Out with the Old and in with the Right Now (warning to family: I talk about sex)

(Alternative Title: In Which I Appear to be a Slut)

I broke up with Murdoch.I actually called him this time. Twice. Because of course he wasn't going to answer his phone. So I called and left a message. I later emailed him one of those terrible emails you send to someone you break up with. You start out saying that you don't understand how you can miss the person and you end up figuring out just what an asshole that person really is. His immediate reaction to my panic attacks/nervous breakdown was "we should take some time apart". Some time apart my ass.

But that isn't important. The day after I dumped him, I called Guitar Hero*, the guy I went to the lake with. We went to lunch that afternoon and he sounded a bit bitter. Apparently the dating scene has not been good to him. Later that evening, he called me up to see what I was doing and asked if I wanted company. I figured "fuck it, why not" and he came over. We drank some beer and sat on my patio and bullshitted back and forth. It was companionable and nice. He stayed over to avoid drunk driving but there was no hanky panky. He did seem less bitter though.

And I saw him again Wednesday. This would be our fourth time hanging out and I shit you not, he actually texted me and said that he hadn't liked the date he'd been on the night before and wouldn't be seeing her again. OK, that doesn't seem odd so I should have held off on the "I shit you not" part until here: he then asked if he could ask me a bold question about what he'd been wondering and I said go for it and he said he wondered if we were sexually compatible and would I be open to trying that tonight.

Right? So I said what any girl in my position (just dumped my boyfriend, whom I had not seen since August 14th when I picked up the cat and who was an utter dick) would say: "Bring condoms."

The rest of the day there was a bunch of back and forth about what do you like sexually and this and that and I'm not going to get into it because although I know I do the TMI thing (fuck you, it's my blog), I do have some limits. At one point I asked if he would bring me some cheap flowers or something just to make it feel a little less clinical/instructive, and he said sure and he brought me some Bethlehem Stars, flowers I've never received before. They're lovely and smell like summer time.

We drank and hung out for awhile before getting down to business. I was so incredibly nervous. I told Tits (who I'd been treating as my Twitter feed all day) that it was like I was 17 and going to prom and worrying about what my boyfriend's expectations were. But in the end, it worked out fine. I'll only say two things about the sex itself:

1. These East Texas boys really know what they were doing. One of my regrets about Murdoch was that the sex was so good. GH to the rescue; and
2. Tits was right. One of the fastest ways to get over someone is to get under somebody else.

So I'm a four date girl these days I guess. I think I'd hung out with Murdoch four times as well before we had at it. GH and I have made it clear to one another that we aren't committing to any form of serious relationship (aren't we just so modern) and are, as he put it "going to just hang out and satisfy the hell out of one another maybe a few times a week." I guess the term is friends with benefits (or for the more conservative of you, a guy and a slut) but it works fine for me. I don't want a real relationship, not yet, not after my last one. And I don't see GH and I being anything serious ever. I think in the end we'll just be friends (sans benefits).

I do still miss Murdoch sometimes, as much as I hate to say that. He wasn't all bad. But thinking back, I'm not stunned at my behavior, jumping into bed with a new guy so seemingly soon. Like I said, I hadn't seen Murdoch since 8/14 and that was just to pick up the cat. We had a huge fight that night and although we made it up, he barely spoke to me until he just totally jetted. The last time I hung out with him at all properly was 8/10. Going so long without speaking to me. Being fine without any contact at all. Text only communication. Maybe see him for three hours once a week. What kind of relationship is that? The sort I want to avoid ever having again. That's the nice thing about GH. We are both figuring out what exactly we want and we are figuring out who is going to give it to us. In the meantime, we have each other for company and for biological needs (Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs anyone?) 

That and, like I said, the raise those boys right in East Texas.   

*He plays guitar and is really into heavy metal music, something I am familiar with from my old married lady days. Thus, Guitar Hero.

Wow, Life Just Gets Better

First, for those who are nosy and want to know, no, I've not heard from Murdoch. I emailed him twice last night. First I emailed questions about Bubbles to make sure I can take care of her properly (how old is she, does she eat people food, when was she last seen by a vet). Then I emailed him and told him that I'm, obviously, waiting for him to break up with me. The gist of it was that I won't think him a villain or anything but if he is going to break up with me, just do it. I've got a lot going for me and I'm going to be happy no matter what, with someone who adores me as I adore them.

I emailed my mother last night about what happened. She responded and I burst into tears. She called me her "bright star child" and was just lovely.

This morning I forwarded that email to Tits. She asked if I'd received anything in the mail from her. I'm terrible about checking my mail but I went out and got it. It is a beautiful, multi colored scarf that she made. She was going to wait but felt I needed a hug from Ohio. She was right. She included a card that is on my vision board. I wrote out my mother's email and taped it above said board.

I also got an email from Austin, my college friend who I have not seen in about a decade. We've been meaning to meet up every since I moved to Texas but never have. He emailed me his number, asking that I call him or give him my number. He also told me that it was hard reading my last post and that he was thinking of me.

I called him and we made tentative arrangements. I told him I appreciated his sentiment about my post. He said that I had his number now, that he hoped he'd be counted amongst those who care about me, those who are in my corner. I can call him and he'll drop everything. I thanked him, started crying, told him I hoped I'd never have to but that I appreciated it.

It's almost as though the minute my feelings of worthlessness disappeared, I let the love in. I have people who love me, care for me, want to be there for me. I don't have to go through anything on my own, ever. Why I ever thought I did, I don't know. Self esteem issues, fear. That sort of thing. But I'm loved. I'm LOVED. And I'm so very grateful.

My mother said she never understood my taste in men but that she did get it. I want to "fix" people. I don't feel worthy enough to be with someone who cherishes me. I told her she was wrong, that I just went with the men who approached me. I don't want to fix anyone but I want to love them, care for them, be there for them so they never feel they need to go through it alone. What I forgot, or what I never did, was ask for it in return. That's changed. I still want to love, care for, be there for, whomever I end up with. But I want the same in return. Reciprocity. I want a shared life. And I'm not going to settle. Never. Never again.

I'm brimming with happiness, which means I'm weeping my eyes out because I'm just so overcome by this realization. And it isn't about regretting all those years of pain I suffered, all those years of feeling alone and thinking I had to go it alone. It's about the here and now, where I am so loved and cared about and my feeling it for the first time.

I am my mother's bright star child. I am Tits' friend, and she loves me, loves me enough to send me a scarf she made herself with a card to tell me that she thinks about me and cares about me everyday. I am Austin's friend, who will drop everything if I call him. I am Simply a Girl who is loved, truly loved. And I'm no longer a solitary girl in pain. I am Simply a Girl who is happy and reveling in a life yet to be lived with a sudden entrance into glorious Technicolor. Every day the colors get deeper, more saturated. Feelings are intensified in the best of ways. I've never been happier and I weep with the joy of it because it's been a long time in coming.

And all I can do is say thank you. Thank you to all those who love me and care about me. All those who root for me and are in my corner. It may seem a small thing, but it matters so much. I only hope I can return the favor one day, to all of you.  

Panic and Transformation

This will, possibly, be the most honest post I ever write. If you know me (e.g., if you are related to me or know my mother), you may not want to read it. If you do read it AND you know my mother, please don't share it with her.

Over the last few weeks I realized that I have generalized anxiety. I always thought my anxiety was based on situation. The first time I was given a medication, it was Ativan and it was when J and I were getting ready to move to Ohio. We were leaving our homes, going some place with no money coming in until the end of October (when he would get his first stipend), and we'd been told he probably had lymphoma. We wouldn't have paycheck until October and we were moving July 31. That was the actual day we were told, no, the day before, that he probably had lymphoma.

He didn't but the stress was immense so my GP gave me an anxiety medication when I asked for coping mechanisms. The next time I was given something it was Klonopin, which is hard core. I'd just been diagnosed with MS and separated from my husband and my work situation sucked. My stress levels were at their limit. Situation. Anxiety.

I didn't realize that the weird panicky feelings I got on a daily basis weren't normal. One day, after moving to Texas, I realized the leasing office was closed so I couldn't get my laundry card. "Fuck. I'll have to get it tomorrow after work. I'll have to leave a bit early to make sure I get there in time". I panicked the entire way there. Over a laundry card. I thought that was just how I was.

On Wednesday it finally hit me. I have anxiety and I can take a medication to make it better. Instead of feeling relieved, I was thrown back to the place I was in my early 20's, when my Bipolar was still undiagnosed. I was thrown back to ten years ago August, a few months before I would be diagnosed. The time when I was writing suicide note after suicide note, never getting it right and so I couldn't go through with it. I couldn't kill myself until I made damned sure everyone in my life would know it wasn't their fault, they hadn't contributed, they couldn't have prevented it.

I spent years being mad. Living in the blackest and scariest of caves that I couldn't escape because the alternative was the blinding whiteness of the other form of pain awaiting me at the entrance. The self hatred, the physical pain in my limbs and my chest, the hell, the utter fucking hell that was my life for so long.

And one day I realized that I had a problem that could be treated and I got help. I was diagnosed on Halloween 2003. I got really good about taking my meds when I was 25. The horror went away.

I should have been relieved to know that the panic and anxiety could be treated but instead, I was thrown back to those horrible days and I panicked. I had, what I assume, is a panic attack. I cut myself. For the first time in a long time, I cut myself. Then I did a google search and called a criss hotline. A nice girl talked to me and helped me, recommended another hotline should I need to call again.

I did the next day, almost immediately after work. I talked to a gentleman named John Paul. I kept thinking he was trying to locate me so he could send police or men with white coats so I let him know I had no plans of taking my life, that I have pets that I couldn't abandon like that. But he just talked to me and told me I had no reason to apologize... because I kept apologizing. I just wanted it to stop, these terrible thoughts, this terrible fear. I kept saying "I don't want to go back to that.".

Then I called Tits, who I've known for less than a year but who knows me the best. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked. I asked her, between sobs, to just tell me about her day, to talk about normal shit. When she was done and I was calm she asked me again what was going on and I told her.

She was the one to tell me that I was never going back to that place because the only way that would happen is if I stopped taking my medication, which I will NEVER FUCKING DO. She reminded me of how far I've come, how healthy I am, how strong. She didn't invalidate my fear, she just helped me.

I emailed Murdoch and told him what happened. His response was that he was concerned and that we should take some time apart, that he was sure he was part of my recent unhappiness. That he had to think about his kids. Cutting is serious and he can't expose his kids to that.

I haven't heard much from him, although I've emailed him since. But since those days, something has happened, some strange transformation. It's as though all my chemicals balanced out and my brain just said "Fuck this shit. You aren't worthless. So what if shit doesn't work out with Murdoch? You are a pretty girl, you are smart, you are funny. You have a lot of love and joy that you are just dying to give and someone out there is going to want that and they are going to want to give it back."

I have a confidence I've never felt before. I don't feel worthless anymore. I'm actually happy. Maybe Murdoch dumps me, maybe he doesn't. But I won't be devastated the way I would have should he have done it before my panic attacks. Instead, I think I had an emotional growth spurt, or maybe I just finally clawed my way out and found myself. I may not be special or spectacular, but I am damned well as worthy as the next person and I am NEVER going back to those days. NEVER.

Full disclosure, I am kind of weeping as I write this, but only because I can't talk about it or write about it or think about it without feeling what I went through and feeling so sad for all those years spent in pain. But the best of my life is just beginning and I've never felt better in my life. I did things differently this time. I didn't just go crazy and hide. I called a crisis hotline, the first time I have ever done something like that. I did it two days in a row. And I told two people who actually know me. No sitting in my bedroom, clutching my stuffed cow and rocking back and forth, trying to be so quiet no one would know. I reached out immediately after cutting myself because some part of me knew I didn't have to go back there and I didn't want to.

Maybe Murdoch handled it badly. Maybe he's just being a father. Maybe he's wanted to take a break for awhile.

All I know is that it doesn't hurt like it would have. Because I know who I am and I know that I am worthy. And I know I have a lifetime of happiness just waiting for me. It hurt. It was terrifying. I went to depths I didn't know existed but I came the fuck through.

And even though it hurt like eight bitches in a bitch boat, I have to be grateful. Without it, maybe I wouldn't be here. 

Bubbles

Internet, meet Bubbles, Bubbles, meet internet.

Yep, I got a cat. Murdoch got Bubbles years ago, I think to have a cat for his daughter during her visitation. She has her own cat, Merlin, who she's had for awhile. When Murdoch moved back to the family home after the ex split, Bubbles hid a lot. Then she evidently became a mean girl and bullied and hissed at Merlin. Murdoch couldn't, obviously, get rid of Merlin because his daughter loves him and Murdoch isn't a dick, so Bubbles had to go. He said he was going to drop her off on the side of the road but I have a feeling he would have taken her to a shelter. Either way, she was likely a goner. So I said I'd take her.

I'm glad I did. For one thing, I've been dying to help Murdoch out in some way. I know he's super stressed a lot and I never know what I can do. So even though he could have gotten rid of her in other ways, I was happy to take her off his hands and make it easier for him. For two, I like cats and I know Bubbles. I didn't like the idea of her being put in a field or killed in a shelter or sent to live with an unfamiliar family. She knows me well enough that she's acclimated quickly. I picked her up Wednesday after work and by Thursday evening she was out and about and letting me pet her. So far she hasn't shown too much interest in Johan and he doesn't give a shit about her so that's good. I actually accidentally left my bedroom door open on Wednesday night and so she had free reign in my apartment but Johan was unmolested.

I've always wanted a cat. My mom doesn't like them so we always had dogs, which I also like. But I don't think it is fair to have a dog when you live in an apartment unless you take it out all the time to big parks and things. J was allergic. Then I just figured I couldn't because of Johan and I didn't want to buy one. So perfect storm of happiness there.

Sort of. The night I picked her up, Murdoch and I got into a huge fight. When Murdoch was going through the custody thing, he shut down and didn't talk much about it. So I thought he was the sort who didn't want to talk about shit and I never asked. He thought I was self centered and didn't care. We are both all about being open and honest but neither of us has done a good job about being open with one another until we hit critical mass. We would be perfect for a Shakespearean Comedy. Whilst the fight well and truly sucked, it was also a bit of a relief. Biting my tongue and not asking him if he's OK, asking what's going on, was well and truly sucky. I'm very caring and nurturing by nature and so I wasn't being myself. I'm also very affectionate and I like doing little things but I was always afraid I'd upset him further. I should have asked him about this sort of thing but didn't. He should have told me earlier but didn't. We both fucked up. But now we both know and I get a chance to be myself and show him just ho much I care about him. If it doesn't work out after that, at least we'll have given it a shot with my being my authentic self.

Not that I presented anything false, mind you. I just muzzled myself a lot. I made a bad decision and it blew up in my face. I own that. I should have taken a different path or at least realized I could have switched paths at some point. I didn't and I can't undo that. But I can move on and learn from my mistakes. Because I love Murdoch and I care about him and his kids tremendously. And I feel lighter now, not having to hide how I feel, not having to not ask the questions I want to ask. I do hope it works out. I think he does as well.

And to end on a happy note, here is another picture of the Bubbles.

part of a pair again

16
Well, I'm feeling pretty stupid. Remember how I went out on a date and it was pretty nice? What I didn't mention is that I received a text from Murdoch during the date saying "OK, I'm done being mad about you breaking up with me. I understand. Thanks for letting me be part of your life for a little while. It was pretty great. Most of the time."

I was, to use a Dear Abby expression, floored. That night I texted him back saying I'd never imagined I'd hear from him again and I let him know that he had made an impression on me. The next morning we ended up texting back and forth and he told me some really shocking things. He said I was a really good girlfriend, that he thought I deserved good things in my life, and that he was really upset about the break up. All this from a guy I didn't think liked me.

We talked that night. We fought a bit about the fact that I'd gone on a date but we ended up back together. The next night I went to his place and actually slept over. We both have work to do with regards to communication but I think we are both relieved that we're still together.

I just feel like a jackass because I wasn't ready to date and that was a shitty thing to do to a nice guy. And it feels really dumb to have told everyone that I'd broken up with this guy only to be back together with him. Is that some high school bullshit or what? No, seriously. I didn't date, like at all, in high school so I don't know.

Link a Dink
One of my favorite websites ever. It bills itself as "The most profane fucking start page on the goddamned internet" which makes it seem like it's just some bullshit. But the site links you to some really interesting stuff (I presently have multiple tabs open in my browser, all from that site). And it's always awesome when someone else does the work for you and puts together a page of useful links. I wonder if I can access the site from work. So, in the spirit of FHP, here are some links:

Really? What the fuck is wrong with people? National Lazy Day? National Hot Dog Day? I don't get why we need so many pseudo holidays or why a nation as fat as the U.S. would want to embrace food days and lazy days.

Although, full disclosure, I'm an advocate of National Clitoris Awareness Week.

This is pretty freaking neat, isn't it? But how do you NOT know where you are burgling?

Because this shit is just too weird and creepy to not make you want to know more about it. I think Jenna Elfman actually talked about going around and uncovering the lizard people once. And when you have a problem, you break out the clay table and sculpt your problems away. OK, at least that's what I've been told by a non-expert (my ex-husband). But a quick google search found a quote from someone called KolKol as part of a forum discussion on clay tables in 2008: "From what I understand, clay demoing of "cycle of action" somehow will give you the ability to finish cycles of action better than before. similar with the other concepts that I clay demoed. Is that correct?"

Because we all know I'm constantly looking for something to do at work... you know, other than work.

And last, but certainly not least, here you go. Seems simple yes? But come on, we all fucking love it.

Oh Mother....

My mother is frequently extremely unintentionally hilarious. And it NEVER ceases to surprise me. This afternoon I had a hysterical reminder.

I signed up for an online dating site on Friday and I ended up going on a really nice date yesterday. Great guy, super nice, my height, very affectionate, totally digs me, blah blah blah. We went to "the lake" and had some beers and swam for hours and hours (I have a sunburn on my forehead of all fucking places). And it was just fun.

So, in the spirit of trying to be a better daughter, I emailed my mother today. Here is what I said, verbatim:

Are you going to Maryland this week for Eldest Brother's appointment?

I went on a date yesterday. I met a guy on a dating site and we went to 'the lake' (going to the lake is a Texas thing) and it was nice. It was hot, the water was warm, and I think I may have narrowly missed getting a sunburn on my face (hoping my forehead goes tan!)

He works in collision repairing and restoring cars that have been in accidents. 37, has a 15 year old daughter who primarily resides with the mother. He lives with his parents and was very up front about it. When he got out of his last relationship he was looking for a new place and his step dad talked to him about moving home because he (step dad) had been laid off and they could use help with the mortgage. His mom talked to him about it too, separately, so he figured, what the hell.

Rough around the edges, definitely and outdoorsy country sort of guy. Very nice and I'll see him again but you know, first dates don't tell you everything.

Me 

My mother's response? Everything about it is just priceless, from start to finish. I'm not making this up and I'm not altering anything. I swear.

You are not supposed to do the on line date thing. Only group stuff. What if he did something horrible, no one would know who dun it nor where to look for you. Please don't make me worry about you.

I go to DC Thursday Teacher leave for the Al Qeida area Friday 

The best part, obviously, is the comment about  my middle brother going to "A Qeida area" on Friday. I laughed so hard and so loud at that because at first I thought maybe she did it inadvertently but then I realized that these are the scenarios she now has going through her head:

1. Her naive, stupid daughter is putting herself in risky situations with strange men. It is only a matter of time before I go missing and years will pass before pieces of my dismembered corpse will be found built into the foundation of a new strip mall.
2. Her middle child is going to be moving not to Abu Dhabi but to a country that is under the death grip of the Taliban and where American's are slaughtered the moment they clear customs. 

It's a wonder we tell her anything at all, isn't it? 

Stupid Weiner

Nasty Boys
The last time I saw Murdoch, it was around the time when Anthony Weiner was pretty much ubiquitous. He commented that Weiner just couldn't help himself and keep it in his pants. We ended up agreeing that he must be doing something really, really right if his wife is staying with him. He must be amazing in bed if he is that unabashed about sending sexy pictures to other women and his wife is going to be all stand by your man.

I, for one, would love to see this man as mayor of New York City. I mean, come on, after Bossy Boots Bloomberg? Wouldn't that be rad?

Of course, Huma had to go and say that she partially blames herself for ending their counselling so she could focus on their son. Because focusing on a human who is 100% dependent on you (well, the kid doesn't need her to breathe but you know) is such a selfish dick move to make. Weiner made his own choices and the wifey didn't make him do shit. If my husband or boyfriend did that sort of thing I'd be pissed and I wouldn't take any part of the blame. I wouldn't do that to him after all. "Hey baby, I sent a picture of my tits to this guy. That's cool right?" No, no it is not.

But maybe this is the revenge of Huma. Think about it for a second; Huma comes out and is all "we've talked about it and we are a family and the other bullshit I have to say because he's running for mayor and I have to explain why I didn't leave his cheating ass*". People talk about it and question it and liken her to Hilary and other women who have stood by their politico husband's after they've been caught behaving badly. Some cry for Weiner to pull out of the race (I have a feeling that man has never pulled out in his life) but his wife is sticking with him so how bad can he be?

But then BAM! Here comes Huma with the "I blame myself" bullshit. Now people have to wonder if Anthony isn't some sort of domineering asshole who has been holding her down and oppressing her. Is that what we want in our mayor? A domineering, controlling asshat who is going to misbehave and then make us feel it is our fault? Hells no.

Well played Huma, well played.

*Maybe not everyone considers sexting cheating but I do. Sorry but that's the way it is with me. You are either all about this right here or keep walking.

Stupid
Yesterday was one of those days where I was just dumb as hell. I worked at home because I had a follow up eye appointment and my doc is right around the corner. When I went last week, I got lost and was late, regardless of the fact that the place is like three miles from me. So this time I left early to make sure I would not be late again. I wasn't. I arrived at 12:37 pm. My appointment was not until 3pm.

My eye doctor's office even texts and emails with confirmations. They all said 3pm. This bitch? She thought it meant 1pm. Awesome.

No big deal. I went home and kept working and then went back for my actual appointment. As I was waiting for the doc in the exam room, I read a mini article about eye health and prolonged computer use. One of the things mentioned was the specific eye skills that working at a computer requires. I laughed at the last one because I read it as 'vengeance' and I just found 'eye vengeance' to be hilarious. The word was 'vergance'. Every time I look at the information, I still laugh and read it as vengeance.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way home. I was about to check out when I saw the cashier who knows I buy cilantro a lot and it reminded me that I needed guinea pig veggies. So I said "damn it" and went to the produce section. Checked out, went home. Realized I left the pig veggies at the store. So I said fuck it and walked to the store to get them.

It was 100 degrees out and the heat index was 111. And I have a car. That I had just driven. No, I walked. And in a pair of sandals that are broken with the soles peeling off so the balls of my feet are now wrecked.

Dumb. As. Hell.