I'm completely blown away. She asks me how I feel about it, how do I REALLY feel about it? I say, "It's the real deal." And it is: it resonates in every fiber and molecule of my being. I tell her I have fear, but that it's not quite fear, it's like... I can't fit this into a box; I have this preconceived idea of what true love will be and I can't...(grunt)stuff this...into...that BOX. God knows I'm trying.
So logic is telling me that this doesn't make sense. But is that fear? No, I tell her, it's more that I'm treading into a complete unknown; healthy relationships are uncharted territory for me, much less healthy mind boggling ones! She asks me if I've ever felt this way with another man, I tell her no. She asks, "Have you ever felt this way, even for a brief time, right at the beginning?" I think....and I tell her, "Not like this. And if I did, it wasn't with this complete lack of misgivings. There are none."
She leans back and smiles.
I tell her I feel like all the hard work, all the introspection and self discovery I've done over the years...it feels like I'm finally being rewarded. Except that's not quite it, I say. It's not a reward, it's what I deserve. She agrees. I tell her I feel like someone finally sees me. For the first time in my life, someone sees ALL of me. I've had cosmic relationships with empathic understanding before, but this has got a depth to it that I've never even dreamed of. I feel like finally someone sees me, ALL of me. And that not only does he see all of me, but he LIKES all of me.
It makes me think back to a dream I blogged in the last few months about seeing these pictures a guy had taken of me, where I looked happy and carefree and joyous, and that that is how I feel now. My shrink tells me, "Well, you do have clairvoyant tendencies. It's not unlikely." I smile and say, "Yah."
Also, I find it no small coincidence that last week we did the tapping exercise, where I discovered the reason I've been attracted to alcoholics and taking care of them. So I acknowledge and release that and BAM the next day I'm talking to this guy and ready to meet him? I tell her, "It's like the universe was watching that and said FINALLY and threw him into my lap the second the path was clear for him." She agrees.
Before I leave, I ask her, "Can I be happy now? I need to know."
She hug me and says yes.
Ok. I just wanted to know.
~sigh~
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Wednesday, May 19, 2004
Saturday, May 15, 2004
Now that I feel like I'm OVER the X, for the most part (there are sad moments, but they are blessedly fleeting), I finally felt brave enough to reread the archives of Jaunuary and February- the worst of the break up hell. I haven't read them since I wrote them, I was so miserable then I didn't even want to write them , much less reread them.
But I finally sat down and read them, and it was sad. Not sad in the sense of a loss, no, it was sad in the sense of watching someone (in this case, myself) slowly come to terms with reality, in an agonizingly slow painful way.
Even at the time, I felt like I should be "getting over it" faster, and I was really annoyed by the process. Well, this morning I'm rereading one of my old psych books and I come across this:
THE EFFECTS OF SEVERE STRESS The lowering of adaptive efficiency
On a psychological level, the perception of threat leads to an increasingly narrow perceptual field and rigid cognitive processes. It thus becomes difficult or impossible for the person to see the situation objectively or to percieve the alternatives actually available.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, that pretty well summed it up. And it makes me feel a little better, to know that being struck stupid with confusion is actually normal.
But I finally sat down and read them, and it was sad. Not sad in the sense of a loss, no, it was sad in the sense of watching someone (in this case, myself) slowly come to terms with reality, in an agonizingly slow painful way.
Even at the time, I felt like I should be "getting over it" faster, and I was really annoyed by the process. Well, this morning I'm rereading one of my old psych books and I come across this:
THE EFFECTS OF SEVERE STRESS The lowering of adaptive efficiency
On a psychological level, the perception of threat leads to an increasingly narrow perceptual field and rigid cognitive processes. It thus becomes difficult or impossible for the person to see the situation objectively or to percieve the alternatives actually available.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Well, that pretty well summed it up. And it makes me feel a little better, to know that being struck stupid with confusion is actually normal.
Friday, May 14, 2004
~DEEP BREATH~
I had an amazing session with my shrink the other day.
We've been trying to nail down where my anxiety comes from, and also fix the problem that I've been attracted to alcoholic jerks forever. These are my two objectives in therapy: learn how to deal with stress more effectively, and learn how to be in healthy relationships.
Ok.
So. My shrink has been trying to talk me into a form of therapy I've never heard of, called tapping. You basically define the problem, then start tapping different meridians while repeating positive affirmations.
Goofy, but ok.
So, we're trying to figure out what the problem is exactly, so I can create the affirmation. She asks me name the problem, and I say, "......it feels like helplessness...like I'm helpless to do anything about anything, I can't affect the outcome..." Ok. She asks me to think back, to close my eyes and slowly allow myself to float back to the first time I can remember feeling that way. Well, she and I were originally thinking it had to do with being raped. Instead, I am dumbfounded to drift back to the memory of my dad laying in bed....it's a beautiful summer day....and he's bedridden from all the Valium the doctors have prescribed to help him deal with his alcoholism (brilliant!!!). He's got all the curtains pulled so the room is very dark, and it's kind of creepy to me. I am maybe 5 years old. I go in and tell him I am going over to my friend Sherry's house to play and he tells me, "Today is the day I'm going to die." And I just look at him, like, "Ummmm.....ooooookay." I'm not quite sure what death IS but I know I am not qualified to help in any way. So I say, "Ok, I'm going to Sherry's house now, " and leave. I remember telling Sherry's mom when I got there and she just looked at me with the deepest expression of pity, which I didn't understand but I have always remembered the look on her face.
I snap my eyes open and stare at my shrink. We both have the same expression of "Holy shit!" and "Bingo!" and I start rambling on, "That would explain my attraction to alcoholic men! No wonder I want to take care of them! No wonder I have always wanted to take care of my dad! I still do!" and my shrink tells me to be quiet for now and quit thinking so much for the moment, that it's time to do the tapping part.
Well, tapping shmapping, I am so freaking blown away by this realization I can barely contain myself. I leave that day just high. Totally high.
Where does this lead me now?
TUNE IN AND FIND OUT!
(laughing)
I had an amazing session with my shrink the other day.
We've been trying to nail down where my anxiety comes from, and also fix the problem that I've been attracted to alcoholic jerks forever. These are my two objectives in therapy: learn how to deal with stress more effectively, and learn how to be in healthy relationships.
Ok.
So. My shrink has been trying to talk me into a form of therapy I've never heard of, called tapping. You basically define the problem, then start tapping different meridians while repeating positive affirmations.
Goofy, but ok.
So, we're trying to figure out what the problem is exactly, so I can create the affirmation. She asks me name the problem, and I say, "......it feels like helplessness...like I'm helpless to do anything about anything, I can't affect the outcome..." Ok. She asks me to think back, to close my eyes and slowly allow myself to float back to the first time I can remember feeling that way. Well, she and I were originally thinking it had to do with being raped. Instead, I am dumbfounded to drift back to the memory of my dad laying in bed....it's a beautiful summer day....and he's bedridden from all the Valium the doctors have prescribed to help him deal with his alcoholism (brilliant!!!). He's got all the curtains pulled so the room is very dark, and it's kind of creepy to me. I am maybe 5 years old. I go in and tell him I am going over to my friend Sherry's house to play and he tells me, "Today is the day I'm going to die." And I just look at him, like, "Ummmm.....ooooookay." I'm not quite sure what death IS but I know I am not qualified to help in any way. So I say, "Ok, I'm going to Sherry's house now, " and leave. I remember telling Sherry's mom when I got there and she just looked at me with the deepest expression of pity, which I didn't understand but I have always remembered the look on her face.
I snap my eyes open and stare at my shrink. We both have the same expression of "Holy shit!" and "Bingo!" and I start rambling on, "That would explain my attraction to alcoholic men! No wonder I want to take care of them! No wonder I have always wanted to take care of my dad! I still do!" and my shrink tells me to be quiet for now and quit thinking so much for the moment, that it's time to do the tapping part.
Well, tapping shmapping, I am so freaking blown away by this realization I can barely contain myself. I leave that day just high. Totally high.
Where does this lead me now?
TUNE IN AND FIND OUT!
(laughing)
What in the bloody hell...
What's with me and the freaky nightmares lately?
Here's the one I just woke up from:
I'm in my Moms house. It's maybe 4 in the morning? At any rate, I hear all these dogs barking and look outside to see what's up. I see maybe 30 sheep herding dogs doing what they do best, herding sheep. Followed close behind by 5 or 6 hunters. So the dogs manage to narrow down the sheep to three or four and the dogs close in, circling them so tightly the sheep can't get out. The hunters then close in and begin shooting the bloody hell out of these sheep. I flip the &*^* out and run outside and scream, "HEY!! What the hell are you DOING???" This is a neighborhood! Not the freakin wilderness. Besides the whole It's-Just-Psycho factor. And the hunters start walking calmly towards me, to talk, I wrongly assume. And the one guy gets up close and points his rifle at my chest at which point I decide talking may not be the best option currently available and run back inside. The hunters drive off, leaving behind a large pond of blood. There is also blood all over my porch, all over the yards, everywhere. I hear a bunch of large trucks pull up into OUR driveway, then peel off, across the yard, ripping the lawn apart. I call the police to prove to myself that this can't possibly be legal but can't ever get through. I am totally afraid, and want to move. I think they'll come back for me.
I wake up and I'm glad I don't live with my mom, first. Second I realize it's really a dream.
I gotta get ready for work.
WTF was that?
What's with me and the freaky nightmares lately?
Here's the one I just woke up from:
I'm in my Moms house. It's maybe 4 in the morning? At any rate, I hear all these dogs barking and look outside to see what's up. I see maybe 30 sheep herding dogs doing what they do best, herding sheep. Followed close behind by 5 or 6 hunters. So the dogs manage to narrow down the sheep to three or four and the dogs close in, circling them so tightly the sheep can't get out. The hunters then close in and begin shooting the bloody hell out of these sheep. I flip the &*^* out and run outside and scream, "HEY!! What the hell are you DOING???" This is a neighborhood! Not the freakin wilderness. Besides the whole It's-Just-Psycho factor. And the hunters start walking calmly towards me, to talk, I wrongly assume. And the one guy gets up close and points his rifle at my chest at which point I decide talking may not be the best option currently available and run back inside. The hunters drive off, leaving behind a large pond of blood. There is also blood all over my porch, all over the yards, everywhere. I hear a bunch of large trucks pull up into OUR driveway, then peel off, across the yard, ripping the lawn apart. I call the police to prove to myself that this can't possibly be legal but can't ever get through. I am totally afraid, and want to move. I think they'll come back for me.
I wake up and I'm glad I don't live with my mom, first. Second I realize it's really a dream.
I gotta get ready for work.
WTF was that?
Thursday, May 13, 2004
Another strange dream...I'm sure there were plenty but the one that sticks out was this:
I had gone into the women's bathroom and I hear someone rustling around in one of the back stalls. Before I can move more than a few feet in the door a man comes bursting out, dressed in some bizarre silver outfit. Almost like a suit of armor but not quite. He comes running toward me, and I SHRINK into the corner, just slide down the wall in total and complete debilitating fear. I can't fight, can't even MOVE. I am totally paralyzed by fear. The man himself looks at me totally freaked out, and runs out the door.
I wake up, very upset that I froze in my dream. Would I do that in real life? What kind of wuss am I?
Several reasons for this dream occur to me, but none so poignant as the fact that this is the exact issue my shrink and I were talking about today. But I had the dream last night. It's an issue we've been discussing, more about that later.
I had gone into the women's bathroom and I hear someone rustling around in one of the back stalls. Before I can move more than a few feet in the door a man comes bursting out, dressed in some bizarre silver outfit. Almost like a suit of armor but not quite. He comes running toward me, and I SHRINK into the corner, just slide down the wall in total and complete debilitating fear. I can't fight, can't even MOVE. I am totally paralyzed by fear. The man himself looks at me totally freaked out, and runs out the door.
I wake up, very upset that I froze in my dream. Would I do that in real life? What kind of wuss am I?
Several reasons for this dream occur to me, but none so poignant as the fact that this is the exact issue my shrink and I were talking about today. But I had the dream last night. It's an issue we've been discussing, more about that later.
Monday, May 10, 2004
Had a strange dream this morning and decided to just get up an hour earlier. The last things I remember were a ghost girl reading something I was straining to hear, which someone else told me was The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe, then watching some guy get run over by another guy on a monster four wheeler (think monster truck in 4 wheeler terms) and watching the run over guy staggering around with blood shooting out the top of his head.
Then I woke up and decided another hour of THAT kind of sleep was really not worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I spent most of Mothers Day cleaning my house. After moving I still had those last few boxes to go through. Some of it was worthwhile, some was just crap-in-a-box. I've kind of dreaded these last few boxes, because they were the Rage Boxes. The ones I packed while the X hovered over me and I yelled at him, just losing my mind and stuffing everything into a box, screw order, screw planning, screw organizing any of it, just cram shit into boxes and escape the madness. NOW.
They weren't as bad to unpack as I thought, but I think that was more due to the passing of time.
I am finally feeling like I'm regaining my equilibrium. I won't say I'm there yet, but I'm getting there. It's odd, I was sitting here trying to think of how to describe that feeling and what I came up with was this:
I'm redrawing the lines of where he stops and I start. The lines always existed, but I'd smeared them to such an extent...how do I get so wrapped up in people? How do I lose so much of myself (and with it, my sanity) when in a relationship? I think I need to know WHY I do it so I can STOP doing it. And oh, it's the substance abuse. The relationships I've had with NORMAL people never warp like that. They just never go anywhere. And why is that? I'm guessing I haven't been interested; they weren't filling my bizarre need to take care of them.
(deep sigh)
Oh, people...it is time to take care of myself.
Hmmmmm....my shrink and I have been discussing my anxiety. She says perhaps I'm stuck at 13, in some sort of emotional way. Ok. Makes sense to me. What I realized was I feel like I'm not taking very good care of me. During the rape itself I didn't fight back enough, and I've always regretted it, and berated myself for that. Since that time, I've had what seems like an endless stream of experiences where that same theme has played over and over again, where I was uncomfortable and didn't do anything about it, for fear of either embarrassing myself, or hurting someone else, or whatever. My life has been a long string of being in situations I didn't want to be in, but have been too paralyzed at the time to do much about.
That's not taking very good care of me, now is it?
So, on a hunch, I decided every time I feel overwhelmed and anxious, I've been repeating to myself, "It's ok, I can take care of me." Goofy, yes, but by God, it WORKS! Whooda thunk?
All these years, I think I've been taking care of other people to prove I could do it! Some women want a man to take care of them, I went the opposite direction. Instead of proving I could take care of myself, I wanted to prove I could take care of someone else...but it always backfired. Who was taking care of me? Ah HA.....
food for thought.
Then I woke up and decided another hour of THAT kind of sleep was really not worth it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
I spent most of Mothers Day cleaning my house. After moving I still had those last few boxes to go through. Some of it was worthwhile, some was just crap-in-a-box. I've kind of dreaded these last few boxes, because they were the Rage Boxes. The ones I packed while the X hovered over me and I yelled at him, just losing my mind and stuffing everything into a box, screw order, screw planning, screw organizing any of it, just cram shit into boxes and escape the madness. NOW.
They weren't as bad to unpack as I thought, but I think that was more due to the passing of time.
I am finally feeling like I'm regaining my equilibrium. I won't say I'm there yet, but I'm getting there. It's odd, I was sitting here trying to think of how to describe that feeling and what I came up with was this:
I'm redrawing the lines of where he stops and I start. The lines always existed, but I'd smeared them to such an extent...how do I get so wrapped up in people? How do I lose so much of myself (and with it, my sanity) when in a relationship? I think I need to know WHY I do it so I can STOP doing it. And oh, it's the substance abuse. The relationships I've had with NORMAL people never warp like that. They just never go anywhere. And why is that? I'm guessing I haven't been interested; they weren't filling my bizarre need to take care of them.
(deep sigh)
Oh, people...it is time to take care of myself.
Hmmmmm....my shrink and I have been discussing my anxiety. She says perhaps I'm stuck at 13, in some sort of emotional way. Ok. Makes sense to me. What I realized was I feel like I'm not taking very good care of me. During the rape itself I didn't fight back enough, and I've always regretted it, and berated myself for that. Since that time, I've had what seems like an endless stream of experiences where that same theme has played over and over again, where I was uncomfortable and didn't do anything about it, for fear of either embarrassing myself, or hurting someone else, or whatever. My life has been a long string of being in situations I didn't want to be in, but have been too paralyzed at the time to do much about.
That's not taking very good care of me, now is it?
So, on a hunch, I decided every time I feel overwhelmed and anxious, I've been repeating to myself, "It's ok, I can take care of me." Goofy, yes, but by God, it WORKS! Whooda thunk?
All these years, I think I've been taking care of other people to prove I could do it! Some women want a man to take care of them, I went the opposite direction. Instead of proving I could take care of myself, I wanted to prove I could take care of someone else...but it always backfired. Who was taking care of me? Ah HA.....
food for thought.
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Friday, May 07, 2004
Went to my shrink today. So much to blog about, so little brain power to do it with right now.
It's weird, it seems like I go through mental phases. Sometimes I can whip through issues and problems and quandaries at the speed of light, and other times my brain feels like a wasteland, complete with tumbleweeds.
Lately, it's been the speed of light. Which was sweet, cause my shrink was madly scribbling trying to keep up with me today and that was pretty cool. At the end of the hour she said, "Wow. I'm glad you've been able to figure so many things out!" and I had to resist my own urge to jump up and yell, "WHOOHOO!!!" at the top of my lungs. I did do the little , "Go me, it's my birthday" dance, and she laughed.
One of the big things we talked about was my rape issues. I didn't think I still had rape issues, seeing as how that was 16 years ago. But we've discussed how my anxiety started way back then, so apparently there is something there I am still not congruent with.
So we start talking about it. I tell her I have always felt bad because I didn't fight him off of me. Mmmmm...passive resistance would be the way I could describe it. But looking back, I always thought, why didn't I punch him? Why didn't I just freak out on him?
Well, it's because there were other people there, downstairs, at the time. And being 13 years old, I didn't want to embarrass myself that way. Yes, I would rather unwillingly have sex than be humiliated in front of a group of my peers.
My shrink looked at me.
She said, "That makes me so sad. And that totally makes sense. Thirteen is the age where kids want nothing more than to fit in, to be accepted, to be considered normal. Your response doesn't surprise me."
I was speechless.
All these years I've berated myself for not doing MORE, for not FIGHTING him, for not freaking out and going balls out psycho on his ass...
so.....I can quit blaming myself now?
(long thoughtful silence)
She and I talked about how I feel like I've let myself down, in that instance and in many many others. How this is a common theme in my life. How I'm still pissed off about the X and his skank. But I've done so heavy thinking about it this past week, I tell her, and I've come up with a realization. I'm not mad at them for fucking each other. I'm not mad at them for acting like asshole alcoholics. No. I'm mad a MYSELF for trusting them to not do that to me. I'm mad at myself for believing they wouldn't POSSIBLY do that to ME.
I'm mad at myself.
(more thoughtful silence)
I'm mad at myself for not taking better care of me. I'm mad at myself for trusting people when they clearly cannot be trusted. I'm mad at me for repeatedly getting involved with high maintenance alcoholic men. I'm mad at my lack of foresight, I'm mad at my inability to learn from hindsight, I'm so freaking mad at me.
Now?
I'm not afraid of men. I'm afraid of my inability to judge them accurately, my inability to retain my equilibrium while in a relationship. Of course, should I be in a relationship with someone who ISN'T a fucked up alcoholic mess, well, that would be a whole new playing field. Perhaps I wouldn't be knocked off kilter if the other person wasn't a walking pile of chaos.
There's a thought, eh?
So now my shrink and I are faced with the task of teaching me how to trust myself. And to do that, I need to learn how to take better care of me. To do that, I need to learn how to tell people no, how to change my mind whenever I damn well feel like. It's a problem for me. I feel like once I'm committed to a course of action, that's it. I will see it through, even if it fucking kills me.
Yah, integrity is great and all, but this is suicide.
I'm going to have to figure this one out.
It's weird, it seems like I go through mental phases. Sometimes I can whip through issues and problems and quandaries at the speed of light, and other times my brain feels like a wasteland, complete with tumbleweeds.
Lately, it's been the speed of light. Which was sweet, cause my shrink was madly scribbling trying to keep up with me today and that was pretty cool. At the end of the hour she said, "Wow. I'm glad you've been able to figure so many things out!" and I had to resist my own urge to jump up and yell, "WHOOHOO!!!" at the top of my lungs. I did do the little , "Go me, it's my birthday" dance, and she laughed.
One of the big things we talked about was my rape issues. I didn't think I still had rape issues, seeing as how that was 16 years ago. But we've discussed how my anxiety started way back then, so apparently there is something there I am still not congruent with.
So we start talking about it. I tell her I have always felt bad because I didn't fight him off of me. Mmmmm...passive resistance would be the way I could describe it. But looking back, I always thought, why didn't I punch him? Why didn't I just freak out on him?
Well, it's because there were other people there, downstairs, at the time. And being 13 years old, I didn't want to embarrass myself that way. Yes, I would rather unwillingly have sex than be humiliated in front of a group of my peers.
My shrink looked at me.
She said, "That makes me so sad. And that totally makes sense. Thirteen is the age where kids want nothing more than to fit in, to be accepted, to be considered normal. Your response doesn't surprise me."
I was speechless.
All these years I've berated myself for not doing MORE, for not FIGHTING him, for not freaking out and going balls out psycho on his ass...
so.....I can quit blaming myself now?
(long thoughtful silence)
She and I talked about how I feel like I've let myself down, in that instance and in many many others. How this is a common theme in my life. How I'm still pissed off about the X and his skank. But I've done so heavy thinking about it this past week, I tell her, and I've come up with a realization. I'm not mad at them for fucking each other. I'm not mad at them for acting like asshole alcoholics. No. I'm mad a MYSELF for trusting them to not do that to me. I'm mad at myself for believing they wouldn't POSSIBLY do that to ME.
I'm mad at myself.
(more thoughtful silence)
I'm mad at myself for not taking better care of me. I'm mad at myself for trusting people when they clearly cannot be trusted. I'm mad at me for repeatedly getting involved with high maintenance alcoholic men. I'm mad at my lack of foresight, I'm mad at my inability to learn from hindsight, I'm so freaking mad at me.
Now?
I'm not afraid of men. I'm afraid of my inability to judge them accurately, my inability to retain my equilibrium while in a relationship. Of course, should I be in a relationship with someone who ISN'T a fucked up alcoholic mess, well, that would be a whole new playing field. Perhaps I wouldn't be knocked off kilter if the other person wasn't a walking pile of chaos.
There's a thought, eh?
So now my shrink and I are faced with the task of teaching me how to trust myself. And to do that, I need to learn how to take better care of me. To do that, I need to learn how to tell people no, how to change my mind whenever I damn well feel like. It's a problem for me. I feel like once I'm committed to a course of action, that's it. I will see it through, even if it fucking kills me.
Yah, integrity is great and all, but this is suicide.
I'm going to have to figure this one out.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
ANYWHO-
saw an interesting bumper sticker yesterday.
It said, "I have a dream" and had a picture of the capitol house with a Confederate flag on the top.
I sincerely doubt words could ever possibly convey the expression on my face.
Again, let me reiterate from past blogs:
I beleive confederate flags are warning systems in place to warn the rest of us:
WARNING! DUMBASS! WARNING!
DANGER WILL ROBINSON!
saw an interesting bumper sticker yesterday.
It said, "I have a dream" and had a picture of the capitol house with a Confederate flag on the top.
I sincerely doubt words could ever possibly convey the expression on my face.
Again, let me reiterate from past blogs:
I beleive confederate flags are warning systems in place to warn the rest of us:
WARNING! DUMBASS! WARNING!
DANGER WILL ROBINSON!
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
I've felt completely asexual for the last 3 weeks. Well, mostly. It's weird. I was thinking maybe it was the Paxil till one day I realized I was kind of turned on but that freaked me out. Seriously- I haven't even masturbated for at least 3 weeks. TMI? Too bad. Anyway, that's what got me to thinking about it. I realized one day I was kinda in the mood to, but was frightened to. Frightened? What the hell is that? Coming from a nympho, that is totally bizarre.
So I've been giving it a lot of thought. I think my sex drive has led me down paths I should not have traveled, or at least would have best not traveled. The last few weeks I have been slowly coming to terms with the break up, and being single in general. If I have no sex drive, I have no real need for men. Sorry guys! At least in the short term. (Oh stop pouting.) This is not about love, this is about sex. The first few months after the breakup were the worst. I kept thinking, How am I going to get laid? What will I do without sex? How can I maintain sanity? It's not that I couldn't get any, mind you, it's that I don't like sex without love. It just feels gross. Everyone's different. Anyway, once I suppressed my sex drive I felt much better, far more content. It was a big part of me going on Paxil. I know it kills my sex drive, and I was thinking that could come in REAL handy right now.
Well, it's worked. I have some perspective. But I also don't feel like myself. All I want to do is sit around and eat and watch TV and sleep. One could say this is depression. One could also say this is denial. One could even say this is the consequences of trying to disconnect ones lowest chakra.
Hmmm.
I must say, it's been a really long time since I've felt afraid of my own sex drive. I am also wondering if perhaps I am hitting on some rape issues here. My shrink and I have been working on tracing where my anxiety comes from, and traced it back to that. We haven't gotten to talk about it yet (we ran out of time, ugh).
I love therapy. I would recommend it to anyone. Even though I don't have any huge answers yet, I feel I am getting somewhere. I've hit a few walls and run up on a few major issues I never knew were still lurking, causing panic and chaos in my subconscious.
More soon.
So I've been giving it a lot of thought. I think my sex drive has led me down paths I should not have traveled, or at least would have best not traveled. The last few weeks I have been slowly coming to terms with the break up, and being single in general. If I have no sex drive, I have no real need for men. Sorry guys! At least in the short term. (Oh stop pouting.) This is not about love, this is about sex. The first few months after the breakup were the worst. I kept thinking, How am I going to get laid? What will I do without sex? How can I maintain sanity? It's not that I couldn't get any, mind you, it's that I don't like sex without love. It just feels gross. Everyone's different. Anyway, once I suppressed my sex drive I felt much better, far more content. It was a big part of me going on Paxil. I know it kills my sex drive, and I was thinking that could come in REAL handy right now.
Well, it's worked. I have some perspective. But I also don't feel like myself. All I want to do is sit around and eat and watch TV and sleep. One could say this is depression. One could also say this is denial. One could even say this is the consequences of trying to disconnect ones lowest chakra.
Hmmm.
I must say, it's been a really long time since I've felt afraid of my own sex drive. I am also wondering if perhaps I am hitting on some rape issues here. My shrink and I have been working on tracing where my anxiety comes from, and traced it back to that. We haven't gotten to talk about it yet (we ran out of time, ugh).
I love therapy. I would recommend it to anyone. Even though I don't have any huge answers yet, I feel I am getting somewhere. I've hit a few walls and run up on a few major issues I never knew were still lurking, causing panic and chaos in my subconscious.
More soon.
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