I remember all the faults that the relationship between Jack and I had. I remember them clearly and they are a good portion of my blog posts from Fall/Winter 2015. And I don't miss the dynamic of being made to feel like I was an obstacle because I existed.
But I miss our friendship. We had fun together when things were good.
These guys lately....they don't make me laugh. One is smart, very very smart but less funny. One is smart and funny, but moving away, and his politics are problematic. One is smart and funny but lives across the country, he wanted to come visit but I'm just not that into him. And the rest are dumb diversions.
I'm always surprised with how much shit I can get away with. I'm not a ton of fun. Frankly, I'm suicidal. I spent last Thursday on the phone with a crisis line. But they still ask me out for dates. Not even hook ups, but actual "Can I take you to dinner?" dates.
It's absurd.
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
So
I had a list of things I wanted to write about. I've been up to shenanigans. John has thrown like 8 curveballs this month.
But all I can think about is how much I don't want to exist anymore.
I have my THIRD sleep study later this week. Weeks ago I had to come off Prozac for this sleep study.
And I wish I was dead.
I'm not a good mom. I'm not a good employee. I can't maintain relationships, friendly or romantic. I feel helpless and hopeless. I don't want this life anymore.
The next person to tell me that things will get better, they'll get better when I can take Prozac again this weekend.
But no. That's not the case at all.
I've reached out.
I've taken the meds.
I've seen therapists.
I struggle and try. And I have. Every Goddamn Day. since I was 16.
I'm so tired.
I get up and show up. I graduated from college. I got two degrees. I've held a job with the same firm for 7 years. I've raised a child.
Don't you dare tell me that I need to hold on.
I have been exhausted and miserable for YEARS.
Motherfucking YEARS.
I don't want to do this anymore.
Yes, sure. My brain is a dick and telling me these things.
But guess what?
It always has and it always will.
My brain chemistry is wrong.
I'm put together wrong.
I'm not supposed to be.
But all I can think about is how much I don't want to exist anymore.
I have my THIRD sleep study later this week. Weeks ago I had to come off Prozac for this sleep study.
And I wish I was dead.
I'm not a good mom. I'm not a good employee. I can't maintain relationships, friendly or romantic. I feel helpless and hopeless. I don't want this life anymore.
The next person to tell me that things will get better, they'll get better when I can take Prozac again this weekend.
But no. That's not the case at all.
I've reached out.
I've taken the meds.
I've seen therapists.
I struggle and try. And I have. Every Goddamn Day. since I was 16.
I'm so tired.
I get up and show up. I graduated from college. I got two degrees. I've held a job with the same firm for 7 years. I've raised a child.
Don't you dare tell me that I need to hold on.
I have been exhausted and miserable for YEARS.
Motherfucking YEARS.
I don't want to do this anymore.
Yes, sure. My brain is a dick and telling me these things.
But guess what?
It always has and it always will.
My brain chemistry is wrong.
I'm put together wrong.
I'm not supposed to be.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
Sammy
Sammy and I agreed we just want to have fun together. We meet on a week night and have dinner. We have a ton in common. His sister dropped out of the same college I dropped out of, we cheer for opposing teams but are similarly obsessed with sports, he seems nervous but nice.
We have dinner and then walk to another bar. We have a second drink. We go to my house and have a third drink. We get naked and I spend an hour lavishing attention on the most perfect cock and rock hard body I've ever been with. He is effusive with praise. Sammy calls me a slut, intending it to be part of dirty talk. Tears quietly flow but I keep going. He apologises, "I didn't mean it like that," "You aren't that word," "I'll never say that again." and on and on.
I know he's genuine. He couldn't have known that would have such an impact on me. I didn't know it would have such an impact on me.
We carry on. We finish. He apologizes more. I tell him its fine and I'd rather let the matter drop. When he leaves, Sammy kisses me on the cheek.
The next day we text filthy things to each other from work and Sammy tells me he craves my touch. He picks me up from work and we go to my house, to my shower, to my bed. He pushes my limits, makes requests of me. Some I agree to, some I don't. He doesn't press when I resist.
He wants to take pictures. You know, pictures. I agree but tell him, the pictures are taken with my phone so I control access to them and the pictures do not include my face. He eagerly agrees. He finishes and we watch a game before he leaves. I have work to do.
That night, he texts me asking for the pictures. I'm equal parts nervous and opportunistic. Our two encounters have been very...Sammy oriented. I tell him that tomorrow, its my turn, and if he's a good boy, the photos are his. Sammy thinks eagerly agrees.
Hours later, he's asking again. I remind him of the deal. Sammy insists. I demur. He pleads. I say no. He badgers. I tell him he's acting like a child. He tells me I'm playing games like his awful ex.
Wow.
I tell Sammy I'm uncomfortable. I'm not ready. I don't want to do this and want to delete them all anyway. He tells me he'll take care of me the next day. I tell him I don't want it.
The texts cease. I work myself into an anxious state. And argue with myself
"Now he'll never like me."
You should lose his number
"But he's so hot."
But he's pushy and mean and isn't' taking no for an answer.
"He did warn you he's a very sexual person."
I go back and forth. I send Sammy one picture. He tells me I'm a good girl.
I tell him I feel disgusting. He tells me "I won't share these with anyone else. If you are afraid of me judging you, I'm not."
But his judgment doesn't mean anything. Its not about fitting into the role he wants. Its about me being able to live with the choices I make.
We have dinner and then walk to another bar. We have a second drink. We go to my house and have a third drink. We get naked and I spend an hour lavishing attention on the most perfect cock and rock hard body I've ever been with. He is effusive with praise. Sammy calls me a slut, intending it to be part of dirty talk. Tears quietly flow but I keep going. He apologises, "I didn't mean it like that," "You aren't that word," "I'll never say that again." and on and on.
I know he's genuine. He couldn't have known that would have such an impact on me. I didn't know it would have such an impact on me.
We carry on. We finish. He apologizes more. I tell him its fine and I'd rather let the matter drop. When he leaves, Sammy kisses me on the cheek.
The next day we text filthy things to each other from work and Sammy tells me he craves my touch. He picks me up from work and we go to my house, to my shower, to my bed. He pushes my limits, makes requests of me. Some I agree to, some I don't. He doesn't press when I resist.
He wants to take pictures. You know, pictures. I agree but tell him, the pictures are taken with my phone so I control access to them and the pictures do not include my face. He eagerly agrees. He finishes and we watch a game before he leaves. I have work to do.
That night, he texts me asking for the pictures. I'm equal parts nervous and opportunistic. Our two encounters have been very...Sammy oriented. I tell him that tomorrow, its my turn, and if he's a good boy, the photos are his. Sammy thinks eagerly agrees.
Hours later, he's asking again. I remind him of the deal. Sammy insists. I demur. He pleads. I say no. He badgers. I tell him he's acting like a child. He tells me I'm playing games like his awful ex.
Wow.
I tell Sammy I'm uncomfortable. I'm not ready. I don't want to do this and want to delete them all anyway. He tells me he'll take care of me the next day. I tell him I don't want it.
The texts cease. I work myself into an anxious state. And argue with myself
"Now he'll never like me."
You should lose his number
"But he's so hot."
But he's pushy and mean and isn't' taking no for an answer.
"He did warn you he's a very sexual person."
I go back and forth. I send Sammy one picture. He tells me I'm a good girl.
I tell him I feel disgusting. He tells me "I won't share these with anyone else. If you are afraid of me judging you, I'm not."
But his judgment doesn't mean anything. Its not about fitting into the role he wants. Its about me being able to live with the choices I make.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
Bye Brandon
This isn't working.
You don't tell someone you're in love with them after a month. It puts pressure on me to feel the same. And here I am, 3 months later, not in love, not falling in love, and sort of falling out of like.
I'm tired of being condescended to.
I'm tired of you over explaining unfunny jokes, and thereby making the joke even worse.
I'm tired of the way your beard gets in the way, of your complaints about your weight but inaction to change the situation, tired of trying to work around your...erm, shortcomings.
I regret giving you a key.
I regret coming to dinner with your family.
I regret letting you meet my family.
I don't know why I thought I could overlook so much. Like the way you wear basketball shorts everywhere, dates included.
That you spent 2 months on unemployment not looking for a job because you needed "a break."
That you lost the job you had when we met because you got drunk at a work event and put your arm around female coworkers and made them feel uncomfortable.
That you don't read, or follow the news, or politics, or anything that isn't prominently featured on FaceBook.
That you are such a picky eater that we could only go out for pizza or burgers.
You know how I know you're not in love with me? Because you're in love with the idea of me. Don't presume to tell me what makes me happy or doesn't.
***
So he came over. I told him it wasn't working. He pushed and pushed for me to tell him why. I finally told him I was tired of being condescended to and not feeling heard.
"Do you think that's just in how you're interpreting and hearing things though?"
So weird that I don't want to be in this relationship where I'm always wrong and you're always right.
"Are all your relationships this difficult?"
Pretty much. I'm stubborn, I'm fiery, at my own peril- I find it hard to shut up.
But I'm also funny, loving, kind, caring, and thoughtful.
And also not in love with you and not showing you my best self.
"I know you make rash, impulsive decisions. Is this what you really want?"
What a CONDESCENDING thing to say.
"Can we work on things?"
No.
"So this is it?"
Yes. I'm not going to string you along and tell you maybe things will be different in a month.
***
The other day, a man on the street told me to smile. I hate being told to smile. I think most women do. Please don't tell me what to do with my face. I don't walk around with a permanent grin because I'm not deranged.
But I smile because it was an instant reaction. My facial muscles betrayed my brain and my feminist sensibilities. Its also the easiest answer. Just smile so the strange man will leave you alone, leave you unharmed.
Later, as I recount the experience to Brandon, telling him how uncomfortable the experience was, he says, "Yeah, one time this hippy chick told me, 'You dropped your smile' to get me to smile."
This is not the same. This is not the same. This is not the same.
I tried to explain the power dynamic, the patriarchy bullshit, the inherent unease. Brandon is 6'4, built like a linebacker and has often worked security at bars and restaurants. I understand he probably hasn't felt unsafe walking down the street. But the part that pissed me off was his unwillingness to listen to me. What does it hurt to listen?
***
After 45 minutes of bullshit, he left. And I laid on the couch for about an hour, playing on my phone. And then I got up and got back to work because I have shit to do.
I woke up the next day feeling lighter and freer than I have in a long time.
I don't have any dating apps on my phone.
I don't have a stable of guys I'm talking to.
I have my job, my business, my son, my trips, my pets, my friends, my weekends and evenings all my own.
I can spend my time however I want. I answer to no one.
And won't have anyone mansplaining jokes to me anymore.
You don't tell someone you're in love with them after a month. It puts pressure on me to feel the same. And here I am, 3 months later, not in love, not falling in love, and sort of falling out of like.
I'm tired of being condescended to.
I'm tired of you over explaining unfunny jokes, and thereby making the joke even worse.
I'm tired of the way your beard gets in the way, of your complaints about your weight but inaction to change the situation, tired of trying to work around your...erm, shortcomings.
I regret giving you a key.
I regret coming to dinner with your family.
I regret letting you meet my family.
I don't know why I thought I could overlook so much. Like the way you wear basketball shorts everywhere, dates included.
That you spent 2 months on unemployment not looking for a job because you needed "a break."
That you lost the job you had when we met because you got drunk at a work event and put your arm around female coworkers and made them feel uncomfortable.
That you don't read, or follow the news, or politics, or anything that isn't prominently featured on FaceBook.
That you are such a picky eater that we could only go out for pizza or burgers.
You know how I know you're not in love with me? Because you're in love with the idea of me. Don't presume to tell me what makes me happy or doesn't.
***
So he came over. I told him it wasn't working. He pushed and pushed for me to tell him why. I finally told him I was tired of being condescended to and not feeling heard.
"Do you think that's just in how you're interpreting and hearing things though?"
So weird that I don't want to be in this relationship where I'm always wrong and you're always right.
"Are all your relationships this difficult?"
Pretty much. I'm stubborn, I'm fiery, at my own peril- I find it hard to shut up.
But I'm also funny, loving, kind, caring, and thoughtful.
And also not in love with you and not showing you my best self.
"I know you make rash, impulsive decisions. Is this what you really want?"
What a CONDESCENDING thing to say.
"Can we work on things?"
No.
"So this is it?"
Yes. I'm not going to string you along and tell you maybe things will be different in a month.
***
The other day, a man on the street told me to smile. I hate being told to smile. I think most women do. Please don't tell me what to do with my face. I don't walk around with a permanent grin because I'm not deranged.
But I smile because it was an instant reaction. My facial muscles betrayed my brain and my feminist sensibilities. Its also the easiest answer. Just smile so the strange man will leave you alone, leave you unharmed.
Later, as I recount the experience to Brandon, telling him how uncomfortable the experience was, he says, "Yeah, one time this hippy chick told me, 'You dropped your smile' to get me to smile."
This is not the same. This is not the same. This is not the same.
I tried to explain the power dynamic, the patriarchy bullshit, the inherent unease. Brandon is 6'4, built like a linebacker and has often worked security at bars and restaurants. I understand he probably hasn't felt unsafe walking down the street. But the part that pissed me off was his unwillingness to listen to me. What does it hurt to listen?
***
After 45 minutes of bullshit, he left. And I laid on the couch for about an hour, playing on my phone. And then I got up and got back to work because I have shit to do.
I woke up the next day feeling lighter and freer than I have in a long time.
I don't have any dating apps on my phone.
I don't have a stable of guys I'm talking to.
I have my job, my business, my son, my trips, my pets, my friends, my weekends and evenings all my own.
I can spend my time however I want. I answer to no one.
And won't have anyone mansplaining jokes to me anymore.
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
Ghost
When Jack would talk about his exes, a rare occurrence, he would say,
"but I don't want to speak ill of the dead."
I wonder if I'm dead to him now too.
Or if that was just girls that hurt him.
Did I hurt him?
"but I don't want to speak ill of the dead."
I wonder if I'm dead to him now too.
Or if that was just girls that hurt him.
Did I hurt him?
Friday, April 29, 2016
Brandon 3
What am I doing with this man. Every other day, I'm thinking, "I'm in love, have a key to my home, live me us, love me like this forever." And then on the other days, "The sexual attraction is ....lacking, for fuck's sake stop talking, please get a job or a hobby or fucking something to do besidesfollow me like a puppy."
Its not good. I know I'm making this worse. In a phase where I thought it was love, I introduced Brandon to the kid. And my mom. And had dinner with his mom and brother. And agreed to a trip together next month.
Now I'm obligated to stay for a while.
He has like, 2 flaws. Nothing major. Nothing that should prohibit me from being crazy about this man. But I'm not, most of the time. The idea of starting over exhausts me. I don't want all the damn dating apps. I don't want shit first dates and awkward conversation. I don't want to throw this fish back only to find out there is nothing wrong with him, its what's wrong with me that makes me feel this way.
Its not good. I know I'm making this worse. In a phase where I thought it was love, I introduced Brandon to the kid. And my mom. And had dinner with his mom and brother. And agreed to a trip together next month.
Now I'm obligated to stay for a while.
He has like, 2 flaws. Nothing major. Nothing that should prohibit me from being crazy about this man. But I'm not, most of the time. The idea of starting over exhausts me. I don't want all the damn dating apps. I don't want shit first dates and awkward conversation. I don't want to throw this fish back only to find out there is nothing wrong with him, its what's wrong with me that makes me feel this way.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
Lemonade
Beyonce is getting me through some shit y'all.
I know its not "for me." But I love it, its art, its important, and I love it.
I had my heart fucking broken in January. Crushed. Wrecked. Destroyed. In a way completely different than the other times. In a way that makes me question and wonder and worry. And I'm different. He'll forget me and I'll forget him, but I'm a different person now. Harder, tougher, thicker.
I am the dragon breathing fire
Beautiful mane I'm the lion
Beautiful man I know you're lying
I am not broken, I'm not crying, I'm not crying
You ain't trying hard enough
You ain't loving hard enough
You don't love me deep enough
We not reaching feats enough
Blindly in love, I fucks with you
'Til I realize, I'm just too much for you
I'm just too much for you
-Don't Hurt Yourself
And your heart is broken cause I walked away
Show me your scars and I won't walk away
-Sandcastles
And I've been hustling like a champ this year:
She pushing herself day and night
She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday
Oh, stars in her eyes
She fights and she sweats those sleepless nights
But she don't mind, she loves the grind
-Six Inch Heels
I'ma keep running
Cause a winner don't quit on themselves
-Freedom
But can I get back to a place where I let someone in?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I don't know what I'm doing. I'm almost 30. I'm not ready or excited about it. I don't feel like I'm on track. I don't know what on track would look like anymore.
But if Queen Bey can get back to love, I'll fucking try again.
All I wanna, ain't no other
We together, I remember
Sweet love all night long
-All Night
I know its not "for me." But I love it, its art, its important, and I love it.
I had my heart fucking broken in January. Crushed. Wrecked. Destroyed. In a way completely different than the other times. In a way that makes me question and wonder and worry. And I'm different. He'll forget me and I'll forget him, but I'm a different person now. Harder, tougher, thicker.
I am the dragon breathing fire
Beautiful mane I'm the lion
Beautiful man I know you're lying
I am not broken, I'm not crying, I'm not crying
You ain't trying hard enough
You ain't loving hard enough
You don't love me deep enough
We not reaching feats enough
Blindly in love, I fucks with you
'Til I realize, I'm just too much for you
I'm just too much for you
-Don't Hurt Yourself
And your heart is broken cause I walked away
Show me your scars and I won't walk away
-Sandcastles
And I've been hustling like a champ this year:
She pushing herself day and night
She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday
Oh, stars in her eyes
She fights and she sweats those sleepless nights
But she don't mind, she loves the grind
-Six Inch Heels
I'ma keep running
Cause a winner don't quit on themselves
-Freedom
But can I get back to a place where I let someone in?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I don't know what I'm doing. I'm almost 30. I'm not ready or excited about it. I don't feel like I'm on track. I don't know what on track would look like anymore.
But if Queen Bey can get back to love, I'll fucking try again.
All I wanna, ain't no other
We together, I remember
Sweet love all night long
-All Night
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