nirvana.
rooting through the lives of people who used to be in your own life, and digging up your emotional discarded baggage in large doses is never a good idea. you end up finding things that piss you off, annoy you, or make you want to send bitter, bitchy emails.
well, *i* do anyway. in order to avoid doing the latter (because i haven't done it in a long time, and i'm working on creating better habits when i'm feeling self destructive), i'm going to f-ing blog my annoyance away.
hopefully.
i don't understand how people who are heartless, psychopathic, co-dependent, and manipulative have the privilege of moving on with their lives, finding happiness, and having someone who can deal with them on a daily basis. i've finally gotten past most of the damage that i allowed my ex-boyfriends to inflict upon me, and the three last culprits seem to be perky, fulfilled, and expecting a kid, apparently.
i don't talk to any of these jackasses anymore because, after all, they are jackasses. one is a habitual cheater and only breaks up with someone when he's found a replacement. he's been single a total of nine months in 18 years. no exaggeration.
this is the charmer who cheated on his wife with me, and actually referred to me as his "crowbar", allowing him "out" when he no longer to be in a relationship.
awesome. that term is from a fiona apple song, from an album that we used to listen to incessantly, and looking back, i can't believe that i wasn't completely offended and disgusted that that was how, and what, he thought of me. pathetic.
so, the second winner is the psycho ex who did everything possible to tear me down, cheat on me with anything with a pulse and a vagina (a pulse may not have been necessary, come to think of it), mock every relationship i had with my family and friends, and destroy whatever self worth and dignity i had.
i was STUPID enough to move to california with him, but it was actually an escape from the cheater because he broke my heart somewhere in there, and i just needed to run away. i knew in my gut that leaving the state with a psycho because of a cheater wasn't the best idea i ever had, but it was a quick solution and i figured i could deal with the fallout later.
that gem is now with some girl who is exactly his type: brunette, sporty, bordering on butch, from the east coast, loves volleyball...because i was so often reminded that i was exactly *not* his type...for six and a half years. um, remind me again *why* you wanted to be with me...
my one consolation on the psycho's new girlfriend is that she is fuuuuug-ly. to be fair, i'd own up if she were cute, but seriously, she's not. in his FB profile pic he's hugging her, and at first i thought she was a man, or a transvestite at the very least. i looked at her pic on her page, and it's not much better: a chubby transvestite with a double chin.
the last in the triumvirate is someone that i only really "dated" for a month. after breaking up, we didn't talk for about nine months until i accidentally (really, i wasn't looking for him at all. gotta love gmail's address book) found him on FB.
gotta love FB.
being the bored stalker that i can be at times, i saw on his sister's page (because he's too closed off and secretive to have a page any longer) that not only was he in town overnight on my birthday, he visited his sister, TEXTED me to say happy birthday, and then wrote me this long, elaborate email saying that i'm a "phenomenal person and deserve to be happy" and that he'll "always care for me on a different level than anyone else."
is that a good thing?
being the masochistic dumb ass that i was at the time (a whopping four months and fourteen days ago, but who's counting?), and *trusting* that i could take him at his word (maybe just really wanting to take him at his word) despite the fact that he's the biggest flake i think i've ever met, i replied and we talked about fixing things between us, having a future, blah blah blah.
in the span of two days, he pulled his old disappearing act. i can attribute this to the fact that i'm pretty sure he's an alcoholic, he was raised a jehovah's witness, and he's under 30 years old.
everything out of his mouth from that point on became blah blah blah.
then i saw today that he was in town on valentine's day for a two hour layover between flights, and he went to his sister's work, spent two hours with her, and then drove back to the airport.
(insert ditzy, valley girl voice here) "wow, like he's the best!"
i'm over all these retards. i'm not trying to offend anyone, but i can't think of them as being anything other a derogatory, insulting name. plus, my dad reads this, so i try to keep it clean. what i'd really like to call them is a four-syllable word, rhymes with brothersucker. i don't even want to be friends with these dudes. i'm just frustrated that i put up with so much shit for so many years, and yet i can't find a decent, sane, cute man with some semblance of hair, in dallas.
i started dating the co-dependent cheater in 1997!!! and didn't end things with him until 2007. the psycho lasted from 1999 until 2006. yes, i've done the math. there's an overlap with the two, but the nine months that i wasn't with the psycho, i was busy with the cheater, helping him end his marriage. and no, i didn't cheat on either of them...ever.
yay, me.
the alcoholic has been messing with my mind since july 2008, and i haven't talked to him since october. still, a month-long relationship that dragged on for over two years, and something tells me he'll pop up at some point in the next year.
i ask you WTF is wrong with me? on second thought, don't answer.
i feel like i'm in a much better place emotionally and mentally, after *lots* of work...now, if i could just get my body to stop falling the hell apart. however, according to the therapist i talked to today, it's not uncommon for someone to get their mental health in order and then have their body go to hell in a hand basket. that's a good thing for me because if i was having "chronic pain" the way i am now when i was dredging through my last horrific, suicidal bout of depression, this kitty cat wouldn't have made it through the fire.
basically, the body exists in a survival mode while you're losing your mind so that you don't go completely off the hook, and throw yourself off a bridge. then, when you think everything is aces, your body says, "hey, the mind's good! commence self-destruction of anatomy in 5...4...3...2...1...POW!"
i guess i'm in a state of repair (does it *ever* end?), working really hard to get everything in order, discard all the baggage, and get my body to a fully functioning state again. the above mentioned dudes don't have much of an interest in emotional reflection or growth, and i've known them long enough, and well enough, to know that they don't really want to change. why would they? what they do has been working for them for years (thank you, current therapist who shall remain nameless).
obviously, the choices i've made have *not* worked for me in the least, and i'm determined to get out of this never-ending recycling of boyfriends and bad relationships. the alcoholic was the last fragment hanging on. it's ironic because the proverbial "they" say that a girl models her romantic relationships on her father, but that's not at all the case with me.
i grew up with an unpredictable, unstable, emotionally toxic mother whose love i wanted so desperately, i'd do anything to please her. she built up a world in which it was the two of us against the world, and no one else could be relied upon or trusted. when i decided that i had my own opinions, interests, and personality, things fell apart, and she decided that i no longer served her purposes and actively sought a replacement...many replacements, actually.
i think my relationships with guys, these three in particular, are similar to the one with my mom. once i figured out that i deserved more, and better, because i'm willing and capable to give it, i had to walk away...slowly, reluctantly, and with many backward glances.
it may have taken having that lesson slammed in my face repeatedly, and i really didn't even make the connection until a few months ago (thank you, current therapist who shall remain nameless). i think i've subjected myself to more self-inflicted pain, misery, and reflection than the average bear, but it took over 22 years to really break away from my relationship with my mom and decide that it wasn't healthy for me at this point in my life.
despite being smart, there are some things that i seem to refuse to give up on. i have given people chance upon chance to redeem themselves because i want them in my life, and want so badly to prove that i'm worthwhile.
just another lesson learned from mom...
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