Angry Thoughts

NSFW

How is it that I had sex today and I am still in a crabby mood? Why do I have a headache now? I think there are some angry thoughts in my head that I didn’t realize I was thinking and it’s about time I let out those mofos.

First of all, Irish boy, you are a fucking coward. You wouldn’t do anything towards being with me that required you to either get out of bed or get out of your computer chair.

Secondly, Businessman, you are so afraid of commitment that you can’t commit to a one hour block of time for the next day (less than 12 hours away).

Thirdly, Marine and Air Force dudes, just because we had sex twice doesn’t mean I am going to suddenly think we are having a relationship. There’s no need to drop off the face of the planet. I remember reading an article in Cosmo years ago called, “The third date hesitate”. It was talking about how dudes think the third date symbolizes making a commitment and taking the next step in a relationship. Apparently they think that about third time sex, too.

Fourthly, guy I fucked today who shall remain nameless. I had your dick in my mouth today, I think I deserve a little more than a two word email.

I don’t expect a romantic relationship but I expect some common courtesy. Some bit of formality, I guess. Maybe just a touch of politeness?

This is getting old.

I do want a romantic relationship. Not with these dudes. But with someone. I thought finding a fuck buddy in the meantime would be easy peasy and a way to fulfill my sexual desires while I took my time finding Mr. Right. It is instead making me angry. It’s making me a bit bitter towards men and reinforcing this belief I have somewhere in my mind, or that I’ve heard a million times, that they’re all the same. That they want one thing. That when they get that thing from you (two times apparently is the norm) then they want nothing else to do with you. A switch goes off in their brain that says, “Conquered. Move on.” I am just glad that I was not actually dating these guys and thinking that there was the possibility of anything happening. Had I not just been specifically looking for sex and went out on dates and it was dudes just looking to get laid and I gave it up, I’d be crushed.

What I’m annoyed with mostly is the lack of commitment. The only thing we agreed upon was to have sex regularly. That’s it. I wouldn’t have wasted my time and “number” on you if I knew you were going to disappear after two times. I just wanted one dude to fuck on a weekly basis. Then you can send me a two word email or no email, I don’t care. I’m just on edge because I can’t even find a dude to commit to fuck. How in the hell am I supposed to find a boyfriend, or dare I say, a husband?

Yes, looking in the wrong places, etc, I can hear it now. Is it the voices of others I hear or the  voice somewhere deep inside of me and that’s why I’m really angry? 

Being an adult is exhausting

They are filling up the pool in my apartment complex. Yay! Never mind that it just snowed two days ago, I am fricking excited. I love playing in the pool. I didn’t get to play much this last summer because I moved in not long before Labor Day and I worked so much and had class. This summer I want to be different. I want to get my vitamin D from the sun instead of a pill. I want to relax floating in chlorine rather than Epsom salt. I don’t want to work, I want to play.

I have been back to my tired ways lately and I suspected the sleep machine might have something to do with it. I had woken myself up snoring even while wearing the mask. This was new. I tried different sizes of masks, adjusting it different ways, and still daytime fatigue was very much there. I called my sleep dr to ask for a sleep test. I have to see her first, which isn’t until next week. I pressed further asking what I could do in the meantime because it was clear my apnea was not under control. The assistant suggested calling the medical supply company.

Today I call the medical supply company. I finally get hold of a real person who says another real person will call me back. I talk to this person about ten minutes and she finally tells me that according to their records from my machine (data goes in via a modem) everything looks fine. She keeps repeating this and I keep pushing back.  Finally, I ask what the pressure is and she says 12. I said I thought it was supposed to be 11-14 adjusting? She double checks (annoyed) and sees that my prescription says my pressure should be 14. Somehow my machine got set to 12. She quickly apologizes saying she doesn’t know how that happened, but it got changed via the modem. It will be fixed by midnight tonight.

If I wouldn’t have pressed my sleep dr’s assistant for what to do, I wouldn’t have been told to call the medical supply company. If I wouldn’t have pressed the company for my pressure, I wouldn’t have gotten it fixed. I almost didn’t even get to talk to my sleep dr’s assistant because the front desk transferred me to the business office because they had my bill as unpaid. For some reason, they said insurance said I wasn’t covered and blah blah blah, after I INSISTED that I was covered and they finally agreed to double check, they saw that I was and I got the privilege of scheduling an appointment. Mind you, this was talking to various people over two days.

It’s exhausting to type, much less go through day in and day out. That’s why I can’t wait to relax pool side. Preferably with a frozen cocktail in my hand served to me by a hot cabana boy.

But just the pool is fine, too.

Minimization

Therapy depressed me today. The therapist pointed out my use of minimization. I try to make things seem like they're really not that bad. Like being raped at 16 and attacked again at 18 wasn't that big of a deal. That (at least the 16 year old attack) was a blessing in disguise because it changed my personality to be more empathetic and loving. That it kept me out of a volatile relationship.

I thought it was just trying to see the silver lining. Apparently, it's a thing called minimization, where you minimize trauma so that you don't have to deal with it. You think, "It wasn't really that bad." And push it down.

I actually nearly cried today in one on one therapy, which is something I haven't done with this therapist yet. I asked if it was okay or healthy for me to cry when I got home and he said absolutely. Not to deny myself my feelings. I always feel like crying is a bad thing. I get that from my family. But also because crying spells is a symptom of depression. So I talk myself out of it and try to see the good. Try to see that it wasn't so bad. It could have been worse.

Optimist?

No. Minimalist.

Pole Dancing

I tried pole dancing. Twice. My arms hurt.

Pole dancing is offered as a fitness class. It will definitely get the heart rate pumping and not for the reasons you think. It is difficult. I couldn't get my feet off the ground. I was too scared. Kind of how I am in the pool. My feet must be able to touch the ground. But in the pool, I've gotten to the point where I can bring them off the ground...as long as I know I can get them there if need be. Is that a metaphor for my life?

But I digress.

I had fun for the most part, but during the second class I almost started crying because I couldn't do what they were describing. I felt very defeated. I felt like my body was letting me down. I even felt a bit worthless, useless, hopeless.

All because I couldn't pole dance. How is that for irony?

Such a perfect example of negative thinking and how it can grab hold of your brain and derail your emotions. Luckily, this time, it only lasted a few minutes and then I was able to be more objective about the situation.
1.) So what if I can't pole dance. It's not a necessary life skill.
2.) So what if my body isn't built to make pole dancing easy. It probably wouldn't be easy for me if I was thinner, either. Also, I'm here to work on my body.
3.) It's okay to not be able to do or enjoy everything. I love my hip hop dancing way more.
4.) I had the cajones to try it and that is awesome.
5.) I did get a work out.

I've often seen pole dancing  on groupon and living social deals and thought about it. Now I've done it. Check that one off the list. And as I found out that evening at a meetup event, it makes for a great story.

Regret

This is the face of regret. 

Out of the frying pan...

“Why am I even considering this?” I said aloud as I lie in bed with my face in hands. A headache turning into a migraine behind my eyes.

Teaching. Special Ed. Emotional handicap. Middle schoolers. Boys.

No wonder my head hurts.

Today I had a sub assignment at a middle/high school. I knew it was a special ed assignment, that’s the reason I took it. I wanted to see how special ed was done at other schools. Were the classes smaller? Was there an aide? Were the demands on teachers too high?

Yes. Yes. No. (At least from what I could tell)

Despite being an EH class, the day was one of my easiest ones as a teacher or a sub. Mind you there were two other teachers in the room and half the students. And it was a first day.

I knew from the moment I walked in it was an EH class. I started to panic a little when I saw the teacher’s name on the door and it was the teacher I was filling in for. She had her own classroom, not “pushing in” to other classrooms. Frick. I was hoping for an inclusion setting. Easier, another teacher in the room, one on one with student. Then I walked in and saw the other teachers. Whew.

Anyhow, long story short, the principal asked me if I’d like to sub for that class the rest of the year. There won’t be three teachers in the room, only two. Being the teacher in charge is a different ball game than the one I played today. The other teacher was said to be the new teacher for the rest of the year, so I took a back seat. Taking a front seat, the driver’s seat no less, with this group of teenage boys with anger management issues may be more than I am willing to handle.

I know I could do it, just like I did it before. But will I be happy? Will I have migraines? Will I be going out of the frying pan and into the fire?

14

That is all I have to say about that.

Unsent Letter

In therapy, we learned that we could write letters (that we didn’t have to send) to people with whom we have unresolved issues. The letter should go;

Dear ___________,

1.) This is what happened   (ex: someone died)
2.) This is how it affected me…
3.) This is what I am thankful for… (like memories)
4.) This is how I’m going to continue my life (or if negative person, take my life back)

Sign it.

Here is my letter to one such person.

Dear Ronan,

You hurt me. You said you wanted to spend your life with me and have a child with me and then changed your mind a few days later. You blamed it on your relationship, yet when the relationship was over, you didn't come for me. You have been wishy-washy with me for years now and it hurts. When I found out about your NEW girlfriend, I cried. Not for very long, but I did cry.

You told me that we could try a relationship when yours with T--- was over; assuming I was single as well. I know I told you that if that happened, you would have to physically come get me. That was the boundary I set to protect myself – to ensure you were serious. 

Admittedly, it may seem like a tall order, but a.) it’s just a plane ride and b.) it’s for the woman you “love” and c.) it would lead to me making the bigger sacrifice of moving there. However, debating that is moot, because I don’t think you even considered it for one second. I don’t think I even entered your mind when your relationship with T--- ended despite the fact that we were emailing each other.

That’s speculation, though.

What actually happened was I needed to talk to you about something. I was going to write this letter to you and tell you about my treatment over the last two months and then I thought I could just talk to you about it. We are supposed to be friends, after all. I emailed you asking to talk and you emailed back that you didn’t “have time” because you were in a new relationship that you were quite focused on at the moment. Then typed, “What’s wrong?” Because I had said it was about me, not about me and you.

And you still “didn’t have time”. I emailed back and said I was surprised at your new relationship status given the last time we talked a.) you expected to be with T--- “two more years” b.) you didn’t consider me. I said I held no grudges because it was your life and you could do as your choose. We had made no commitments or set-in-stone plans. I told you the topic I wanted to discuss with you was my health, but that I’ll be fine, I’m sure of it.  

You didn’t reply.

This has affected me by hurting my feelings. More so, though, by not being able to trust what romantic partners (or potential ones) say. Our first date you said you would “show me” how much your cared and I only half believed you, thinking I’d believe it when I see it. Well, then you did show me! My heart changed for the better and that was amazing. Then your wishy-washiness began.

But I’m not talking about 2003, I’m talking about 2014. The wishy-washiness from January to now. How one day we’re practically planning a wedding and the next we’re strangers? How do you think I will feel when someone does ask me to marry him? Do you think there will be doubt in my heart? Absolutely. When someone calls a few minutes later than they said they would, there is the fear that they are gone forever. 

But I want to reiterate the biggest thing this has done to me – made me doubt love. I can only hope that will change and if, God willing, a man does drop to his knee to ask for my hand in marriage, there will not be a doubt in my heart. Because right now, it is still there.

I am thankful for the good times we had. That spark I felt when I first saw you outside the phone booth and standing across the table from you. I hope I can feel that with someone again. 

I’m thankful for the memory of sitting in the Cottage playroom in the dark and looking at the Belfast night sky. 

I’m thankful that you remembered even more about that night than I had (when we talked in January). I’m thankful that you came back the next weekend (showing me you were for real) and bringing me flowers, a SIM card and cough drops. 

I’m thankful that you let me help you with your daughter, Emma, the first time spent the night with you.

I’m thankful for the long friendship we’ve had. The type of relationship where I feel I can share anything.

I’m thankful for the memories of what it felt like to touch your face and kiss you – make love to you. Of how after the first time, I cried because it was so emotional. 

I’m thankful that I shared my Northern Ireland experience with you. 

I’m also thankful for the experience of giggling under the sheets at the B&B when the staff came to the door. 

This is how I’m going to continue my life: I have a guarded heart, but despite everything it is still open (which I think shows how loving I am). I am actively looking for a LIFE PARTNER! I will judge him by his actions, not yours. I will let him love me completely so that when he does propose, there is no room for doubt in my heart because it is so full of love for and from him. I will look forward to the future and not dwell on the past. I will not try to understand your actions (past, present, or future). I will remember that I deserve 100% every day from my partner and accept nothing less.

Sincerely,

Sabrina

Premonition

Friday morning I woke up and posted this. 

Friday night, this happened.

My friend is okay, physically. She has bruises and other superficial wounds. I am in shock of it all. I know him, too, as I have been over to their house about 5 out of 7 days in any given week. I did not think he was capable of something like this. He had us fooled. But there were definitely red flags. Red flags she regrets overlooking now.

He is in jail and hopefully will stay there for a long time. I don't know that jail is where he will get help he needs, but he needs to be kept away from society for his safety and everyone else's. No excuses. That's how these things happen, when we make excuses for the abuser. Of course someone who does something like this is mentally ill. Most people in jail are mentally ill. This isn't about the effectiveness of the criminal justice system, it's about keeping you, your family and your friends safe.

Souls

People wonder why I even give thought to certain people (ahem, Ronan) but the reason is best described in that picture. From the moment I met him, I felt a connection. When I speak to him, when I'm in his presence, I feel this bond that I can't explain. It doesn't really make any rational sense at all. The time I was in Northern Ireland was brief and we didn't spend all that much time together then, either. He lived a couple hours away and my work schedule was insane. Yet, there was just this... connection. I can't think of another word to describe it. And ten years later, I still feel it. 

I've been hearing this song on the radio and focusing on the lyrics, "I just want to know you better." 

Turns out, it's another Taylor Swift song (I didn't even know it was her, I swear!) 

The Tale of Two Buddies

Or, "The Saga of the Sheets"

I had just gotten out of the shower and answered the door in my bathrobe. I threw the sheets on the bed and said he could put them on while I finished getting ready. He said, “You’re assuming I know how.” I turned and looked at him and said, “Never mind, I’ll do it when I’m done. Just have a seat.” I was kind of bewildered in my head, thinking, “Damn right, I assume you know how to put on a bed sheet, you’re in your 30s.” But I kept focused and finished getting myself ready.

When I was done, I came into the bedroom and started putting on the fitted sheet. He apologized for not doing it. I said, “That’s okay. I can do it.” And then jokingly added, “I’m a strong, independent woman.” To which he replied, “I’m a weak, dependent man.” We both paused and he said, “I wish I were joking.”

I was “smh” (shaking my head) in my head, if that makes sense, marveling at the negative thinking in this man’s head. As I fought with the pillow case, I was going to toss one to him to do, but couldn’t find the case. Probably for the best. I fished the case out of the dryer and did it myself. I was trying to talk as positively as I could during all of this. The ying to his dark, gloomy yang. The Tigger to his Eeyore. The manic to his depressive.

He finally came out and said he was a pessimist. I said I was an optimist and smiled. What a change in my mood and demeanor, I thought, somewhere, in the back of my brain. He said we were like the premise for an indie film. Two people who meet online to become fuck buddies; one the ultimate pessimist, the other an overly positive optimist who helps the pessimist turn his life around. I told him he should write it, he is a writer after all. Then I point to the decal on my wall. It says, “Life is Beautiful.” He is not moved. I said, “You’re not buying it are you?” “Nah.” I laugh. Not sure if he did or not.

This is all so beautifully ironic because I barely know how to put on a bed sheet myself. I often start with it the wrong way. I am horrible with making the bed. Even when I do it, it looks like a preschooler did it. And I couldn't get a flat sheet tucked neatly in a bed, ever, which is the task I think he thought I was asking him to perform. (When he saw me doing the fitted sheet is when he said, “Oh, I could’ve done that.”) Up until about two months ago, I had a good deal of negative self-talk going on in my brain. It was almost like seeing a version of myself from the not so distant past. Seeing how much negative thoughts affect your life is sobering. I had even beat myself up for not being a great homemaker. Here now, my skills as a homemaker had not improved, but I was still able to accomplish the task. It may not have been fantastic, but I did it. There was now a sheet on my bed, wrinkled and all. I didn't doubt for one second that I could do it. And if something were to have happened and I wouldn't have been able to get it on the bed, I wouldn't have thrown my hands up in despair saying, “I’m so stupid.” (Which is what he did upon getting lost to our first meeting.) Or, “This is who I am, I’m never going to change.” (Which he said when I pointed out his negative self-talk.)

I’m so proud of how far I’ve come. This experience just reignited my commitment to stay positive and mentally healthy. My thoughts are powerful. I have to speak to myself kindly, as I would to others. Because that’s just the kind of positive, optimistic person I am ;-) 

Update: the pessimist has entered into mental health treatment. Hopefully, it will help.

The Blame is on Me

I have been playing Taylor Swift songs over and over tonight. That’s never a good sign. Especially when the songs are, “I knew you were trouble” and “We are never getting back together”.

But didn’t I just post, “We are never getting back together” about a month ago? Oh yeah. And wasn’t the title of that post, “Over it”.  Mmhmm. So then it’s not about the same guy, right?

Wrong.

Fuck.

This man has the innate, uncanny ability to repeatedly break my heart a.) without even trying and b.) while not even together. He once dumped me three times without us being together in between. What?

He’s just that hurtful, and I’m just that naïve.

I was talking today about how an ex-friend of mine stole money from me several years ago. She watched me put in my PIN at the ATM, stole my card and withdrew money. It took me less than a week to have figured it out, filed a police report and have her out of my life forever.

Why was it so easy to do with theft yet so hard to do with romance? What the hell is wrong with my romantic brain? Is this person going to have steal money from me in order for me to forget about them? Stealing is just universally understood as wrong, both morally and legally. The romantic shit can be explained away by smooth talkers and memories can change history and you think what happened must not have been all that bad. Or nostalgia just makes you ache for what used to be and you want it so bad, you believe that there really will be a chance when he and his girlfriend break up. Then maybe you can work through being in different countries. Then he offhandedly emails that he’s starting a new relationship and it’s like being punched in the gut because you thought you would be the next relationship. Sure, you weren’t waiting, you were busy having hookup sex and all that, but deep down, you thought you would get back together. That you were next in line, if you wanted to be. If YOU were willing to accept that. Then you hear that you didn’t even get a vote. You weren’t even considered. The idea that you would even think such a thing was nowhere on the radar to this person. This person, who just two months ago, talked about marrying you and having kids. This person, who tried to be rational and fair and saying that he couldn’t in good faith break off his relationship just because “the heart wants what the heart wants”. The one who told you that no one had ever loved him like you had loved him and he knew that if he didn’t take this opportunity to be with you, that he would never be loved like that again.

Then the opportunity came and he didn’t even think of you. Two months later.

It’s no wonder I cried.

Yet again. Ten years after I said it was over the first time. Five years after I said it was over again. Two months after I swore I was done. I was hurt again, by the same man. Did he steal something from me after all? Did I just leave it all out there for him to take? I left it out there, that’s for sure, but he didn’t even reach for it. 

13

I've now slept with 13 men.

And I'm okay with that. I think.

That's not too bad considering I've been having sex for over 20 years.

However, I can't say that I've had serious relationships with 13 men. So you know what that means?

Hookups.

Not many of them, mind you. Most partners have been in the confines of a relationship. Just not all of them. I'm half tempted to count just how many, but I'll refrain. I can say that the two most recent partners have been hookups. And I am definitely okay with that. Not something I want to make a habit out of, thus I've tried to recruit more long term hookups. Friends with benefits (FWB), if you will. We'll see how it works out.



Why note 13? 13 has always been an important number to me. I turned 13 on Friday the 13th. My mom didn't want me to leave the house that day! (I did.) Since my birthday is the 13th, I've always considered it a bit of a "lucky" number.


So maybe 13 is the number I will reach before meeting 'the one'. Maybe it will turn out to be my lucky number. The one that leads me to my lifelong partner. Maybe it will be just another stop in the road.

Being the age I am (36) and wanting what I do (family), my ultimate goal is a husband. A lifelong FWB, I suppose.  Hoping that #14 is my permanent number and the one forever? Sure. Sounds hokey, corny, wishful, but if I could wave a magic wand and make my life what I want, I want a partner in life, not just sex. Sex is easy, life is hard.

                   

Dizzy again

I am so dizzy again. Since the weekend. I attribute it to my migraine medicine, so I didn't take it last night. Guess who has a headache that is progressively getting worse?

Darnit. I thought maybe my migraines had ceased due to lower amount of stress in my life. Guess not.

Tomorrow is the 7 year anniversary of Mike's death.
Tomorrow I graduate from treatment.
Tomorrow I have ballroom dancing.

The literal dizziness in my head seems to mirror the emotional dizziness in my brain and heart. I am so excited to step down from treatment and now only go once a week. I am nervous about the lack of support, though.

I thought I was completely okay emotionally when it came to Mike's death. Then I tried writing a post about it yesterday and I realized that it definitely still affects me. Mostly the memory of all that happened when he died. That was one of the most difficult things I've dealt with in my life.

My life - that I'm still living. That I think he would be proud of. That's why I'm glad my last day of "intensive" treatment is tomorrow. And I'm glad that my first one on one ballroom dance class is tomorrow. I remember the only time we danced together, was on the street corner and we attempted to do a ballroom dance. A pleasant memory.

I do miss him. I keep telling myself the pain is so much less now than it was then, and it is. But it's all still there. The pain, the anger, the fear, the grief, the sadness...all of it. Just doesn't show up as often as it used to. I miss the unconditional nature of our relationship. I miss being able to tell someone anything and know that their opinion of me won't change. I miss being able to text ten times a day about silly things. I miss the feel of his facial stubble against my hand, cheek. I miss the sound of his voice.

I miss him.

7 years

This is the day Mike died 7 years ago. It was technically the 11th, but it was Sunday, the day we moved clocks forward. I was living in Lafayette, but I was actually in Hammond that weekend. On Saturday to Sunday, I babysat Danielle's daughter, who was six at the time. I remember driving to Hammond and sitting at 30 and 41 thinking how close to Mike's house I was. Later I wondered if he was still alive at that moment or if I had heard the ambulance taking his lifeless body to the hospital.

This is hard.

I'll have to finish it later. It's now after 3 am due to the time jump and I have church in the morning.

Two Drink Maximum

I had two "Lady of the Sea" drinks tonight, so you know something was going down. Two of those drinks (or any drink, for that matter) are my absolute maximum. I had a date. Well, sort of. I met a guy there, let's say. Aw, for f*cks sake, I met a hook up there.

Whew, feel better confessing already. It's not even Lent yet.

And no, the alcohol did not cause the hookup. I was drinking because of the hook up.

Anyhow, I've now slept with three guys in a year. Actually more like six months. That's not quite a new record, because there was the summer of slut in my 20s, but it's pretty damn close, I think.

Jonathan is the only person who knows about it because I'm not ashamed to tell him anything. I also forwarded him all the info on the dudes mentioned so that he had all the info in case something bad happened to me. Other than this blog, I don't want to tell anyone about this. Even my fricking therapist. I got such negative feedback after the last dude. This guy; I saw his website before hand. He's a published author, so I saw his writing online. We went out for dinner and drinks. We chatted for an hour at least. I still wasn't sure about sex, so I told him we could go to my place and make out. Yes, I was that specific. I said I wasn't sure about anything else, so I didn't want to create an expectation. Well, the make out was good, so sexy time followed.

I was all good with everything, but now I'm starting to have some regrets. Or is it guilt? I don't know, but I'm starting to think maybe I should have left it at heavy petting and skipped the sexy time. Idk why, but that's how I feel.

I had another guy that I met up with a couple of times but he didn't text me back today, so I moved on. Ain't nobody got time for that.

Today is Mardi Gras. I suppose crazier things have happened on Fat Tuesday, n'est-ce pas? Oui.

It just amazes me what decision we humans makes when it comes to sex. Somehow our brain goes out the window and we're doing this strange act that is meant to procreate, but we take whatever means necessary to not procreate whilst doing it. We allow people we hardly know into our homes. We let this stranger see us naked and stick one of their body parts into ours.

I would have another drink, but I've had my fill.

If you know what I mean. Zing!

Over It

Dizzy Mind

I stayed home from treatment today because the new medicine made me so dizzy I couldn't drive. I feel like a wuss for staying home for something so benign, but I couldn't see straight. It's one of those things where if nothing happens, people tell you that you were being silly, but if you get into an accident, "Why were you driving when you were that dizzy?"

Because of this, I missed the window of going to shop before the next snowstorm rolled in. Now I'm stuck inside dizziness or not. I wonder if treatment will be canceled tomorrow? I'm guessing the hospital will call me if it is. I hope they do. I would hate to trudge up there for nothing. I'm debating on whether I should take the new medicine again tonight. I'm thinking no.

I miss my friends. I haven't seen them so far this week.

I am feeling so sad. My eyes were leaking just because of dry eye, but now I'm crying. I forget why I was in my old email account and I was cleaning it out and suddenly I'm looking for old Ronan messages. Big fucking mistake. Thought I deleted those. Well, they were in the deleted folder, but still there. The mean things he said...horrible. Mind you, that was years ago, but he is incommunicado now. We were supposed to be friends. It hurts my feelings. But I can't even keep writing about this because this is such bullshit. I don't have a lot of time left on this Earth and I'm not going to spend it upset over someone who doesn't care about me. I'll have a strong day where I think I don't need bullshit and block people and numbers and then I'll wallow in self pity and masochistically read old shit that just hurts. Ain't nobody got time for that.

 I really think that PMDD is playing a part in this (super PMS). I think I'll take a Valium tonight. There is no reason for me to feel this way. I shouldn't even think of Ronan or let his decisions or words past or present affect me in any way. Not him, not Jonathan, not anyone. I shouldn't. But I do. Every fucking time. Jonathan, really? The same men over and over again. This is bullshit. Absolute and utter bullshit. I think I'm trying to build relationships, or that having people from my past is helpful because I can work through the issues from the past, but I think that is all just an excuse to keep myself from living my life to the fullest. It's the demon in my head that is depression keeping me from having the life I was meant to live. From having the life I want to live. It's that demon that continually tells me to accept less than I deserve. This depression demon tells me so many horrible things, that I won't even type them. I'm done, depression demon. In case you haven't noticed, I've made some progress. I may not be rid of you completely yet, but I'm working on it. I will tame the beast. I will be happy. I will make the rest of my life the best of my life and be happy, loved and loving. In the meantime, the battle in my heart and mind between where I want to be and where I am rages on, which leads to a dizzy mind.

View from the other side

“I will not give you what you really need, I can’t. I am too busy trying to get what I need and deserve from you. I can give you a bit of this and that if you like, but nothing that requires honest emotional investment because I am not emotionally available. I am really just empty. I am really about smoke and mirrors. I love you so much though, I’d never hurt you. But then again, how would I know if I hurt you because I am substance addicted* and oblivious to conscience or the feelings you have anyway, you know? You, on the other hand, you are emotionally available and luckily for you, I am here to demand and take endlessly from your compassion and empathic stores of emotion. You can chase me if you like, but you won’t catch me. What will happen is that the more you chase, the more I will get you and as I get you, you will get more caught up in trying to fix me than caring about yourself. I have you right where I want you.”

*Does not have to be substance addicted – just toxic, codependent, narcissistic, etc.

From A.J. Mahari September 24, 2007

I read this and I got a pain in my chest it hit home so hard. This is about trauma bonds. We get in relationships to work out issues from past trauma in our lives. It was hard core stuff that was right on the money for me. So here's a questionnaire to answer with yes or no. 

1.) Do you obsess about people who have hurt you even though they are long gone?

2.) Do you continue to seek contact with people whom you know will cause you further pain?

3.) Do you go "overboard" to help people who have been destructive to you?

4.) Do you continue to be a "team" member when obviously things are becoming destructive?

5.) Do you continue attempts to get people to like you who are clearly using you?

6.) Do you trust people again and again who are proven to be unreliable?

7.) Are you unable to retreat from unhealthy relationships?

8.) Do you try to be understood by those who clearly do not care?

9.) Do you choose to stay in conflict with others when it would cost you nothing to walk away?

10.) Do you persist in trying to convince people that there is a problem and they are not willing to listen?

11.) Are you loyal to people who have betrayed you?

12.) Do you attract untrustworthy people?

13.) Have you kept damaging secrets about exploitation or abuse?

14.) Do you continue contact with an abuser who acknowledges no responsibility?

15.) Do you find yourself covering up, defending, or explaining a relationship?

16.) When there is a constant pattern on non-performance in a relationship, do you continue to expect them to follow through anyway?

17.) Do you have repetitive, destructive fights that are no win for anybody?

18.) Do you find that others are horrified by something that has happened to you and you are not?

19.) Do you obsess about showing someone that they are wrong about you, your relationship, or their treatment of you? 

20.) Do you feel stuck because you know what the other is doing is destructive but you believe you cannot do anything about it? 

21.) Do you feel loyal to someone even though you harbor secrets that are damaging to others?

22.) Do you move closer to someone you know is destructive to you even though you do not trust, like or care for the person?

23.) Does someone's talents, charisma, or contributions cause your to overlook destructive, exploitative, or degrading acts?

24.) Do you find you cannot detach from someone even though you do n trust, like or care the person?

25.) Do you find yourself missing a relationship even to the point of nostalgia and longing, that was so awful it almost destroyed you? 

26.) Are extraordinary demands placed on your to measure up as a way to cover up exploitation? 

27.) Do you keep secret someone's destructive behavior because of all of the good they have done or the importance of their position or career?

28.) Does your relationship have contacts or promises that have been broken which you are asked to overlook?

29.) Are you attracted to "dangerous" people?

30.) Do you stay in a relationship longer than you should? 

Let's tally up your score!  You should have 0 yes answers! 

You enter into these trauma bond relationships in order to work out the issues from a past traumatic relationship in your life. You will keep on having the same relationship over and over and over again until you resolve whatever it is you need to resolve. So work on that. Get in therapy, STAT! 

Be done with it

Penis Dumped

As of about an hour ago, I am no longer having sex with my ex.

He dumped me. Or my vagina, rather. (And other parts of me, but I’ll spare the details).

I got penis dumped.

We really were only sleeping together and nothing else. Well, I guess we were friends or friendly, at least. But as far as romance, not even on the radar. This was in part because our actual relationship was so long ago, in part because we just don’t feel that way about each other because we resolved that eons ago and in part because he has a significant significant other. Yes, I typed significant twice. As in long term, permanent kind of deal. Now he doesn’t want to fuck because they want to make babies. Well, slap my ass and call me Sally. I so shouldn’t have been upset by this. I really shouldn't have. I really, really shouldn't have.

I was.

Fudge.

It doesn’t help at all that I am in the middle of the worst menstrual period in recent memory, with all of the horrible emotions that go along with it. Nor does it help that I am hanging on waiting on a reply from another ex after talking about getting back together. It probably doesn’t help either that hibernation ends as of tomorrow and I have to figure out what really comes next for me, despite not knowing whether or not I am even still in the teaching program. Or that I forgot to make one of my payments and have to figure that out. Or that in general, I already feel such a low, low feeling of self-worth.  That probably all has something to do with it.

This was just horrible timing, honestly, for my ego. All I can think is that the Lord works in mysterious ways. Just yesterday I was at lunch with a good friend who was telling me that I was going to have room in my life for the right man if I kept letting the wrong men in (specifically mentioning this dude) and kabow, he dumps me. I guess that’s kind of right on time. 

Edit - And I just found out it's international kiss a ginger day http://hotforginger.com/blog/international-kiss-a-ginger-day

Mortality

I just found out a past sexual partner has hepatitis C. My first thoughts were for his welfare and state of mind but later, as I had time to myself, I started to think about me. Could I have gotten it from him? Is it possible that it hasn't yet been diagnosed?

Google searches followed and I'm pretty confident that I'm fine. I go to the doctor regularly, have blood tests every three months for other ailments, but then I remembered that there was that liver enzyme number that was inexplicably abnormal. Did they ever actually test for hep c?

But really, I'm sure I'm fine.

Just like when I had the MRI of my brain a few weeks ago. Way in the back of my thoughts was the idea that maybe there was something completely out of my control that was not easily fixed - like a brain tumor. I didn't really think there was, but this little bitty inkling sat in the back of my consciousness. It scared me. It made me frightened to think that despite doing all of the right things and going to all of my doctor appointments, taking my medicines and not engaging in high risk behavior, I could still end up with a sickness outside of my control. I will still end up at some point, faced with my own mortality.

That's f*cking depressing.

But then I started to think of that country song, "Live like you were dying". And if it was a brain tumor, how would I live my life? Would I be doing the things I'm doing now? Would I accept my life the way it is now? What would I change?

I don't think we should all be so short sighted to live every single day like it's our last, we would never graduate school or have careers. I already live by the mantra of letting people know how I feel and telling everyone I love them always. But in day to day life, especially now, I let the details overshadow my joy. There has been little to no joy in my life since I started teaching. That was never the goal. No one wants to live a life without joy. I don't think it's teaching that's doing it, I think it's the specific school and/or program that I've been working with.

But I didn't want to be a quitter. I bit my tongue, clenched my teeth (literally), made myself ill from keeping it all in. But I wasn't a quitter. I was going to stay the course. I had made a commitment. I had started this year and I was going to finish it. I would move on once my two years was up. Maybe once the school year was over. I was not going to leave mid-year, brain tumor or no brain tumor.

As fate often does, it intervened. After school let out for Christmas break, the principal called me into her office and told me that she was letting me go. She said it wasn't a good fit. I was shocked because there hadn't been any discipline write ups or warnings and said so, but she said this was her decision and that was that. I was walked to my classroom by the Dean and he watched me pack up my stuff.

Brain tumor or no brain tumor, I lost my job.
Christmas or no Christmas, I was fired.
Discipline or no discipline, no second chances.

My teaching career at this school was now dead.

2013 Year in Review

In a nutshell:

Mom had a heart attack
I became a teacher
Got a new car
Moved to a different city
Started my master's degree
Made peace with my rapist
Started sleeping with my ex
Left school in an ambulance
Made Dean's List
Then got academic probation
Got a teaching job
Then lost my job
Celebrated Christmas with the family
Wondering what the next year holds

Oh and Mom graduated from cardiac rehab just this week  ;-)

Life partner

How should you choose a life partner? Should it be about romantic love or should our new about compatibility? Put a different way, should you live with someone who you can tolerate and rely on and care about but not worry about delirious head over heels love? Is that something that makes lifelong partnership too difficult? (Because the flip side is conflict and other emotions)

So far, I've heard, "follow your heart" and "you just know". 

That's what I've always thought, too. But now I'm beginning to wonder...

Beautiful day to be off work

It is a beautiful day to be off of work. We have today off. I don’t know exactly why. It is Veteran’s Day, but I don’t think that’s why we have it off. I heard it has more to do with the Florida school calendar and this being the end of their quarter (our corporation is based in Florida). I don’t really care why, I’m just happy to have the day off. I can’t wait until those glorious two weeks of Christmas vacation. The neighboring school district had two weeks off for fall break. We had two days. I was inputting all the days off in my calendar and noticed that in the spring semester there is a LONG stretch of time where there are no days off at all. I’m trying not to think about that and trying to focus on the positive. Today I have a day off. Today is a good day.

Thinking back and remembering what has been the most relaxing day of the school year thus far was actually the day after I left school in an ambulance. I knew that I had to take it very, very easy, so I stayed in bed all day and read an entire book. It made a world of difference reading a book versus being on the computer. Much more relaxing, the book.

Speaking of the ambulance; I am still waiting to see the neurologist. I saw my primary care physician who referred me to that specialist. The PCP thinks it could be spinal fluid leaking putting pressure in my skull. The neurologist will order an MRI and that will be able to tell. In the meantime, I have some strong headache medicine which is controlling the pain, if I take it by a certain time of day. It has some side effects that aren’t so pleasant, but I’m just trying to grin and bear it until I get in to see neurology. I am just thankful the pain is gone.

Seeing the positive, that’s what I’m trying to do! 

Ambulance ride numero dos

Yesterday I left school in an ambulance because I thought I was having a diabetic stroke of some kind. I saw prisms and was slurring my speech and dizzy. Turns out it was a migraine. I stayed home today and did not leave the house. I read an entire book. I would love to stay home again tomorrow but it is the last week of the quarter and I need to make sure my kids get the grades they deserve. Funny how the most stressful week is the one you get the migraine??? Coincidence? I think not. I just can't wait until the summer break and hope to be poolside with a frozen cocktail being served to me.

Tired

Was an hour late to my evening class today. Comedy of errors led to this but had to eat and get my rent paid. TGI(A)F. (Thank God it's almost Friday). 

We had a corporate visit at school today. When one of the leaders said, "There's no tired like first month of teaching tired" I felt validated. Glad to hear I'm not the only one. 

Moms have it rougher, and maybe one day I'll experience that. But for now, this is as tired as I've ever felt. 

Forever 12?

Last week, I was sitting in my master's level class with a group of professionals and when the teacher said the name of a diagnostic test was "Woodcock Johnson" some of us just burst into laughter. We are all really 12 year olds inside, I think.

I have never seen so many "Toms" shoes before working at my school. They are worn by the teachers, who are young, not long out of college. I think they are kind of ugly. But now I see them at the university with the other teachers and suddenly they start growing on me. I buy a pair of shoes from the clearance rack that look like Toms because now I suddenly like that style. 

Totally reminds me of when I was in 6th grade and everyone wore those god awful brown boat shoes. They would twirl the laces on the side to make them stick out instead of tying them. I thought they were hideous. Seriously. I couldn't imagine how anyone could ever wear them. But then they did. Every girl started getting these hideous shoes and doing that ridiculous knot. 

Suddenly I wanted a pair of these shoes. 

In one of my 8th grade classrooms today, one of the students let out a very silent but deadly fart. The kids fell over themselves trying to get away from the smell. At first I shook my head at their dramatic exit then I got a whiff and I quickly went to the other side of the room, trying not to inhale while laughing hysterically. 

The more things change, the more they stay the same. 

When I was your woman

Someone told me to look up this song and listen...

Same bed, but it feels just a little bit bigger now
Our song on the radio, but it don't sound the same
When our friends talk about you all that it does is just tear me down
Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name

Hmmm too young, too dumb to realize
That I should have bought you flowers and held your hand
Should have gave you all my hours when I had the chance
Take you to every party cause all you wanted to do was dance
Now my baby is dancing, but she's dancing with another man.

My pride, my ego, my needs and my selfish ways
Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life
Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made
And it haunts me every time I close my eyes

Although it hurts I'll be the first to say that I was wrong
Oh, I know I'm probably much too late
To try and apologize for my mistakes
But I just want you to know
I hope he buys you flowers, I hope he holds your hand
Give you all his hours when he has the chance
Take you to every party cause I remember how much you loved to dance
Do all the things I should have done when I was your man!

Special Ed Party

The head of the special education department (aka special ed, or sped) said we should have a "party" this weekend to enter IEPs into the computer system.

Woohoo.

Okay, if you want me to come in on a weekend, let's just be real about it. It's not a party. It's 10 am on a Sunday morning at school sitting in front of a computer entering data from papers in folders. 

Being a special education teacher is so much more than just the work with the children. There is a vast amount of paperwork and law involved. Deadlines are always looming and you are always careful of communicating information to anyone. Not just the usual privacy, but how you do it. Don't send emails. Document not only phone calls, but attempts to call. Always document. 

I had a pizza party for one of my classes on Friday. I also comforted two crying kids in two different classes. Middle school: always drama. 

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to rest up for my sped party tomorrow. Where's my party hat? 

Forgiveness

I met up with the man who raped me twenty years ago and this is what happened.
(Note: we had spoken on the phone the day before.)

Twenty Years

Needs versus Ridiculously Unnecessary Useless Gifts

This weekend I went to a fourth birthday party.  To avoid having to describe the complex exact relationship, let's just say it was a friend of a friend. There were about thirty people at the party when I arrived, and there had been more who had come and gone before and since. Each of these people brought at least one gift for the birthday child. Including the vast multitude of gifts from the parents and grandparents, there were easily fifty-sixty presents. Fifty presents. For one child. One four year old child. In addition, though, they have two other children, and they both received a few gifts. One more than the other, because this poor child didn't have a birthday party (the horror) and this was kind of sort of their party as well. So what we can deduce from this (and what I actually learned from speaking with the parents) is that they not only have a birthday party every year for this child, but they also have one every year for the other kids as well. That's three birthday parties a year. Fifty presents per child (which is a conservative estimate) comes to 150 presents a year for this household. That's for birthdays. Christmas is a whole other story. I would estimate about twenty gifts per child (again, conservative estimate) for Christmas. So about 200 gifts (mainly toys) in this household per year. But wait, there's more! Do you think they only get toys at birthdays and Christmas? Not likely. I can't even fathom how many that comes to, so I'll just stick with the number 200.

As the child opened the presents, and I glanced at the overflowing present table, all I could think was, "Where are they going to put all of this?" They have a modest home, and with three children it is already bursting at the seams. Then I started to think of the money that went into those gifts. While I got mine for less than $1 thanks to clearance sales and coupons (and already had in the house), most people spent at least $20. The amount of money spent on the gifts could have paid for books for college one year.

The party itself is another expense. It was by no means extravagant. It was a very simple barbecue in a family member's backyard. They even got great discounts on the meat from a friend who works for the company. However, they still had to pay for that, mountains of beverages, side dishes, paper plates, napkins, plastic cutlery, tablecloths, etc. That is all money they paid out of pocket to have this party. One party goer suggested that they have a play date at a local children's place and the parent replied, "I don't know if I'll have the money after this." Clearly, this was an expense that put a marked dent into their budget.

Meanwhile, they get a call from the local police department that one of their dogs has escaped. In this extreme heat, they had accidentally left their animals outside. That, and a roaming dog is enough to get you in trouble with animal control, but the police officer was concerned about the look of the animal. Mind you, this is a police officer, not an animal control officer. Just by looking at the dog, he could tell that it wasn't healthy. He even took pictures of the dog to give to animal control for investigation when the office opened Monday. That was even before the officer knew that neither of the animals have had their shots in at least three years!

So, you mean to tell me that you can't afford rabies shots, but you can afford three birthday parties a year?
(Or this year, two birthday parties.)

You might suggest that the birthday party is a way for them to get gifts, so really it's an investment. They get more than they put in. I can see that theory. However, before the party, this child had more than enough toys and probably even clothes as well. What she got were a lot of dolls that I'm not sure she can tell the difference between. Puzzles too old for her. Many things that will remain unopened for a year to come.

What she is doing is (possibly) starting preschool next month. She could have probably used school supplies. Even then, knowing the mother, she probably would still buy the things she wanted and not used what others bought, though.

I struggle with these issues with my niece, who is also four years old. I want to buy her every cute thing I see, but she already has more than what she could ever use or play with. One friend of my parents buys her savings bonds for each birthday. That is a good idea. We should all consider this for children, especially the children who don't have any immediate needs for necessities. The craptastic toys we buy now will not be around when they are applying to college, or need a new uniform or braces or book rental. It is just so much wiser.

Yet I only know one person who does it.

Fun with Blasphemy

Today I was driving through Indiana, and I was listening to country music. I don't normally listen to country music, but occasionally on my cross-Indiana drives, I like to, because it seems appropriate. Also, because I have my radio on scan and there are a lot of country music stations in Indiana.

My radio is scanning away and I quickly hit seek to go back to that previous station. Something was intriguing about that country song.

He wanted to have a beer with Jesus.

Of course he did.

This made me think of a story my Mom told me the other day of a tiff in a store. Two women were arguing over something their children did and one mother said to the other, "You need to get Jesus in your life!" When the arguing continued, the first mother reiterated the point with blasphemic emphasis, "I'm serious you need to fucking get Jesus in your god damned life!"

~ Scene. ~

And then I came across this gem at Payless Shoe Source (b/c I'm just classy like that).

Nothing says "Turn the other cheek" like cross brass knuckles.

Edited to add this video, which isn't blatantly blasphemous, but definitely hilarious.

*Disclaimer - I am Christian. Doesn't mean I can't appreciate irony. 

This guy... Thank you!

http://chrisbrecheen.blogspot.com.au/2013/07/changing-creepy-guy-narrative.html?m=1 

Okay, this is one of the reasons why I like to stay fat. Seriously. After being raped, I didn't want people to notice me and not in that "I need to bone you right now" kind of way, but even like this. So annoying. (Especially black men in Chicago. Seriously dude. Stop.) Kudos to this dude. So funny.

Another year older

Ten minutes before my birthday, time to cram in some self reflection.

This year, I was 35 years old.

I was a bit shocked by the number 35 because, well, it's not early thirties anymore. This is bona fide thirties. And it just sounds so... old. In just a few short minutes, I will be 36.

Holy crap.

But before I go on about the age, let me reflect on this last year.

On my birthday last year, I was cat sitting in Chicago, which is what I'm doing this year. I met up with Donna for Starbucks and later, dinner at the Himalayan restaurant. Unfortunately, this year Donna is up at the lake house so I didn't get to see her. I did see my cousins Teresa and Tricia, though, and my college friend, Nikki.

The most significant part of this year actually just happened last month. I completed teacher training. It was hard. It was difficult to get into and even more difficult to complete, but it was amazing. For the first time in a long time, I don't feel lost. I'm not struggling with figuring out what I want to do in life, where I want to live. I know that teaching is a career for me. Whether I end up in Indianapolis or in Northwest Indiana, I will have my own place to live and my own life. That is huge. I moved back in with my parents five years ago, now. That is way too long. That is the longest I've lived with them since moving out for college.

My parents have been a tremendous help, too. Not only with giving me a place to live, but also with helping me secure this position. I needed money to pay off my private loans to get my transcripts and Dad gave it to me. I needed a co-signer for the car loan, and Mom did it. They financially supported me during my training.

I am very fortunate.

I look forward to this next year of my life - this year of being 36. Of being a teacher. Of actually having a life in Indiana instead of waiting for life to happen elsewhere.

And it's midnight. I'm 36. Let's do this, 36 year old, Sabrina! You got this!

Another Ex Encounter

So I recently met up with an old sex...er, I mean ex. I was a bit nervous because...I'm not sure how to sufficiently put it into words. Part of it was I afraid I would no longer measure up to his standards. Part of it was I wasn't sure if he would measure up to my standards. And part of it was I wasn't sure if this was going to lead to sex. 

Thankfully, there was alcohol. Oh, alcohol! The libation - my salvation. Okay, not really. It's just the lubricant needed for such awkward encounters. Lubricant...

Speaking of which...

As we were lying in bed after the obligatory, "how you doing" bang, apropos of nothing, I said, "Remember when we were a couple?"

"Yeah", he replied.

"That was hilarious", I chuckled. And then we both burst into laughter.

I wish I had some life lesson to share here. Some take away from the experience. But I really don't. I think a little part of me was afraid that if I saw him, hugged him, fucked him, that I would rekindle the feelings I once had. That was not the case, and that is a GOOD THING! Part of me thought I was too old to have sex without a relationship anymore. That was not the case, and I guess that is a GOOD THING, too. I made all sorts of assumptions about myself based on a.) one bad experience in the recent past and b.) based on my new age. I guess I did have some lesson. You know what happens when you assume, right? You make an ASS out of u & me. There you have it, folks. Life lesson. No charge, it's a gift.