Over

Over. When asked if he wanted this relationship he said "do I have to tell you now?".....Yes, and you already have just by that answer but I need to hear you say it. "No".

What more is needed to end love, when yours is no longer wanted.  "I'm not attracted to you anymore"... that.

To have the lips you have kissed a thousand times sneer at you during this, the moment of your heartbreak....is to seal the fate of this malnourished love. The final gasping breath caught in my chest, hard as a rock.

I loved you with all of my heart and accepted the love you gave me but you are right, i'm not the same. I can no longer accept less than being loved wholly and unconditionally by the man who shares my life. Or I will simply not share.

I wish you no ill will, and I hope that one day you remember me with a smile. I hope that one day I remember you with a smile. For now, I will try to smile and hide my pain, move forward and leave you in my past.

Re-visiting this blog renders feelings of guilt - something i haven't kept up on that i really felt i should.  Something that would be productive,if only for me- and positive, again- only for me.  So i begin by apologizing to myself for not being diligent in upholding the promises i make to myself- this blog being only one failed promise in a long line of well meaning intentions.

The problem: How much telling is too much?  Why is it okay to write about these things but not THESE things?  Who says?  Ultimately who cares?  Aside from the person or two or three that may identify themselves here either correctly or incorrectly, no one will care and yet some may be mildly entertained. Or maybe even knowing it is not them of which i speak, they will identify the sameness that sticks to all of us.  

You may not have walked a mile in my shoes but i'm sure you've taken some of the same steps.  Not the exact same as her over there, or him in here, but the same somewhere.  Because like the saying goes, we are all more alike than we are different.  In other words your heartbreak, my heartbreak?  Not original.  Not even a little. It's all been done before so THEREFOR why can we not speak of things that seem like "too much information" or "over sharing".  Why must we only share smiling pictures and joyful events on social media or be considered an attention whore, or drama queen?  It's all the same bullshit when it comes down to it.   Knowing i will survive as many before me have almost makes it an adventure. Similiar to walking on coals when you don't truly believe your feet wont burn and SURPRISE- your feet got burned.  Does anyone need understanding or empathy getting through the good times?  doubtful, as there are usually plenty of people wiling to share in the festivities. When your heart is dark people scatter and i think it's because they are afraid its catching.  They don't want your darkness to make them remember their own. Because we all have it in us. Only fools think otherwise. 

I'm going to try something different.  I'm not going to dull it down or leave out the grit because it makes someone else more comfortable with my experience...  Because i've been going through some shit and here feels safe, like a place to unload (or as its popular now to say "unpack") it.  Let's refer to it as a record of my growth from caring about others more than myself, to caring about myself enough to care more about others.  

Yeah that.  I want so badly to be able to talk to that one person who will weed out the emotions and care enough about me to hear my fears and say "me too.  you aren't alone.  I'm in it with you" and i think that maybe that is some ridiculous 70's music lyrics or 80's movie because that's not real life.  Maybe for some but are they being real?  Is it really possible? 

i have not yet had the privilege of being truly accepted with all my faults and imperfections- that unconditional love that comes first from parents - nope.  From a mother?  um, nope.  Parents are people first and they make mistakes but there are those that never bond, never fall in love with their children.  My mother had me when she was 19 years old and "had" to get married to a mean man who was my sperm doner.  All i remember of him is that he made my mother cry a lot, and he liked to hit.  I was forced to go with him on a few visitations which have left me forever with the fear of heights, (jump i'll catch you) and the memory of having to bring coffee cans filled with pennies to my mother (child support) and on another occasion a check written on toilet paper, also child support. I remember this because I made my mother cry when i gave it to her.  My father was a class. act.  and therein began my relationships with men.   But now i want to talk about my mother.....first.  yes, please imagine a heavy disgusted sigh because the only reason i'm opening this box of memories is because my therapist has suggested to me that my little bubble needs to be burst where my feelings about good old mom are concerned.

Therapy seems to think my life has been so busy with all the living i've been trying to keep up with, that i've lied to myself about being okay and having moved on with all the mother issues.  I personally called it making peace and not losing any more sleep over being completely and utterly abandoned by my mother at the age of 16 (well to be honest at birth although she was physically present) Therapy believes that because my children have flown the coop, my job is relatively secure and peaceful, and my living conditions are stable that time has chosen to bite me in the ass rather than reward me with peace.    Kind of like getting sick on vacation.  

So i'm going to begin writing a lot of things that will probably make me sick and might finally be purged.  I honestly don't know what the point of rehashing the past is, considering it's not going to be changed and certainly not fixed.  How much making peace with it do i need to do?  I've had all of the feelings already.  Doing it again makes very little sense to me but i like my therapist so i'm going to try it her way and try not to complain about it.

My mantra has always been "don't go back".  Once i've moved along i do it with a vengeance. But fuck it.  I'm game.  It's not like i'm being asked to go back to an ex.  Because that's where i draw the line, even if others don't.    If you have given birth to me, and had some responsibility in the making of my DNA and odd quirks, you may treat me poorly and i will work through it over and over and over again because it seem like the respectful thing to do.  There will definitely be too much information and there will be the implied eye rolls and heavy sighs. 

a lesson on impermanence

Memorial Day weekend usually finds us in New Hampshire with friends.  "We" being a group of our friends who all own a party house together, my boyfriend of 12 years and myself.  Through the years our activities have changed, but the underlying vibe is to hang out with good company, away from work and chores and electronics and just RELAX.  There is also almost always tag-sales and flea markets to stop in and check out.  This year was no different.

The whole field was covered with flea market tables, tents and vehicles.  As far as i could tell in a quick glance there was nothing there I was going to be interested in.  I have this horrible fear that I will become a hoarder, therefor I have a bad habit of throwing everything away- so what is the point in buying?  I do, however, collect Buddha's (and more recently elephants) both because they bring me joy.  Simple.  I bought my first Buddha years ago in West Virginia, believe it or not.  Since then he keeps popping up and i don't ignore things that keep popping up.  My rule is that if i find more than one, in a thrift store, antique shop, flea market- wherever, I can only take one.  I don't know why.  It feels wrong to me to take more than one.

Back to the flea market- I eventually found a table filled with the kind of items i like- an olive wood mortar and pestal being the first thing to slow me down to come see what else might be found here.  The people, an older couple, were smiling and friendly.  I liked them immediately.  Not that i like or dislike people immediately, i just don't normally "take" to perfect strangers within moments.  We got to talking, and they told me this was their first time trying to sell at a flea market. (I had commented that their prices were almost too low)  They were clearing out their house that they had lived in for almost 50 years because they were downsizing.  I told them i'd love to go shopping in their home.  She picked up an elephant that had been hand carved by a friend of theirs, his initials on the back.  It was meant to be- and i told her i had started collecting elephants and asked if she happened to have any Buddha's?  Her whole face lit up and she walked me down the table to show me a small framed starving Buddha that had been hand painted on a see through leaf.  It was gorgeous.  And it was affordable.  She told me when they had purchased their home all those years ago the woman who owned it previously had left them the Buddha as a housewarming gift.  She told me it was in a flat box and it had taken her years to finally find the "right" frame.  She was really happy it was going to someone who would appreciate it.  I love random connections with strangers like these.  

I left my booty in the vehicle when we returned to the house, not wanting to forget to bring it home. A little while later D and a few others decided they were going fishing and D drove his truck.  I thought nothing of it.  The next morning, when i came downstairs D approached me and said "you are going to kill me and i'm so sorry"........which is never a good way to start the day.  What could have possibly happened so early in the morning in New Hampshire?  Then he told me he had taken all our stuff out of the truck to make room for people to sit when the went to go fishing.  He had been in a hurry and had put everything under the parked truck next to his (that he knew wasn't going anywhere) to "protect" it until they returned, and he could put them back in the truck.

Well he forgot to put the items back in the truck.

One of our friends didn't look under the truck before he started it, and backed up over everything.

My Buddha was demolished.  The broken glass had shredded the leaf.  To say i was angry is an understatement.  I saw red.  This was a once in a lifetime find.  It could never be replaced.  And it had been left on the ground and run over.  For fishing.  I suggested to D that if he didn't smoke so much pot he probably wouldn't have put the stuff under a truck, and then forgotten it.  He knew enough to walk away as I tried not to blow my shit up. 

I was really in a rip.  I'm talking, furious.  And then all at once, I thought to myself "it's a thing.  just a thing.  And every thing is impermanent." I literally felt the anger lift out of my body.  Yes, it sucks that i didn't have it anymore but I had the experience of it.  There was no evil intent in D's actions, it had been a mistake.  So i let the anger go.  And I made sure D knew i was over it and I was not angry with him.  We carried on with the day and the rest of the weekend.

But that's not the point to this seemingly pointless blog.

While we were away my sister-in-law was taking care of our kitties, making sure they were fed and had clean water.  She had asked me if I minded her transplanting some of her plants into our flower bed and i had been more than happy to oblige her.  I didn't realize she was going to do it that weekend and it was a nice surprise to come home to a a pretty flower bed.  We entered the house with all our bags and weekend stuff and threw it on the kitchen floor to be dealt with later.  That's when i saw the three brass Buddhas sitting on my kitchen counter.

My brother in law (I call them in-laws because D and i have been together for 12 years and how does one identify the relatives of a spouse who minds well be married to you even if you both have NO desire to marry, anyone, period?) Anyways, my brother in law had found the three buddhas in his house, which used to be his grandmothers house.  They had been there for as long as he could remember, so a long time.  He polished them up (they fit into each other to stack) and left them for me.

So- three Buddha's instead of one, given to me instead of purchased.  All having a history, a personal story.  A lesson.

Drink this.

There is something i want/need to share with you- and i never thought i'd be excited about something like this but I am in awe right now over the seeming powers of Apple Cider Vinegar as a cure.

Around Christmas i began developing hives that rather than come and go (per usual) decided to stay and multiply.  The first appearance was on my chest, which is typical for me - and then spread over (and under) my breasts, ribs and stomach.  When they started showing up on my sides, reaching towards my back the man demanded that I go seek medical attention. I tried to go see my doctor (which is another blog in itself) and ended up instead at a walk in clinic where the "not really a doctor" who I like to refer to as "the health inspector" gingerly lifted my shirt and then ran (okay walked quickly) out of the room to go look up what he had seen on his computer.  I wish i had thought of that before walking in to pay someone a $50 copay to do what i could have done.  Anyways- diagnosis: I have a skin rash.  One that appears for reasons no-one is sure of and is not treatable, it just goes away in about 12 weeks.  It happens to women, usually in their 30's (I'm always behind the times) and it's not contagious or bacterial but might have been caused by a virus.  maybe.  

I can take Benedryl every 6 hours for the next 10ish weeks (fun!) or I can take Allegra which will help the itching, but neither will make the rash go away. This rash is so NOT pretty to look at and it sure doesn't feel comfortable. 

I'm a picker. and a itcher.  and a midnight bitcher.  I can't just sit and wait out an unknown rash on my body for 10 more weeks, so I get on that handy dandy internet thingy that the health inspector seemed to enjoy so much and start reading.  I wish i could say  trying the apple cider vinegar was my idea but it wasn't.

A friend (and co-worker) reminded me that she had taken the Bragg's Apple Cider Raw Vinegar with the mother to get rid of a skin irritation she had that the dermatologist couldn't help her get rid of. (he must had had the same browser)  I figured "what the hell, it can't hurt" so i went out and bought a bottle mildly grossed out with the slimy stuff at the bottom that is the absolute most important part of it all.  

Let me tell you- it does hurt.  It hurts like hell if you do what i did, which was slug a shot glass full of it down the back of my throat.  Do NOT do this.  Do not cut corners, or try to save time or "be brave". First of all, it does hurt, and then it makes you feel nauseous and it's really bad for your teeth (the enamel not the gritting). I know there are some tough guys out there that will want to just shoot it and i hope you think of me when you do.  Think of me laughing my ass off at you because friends don't say "i told you so".

Anyways-  Day one almost decided me to never do that again but i swear to you that when i woke up the next morning there was a difference.  Not a magical "all better" difference but a definite improvement.  Day two I added two tablespoons to a glass of room temperature spring water and drank that down. Much better. The measurement is a random choice due to no real prescribed amount that varies between 2 tsps daily to 2 tbsps before every meal, depending on what you are using it for and what website you are reading.  Two tablespoons sounds safe to me, once a day, probably forever more now that i've read about all the benefits and virtually zero side affects.

Here I am on day three of the great experiment and there is a noticeable improvement in the rash.  It still itches and it's still not pretty but the redness is duller and it appears less "angry" if that makes any sense to your imagination.  This morning I added cinnamon, a few drops of lemon juice and about a 1/2 tsp of pure maple syrup to my 2 tablespoons of ACV along with the bottle of spring water and it does in fact taste like i'm drinking a slice of apple pie - with a bite to it.  I found that in a youtube video for all the snobs that think youtube is just for people beneath them.  It's saving my tastebuds AND it's even healthier because Cinnamon has it's own healthy properties and this is a good way to incorporate it into a daily diet.  Also, and maybe most important- drink through a straw because just do. 

Yuck! I just wrote a blog about food kinda.  But it had that gross element of rashes and itching so it's okay, i haven't turned into the merry house-maker yet.  (ever)  

Have you been on the road long?

My new years resolution is literally to say "fuck off" more often. 

Fuck off to useless tasks, to worrying about situations that aren't mine to change, to owning other peoples emotions, to unrealistic expectations. Fuck off to explaining myself to anyone, fuck off to being patient, to feeling fat, to worrying about wrinkles.  FUCK OFF to  anyone who doesn't appreciate my humor, my questions, my interest or my attention.  Fuck off uncomfortable pants, painful shoes, hair dye, push up bra's and fake nails.  Fuck off boring movies, badly written books and cable television!   Angry, humorless, mean spirited people......fuck off.

I had a week off between Christmas and new years and i tried to jam seeing all my friends and family in that i haven't been able to spend time with because i waste so much time on stupid shit.

No more.

Fuck off anything that does not serve me, please me or need me. 

How's that for a resolution?   

Pieces

Is there a reason I should keep anyone I don't like, or even dislike in my life?  Can someone answer that for me?  One good reason is all i'm looking for because this seems to be a flaw of mine- this not associating with people I don't like (and who don't like me)  Yes, i'm an adult, yes, i am socially mature and can be in a room with someone I don't care for and not feel like i need to give them the short list of why they are distasteful to me, EVEN when alcohol may be involved.  I'm not a complete mutant.  Even if i did like you at one point and now no longer do.

It takes a lot for me to give up on someone.  Maybe it's because i'm flawed, and because i don't want to be abandoned because i'm not perfect. I have a really high tolerance for flawed individuals (translation "everyone")    "Perfect" people do not exist.  People who think they are perfect are the ones that I end up cutting loose - they make me uncomfortable, and the make me feel bad about myself- plus, they are no fun.  It's hard to be genuine when you are busy being perfect.  Making yourself vulnerable takes some humility and risk for mistakes.  Opening your heart to someone is extremely risky, and also, one of the great reasons for living.  

So what if not everyone knows that.  It's okay.  Someday the lightening bolt will strike and they will realize that all the acquiring and judging  and status seeking they have been taking part in and expecting to make them feel whole was not  the point.  Has never been the point.  Maybe there will be regret and that is also not the point and a huge waste of time better spent elsewhere.  To me, it's where they are at in their lives and for them it is right.  It is not my way, but that doesn't make it wrong- for them.  

I'm talking about very personal levels here, not global or even community.  I'm talking about me and you and that person over there.  

If you hurt me I don't forget it.  This is probably one of my greatest flaws.  It's not that I don't forgive, or move on.  I just never forget how I felt.  When a lot of those "i feel like shit around you" feelings build up they eventually add up to "I don't want you in my life".   My feelings are something i'm intimate with, I don't avoid them or lie about them or let them run wild without questioning them.  I search my soul and ask "why does this bother me?" and then- I move on.  

Sometimes someone will hit a nerve with me and I will identify almost immediately that it's not their fault i don't like them, it's my baggage.  Knowing this doesn't make it feel any nicer but at least I know I'm participating in the negative vibe- it's not that person alone.  Whew, and man do i have baggage.  Thing is, it's all neatly tagged so it's easy for me to identify.  That journey of identifying and tagging was unpleasant and completely necessary.  "mine, mine, mine.....nope, not owning that shit"  I'm very well aware when it's me and a lot of times, it is.  But not always.  

People who have been dismissed from my life, through their own actions have-

Abandoned me to fend for myself as a teenager- That's not mine.

Cut me out of their life because someone with more money made them choose - That's not mine.

Expected me to participate in their self destruction- That's not mine

Been aggressive and verbally abusive with me - That's not mine.

Hurt the people i love by constantly putting them down to elevate yourself - That's not mine.

That's actually a pretty short list to have acquired over my lifetime.  Maybe i'm not so flawed. huh.

I wish people who were constantly comparing themselves to others as a way to measure their own worth would take that journey as well.  Own your history and the part you played in it and make your choices based on what you want your future to be.  That is not a difficult concept.  The action.....that may be harder.  But the choice.  That's not hard.  

As long as we blame other people for our shitty feelings we are giving away any power we have over our own lives.  And that power is so limited as it is.  Why would anyone feel superior in blaming everyone else for how they feel?  It's such an oxymoron. 

When i've had enough of feeling like shit around you, i cut you loose.  I don't negotiate, I don't look back.  I move on.  And yes, it happens abruptly but i'm sure it's never a surprise.  It's a long time coming.  You know.  You can't not know.  I'm not referring to people who have grown out of my life, which is a naturally occurring phase with no hard feelings and often times quite pleasant memories.  I'm talking about removing someone like they are cancer cells. Because, to me, that's exactly what they are.  Maybe they are hearts and flowers to you and that's good for you.  To me, they are poison.  Bye Bye.  

50 Shades of oh please not again

The other day I found myself in yet another conversation about why I did not enjoy the first two 50 Shades of Grey books.  This old and tired topic keeps coming up even now, and  people seem so mystified that I thought the books were utter shit.  Utter.  Shit. (Just in case i need to make my opinion any clearer.)  I think the majority of people are aware of what the stories are about even if they haven't suffered through reading them.  And i did try.  I read the first one and thought "okay, that was really bad" and then i reasoned with myself "but everyone loves this, maybe i should try the second book" which i did, and that's when i said "this is the reason you hate reading books everyone else loves" because then i feel like the odd man out, hating what everyone loves. What is wrong with me?  Why don't i like this?  It just brings up all my insecurities.........no.....really.  Please insert a dramatic eye roll here.  I could care less if everyone is reading this crap.  Everyone except maybe young impressionable/gullible women. 

I hate the books because of the abuse. I'm referring to the emotional mind fuck that everyone seems so intent on calling "love".  Nothing like a  young  woman getting involved with an older damaged male (who happens to have a butt ton of money which makes everything excusable) who just needs her love to "change him".  If you have ever been in, or know someone who has been in an abusive relationship- you aren't going to find these books entertaining.  I read this young woman's article and so much of it had me yelling "Yes!" that i have to share it here and i would like you to read it before arguing further with me about how wonderful these books are. 

5 Reasons "Jessica Jones" Is Way Darker Than You Realize

 This isn't to say I don't enjoy a  well timed slap on the ass - I mean, who doesn't? 

 

This rant isn't about me passing judgement on what you or anyone else does in privacy (or public if that's your thang).  I'm all about two or more consenting adults doing whatever rocks their world.  Have at it.  What i take offense to, and what i'm so concerned about is the mass production of shitty books that have women everywhere mooning over a damaged, abusive male who is "saved" by the love of a woman.  That's not a healthy, or real situation to be promoting for the next generation.  If you are a grown ass woman and you feel like this is entertainment, fine.  You have the life experience to tell you that this is FICTION and that in no way would this shit fly in real life without damaging results.  But these younger women coming up behind us?  The ones we are supposed to be setting an example for, and giving a leg up to?  This is our gift to them?  "Here, read this!  It's SOOO romantic!!" No. No.NO. This isn't what we aspire to ladies.  

The one positive thing i have to say is that I did laugh at her internal dialog.  The one that should have screamed at her to get a restraining order and go date a nice boy who had a gun license. Wait that's a different blog.  Anyways, go date and fall in love with a non-fucked up male who you don't have to #1. Fix or #2. Raise. 

Do you want to read books about S & M? You like the bondage scene? Well read something that is actually well written and responsible. I have recommendations for you.  

Come on, don't act shocked- I think we are past that.  Ask me about the time I went to the bondage club with my Bestie and turns out we were the only women there (aside from the Mistress's)....that might be a bit shocking, but no more than attending a huge conference on the scene with every type of player you can imagine.... Or the hundreds of hours I spent interviewing Dom's and Sub's alike both in person and online.   I'm no newbie to this topic.  No i'm not involved, I find it way TOO involved -but i have a tendency to obsess on topics that interest me and there was a time that this did.  In other words, I know of what I speak.  Write. you know what i mean.

 So.  Recommendations -  "The Story of O" of course!  Classic.  Also, my personal favorites are in the Beauty Series written by Anne Rice under the pseudonym  A. N. Roquelaure.  I preferred Rice's stories because they are fantasy rather than reality based.  I understand the interest The Grey books generated- Many women, people, eventually foray into this world of Doms and Subs out of pure curiosity or boredom (hey ~waving wildly~)  if they haven't been driven there by need.  However, there are layers in the lifestyle that are lacking in the Grey books, layers that i found dangerous and reckless to leave out. Calling these good books is similar to calling Bugs Bunny cartoons Oscar material.   The true beauty of the scene is in the structure and ritual that supports it.   Like Opera, it's an acquired taste and you should probably know what you are getting into before you have a seat.  It's much more satisfying, and responsible- to have real knowledge on the topic before you going buying a season pass.  That's all i'm saying.  Again.  and Again.