oh well, whatever, never mind

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...

"...and laugh at gilded butterflies..."

i really hadn't planned on writing today. i mean, i want to maintain the consistency of it, but i've been really pensive and recuperating. i'm emotionally drained and frustrated with the reality and inconvenience of being in unrelenting pain from the simplest of tasks.

just sitting up all day yesterday, with some standing and walking here and there, caused me to get no sleep last night because i felt like my body was full of broken glass, my head, neck, and shoulders were torn up, and i was completely miserable.

after seeing to my therapist yesterday, i spent some time thinking about what i've accomplished in the last 10 or 11 months. a significant anniversary (dubious, not happy) is coming up this weekend. i'm not going to discuss that now, but i will in the next few days because it's very revealing and difficult for me, and is what *forced* me to ask for help. without that request, i would, quite literally, have been dead by now.

anyway, i've been spending this year trying to work through a lot of my issues and unburden myself of past drama and trauma. hey, that rhymed.

it's been a very trying and difficult year in many ways, lots of changes, lots of trying new habits, lots of discarding old habits, lots of digging into my psyche, lots of letting go, but also lots of grabbing on to things that are good, valid, and healthy.

i've made a lot of progress, and according to my therapist, i've really put her to work, which is what i told her i would do. when i met her in january, i vowed that i was ready to get my shit together. i wanted her to be unrelenting, and to push me as much as was needed to help me get to where i want, and need, to be.

because i can't go back to where i was before.

she said that i was very determined, and that i stood up for myself and for my treatment. i demanded to be helped, a major accomplishment for me. i'm not one to ask for help. in the past, asking for, and receiving, help had a price: a taunting, unrelenting, vicious slap in the face as its repercussion.

in order to continue my progress in hopes of never looking back, i think i need to spend the next seven months focusing on myself and what i need to do, and not focus on what others want me to do. most of my problems have centered around my relationships (mostly with men), and how i learned to behave and react in the world.

i have had this ingrained goal (no, a destructive obsession), to please everyone else, regardless of whether it was the best thing for me, or even what i wanted. this needs to stop, and it very rapidly is grinding to a halt.

what i learned growing up, and in my primary relationship, needs to continue to be phased out, because it colors and controls every action i've made. i take full responsibility for what i've done, but it's now up to me to learn how to be *my own* person, not a puppet, not the vicarious reason for someone else's existence. this may not make any sense to you, but it does to me.

i haven't really been involved with a guy since july, and i think spending the next seven months (a year in total) on me, school, studying for exams, and figuring out who i am now and what i want is the best thing. a year of drama-free, boy-less non-action is what i need. a year to phase out the frenemies and emotional vampires that will suck me dry, if i let them.

i know that i've improved my communication skills, have strengthened my boundaries while knocking down my walls, and have made huge strides in my relationship with my dad, probably the most important one in my life at this point.

i want to make him proud, and myself, too. i want to find the path to being the strong, independent, focused, loving person that i think someone tried to guide me to all those years ago.

that path was lost somewhere along the way. i want to believe in myself, to live with joy and self-respect, in a world full of promise, rather than regret.

i hope i can find the way...

what happens when i forget to bring a book

i've been thinking about death a lot the past few days. i'm not saying that to be morbid or creepy, i've just been thinking about what really happens when you die, and realizing my own short mortality, i guess.

i was sitting in a lobby today, next to a woman, and for some reason, as i was looking at the back of her neck, i thought about how each person is a creation, a machine, all its own. the fact that we are comprised of billions upon billions of cells that work together to form one working organism is amazing.

i've been fascinated with the brain for a long time, in part because mine seems to be screwy when it comes to chemical composition and distribution, but also because it determines so much of who we are and how we act. the fact that our personalities, via our brains, determine our responses, actions, reactions? that, my friend, is why i majored in psychology.

i talked to my sister jennifer today, and she said something about our youngest sister, and how she will be lost when our dad dies. that is a thought that i can barely approach without getting upset, because i don't know what i'll do when he dies. i push it away whenever it creeps in.

not to be fatalistic, but to be realistic, no one lives forever. my dad means the world to me, and it's taken a long time for us to get where we are, and for me to realize and appreciate all of his good qualities. to lose him would be the greatest loss of my life, and one i can't comprehend.

when i was looking at that woman's neck, i thought about all of the natural growth and progression of her physical form as she has aged, the freckles and the way little chicken fluff hairs had escaped from her ponytail.

and how someday, she will die, and those freckles will fade, her hair will disintegrate, as will the rest of her, as the machine that is her body comes to a grinding halt.

this is what i was thinking about when i was waiting in line today.

this is why i always take a book...

ADD?

so, i've been thinking all day about what i want to write about, and i cannot keep one train of thought for more than two minutes, which has led me to wonder if i have adult onset ADD (attention deficit disorder), which led me to look at the symptoms, and further my distractions.

my findings were a little disturbing. you need to have at least 15 of the symptoms to be diagnosed, and i have a fair share. i would've counted them, but i didn't have the patience to do so (not a good sign).

while i'm looking up the disorder, i'm also writing this blog, when in actuality i sat down at my desk to grade papers, and within the next 10 minutes, i'll get up again to do *something*, *anything* to keep me from sitting in one place and only working on one project.

here are a few streams of thought from today:

- wow, obviously almost a new moon because people are acting like assholes.
- people are driving like maniacs.
- why didn't i get any mail today? did the mailman even come; because i didn't see his truck?
- grayson is going to be bigger than phoenix soon. that's going to be a problem.
- i wish i hadn't cut my bangs over the summer because they're driving me crazy now.
- do i really like the christmas cards i'm making? are they too boring?
- do i feel like i have a sinus headache because of my allergies, or because of my meds?
- why does the big walmart carry edamame, but the grocery store version doesn't? and why the hell am i shopping at walmart now?
- i need to stop procrastinating my reading for school.
- i'm never going to find anyone to spend my life with because i'm a handful: tattoos, phd, independent. i'm screwed.
- why does the ten club keep posting tempting things and then sell out in 5 minutes?
- there is a *lot* of sex in "true blood". sex would be nice.
- i'm craving salt.

granted, none of these are supremely interesting internal conversations, but each of these ran through my head, usually more than one at the same time. i've also been doing almost anything i can think of to avoid studying/reading for my exams.

- i've almost finished my christmas shopping; unheard of!
- i've got my christmas card list done.
- i'm *making* christmas cards.
- i already have my dad's birthday present ready.
- i took pictures on my laptop with my kids.
- i've been organizing my itunes.
- i cleaned my entire apartment last friday, instead of reading.

in addition to all this craziness, i also can't listen to any cd in its entirety; my ipod is constantly on shuffle. i haven't watched a movie at home in months because i can't sit through the whole thing, and i constantly have at least 3 things going on at once. even when i'm in the middle of doing something, i'm thinking of something else i could be doing, too.

so i make lists. there are about five lists on my desk, not to mention my phone, my planner, and the refrigerator door.

when i'm not writing lists, this is what my life looks like: i'm writing this blog, grading, and wondering if hulu has the next episodes of "true blood" that i want to watch. hulu only has clips, so i have to do a search to find free episodes to watch online because i can't wait 4 days to get the next dvd from netflix. oh, and my itunes is playing a song from "romeo and juliet", i wonder if i should watch titanic. no, not the same movie, but i went from leonardo dicaprio in r&j to him in titanic. i don't think i could sit still that long. plus, i'd have to get the dvds out, and set up the tv to watch it. and about my itunes, are there any new cds i want to download? i really want the new fistful of mercy, but i put the vinyl edition on my amazon wishlist, and i'm not sure if i'm going to get it. but if i have the vinyl, i can only listen to it at home, but i *do* have the software to convert an album to a cd. i'd have to find that software, install it, hook up my laptop to the stereo; what a pain. and why don't i watch that much tv anymore? i love tv, but it just isn't interesting to me. i can't think of anything else that is, other than reading magazines because i only have to focus for 5 minutes at a time, tops.

this could keep going for days, people. this is why i have to have the tv on when i go to bed: to drown out the f-ing voices in my head that won't let me get a moment's peace without making a list, thinking of a project, checking a book to see if my astrological sign matches someone i just met, looking at my planner to make sure i wrote down everything i need to do tomorrow.

needless to say, this is exhausting.

it's just a broken heart

despite what you may think, i'm pretty particular about what i listen to (i think), but i also have a varied taste in music. for the past week, i've been running to taylor swift's new cd. now i realize that i'm not 14, but it's a guilty pleasure and it keeps me moving. her songs are all about good relationships gone bad, stupid choices (hello, john mayer), regret; all things i can identify with.

my musical taste does tend to gravitate toward the depressing love song; songs about ended relationships, betrayal, regret, "why didn't this work out", "why did you leave me", "i have to leave you, it's for the best". ya know, the brokenhearted variety. apparently, this is a genetic trait, as my dad listens to the same uplifting genre.

which made me wonder why pearl jam (yep, they're back) and their music mean so much to me. they don't really do a lot of "relationship" songs, not like the kind i was referring to. i'd say that they write a lot of songs that are "emotional", but they're about emotional pain; anger, abuse, loneliness. again, things with which i can identify.

the first pearl jam song that got me was "black". i had heard "alive", "jeremy" (hell, the kid who they based the song on went to a high school in my district and i remember when it happened), but those songs really didn't click. but "black", how could you *not* love this?





aw, young ed...what passion, what a voice. yes, he's beautiful, too. totally beside the point.

it wasn't until i heard "black", a song about a relationship that has ended, and the pain, loss, and regret that the singer feels, that i got the tape (remember those?) and literally sat for hours on my best friend deirdre's bed, trying to figure out the freaking lyrics.

because ed wouldn't be ed if he made anything less than challenging, especially when it comes to his personal experiences.

i listened to that song over and over, and my freshman year of college, i even had the lines
"i know someday you'll have a beautiful life, i know you'll be a star in someone else's sky. why can't it be mine?"
written in chalk on my wall.

my roommate probably thought i was nuts, but it was there for a reason, and for a person: the first person that i really and truly loved. he was, to date, the best boyfriend i've had, and when your best relationship happens at 18 years old, you, my friend, are fucked.

so, despite fact that the majority of pearl jam's lyrics aren't about lost love, they *are* about the human condition, and the struggles that (apparently) a lot of people feel. because i'm not sitting alone in those arenas, stadiums, and theaters. i definitely wasn't alone at madison square garden last may, with tens of thousands of people screaming and singing louder than the band.

i did a project about pearl jam for one of my classes, a storytelling project, and i had to interview 25 people and ask them 25 questions.

question #25 was this:

Which of these words, if any, have led you to Pearl Jam’s music because you can relate to these things and/or have experience with them: pain (emotional or physical or both), feeling like an outsider or misunderstood, dissatisfied, hopeless, alone, seeking a connection?

without question, all 25 people picked almost all of them.

so i'm not alone.

while love may have led me to pearl jam (and has kept me around), pain, dissatisfaction, and feelings of being misunderstood have kept me here, even though i'm part of a community that welcomes me with open arms. in that, i feel a connection.

elsewhere? that's a different story.

it's a mr. bubble kind of night

i'm soooo tired, so i probably won't write much, but i wanted to post that i'm doing much better. i feel okay today, emotionally and mentally, but my body is killing me. i ran about 2 and a half miles yesterday, and almost 3 miles today (plus arms), and i'm feeling it.

i also saw my therapist, and as i tend to do when i'm ready to work something out, i got through a crapload of mental garbage in my session today.

it was a beautiful, cool morning and it rained this afternoon. both good things. i'm trying to appreciate and realize the positives, and the little things, as much as i can. i had a good hair day, i got good news about those freaking medical bills, i got some laundry done, and i have a whole bunch of good stuff to watch on my dvr.

even though i've been struggling, i'm doing what i need to do: self care, socializing, not isolating, studying, working, getting up at 7 every day and not stopping till 9 at night. i will get through this; i feel hopeful, which is the best thing i can possibly feel.

and thanks to my daddy, who is always there for me, listens *any* time i need to talk, and more than makes up for being two parents in one. thank you, also, to my friends who have reached out to me, offered support, and helped me to feel less alone.

i'm going to take a hot bath, read a trashy magazine, and curl up in my chair.

a disclaimer, if you will...

before you read any further, i want to explain my sense of humor in the name of clarity and in order to avoid offending people. i have a *very* dry, sarcastic sense of humor, legitimately inherited from my father. just ask my dad(dy).

it's almost impossible to offend me, but i don't want to offend anyone else as i'm doing this for my own selfish, therapeutic purposes. if you like what i write, please read. if not, i wish you well. : )