An Ordinary Update

I still have nothing important to say. I really need to get my meds switched or adjusted, because I just don’t feel passion anymore, about anything. I’m not depressed but I’m not into anything, and the things I want to be interested in can’t hold my concentration — like writing and reading.

So I guess I’ll just give you an update.

*  *  *  *  *

Thursday I had therapy, and my dad came. We drove all the way out there (a 20-30 minute drive; that day it was only 20) to find out my therapist never showed up. So we waited for half an hour and decided to go home. Once we got back into our hometown, my therapist called and apologized profusely explaining that some lines of communication got mixed up and she was there now and could I come back? I did, my dad in tow.

Not the best first impression, but he didn’t seem to mind. He mentioned that he likes going places with me so he actually enjoyed the drive there, back, there again, and back again.

We worked out a lot of stuff. You may remember these two previous posts about my father — his contradictory ways affect me deeply and I don’t always think we have the best relationship. He fessed up to knowing that he contradicts himself and assured me that it wasn’t me — he gets stressed out and is in constant pain and sometimes takes it out on me.

(Side note: my therapist’s last name is Funk, and my psychiatrist’s last name is Dick, and I think that’s just the most amazing combo ever in the history of mankind.)

So Funk suggested whenever one of us is having an off day we simply let the other know, so we can both understand that whatever may be said isn’t really directed towards either of us, but at the day in general. My dad loved the idea.

She also suggested that, since part of my development up kind of came to a halt when I started using drugs at age 16, we work with my childishness instead of against it and utilize a chore chart. At the end of every week, if I get everything done, I get a prize just like a child would. My dad really loved this idea.

Then we talked about my medications — my suboxone and mental health meds — and how he doesn’t like that I’m on any of them but has finally come to accept and understand that at this point in time I need them and they make me a better person. Funk helped a lot with this breakthrough as well and my father and I are going to start going to meetings (NA / AA) together even if only to complain about how much we dislike them.

So that went well. It was one of the best therapy sessions I’ve had because something actually happened.

Afterwards, in the car, my father and I continued to talk and he assured me that I’m not a failure for living at home and he adores my son and I being here with him and he’s proud of me and all that — everything I need to hear now and then. Things seem really good. We’re both happy, at the moment. Funk said he’s probably the most supportive, understanding, and willing parent she’s ever met. Which made me proud of him.

*  *  *  *  *

I also am taking this getting married thing very seriously. I started looking for a ring and found the perfect one — an engagement / wedding band combo — for an amount within my / my father’s / Nate’s price range, which my father has agreed to get me for Christmas. Nate wants to try to pay for some of it, too, mainly because my dad doesn’t know exactly why I want it for Christmas. I was going to tell him in therapy but chickened out. Either way, I’m getting it within the next few months and couldn’t be happier and will post pictures once it’s officially on my finger forever.

Sadly, that’s the only easy thing to come from this decision. Well, my mother is supportive and said she’d be happy to attend, so that’s awesome, too. However it seems it’s nearly impossible to get a marriage license because both parties have to be physically present and although I’ve found a bunch of courthouses that go out to certain prisons every so often to issue them, none of them go to Nate’s prison. I spent the better part of Friday calling every courthouse in the state and none of them could help me, but I also didn’t even get halfway through the list.

I found a woman online who has performed many prison weddings and she said she knows of a courthouse that will do video conference and she can set it all up and work with everyone involved to make sure it all runs smoothly. Of course, with her fees and the video conference and marriage license fees, the cost comes to a little over $700, which is completely and totally worth it but just not something I have right now.

I was hoping to have the wedding in March but now it may have to wait a little longer. Either way, at least we’re getting somewhere and are officially fiancés instead of boyfriend / girlfriend now. Which may sound juvenile but it makes me happy.

*  *  *  *  *

Halloween was stressful. Holden didn’t want to wear his costume to school so I sent it with him, his teacher had difficulty getting it on him but finally did but then he took it off 5 minutes after I showed up for his parade, he wouldn’t partake in the parade, then he wouldn’t put the costume back on when we got home so I ended up taking him to his best friend’s house and enlisting her parents to help me wrestle him into it, which we finally did.

I immediately took him outside to play to maybe keep his mind off it and it seemed to work because he became much happier and kept it on, and then we went trick-or-treating down one street with his best friend, Peyton, until she had to leave to go to another town where they give out better candy and we stayed and Holden continued to have fun for about one more street until he decided Halloween is not his thing.

We forced him to stay out for as long as we could but after about an hour total he was done and when we stopped home to get his stroller he ran inside and took off his costume before we even got through the door. So it was fun for a bit, but I have to admit I’m a little bummed. When I was little Halloween was a very serious event — my parents got so into it one time (we think it may have all been the same year) I wore my shoes down until there was nothing left and I had blisters all over my feet, one cousin had an asthma attack and the other threw up in the van and my parents and aunts and uncles kept going because candy was the goal, dammit, and if you trailed you would be left behind.

So getting the meager amount of candy we did for being out for only an hour kind of gave me flashbacks about how that’s so not good enough and I would have been left out in the cold to fend for myself had they been around. We need to teach this kid some proper Halloween etiquette, and soon.

I didn’t take any pictures because the whole thing was so stressful, but I’m going to give the kid and myself a few days to recover and then wrestle the costume on him again and force him to smile for the camera. In case you were wondering, he was the Big Bad Wolf, I was Little Red Riding Hood, and Jack was the Lumberjack.

*  *  *  *  *

That’s about it, I guess. I know I missed yesterday’s Featured Friday but I think the above is excuse enough and I think I’m going to start doing it every other week because I seem to miss every other week anyway.

Today I’m supposed to post one of Nate’s letters but they’re all mixed in with the other shit in The Pile so that may be postponed as well, and I’m not sure which other features I’ll post until I’m feeling better but whenever I say that I end up posting them so take everything I say with a grain of salt.

If I’m Lost, What is She?

My mom’s going to Florida. Tomorrow. She doesn’t know how long she’s going to be gone; she might stay the whole winter.

She’s going through a lot right now, and this is probably exactly what she needs. But I’m hurt. I’m saddened. I’m saddened that her life has gotten to this point and I’m saddened that I’m losing my best friend, for however long, and I’m saddened that my son isn’t going to be able to see his grandmother for however long.

I don’t know where this post is going, but I need to write something.

This is all my stepfather’s fault. I want to blame him, and I do blame him, because he is to blame. I’m not holding back and even trying to be understanding. The hate I once had for him because of what he did to me, that I worked so fucking hard to get over, is now back, but this time because of what he’s doing to her.

I once told him, long ago while we were drunk and he was hitting on me, that I would cut his dick off if he ever hurt her. The pain has gone on for too long now and it might be time for me to make good on my word. Not really, but if I could, I’m to the point where I probably would.

My plan was to have them take my son if anything ever happened to me. Now who will?

My plan was to be by my mother’s side until I died, because I’m dying first because we agreed. Now who’s side will I stand by?

She said she’s sorry. She shouldn’t have to apologize for anything. This shouldn’t be happening.

I want to cry but I can’t. I’m lost. I can’t even imagine how she feels.

She should know that she is loved, more than immensely. She is perfect.

Tempest Rose Susan Crowe

Confession: Adultery in the Heart

I’m told every woman does this, but I’m married and find myself having massive crushes on other men. They’re not men I know, mind you, but usually people on TV. I seem to be especially drawn to guys on Project Runway which bothers me all the more because I feel as though I’m obsessed, which I definitely have a tendency toward. I suppose that’s an “extra” confession.

The main reason this bothers me is that every relationship I have had with a man has had something to do with cheating.  I’ve had quite a few boyfriends and every one of them has either been cheated *on* or cheated *with*. A few of the latter knew what they were but, as far as I know, none of the former has ever found out. At least, not that they’ve said. I don’t know if openly seeing three guys the way I did once “counts” as cheating. Being able to date all these guys was a big ego boost since I was the ugly nerd in high school but, trust me, it’s a lot more trouble than it’s worth.

I am not afraid I will cheat on my husband, but it bothers me that I’m more attracted to men I see on TV than I am to my own husband. I’ve been undergoing treatment for bipolar and on medication that all but kills your sex drive nearly the entire time we’ve been together, so that explains that. At least, it could. Maybe the injury causing me not to be able to have sex contributed too. Perhaps it’s not that I’m more attracted so much as that I make up fantasies in my head about sex and romance with them. I’m always younger in the fantasies, so perhaps I just feel old too. I feel as though I shouldn’t need to do this if I’m happy in my marriage. I do love him, more than anything…so why do I have to keep fantasizing about having sex with other men but not about him?

I’m a horrible wife, a horrible Christian and a horrible person…

*  *  *  *  *

This confession is brought to you by The Prozac Queen. To submit your own confession, please visit The Confessional page.

Infidelity 101

Today’s class is brought to you by Tempest Rose and Mr. Gardener, and this infographic.

Infidelity Dilemma

*  *  *  *  *

T:
Hello, my name is Tempest, and I am a serial cheater.

When we were first together everything was wonderful. Obviously, that’s how it always starts. We were blissful and perfect. But somewhere along the way things went wrong.

I don’t remember exactly why I’ve cheated on every person I have. I don’t remember exactly when or why or how things went wrong. I just know they did.

And someone was always there to pick me up. When things weren’t perfect I ran. I ran for my life and I ran for my love and I held on too tight to someone who was not available while letting go of those who were. That’s just how I worked.

I have no reason or grand scheme or super apology with a definite answer. I just did it. It happened. I apologize, of course, but I don’t think it’s enough.

*  *  *  *  *

G:
Hello, my name is Gardener, and I have been cheated on in every serious relationship I’ve been in
, and boy did that get old.  Each one was different, people being what they are, but I’m going to stick to the last 2, Mandy and Mary.  I’m staying with these 2 because I know for a fact that they each really loved me, and regretted their actions.

I was raised in the shadow of infidelity on the part of both my parents, who engaged in an array of bad behaviors beyond that.  Like some children I rebelled against my upbringing, and sought other role models.  Because I considered my parents’ infidelity one of their many evils, I adopted a monogamous mindset.  My future love would be my one and only, and I wanted to be the same to them. This of course didn’t work out the way I had hoped.

*  *  *  *  *

T:
When it happened I felt high — almost euphoric. Like something had taken over my body and my mind and I wasn’t all there.

When it happened nothing else mattered but that very moment.

There was no moment of clarity. There was no what the hell am I doing? question burning in my mind. There was only him and me, and passion. So much passion. Maybe I mistook it for love. Or maybe not. I really can’t say.

I don’t blame it on the alcohol or the drugs, which were involved most of the time, but something within myself that never learned how to quite care about these things.

Sometimes it was about the who, like when it was with Nate. Sometimes it wasn’t. Sometimes it was about the what. The attention, the feeling, the desire. Even the danger, I guess. It was just something. Whatever something I was missing. In hindsight, maybe I was missing myself.

*  *  *  *  *

G:
I never got an answer on why Mandy cheated, I didn’t need one.
 Fact was she cheated with the wrong person.  I think she had been drinking at the time, which was something she rarely did.  She hid this from me for a month before being forced into telling me by my friends who had caught her in the act. Mandy and I had some problems, and from my side it was that she was a very difficult person to deal with, especially for my friends and family.

When she told me the news of what she had done, I threw her out of my life immediately, I was that angry.  The following 20 minutes after the news were the last I would ever see of her.  After some time to heal, and get my head back on straight, I realized that while we had a great time (most of the time), we just weren’t meant to be together, and from there I moved on.

Mary cheated on me with a mutual friend of ours, and again I was angry.  Mary is such a wonderful and amazing person, I was hurt beyond measure.  There was such love between us, and I felt it acutely when she cheated.  It hurt like hell.  She succumbed to temptation due to drink, but she’d always had a thing for this person.  She told me what she had done a few months after the fact, just wanting to get it off her chest, and again I was very angry.

*  *  *  *  *

T:
Afterward, nothing was better.
But nothing was really worse, either. Things just went back to normal.

I never felt all too bad about what I did until long, long after. I rarely felt the need to confess my secret. Now I can understand the pain I’ve caused and I feel horrible, but back then I didn’t. I felt fine. I felt like myself. I felt like all the warnings I’d given the people I dated in the very beginning were sufficient enough to make up for my wrongdoings.

If there was fallout, I would cry. But more-so because I felt like I should be crying. I feared my partner abandoning me immensely, but more than anything I was angry. I was angry at them for being angry at me. I was angry that just sex was such a big deal.

If there was fallout, I would refrain from doing anything else for a while. I would “work” on my relationship. I would fall madly in love again and do anything to keep my partner.

If there wasn’t fallout, I would be out again the next night.

I ran as soon as I was loved. Once there was too much love, I got bored. For a relationship of mine to work, I have to be in constant fear of the other person leaving. What does that say about me?

*  *  *  *  *

G:
My response to being cheated on was definitely to question myself worth
, because I think thats natural.  I had self esteem issues from a childhood of neglect, so I didn’t have a great sense of self worth to begin with.  I can say I’m not bad a potential partner goes.  I’m handsome, smart, kind, funny, helpful, and as vain as it may sound, pretty good in bed, but whatever your sense of self worth, you will question yourself.  Moreover it was just simple hurt.  I’d always been a very loyal person, and my loyalty was never returned, and it felt like I’d been wasting my time being honorable.

Mary I would forgive, in small steps, across years.  It took a long time to attempt to restore our relationship.  Intimacy took a while, trust took forever, although I can say I trust her now.  Mary was too important to me to simply cast aside like Mandy, but recovery was very difficult.  I’ve heard a refrain from other betrayed spouses on the blogs that even many years later, you can flash on the event, and the anger returns like the day it happened, and that did happen a lot until just this past year.

I just couldn’t let her go however.  She is kind, and loving, and always there for me, and I consider her stepping outside of our marriage to have been a singular mistake.

However, I don’t think I finally let it go until I myself had stepped outside of our marriage and slept with (a few) someone else(s).

*  *  *  *  *

T:
Now, looking back, I think I know.
I can’t explain where my sympathy or empathy or remorse was, but I can explain one of the reasons I did it.

I was searching for that first kiss feeling. Like an addict who spends their life trying to get back to that first high, I was trying to get back to mine. The early relationship high, when everything is wonderful and grand and there are no problems other than who finds out.

It’s not healthy, I know. It’s not an excuse. It’s not even remotely enough to help heal those I’ve hurt. But at least it’s a start to an explanation I’ll no doubt uncover in time.

*  *  *  *  *

G:
Me becoming a cheater myself had only a little to do with having been cheated on
.  Sure, its there, that sense of having been betrayed is not totally absent from the equation, but it was something else that pushed me over the line on that one.

I’m sorry to my fellow cheatees out there, I know your pain.  I’m sorry for the bad example I’m setting now, though I don’t regret doing it at all now.  To love, and have the capacity to love, is to invite pain.  This is life.  These things will happen. Its unfortunate, but there it is.  To those that have been betrayed, I’m very sorry.  To those that betray, well, know why you are doing it, and maybe try and find a better way.

*  *  *  *  *

To read more from Tempest, check out the rest of Nonsense & Shenanigans.

To read more from Gardener, check out his blog.

Mini-Post Mondays: Office Chokers, Marriage, Rockstar

Sorry for last week’s absence, but I’m back!

mini post

Office Chokers

When my brain sees “workers” and “cheap” next to each other, it automatically combines them into “chokers”.

So my latest spam comment was a bit more interesting when I thought it read “Your amazing informative tips and hints signifies a whole lot to me and even further to my office chokers.”

*  *  *  *  *

Marriage

For the record, we prefer “Marriage Equality”. Our marriages are just like yours. You don’t say “Straight Marriage” or “White Marriage” or “Black Marriage,” so don’t say “Gay Marriage.” It’s just marriage. Equal marriage.

On that note, we don’t get “gay married” either, we just get married.

*  *  *  *  *

Rockstar

I got prescription sunglasses and I totally feel like a rockstar.

*  *  *  *  *

Tagline

I changed the blog’s tagline — what do you think? I think it’s catchier. (Look on the header.)

*  *  *  *  *


Do you have anything for Mini-Post Mondays? Make your own post and link back to this one, or this page!