i have had it. I have reached the end of my rope. I cannot stand people today. I tried to
do something that I thought would be appreciated by an certain individual yesterday. Turns out the road to hell really is paved with good intentions, but I had no idea it came with undeserved criticism, and a 15 minute long chastising discussion (one sided) about how what I had done was completely wrong. WTF!!?!?!??!
Then, to add insult to injury, said person said they recognize that our thought processes were different: first and foremost because of my “illness,” it is always my fucking illness first, then other reasons such as different backgrounds, different life experiences, etc. But, always the “illness” first and always foremost. Yeah, I have had a much harder life than said individual. But, I, in many ways “chose” that lifestyle based on things that happened to me when I was much younger. Much, much younger. Like barely 16.
I did not ask for the event that occurred and I was in no way old enough to process it. So, I buried it with drugs and alcohol. I did not know what else to do. (There goes the fucking phone again. I am going to rip them out of the wall). When I brought up that snorting speed and cocaine for about 6 years isn’t real healthy for the lungs either (not to mention you tend to chain smoke while high on stimulants), said individual says to me: “You know you always try to compare your experiences like they are similar to others’.” Snorting coke and speed is not good for any part of the body involved. You snort the stuff up your nose…..not good for septum and sinuses. Since you are snorting it, it goes straight into your lungs. That’s fucking healthy, and then you chain smoke. How is that different than smoking for 40 years? Fuck this person. Who the hell do they think they are? Who the fuck died and made them capable of walking on water while the rest of us drown?
So, said conversation (again one sided) basically went something like this. No thank you for trying to do something nice, just you know I cannot smoke commercial brand cigarettes because of the additives. I have to smoke pure tobacco. Said individual has been smoking since I was born, maybe they should quit if brand name cigarettes are going to have such a negative effect. Smoking any cigarette is going to be bad for your throat, lungs, mouth, etc. Then said individual pointed out that when they bought cigarettes for us (yes, I took up smoking after then “incident when I was 16”), that they always got the ones with no additives even if it meant driving further. Well, as people who read my blog know, I totaled my car for the New Year (January 5th). So,I have to drive another car that I am not entirely comfortable with (it is huge compared to my old car.) So, I went as far as I could before the anxiety set in.
I am so fucking sorry I tried to do something that I thought would be appreciated. Won’t happen again. Trust me. I may make mistakes all the time (due to my “illness”), but I do learn from some of them. This one I learned from. Good intentions are not appreciated. I feel taken for granted, I feel like I do not ever want to try to do anything nice for this person ever again.
Oh, and then there is what I found in my email yesterday from my Internet company. Apparently, I downloaded a “film” back in December from some company DBA as “Devil‘s Films”. First of all, I would not be looking at “films” produced by such a company: I find that I lose interest in about a nanosecond, and they are not my preferred viewing material. Apparently, this was a niche film involving two “grannies” getting down with each other. WTF would I be doing watching that kind of crap? I am 41 years old. Not 65. Were I not to be completely bored by the genre in general, I would prefer younger people, with a plot that actually tells a story….. not just two or more people doing their thing with each other. Now that I have finished raving and ranting about that, here comes the real problem. The account is in my name, with my email, my address. I “own” the account. It doesn’t matter what someone else does with it, I am the responsible party. I am the one who could get fined, I am the one who could be criminally prosecuted. Not the dipshit that downloaded the “film” in the first place. And, then said jackass says, “I don’t even have the video anymore. It was boring so I deleted it”.
Does not matter if the “film is still on the computer or not. The point is that it was downloaded in the first place. And the Internet company knows it. It came from my router’s IP address, it has my router’s MAC address, it has everything associated with the router’s configuration. My router and my IP and MAC addresses. That’s how it was traced in the first place. I am not a techno-idiot. I know how to trace people from their IP addresses and the MAC address of the computer. I can pin it down to a physical address, in whatever town, city, state. I can pull up satellite maps of the area. This is how the company discovered the copyright infringement.
For crying out loud, if you are going to risk the fine and/or jail time, why download two grannies getting it on. If that’s what you are into, you are married to a person in the wrong age group. Even at 41, I am considered in this realm as “mature,” meaning I am not 20 something. Find a new fucking hobby (pardon the bad pun). Like, oh I do not know, paying attention to your wife who is very close to leaving you, or at least, getting what she doesn’t get at home somewhere else.
I have never cheated on a lover before, but I am getting damn close. I get no attention, no affection, it is a given that I will clean the kitchen and cook dinner. No thank you’s. Those are implied. It may be implied, but it is nice to hear once in a while. I am so close to ending this relationship so I don’t end up cheating because I have very strong feelings about that. My father cheated on my mom with a family “friend” for about 6 years until they both divorced and then married each other. So, I have a thing about cheating. It is wrong. Break up first if you think you are going to the dark side. That way no one gets seriously hurt, and there is no having to forgive and forget. I am that close. But, considering what my mom went through, I just cannot do it. I will divorce first. It’s not like this is a marriage anyway. He sleeps on the couch and has for about 3 months. I sleep in the bed, and I won’t let him sleep there anymore. It has been about the same amount of time since we had sex (I know, overshare), but it is relevant to my wanting to cheat. I don’t understand.
My “illness” has not popped up recently which said person claims is why they are sleeping on the couch and we are not engaged in “normal” marital relations. I am 41 freaking years old. I still have a very healthy sex drive, and I do not even get kisses or hugs. I am talking zero physical affection. And, he wonders why I don’t put on my lingerie anymore. It such an obvious answer. The last few times I have tried that, I got shot down in flames, and felt like such an idiot. Since I do not feeling like an idiot for trying to initiate sexual relations with my husband, I stopped. No reaction, no sexy lingerie. That’s the way it works. What is the point if you get no reaction? You just sit there all dolled up while he watches PBS Newshour or some shit like that. It is humiliating. I am just going to let him have his “fantasy” amateur porn stars. They seem to do more for him than I can.
Besides, It is not like I am ugly. Quite the opposite. I am not beautiful, but I am very pretty. Coke bottle figure, a little more voluptuous than I would like to be, but not bad. I am well proportioned, I have eyes that change from grey to green, I have a large chest (which he claims he has always liked in women; not me apparently). Basically, I have no problem finding men. Most women don’t because men are, in general (not always), interested in one thing from women, and it isn’t philosophical conversation. Robin Williams once said that men only have enough blood to run one head at a time. True.
So, I am completely pissed off while at the same time really sad. Mixed-episode? I do not think so. I think everything in my little world has collapsed, and I am not handling it as well as I could be. I am getting angry, I am getting depressed, I am feeling unloved, unwanted, undesirable, not sexy (even though I know some guys who would disagree, just not the main one), I do not even know why I spend so much time doing my make-up (unless it is to out-do other women; this is likely. Women are catty like that).
I have been spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about everything I have done wrong both to myself, and to other people. Spending too much time thinking
about when everything was simpler, happier, I was very much loved by someone that I will love until the day I die. I gave up that love to marry my husband, and not a day goes by that I do not think about him and the last time I saw him at the bike run in Ignacio. I drove from where I am to Colorado just to see him for four hours and be able to snuggle with him.
I asked him one night a few years ago if I could tell him something and not have him think I was crazy (we’d been partying that night). He told me to go on ahead, and tell him. I told him I loved him, and he told me he had loved me for a long time. That’s all he had to say, and he only said it once (he would only say it once anyway; that’s just the way he was. I was one of a very few people he talked to, do not know why. That’s just the way it was). But, since I knew that he never said anything without thinking about it and meaning it, I believed him. I believe to this day that his love for me has not diminished. He was just like that. He never, ever said anything he did not absolutely mean. And, I gave up this perfect (in my opinion) love to marry my husband.
I have spent the last 2 years wondering what the fuck I was thinking. I gave up a man who would, literally, kill for me (old biker enforcer for some gang he was with when he was young), and who loved me with all his heart and being for feeling like the ugliest, most unlovable, most unwanted, least desirable woman on earth. I tell myself these things are not true, but it is really hard to hang onto a positive self image when all you are to the man who is supposed to love you unconditionally does not. and puts conditions on that love, and thinks of you as a walking mental illness. I am NOT a walking mental health issue; I am a person who happens to have a mood disorder among other things, but I am NOT my diagnoses.
I am a person who has other personality traits. I am a person who was and is loved by a man that I gave up, obviously he saw something in me that was not just a malignant mood disorder and PTSD. He truly loved ME with all my quirks and flaws and faults. I suspect he still does. You only get one maybe two chances at love like that, and I have used up my two. There was another man when I was 17 that loved me unconditionally, and still does. We just can’t be around each other for very long. The tension between us is palpable. I never stopped loving him, and I know deep down in that hidden part of your soul that he will always love me. He “rescued” me from the fall-out of the “incident ” when I was 16. My parents, especially my father, just hated him. Mostly because he was 24 and I was 17. However, if it had not been for him, I do not think I would have worked out some of the feelings and behaviours that I was experiencing.
He knew about the “incident,” and he was/is one of the most respectful and compassionate (at least to me, maybe not others) people I have known. He is the only man I know who asked me if it would be okay to kiss me. I have never known another man who actually asked. They just did, and assumed I would be okay with it. He asked me if everything he did was going to be okay before he would actually do it. It was like he was following some college/university’s date rape lists before they were ever in existence. Nothing happened that I didn’t want to happen, and for that, I will respect and love him dearly for the rest of his and my lives. He was so gentle and respectful, even though he is a cranky older guy now. When I see him now, he undergoes a strange transformation. He becomes gentler somehow. He is not the cranky guy that has had one hell of a tough life. Makes me look like a fortune baby, sheltered from everything. If only my parents knew how much he helped me, and kept me from going completely astray, they (my father) would have a totally different picture of who he was/is, and what he meant to my life. I mean, granted, he did sort of finally get me to try drugs (weed). But, smoking weed compared to where I ended up is child’s play. But, that is a whole other post. The “incident” and the ensuing hedonism. It was fun until it wasn’t fun anymore.
I think that is what I am missing: the fun part of the ensuing hedonism. I am remembering way too much of that, and not enough of the parts that really, really sucked and landed me in an inpatient drug rehab. That’s how I have stayed relatively clean for about 20 years: remembering the really super fucked up parts of being as close to a drug addict as I ever want get. I remember going drinking with my biker, having him send me to the bathroom with a baggy and a $20, and then just giving me the baggy. But, that was about a once a month occurrence not an I stayed up for a week kind of thing like it was. When me and the curmudgeon were on more “speaking” terms, i was stoned all the time, but I do not really see anything wrong with that. All I wanted was ice cream and pizza My parents do not even mind that I smoke. They are simply concerned that it is illegal. But, then they were hippies until they became yuppies. They are still cool about it though.
So, now that I have written a novella about why I am pissed off (not so much anymore), and feeling sad, if anyone wants to wade through it, go for it. My life is not that interesting. I can’t write poetry, I can’t write short stories, novels or anything that is fictional. I write my life, and when I come back to read it, I realize how little of myself i actually reveal. I wish I could write my life as a fictional novel, replacing key characters, and events with the semblance of truth. You know one of those books or TV shows based on real events but fictionalized so no one gets hurt. I would be me. I do not know any other way to be, but everyone else would be a charachiture of themselves. Of course, by the time I ever got around to writing my journals as a novel, some people would be dead including some people that I love dearly, and have known for 2/3rds or all of my life. I do not know what I am going to do when some people die. I have thought about that because one person I know is quite ill and won’t see a doctor. I expect him to die within the next few years. Way before his time.
I have got to stop thinking. It is just making me long for lives lived that cannot be returned to me. It is making me question too much. Have I done all I can, or do I have more to give the world? Have I taken too much and not given back enough to meet my karmic debt? Am I just a “cute” drain on society and people around me? Is that all I am is a cute mental patient, or do I have it in me to do more, be more? Great, now I am crying. I am going to ruin my make-up Did I mention that I have Adult ADD? I can’t stop thinking. That’s fucked up. I need to live in the present, the here and now, not some glorified past that was not always so glorious.
I guess I needed to write, and if you do not want to read all of it, hey, that’s okay with me. I just needed to get some stuff out of my system. I have been feeling very angry, and disappointed for a while now. I guess it built up But, if you want to follow my illogical train of thought, more power to you. I cannot even follow it.
End of current story, but give me another 2 weeks to a month, and expect a full feature movie