And then it ends

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By now we’ve all heard about the tragic passing of Robin Williams. I suppose I could weigh in and share funny anecdotes and jokes. Or I could call attention to mental illness. But I’m not doing either on of those things. At least, not really.

The fact is that while we are all stunned about what as happened, I can say that for myself, I am more upset about his soul. Not in a religious “all suicides go to hell” kind of way, cuz I don’t believe that. No, what I mean is that having dealt with depression, having been suicidal, and while still dealing with my own emotional issues, I can say that while I don’t know the details of how Mr Williams felt, I know how his soul felt. Heavy.

There is something that happens when you get that low. That overwhelming, tidal wave of searing hot pain that washes over you. when your tears are hot and your heart feels so heavy you think it will stop beating on its own. When you want an asteroid to crash through your ceiling and end it all, or a giant eraser to come and take away all the things that hurt your heart. And the thing is, it’s never just one thing. Its never just the one person, or event or stressor that makes you want to just walk away from your own life. Its everything and everyone in it. And then when you think it is so unmanageable that you can’t summon the strength to eat or sleep, you make a business decision. that’s really what it is. you make the only “rational” decision you are capable of making. If it doesn’t work… If it makes you un happy… if you think the situation will improve by removing yourself from it… you end it. That’s how it was for me.

I literally went through the thought process of “If I were dead, then this and this and this..” Its not that we don’t think people care, deep down we know people do.. its just that we care about them to the point where we actually talk ourselves into believing they will be better off without us.

That being said, What upsets me most, is that this man has struggled with depression, and that I know the desperation he felt. And I am saddened by the fact that he felt there was no way out of it. That in itself is a tragedy.

People have been going on about the manner in which he took his own life, and all I can say to those people is “fuck you, fuck off”. Does it matter how he did it? Should it not matter more that he did it AT ALL? Why do you need to know all the details? Moreover, if you are one of those douchebags who is getting a tattoo of him in memorial.. ARE YOU ON ACID?!

Yeah the guy was a comic genius. He was loved by many. But a) Paul Walker. Ok he dies everyone was up in arms about it for MONTHS… getting tattoos and doing stuff… no denying he passed tragically as well, but everyone FORGOT about him to some extent and went on with their lives. The same is true of this. You are going to get a tattoo to memorialize a man you don’t know. A man who never knew you. Why? So you can be all trendy and show your ink off and people will think you’ll sensitive an shit? And b) You want to memorialize Robin Williams? HELP PREVENT ANOTHER SUICIDE. Stop asking stupid questions, stop getting tattoos and setting up websites that no one but you and your hipster friends will see, get off your ass and make friends with the kid at your school who has no friends. Have lunch with the kid who sits by himself. Go to a seniors center and volunteer. Volunteer at the hospital. On a suicide prevention help line. Smile at a stranger, buy a homeless person some coffee, tell that frazzled mother at Walmart with a cart full of screaming kids that she’s doing a good job and that it’s going to get easier. Tell her she looks pretty. That’s how you honor a man who gave so much of himself to the world and could barely spend the same on himself. Imagine what your kind words and actions can do.

The truth about being a single mom

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Being a parent is hard work. Even when you are in a solid commited relationship. But being a single mom, that’s a challenge in and of itself.

I have it better than a lot of single parents. My children all have the same dad, the products of a dysfunctional marriage that eventually ended in divorce. But they have a dad, and they spend equal time with both of us. The challenge for me in largely internal, but I know that many single parents in my situation can relate.

You see, when I got married and had children, that was my job, while my husband went off to get his tickets and set himself up in life. Pursuing his ambitions and interests. I stayed at home and ran around after three children, kept the house clean, did the laundry, cooked the meals, all while trying desperately to keep a smile on my face and pretending to be happy. I say pretending because my marriage was not a happy one by any means.

When the marriage ended, I had nothing. I had planned for several months to leave and finally after securing a line of credit, I moved out and filed for divorce. I cleaned people’s houses for a living. I also did random jobs for money. I enrolled in school and was going full time, while still doing shows around town (I’m a  musician), cleaning houses, cleaning cars, babysitting… It was very difficult on me financially. But I made it work. Looking back now, I am rather proud of myself for pulling myself together the way I did. But the whole time I was doing that, I was struggling internally. And I still am.

My children’s father is financially stable, and successful. I had been used to begging for money while we were married and explaining where every dime went, as well as being belittled for “sitting on my ass all day” as a stay at home mom. Now that I was single, I was filled with this intense need to prove to him, but mostly to myself, to my children, that I was equal to their dad. That I was capable of taking care of them. I was riddled with doubt and self loathing. Thinking myself incredibly selfish for walking away from the “stable home” to move in to some shitty two bedroom apartment where my three children had to share a tiny bedroom. Their dad’s home had a room for each of them, the cats, the dogs, the yard, the play ground. He had a new girlfriend who my kids liked and could see as a  mother figure. The “family home” stayed the same without me in it, and I had nothing.

I finished school and gave up spousal support, choosing to only accept child support, still sharing custody of the children. I wasn’t looking to punish anyone least of all my children by engaging in a pointless and painfully drawn out custody battle.

My wage slowly increased with each new job, and eventually I was able to quit cleaning houses, as well as babysitting. But it seemed as though every time I got a foot up, he got two in. I moved to a larger place, he took them on a  trip. I bought them a video game, he bought them big screen TVs, I baked them a birthday dinner, he threw them a party.  It always felt like a competition, and it still does. Which each new toy he bought the kids, I got a  bill in the mail I couldn’t pay.But that’s mostly my problem.

I know that my children appreciate the time I spend with them. They like that we talk, and play and laugh and do silly things. I know they know how hard I work, and that it’s hard for me some days to do what I want to do. They know mom is broke a lot. And I also know that none of that matters. I know they love me, not what I buy them.

I saw a bumper sticker of a woman on a  pole, and it said “I support single moms”. I nearly cried. Because it wasn’t so long ago that I considered doing desperate things to keep my kids happy. I have sold important things to pay for field trips, school events, games. I would do it again. I don’t regret any of it. I would gladly be that woman on that pole if it meant that my eldest could have a  car to drive to his extra curricular activities, or that my middle son could get a better laptop, or that my daughter could get a computer to do all the creative things she does. Or so I could have a reliable vehicle to gets my kids from point A to point B without fear of the car blowing up of dying all together.

I’m not trying to be a perfect mother. I know I’m not. I’m not trying to deck my kids out in designer crap. I’m not even trying to take my kids everywhere they want to go and do all the things they want to do. I’m just trying to keep them fed. To keep a roof over their heads. To keep them equipped with what they need to be happy, healthy and safe. To give them the opportunity to be included in school field trips, events and parties. I just want to give my kids the luxury of being kids, and enjoying their childhood and their time with me. That’s all. I would gladly be that woman on that pole if I thought it would make a difference. So if you are that guy who has that sticker on your car, good on you. You go ahead and support that single mom. Empty your pockets for her. Let her do her little dance and let her swallow her pride and do what she has to do to give her kids everything they need and deserve. Good mom’s are hard to find.

 

 

POGONOPHILIA….It’s a thing.

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I’m what you call a Pogonophile. I like beards. A lot. In fact Id dare to say that it’s reached an almost “fetish” level… and I’m not alone. In fact there are more and more women who are discovering the magic of facial gardens. But before men everywhere decide to start growing realistic facial moss all willy nilly, let me tell you, Beards have rules. No…they really do. And I’m going to share these rules for you. Now, keep in mind, I don’t speak for all women, but I probably speak for a whole lot of us when I say the following, so if you’re going to grow facial hair, then you should take this into consideration.

1)There is a fine line between trimming and becoming king of the douchebags. If you find yourself making little swirls and loops until your beard looks like a tribal tattoo. You’ve gone too far. No woman in her right mind thinks that’s hot. Unless you’re both into Cos Play and you are going for the whole “Seneca Crane” look. Which is wicked hot in a COSPLAY CONTEXT. but she’s not going to want to go to the mall and hang out with you or anywhere else if your face requires that kind of upkeep. Beards are supposed to make you look and feel manly and robust. I think women everywhere agree on this.

2)Beards to avoid: Unless you live on Jersey Shore, avoid pencil line beards. That’s not a beard. Its a an attempt at a beard. Also while on the subject, Those “ring beards”… it looks like your neck is trying to give birth to your face. Avoid that like the black death, it looks beyond stupid NO ONE can pull off that look. Same can be said about Chin straps in my opinion… those things are dumb too.

3)Hygiene: Facial hair is hair. It holds on to dirt, oil, odors… especially if you smoke. You can buy beard wash and conditioners and they smell amazing. In fact I have some at home which I bought simply because it smells amazing. I obviously don’t have  a beard (I’m female), but I gotta tell you, running my finger tips through a beard, and kinda massaging the cheeks and chin.. especially if it feels nice and smells awesome… I’m yours forever…(FYI: It’s called Ogallala Bay Rum Sandlewood Vanilla, and you can buy soaps, shave creams… all kinds of stuff… all available online..It’s sexy as all hell…really.)

4)Now, I’ve been into beards since GI Joe had one. In fact I believe my Ken doll at one point had a beard. But that being said, not every man can sport a full beard. Which brings me to a very important point. While a beard is very, very sexy, it’s not what makes the man. Ultimately it boils down to how  a man carries himself. Who he is. If you can only grow a goatee, then you grow it and own it. If you can only do a moustache, then do that. If you can’t grow facial hair, because some men can’t, it doesn’t make you less attractive. Beards for most of us Pogonophiles is a preference much like blond hair or long legs would be for a man. It doesn’t mean you’ll never find a brunette unattractive.  So if you are going to be one of those clean shaven guys, that’s okay. In the end a woman who is deserving of your attention will love you for what you bring to the table. So don’t stress out about trying to fill out your facial hair and fluffing it or God knows what else. It’s unnecessary, and really when all is said and done, you’ll look better with no facial hair than you would with sporadic facial hair patterns.

5) If you happen to be dating a Pogonophile, or hope to, be ready to be felt up…in the beard. Think about it, if you like big boobs on a girl and you date this woman with a gorgeous rack and she said “yeah go ahead and look, but don’t touch em…ever” Relationship over…right? Yeah. It’s like that for us too.

6)If you look good in a  beard and your woman (or man) likes it that way…please keep it. Women do lots of additional grooming for the sake of their partners, if we ask you to keep the beard cus it gets us off…keep the damn beard. If you shave it off for a  legitimate reason (like you got wood glue in it) then fine.. decent reason. If you shave it off for no reason, well, lets just say something’s up with that. Because why would you deliberately remove something that your partner finds sexy and can get you laid a whole lot unless you DON”T WANT to get laid? If you like long hair on a  woman and just to prove a point she chops it off. Yeah she’s still your woman and you’d probably still do her, but are you slightly less attracted to her because her hair is as short as yours or shorter? yeah…maybe. That’s how you gotta look at it.

I love a nice beard. When it’s clean and kept up. I’m not a big fan of Beard art.. the ones you see at competition. They have a  whole sport around it called Bearding. Those beards are a little over the top for my taste.  Did I miss any beard rules? let me know!

 

In the meantime, check this out! https://www.facebook.com/youbeard?fref=nf

Can’t stop here…

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We aren’t all born with backbones. Some of us (Me), are born with this weird gelatinous substance that doesn’t really serve a purpose other than to help us bend over efficiently when other people take advantage of us. And Id love to say that they take advantage of me because they are horrible evil people, but really, they take advantage of me because I let them. I give, and I give and I make allowances, and I’m kind, and considerate and the “bigger person”, until months later when I’m explaining to the guy I’m seeing why my ex boyfriend’s stuff that I packed FOR him, is still sitting in my basement and all over my garage and why none of the stuff that is supposed to be done, that he promised to do, is done. And all I can say is “It’s not a  big deal”. But really… its is. I have no reason to help the guy really, but I do because I’m not a total bitch. And I’m going to continue to lie to myself and say that he appreciates it and is thankful for my kindness, but really that a fucking lie too because he was never appreciative of anything I did while we were together so I have no reason to believe he appreciates me now. Truth be known, a guy who gets paid weekly and has received 16 checks (min) since we broke up should have had ample time and funds to not only do what he said he was going to do but also move his stuff out by now. But he hasn’t, and the reason he hasn’t is because I’m not a  total bitch.

I suppose I could have sold the van (Which I bought) from underneath him and used to money to pay someone to come finish the work in the house, or sold all that collectable shit I bought him and packed up so nicely for him and used that to buy what I needed to do the work myself, but I didn’t. Again, I’m not a total bitch. (To clarify, the work is not a huge undertaking. An additional room was built in my house for his son. you read that last part right. We actually built a room for his son in my rental. read that last word over again. Rental. And the ceiling and trim is still not done, even though it’s been built for 1 1/2 years already. so that’s my precedent right there. He had a year and a half to do it before he moved out and didn’t. And if it’s not done, when I get evicted, which I will because Ill be short on rent because I can’t rent out the unfinished room, I won’t get my damage deposit back, and I won’t have any $ to move anywhere else. But still…Me= not a bitch)

The truth is, I’ve never been good at sticking up for myself. I’ve always been so concerned about not hurting people, and about not making people angry with me that I made allowances for bad behavior all my life. I’ve kept people in my life that manipulated me, used me, hurt me, and all because I’ve made it my problem to make them happy with me, or in general, and really, that should not be my problem. And yet here we are, in an unfinished bedroom, in a basement still packed with my ex bf’s crap. Wondering how in the fuck I’m paying rent this month because I haven’t been able to rent said bedroom out because it’s not finished. And still, I’m not being a bitch to the guy and taking care of this shit and leaving him with whatever the fucks left…

Ok so that whole thing has just made me reflect on something my friends tell me all the time. That I’m too nice. I was told just yesterday that I am too nice to have been treated the way I’ve been treated. But yet in the same breath, I’m told how great it is that I’m so nice. Because people like me are hard to find. Honestly it’s confusing, because in general, I like who I am. I do nice things for people and I spoil those close to me because it makes me feel good to do that. And unlike some people I know, I don’t do nice stuff to hold over someone head later. I just do it when, and because I can. And I wait for someone to pay it forward. The problem is that in doing that I usually get the shaft. Which is essentially what is going to happen here. I’m going to pay to get all this stuff done in my house so I can rent the fucking room out, Ill arrange for a  truck to take all his stuff to his new place when and if he ever gets one, and Ill probably fucking get him a housewarming gift and smile every goddamned inch of the way… I need to not do that. Because I can honestly say that I doubt very much he would ever repay the favor. Which is evident based on the way he “got on” fixing that shit he said he’d finish. It’s not important to him so it’s not important. And  that’s really it right there. the bones of it. If its important to you, it’s important to me. If it’s important to me, it can wait.

I wonder if I can get a backbone transplant…

the funny thing, is that I’ll get over it, and I’ll get on with my life. I can take care of myself and have been for a very long time. In the last few months, I’ve taken some important steps in removing people from my life who have been negative. And it’s been a  huge relief. You can love someone and still put an end to bad behavior. For me that has meant cutting off ties with people. Which has been difficult, but absolutely needed. In clearing out negative people, I’ve made room for positive ones. Primarily because not being weighed down by other people’s crap has made me happier, and more at peace with myself. And that attracts better people to you. Negative people attract negative people.. Positive people attract positive ones. Discerning which are negative and which are positive has been a challenge, but it’s been productive. It’s helped that I have a strong albeit small circle of friends who have helped me navigate. Yesterday sucked. Today is Better. Tomorrow will be fabulous. :)

Can’t stop here, this is bat country…

 

 

 

And someday when Im dead….

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I was asked recently if Id accomplish most of what I had hoped to accomplish by my 40th birthday. The answer to that is NO, no I have not.

The fact is that we all have our “plan”, some of us (me included) have our “If not married by the time I’m 40″ buddies, and that’s all good. But I can say that in my old age, I’ve learned some pretty important shit. Like for reals, yo.

Lesson #1, whatever your plan is, throw it out. Just get rid of it. I’m not saying you shouldn’t pursue your dreams, I’m just saying your dreams shouldn’t have deadlines. If those dreams are meant to come true, they will come true on their own damn time.

Lesson#2, stop listening to what people think and start paying attention to what you think. You are a lot wiser than you think. Now granted we ask friends for advice, but get real, really we are asking our friends to agree with us, right? We want to know we are doing the right thing. And if they disagree we usually poo-poo it and do what we want. What I’m telling you is that you need to skip the middle man and do what makes you happy.

Lesson #3, speaking of happiness, you deserve some. My happiness at the moment comes in the form of not giving a shit. For the first time EVER, I am taking care of myself. I’ve gotten rid of drama in my life and I feel much better. Because drama is contagious and its destructive. Nothing kills your buzz like someone feeding you bullshit and including you in their dog and pony show. I’ve started surrounding myself with people who share my interests, and quirks and are just “positive” people. Its made a massive difference.

Lesson #4,  there is nothing wrong with being alone, and dying that way. But if that’s the way you wind up, then let it be because you were unlucky and not because you stopped trying to find “the one”. Don’t be that person drinking their international coffee alone wishing they had put themselves out there more. Be the one who tried and got their heart broken and still got up the next day and put a profile up on Plenty of Fish and tried again. maybe it works out, maybe it doesn’t. Don’t be so afraid of failure that you stop trying.

All I know is that when I die, I won’t have a big list of accomplishments to read off. And there won’t be a lot of pictures of me. Because I was the one behind the camera. I took pictures of those I loved and I loved them all fearlessly. I was around. I was the best person I knew how to be. I got knocked down and I got back up and gave people second chances. I forgave, and forgot and got on with life. I was generous with my time, my attention, my money, my affection. I wanted to be the bigger person, and even if I didn’t succeed in that, at least I tried.

I won’t make apologies for cutting people out of my life. I have my reasons and those closest to me know it takes me a lot to get to that point. But if I do it, its because it needs to happen. Maybe it’s permanent, maybe it’s not, who knows. But I can say as an adult of nearly 40 years old, that I have earned the right to decide who I want in my life, and what I can and cannot handle. I have earned the privilege of making my own decisions without criticism or condemnation. 

I also won’t make apologies for inviting people in, or changing my circumstances. And I should be able to do what I need to do as an adult to make myself happy and be healthy without being pressured to keep negative people around. which brings me to lesson #5.

Lesson #5, your family is the family YOU CHOOSE. Blood may tie you to a person, but it is just blood. Sometimes it is better to be without family that to have a dysfunctional one. We are products of our environment. If we surround ourselves with negative people, we become negative. Give yourself the freedom to remedy your environment and be happy on your own terms. Make your own family. Love those who love you. Help those who help you. Nurture those who nurture you. Distinguish between the forgivable and the unforgivable. Set your boundaries and defend them. Be you. Your real family will love you for your authentic self. Those who criticize you don’t really care, and they don’t matter.

I’ve got maybe 20 years on this planet, give or take, and that’s not long. I just had my 20 year reunion and my grad seems like it just happened, so the next 20 will no doubt fly by. I have spent much of my life trying to convince myself that I deserved to be loved. I have 0 time to invest in convincing anyone else.

You only own one heart and one life. And you have to fill those up on your own. Don’t count on anyone to make you happy. The right people should only add to your happiness. If you find yourself empty when people leave, its because you invested no time in caring about yourself. You are the cake. Delicious on your own. The people in your life are frosting and sprinkles. When the frosting leaves, you should still be left with cake which is still delicious. Don’t depend on people to bring you the cake as well because you may get it for a while, but you will always wind up disappointed. every single time. no joke. And if you find someone who not only brings you frosting, but helps you bake the cake, by God you hold on to the person for the rest of your life, because they really love you and want the best for you. Those people are rare.

When  I die, I want to be remembered at the best baker in town.

 

Random thoughts about random stuff

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1) Poptarts. They are in fact outlandishly delicious. Not because they are actually good, but because they are a comfort food. The fact that all the cool flavors are only in the states is a source of constant frustration for me.

2) There is something wonderful about snoring. When  its that cute “big Birdie” snore its absolutely delightful. Almost comic like. When its really loud, its still kinda funny. Its like rhythmic facial farting. wicked. When you are the one snoring its even better because you cant hear it, and you can’t be blamed for anything. When you wake yourself up with your own snoring with that tell tale “snort” its pretty much the best thing ever. Fun fact: After a full night of studying for diploma exams in High school, I fell asleep in English class and woke myself up with that snort, absolutely mortified after noticing that everyone was staring. 45 minutes had passed, god knows how long I was snoring for.

3) Cat puke makes me gag. Cat boxes make me gag. Dog kisses make me gag. Ok, a lot of things make me gag. Strangely enough the idea of consuming human blood does not. Weird right? I think it would taste like drinking pennies.

4) I need a vacation in the worst way. Not so much time off, but rather a change of scenery. I want to wake up in a strange bed, in a different city/town, get dressed and spend the day walking around finding cool shit. Then stay up late on  a balcony, or patio, or shore line, having a  cold beer, maybe eating some yummy local nosh and snuggling with someone awesome.

5) Ive been staying up really late lately, getting to know someone pretty awesome. And while watching the sun rise (on a few occasions) I can’t help but feel like I’m seeing it from the wrong side. Its  a peculiar feeling, but its still pretty great.

6) I have a guy best friend. Some people think it’s weird. I don’t. The fact is that he is closer to me than most men are. He just gets me. We were always “friendly” but it wasn’t until my hellish breakup that we were able to just hang out and get to know each other better. I have had some of the best talks with this man, and I can count on him in a  way I can’t count on anyone else. I have a  small circle of friends, because despite my absolute bad choices in men (until recently anyway :)), I make outstanding choices in friends. And because I don’t have any family near by, my friends are like my family. And this man is part of that small circle, and I love him. seriously, Id do anything for him, just as I would my other friends. There is not middle ground for me. I have acquaintances, and I have best friends. My acquaintances I am polite, social and friendly with. But my best friends can call me anytime day or night and I will bend over backwards for them. Its just the way I am. As you get older you realize its not how many friends you have, its how many you can actually count on. When he finds someone and starts dating again, Ill be jealous, but only because in my mind no one is good enough for him. And if she were to break his heart, I would in all honesty break her face. And I know he’s my best friend, because he feels the same about me.

7) Time really does heal all wounds. But sometimes the scab you get gets all keloid and you need an extreme makeover to get over that shit because it leaves you changed forever. sometimes though, that scar serves to remind you of what you’ve learned so that you don’t repeat the same mistakes. That’s not a bad thing.

8) When you are in love with someone who doesn’t or can’t love you back, you have to let them go. I’ve spent far too much of my life convincing myself that I am worthy of being loved, I have zero time to convince someone else. I shouldn’t have to.

9) I cannot change a tire. I can however, drain an abscess on a  sheep.

10) I woke up the other day actually feeling old. I woke up at 6:30 am, got up and made my bed, made my coffee, and drank it black because I don’t like the fat in milk and sugar make me feel sick. Then had a piece of dried toast and put away a shit load of empty beer bottles plus a bottle wine in the recycling then sat down to watch the weather network with my dog because deciding I needed to go back to bed because a) I was tired and b) wtf was I doing up so fucking early on my day off? Then laying there I was struck with the thought that I should maybe get some yard work done, maybe fix my sewing machine so I can start on  Mugatu and Katinka Nagovana-na-nah costumes. I’m not just old. I’m a  nerdy 65 year old. What’s next? Ill be wearing  kitten sweatshirt sitting in my Grand LeMans outside the bingo hall waiting for that bastard to open so I can buy my early bird cards, and the fact that even know about early bird cards frightens me to my very core.

11) A good woman wears many hats. She is a caregiver,a  friend, a teacher, a disciplinarian, a lover, a defender and an ally. She is loyal, and faithful and kind. She is beautiful and strong. She’s the woman who drops her plans to take care of a sick child, or a troubled friend. She’s the woman who stays up at night worrying about how she’ll cover the costs of bills, birthday presents and back to school supplies. She’s the one who spends her days off on call. She does these things not because she HAS to, but because she wants to. A “girl” does none of these things. A girl will rip through her partner’s pay checks without planning ahead. they are flighty, unfaithful, disrespectful, materialistic butt munches. Sure, she’s wearing the nice clothes, has her extensions in, her nails are done and she looks good, dancing on a  speaker with a drink in her hand. But after you’ve had your fun with her and she breaks your heart because you find out she’s a whorish idiot, you figure out you should have kept the boring good girl, because she’s the one who would have made you happy. Too bad we are too fucking boring, have fun with your syphilis. Don’t even dare bitch for one second that you need to find a good woman, cus chances are you had her and you broke her heart.

12) Sometimes being scared makes you smart. And sometimes it makes you stupid. My fear of snakes is stupid. I realize this. My fear of being hurt, that makes me smart. It forces me to tread lightly, and be careful. It makes me be choosier about who I spend my time with.

13) I’m not going to stop being “nice” just because the world is largely populated by assholes. If anything, that makes me want to be nicer because the world needs it.

 

Because that’s just who I am…

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I was brought up largely by my grandmother who taught me to be a proper lady. That means That I am kind to others, generous and considerate. And so far that has served me well in that I seldom feel remorse for the things I say or do because I don’t often put myself in the situation when I say or do something I later regret. I’m not saying it hasn’t happened. I know the taste of my own foot better than some, but at least I am smart enough to make a conscious effort to avoid those moments. That being said, sometimes people do get irritated, even offended by my way of speaking. And by that I mean they can’t handle my sarcasm.

Sarcasm, like misplaced humor, is something I use to protect myself. I use it often I guess. Probably more than most people but mostly because I feel like I need to protect myself more than the average gal. I’ve been hurt a lot in my life, so having a  shield is helpful. But I am never more aware of this than when I am at my shrinks office.

Ok, truth be told, I know the man is trying to help me. Ok, yes he is, I get it… he gets  a gold star. I am also every aware of the fact that I need help dealing with some of my issues. But seriously, as a mental health professional who has been seeing me on and off for over 2 years, he should be well aware of the fact that the more sarcastic I am, the more vulnerable I feel. Think about it. Does a cop pull his gun unless he feels threatened? No. So why the fuck would I?

The big problem is that the more I fend him off, the more he batters my defenses, no doubt trying to get to the creamy center of my psyche. The place where all my barriers come down and I have a “breakthrough”. Do I want a breakthrough? No. Not really. I’d sooner put shit in my hands and clap, or walk barefoot in a field of lego blocks. To be honest it scares the living shit out of me. So why go you say? Well ironically when I first went it was to deal with something completely different that what we’re talking about these days, its just that the subject at hand is what has been identified as a “root cause”.

But every time he says something and I come back with some sarcastic comment, he gets mad. He’s asked me to leave before. no kidding. And all I could think at the time was “dude, you have me backed into a corner, do you seriously expect me to comply?” because really, as a mental health professional you’d think he’s be able to spot that shit a mile away, and not only that, but accept it as part of my coping mechanism. I guess his frustration with me stems from a the fact that after two years I am no closer to today of “getting over” my root cause than I was when I walked in. I personally think that his frustration with me is really frustration with himself and maybe he’s the one who needs to be on the couch.

At any rate, I’ve fired my shrink. And I’m not looking for another one. I’m not ready. I don’t want to. I don’t care. The problems I need to deal with are the ones I deal with every day. Food, money, rent, kids… those need to be my concern right now. I’ve made it this far without “help”, so I think I’ll be find going forward… Dude doesn’t get me anyways, and he’s supposed to be highly respected in his field…so whatever. I am far too complicated.