tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2416961332791921822024-03-12T17:53:26.475-07:00Life and Times of a Recovering SlackerAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-6444856642148237762016-01-31T20:01:00.001-08:002016-01-31T20:01:58.014-08:00Help Me, If It's Not a Burden <p dir="ltr">Those who are truly depressed don't want to ask for help because they feel like they're a burden to their friends and family. I know that story, this isn't my first round in this fight. <br>
I'm currently at the stage where I feel like I'm a burden, people could care less, and they'll ridicule me. I know it's not true, bit it's very convincing. The people who I want to confide to, that I want in my corner are either busy, have enough on their plate or want nothing to do with me. That's why I'm in this mindset. <br>
The cause this time could be a number of things. Chemical imbalance is the main guess. Ongoing stress in my life could also be a contributer. The trifecta is rejection from the people I want in life. Basic rejection is easy to deal with but being rejected by someone I've become attached to just rips you apart. <br>
At the moment I've been rejected by the last woman I've loved, a best friend, someone I've admired for his lifestyle and finally my son. The first and the last are the worst blows. Those have been making me want to detach from the world the most. My "best friend" really does have enough on her plate and it's only going to get worse, my issues are irrelevant. Everything else can be dealt with. <br>
I can go back to my old ways. I can't mediate, I can't have sex to dull it out although that is the easiest way to deal with it, minus the guilt that follows, and I can't run away from it. I need to find other avenues. </p>
<p dir="ltr">The question is what can I do? Go work out at the gym? I'm paying for a membership for some reason. Let's see if that helps? </p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-5308428146554171162014-01-08T23:46:00.002-08:002014-01-08T23:46:47.400-08:00The victory has been cancelled.<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Everything was going to
plan. Everything was fine. This week was going so well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">And then Wednesday
night happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Ironically enough
getting the email that the first 5k run event I was planning was cancelled, yet
again is what pissed me off the most. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bqlN3PYi_6E/Us5Tl6P_GaI/AAAAAAAAFsU/9G-EJHsblOA/s1600/NVC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bqlN3PYi_6E/Us5Tl6P_GaI/AAAAAAAAFsU/9G-EJHsblOA/s1600/NVC.jpg" height="217" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">For months now I’ve
been training for this. Not because I wanted to run 5km but more because I
wanted one of those photos showing that I was at one of these events. It was a
victory for me that I had gone from a 300+ pound elephant to a much slimmer and
more in shape runner. Even in grade
school, when I was thin, I couldn’t even run a single quarter of a mile lap.
But this past fall I began training myself to run and made it in a few weeks to
running the 3.1 miles in a 5k run before pushing myself to running five miles
by the middle of December. February 1<sup>st</sup>
couldn’t come soon enough. Until they cancelled it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nnIpzkYh3Eo/Us5Tu37ONWI/AAAAAAAAFsc/C3a3LuCy1IQ/s1600/Untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nnIpzkYh3Eo/Us5Tu37ONWI/AAAAAAAAFsc/C3a3LuCy1IQ/s1600/Untitled.png" height="178" width="320" /></a></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">Now I have to wait until
May for the next run I registered for and my victories will still be private
until then. I know it sounds shallow for
me to do this for attention but when you spend most of your adult life morbidly
obese only to work hard to be in the best shape of your life, you want to show
it off. I don’t dress in gaudy outfits; I don’t show off my body (That would be
a bad idea because being over a hundred pounds overweight means that skin will
not go back where it should). I want to be active and show people that I can do
it. That’s not too much to ask for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-19018282000990503502013-08-26T11:00:00.003-07:002013-08-26T11:00:39.818-07:00Time to Catch Up, Time to Move On, Time to go Forward<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">It’s sad how rare I
have the time to blog about the things that has been going on here. It’s even
worse that the times I’ve wanted to blog, I’ve been bitter and angry to the
point that it would come out as a spiteful ranting instead of a little bit of
insight of lessons learned I’d rather dish out. I think it’s best to fill my
readers in on what’s been going on over these last three months to better
understand the lack of posts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Relationships<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">I was seeing this woman
over the past six months that has been utterly amazing. She is loving,
supportive, silly, a guiding light and so much more. Yet we didn’t work out
because so much of my life got in the way. In hindsight, there are so many
things I could have done to prevent this. So many things I should have done.
And there were so many things I did far too late. For that I’m angry at myself
and others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The first problem ended
up being my mother. I never thought I would say that nor did I believe things
were to become so hostile. But since my parents moved in it’s become a
nightmare. My mother is a giant ball of passive aggressiveness that you can
only ignore for so long. She is intimidated easily by people, especially those
who have made accomplishments in their lives. If you have a degree in higher
learning, heaven help you. If you stand up to her, she plays innocent while
making little comments that are just below a direct insult. In the beginning,
you can make the excuse of it being just part of her personality, like an
idiosyncratic tick but after a while it gets old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Let it be known that
this is not an attack on my mom, nor do I hate her. This is a direct
observation that I have been seeing over the years. I’ve said to her many times
that I love her but we can only get along when we live 50 miles apart. The fact
that we’ve been in the same house for the past five months it’s a miracle that
we’re talking at all. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The problem here was
that the tension between my mother and her became so bad that my girlfriend
refused to come here if my mother was in this house. We originally hoped that
we could last the six months of her being here and rebuild but add this and
other factors piling on us, I couldn’t make it work and her and I agree that
the last thing either of us want is for us to resent each other instead of
loving each other.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">The other factor was my
friendship with A. the ex-girlfriend. I have now learned that ex’s cannot be
friends right off the bat. There has to be a time to move on before you can
even attempt to be friends or even civil with an ex. Although I had known I
didn’t want A. in my romantic life again, it never occurred to me that I would
still not be over the relationship and the emotional rollercoaster that it was
over the years of on and off again romance. A. and I being friends again wasn’t
normally a problem until she brought up her relationship issues with her new
boyfriend. It pissed me off that she was willing to ignore things about him
that she had the biggest problems with me. It also annoyed me when she would
complain about him so very often and I’d wonder who and what she complained
about me. I had let go of her but I didn’t let go of the relationship and it affected
my relationship. When I finally figured that out I made the choice to end my
friendship with A. to save my relationship. It didn’t go well in the end and
there is nothing but anger between A. and I, which is exactly what should have
happened.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Finally the most
destructive issue was me. We did so well in the beginning and it was easy to discuss
the future, but instead I got spooked. I’ve never been married and although I
eventually do want to get married, I want to be sure without any doubts. When
she began to talk about it, I got scared and began to retreat. Relationships aren’t
simple and they never follow a plan. Someone can be ready for the next step
before the other is and unfortunately I wasn’t ready to take the next step yet
and that was perhaps the biggest issue that ended us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Family<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">My daughter has been
doing much better since she was hospitalized. I keep a separate blog <a href="http://tscdad.blogspot.com/">here</a> about life with her. My son begins
high school tomorrow which makes me feel old. My parents have lived here for
five months and as much as I love them, I want my house back, I want my bedroom
back and I want to invite people over again. Is that too much to ask?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">Outside of my home I
got in contact with my brother Jonathan and slowly we’re building a
relationship. He has so many questions about the same things I did five years
ago. I’m hoping he has a better chance of getting to know everyone than I felt
that I did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 16.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Outcome<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%;">As of now I feel a
little trapped and lost. Things that needed to happen did. I may not like how
it all turned out but I have a better chance to sort my head out and move
forward. Life is never perfect and often I’m not happy with things, but all I
can do is learn from my mistakes and continue to move forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-44654476601171622082013-05-24T23:55:00.005-07:002013-05-24T23:55:54.201-07:00My House is Now My Home<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;"> I have had a constant fear of permanence that
has led to the ‘Three Year Periods” of my life. I have never attended school
for more than three years. I have never lived anywhere in my adult life longer
than three years. No job longer than three years and the only relationship that
lasted more than three years was with C. and I spent a good portion of those years
trying to destroy that. In short, I fear permanence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">I lived in my house for three years
before I finally treated this as my home. Maybe it was the fact that I was
content with being here past the three year mark that I decided to shape the
rest of the place outside my bedroom to something that belonged to me. That
simple step was done by adding family pictures to the place. Now this place is
my home. This place has been remodeled and it’s still my home. The carpet is
what I chose, the kitchen counters are my pick as well. Nothing here simple
came with the place. Nothing here is a remainder of the former owners. This is
my home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">This is the place where I’m supposed
to go to when I feel frightened or lost. This is where my family lives. It is
where I raise my daughter full time and keep her on a routine so she can feel
safe and loved. This is a place I bring people I want to let into my life more
than the average, casual acquaintance. This is a place I come to after a long
trip or stressful event that I can take a deep breath or crash in my bed and
know all my creature comforts are here when I need them. I have lived in this
house longer than three years and I have the right to call it my home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">I write this because the past two
weeks I have spent wondering what is going to happen next. Will there be a
battle for me to keep it? Will I spend the next few months feeling like a prisoner
in my own home? Will my life be turned upside down because of this place? I don’t
know what to expect and for that my stress levels are at an all time high. Little by little, my home is turning back
into a house I currently live in. The aura of permanence is fading and I will
not stand for that. I intend to fight for this place. Preferably in a peaceful
way where all parties can agree to original ideal and life can quickly return
to its scheduled normalcy. But if it can’t I will fight tooth and nail for my
home. I will exhaust every legal avenue and lay waist to bridges formed to keep
my home. This is not just an address anymore. This </span></span><span style="line-height: 24px;">isn't</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 150%;"> just walls, floors, a
roof and furniture. This is a place I intend to put in roots and raise my
family and I will not give it up gracefully.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 150%;">These are my terms that I open the
door for a peace agreement. This is my declaration of independence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-50663251788645528572013-05-04T19:03:00.001-07:002013-05-04T19:03:54.916-07:00Helpless and Scares<p dir=ltr>I am a single father to a 15 year old daughter with Tuberous Sclerosis Complex, a genetic disease that affects the brain, skin, heart and kidneys. In her case she is mentally disabled in the Autistic Spectrum and has seizures that are usually kept under control with medication. She loves attention but often does things on her own like your average stubborn teenager. </p>
<p dir=ltr>She is tall, beautiful and until she spoke, you would never know she had a problem. But when she does, she speaks in a monotone voice, refers to herself in third person and describes events in metaphor. </p>
<p dir=ltr>Her mother lost all custody in 2005 and the last time she saw her mother was in 2009. Over the past eight years it has been primarily her and I.</p>
<p dir=ltr>The mental disability has been an issue that has taught me patience and to remove expectations. However her seizures are what has made me feel the most helpless.</p>
<p dir=ltr>She currently has suffered every type of seizure. Her seizures have landed her in the hospital multiple times. She cannot take a shower or bath unattended for fear she'll have a seizure and drown or hit her head on the faucet or bath. There is a plastic sheet over her mattress for when she looses bladder control and there has been no medicine yet that has managed to get them under control.</p>
<p dir=ltr>Early this week she began having Tonic Seizures that were occurring every couple of minutes. I rushed her to emergency room where she was given Lorazepam and a loader of phenobarbital that has knocked her out for the past 4 days. To this day, she's still a little loopy and wants to constantly sleep. The seizures are no longer happening every few minutes bit she is still plagued with tonic and emotional seizures every day.</p>
<p dir=ltr>These past few days I've felt the most helpless and frightened. There is no physical clue to why these seizures have suddenly begun happening. There are new stressers in her life, with the remodel and my parents moving in, the only thing that may be causing stress would be the change in her daily routines, which I don't think would cause seizures like this. Now all I can do is wait for her next neurological appointment. </p>
<p dir=ltr>I don't mind the input from others. But some of them insist that they have better experience in parenting my daughter. I understand they may be parents themselves but none of them have gone through this on a daily level. The intentions are good, but it's insulting when I hear people comparing their experience with mine. You don't understand and please listen when I tell you that. To me it feels like you're questioning my parenting more than helpful advice and I have enough stress with the fear and helplessness of dealing with my daughter's condition. </p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-10888171053478718512013-04-28T11:59:00.001-07:002013-04-28T12:23:49.101-07:00Remodeling<p dir=ltr>The past three weeks my home has had its major changes. My roommate Erin moving out, which given the circumstances was welcomed by all. My parents moving in, which has caused changes in the family dynamic as well as me giving up the Master Bedroom for the next 6 months. New carpet throughout the house. New ceramic tile flooring in the dining room, entry and kitchen. Refaced cabinets that made this house smell like solvent for the past few days, my front door restored from dog damage and finally new furniture for the living room and dining room. When it's finally finished with the counters and sink, this place will look nothing like it did before. </p>
<p dir=ltr>What I've learned in the past few weeks is that given the economy, haggling has never been so easy and everyone is offering a better deal than the previous guy. This has made the remodel reach it's completion sooner and under budget.</p>
<p dir=ltr>And for the first time, my place feels like home. It has been given its own personal touch of beauty far from the as is look of when we first bought it. And in addition, its managed to wash away some of the memories of the past 4 years. Gone are the damaged doors and baseboards from my former roommate's evil Chihuahua, my former lover's first dog and my dog's mischief. Gone is the line on my wall from a chinchilla cage placed there during a long Holiday season. Gone now is the ugly green leather sofas we'd waste the day or have discussions on. Gone is the old fence where my roommate's now deceased tweeker boyfriend broke a panel in a fit of anger. Gone is the carpet that I would have to constantly clean after bouts of my aunt's incontinence and finally, gone is the bed that is filled with as too many memories and regrets that only seedy motels see. </p>
<p dir=ltr>My life has taken on many personal changes these past few months. It's about time that my home reflect those changes and let go of the past. On to new beginnings.</p>
<div class='separator' style='clear: both; text-align: center;'> <a href='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-TPmOvWNQd18/UX1xrk6u3YI/AAAAAAAADC0/uw62zFlpgrM/s1600/PhotoGrid_1367095665845.jpg' imageanchor='1' style='margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;'> <img border='0' src='http://lh6.ggpht.com/-TPmOvWNQd18/UX1xrk6u3YI/AAAAAAAADC0/uw62zFlpgrM/s640/PhotoGrid_1367095665845.jpg' /> </a> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-45569431159631264922012-06-01T10:12:00.001-07:002012-06-01T10:12:13.099-07:00Time to Escape<div><p>It's camping day. And I'm still packing. Normally I would blame my procrastinating nature but the confirmation didn't happen til yesterday. </p>
<p>Most of my gear is packed already and all that's left are pots and pans, clothes, food and toiletries.  Not much more work to be done in the 3 hours we have left til we leave. </p>
<p>but at least I know the tent is still on good shape. </p>
<br/><img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/-s3ue_dlTNo8/T8j36WwJqKI/AAAAAAAABec/kUheoSl5Vrc/2012-05-31%25252015.18.56.png' /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-2497843177979556052012-01-14T21:48:00.001-08:002012-01-14T21:56:33.696-08:00Endings and Explanations (Letting Go of the Wrong)<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">One major issues I have with break-ups is the reevaluation of the relationship. Essentially the post mortem of what we really were, what damage it did and what did I learn from the mistakes. With those revelations comes a period of anger when you realize there were many realities in which were denied and many issues that were never stated. </span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">I know full well I made a lot of mistakes in the relationship. I make no excuses and take full responsibility for them. My reactions to some of the events I am not proud of and I took ownership to them once I was caught. Some of those actions were taken as a retaliation to being hurt but that’s no excuse. The fact was I did the wrong thing. I should have voiced how I felt more clearly and given an ultimatum of sorts, instead of simply taking it. Doing so I would have either ended something that was needing to end long before it actually did. Instead, I simple kept my mouth shut at the wrong times, opened it without any real form of tact and didn’t realize what was really going on until long after we ended. Because of this, both of us ended up suffering our shares of hurt and anger and we now have no real contact with each other.</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">In my case, my pain and anger developed from a disturbing realization of what we really were and what was really happening. On one side, our problems began when I resumed sleeping with my ex when being constantly told by A. that we were “just dating” and being hidden by friends and family of our relationship. Looking back on that event, my first reaction was the right one, the relationship should have ended. The cause was way more in depth then just the title she dubbed us. I look back now and her divorce was and is still pending. I never once thought I was a home wrecker. She was in a relationship with one other person between her husband and I and had been involved with others before me as well. The warning bell occurred the first night I met her. She still has a party lifestyle that I had grown out of. During my 20’s where I was part of the club and party scenes she was a married woman who was starting her family. Now that she was given a real amount of freedom, she took advantage of the lifestyle in her late 20’s and 30’s. Some of this has given her and us issues but that’s not my problem any longer. </span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">Another issue I had with her was something I never realized until recently. A. has a lot of male friends, all of which she had never physically cheated on me with any of them. However she has had <strong><em><a href="http://www.oprah.com/relationships/Emotional-Affairs-101">emotional affairs</a></em></strong> with all of them. This is more damaging in my opinion because it creates tension and jealousy along with mistrust. Combine that with her inability to actually commit to a real relationship and finally an inability to take criticism without crossing a thin line of talking down to her like a parent would makes it difficult to communicate. Simple put, she can tell me everything I’m doing wrong but can’t be told the same without a verbal lashing, being accused of a Jekyll and Hyde mood swing or a slap in the face. </span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">Also A. has admitted to me that she requires a lot of personal attention. A level she admits is high but in the end I realized that there was no way any person could realistically give that level of attention to her without causing serious damage to my priorities and self worth. In the end, My self esteem was lower with her than it had been ever been before. I had major stress events because I couldn’t meet her needs and I’d watch her travel to others to get her attention fix. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">Finally there was something that I fought long to deny out of guilt or fear. The fact is, I do blame her for what happened last Valentines day. Something I will not put on a blog but have spoken to close friends and therapist about had me realize that her actions, her mental state and choices she made at the time all contributed to the disaster we encountered that day. I’m still unable to forgive her and I can no longer deny what I truly believe happened. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">All of this lead to a huge unbalance in relationship equality that easily ended in disaster and I harbor a huge amount of anger toward her. I see most of our relationship lacking relevance and because of it, I feel I wasted a lot of my heart of someone who was unable to reciprocate it and because of that I made the choice to remove her out of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">She is right, I did throw her away, I couldn’t live like that anymore. I have a ton of issues internally and externally that I’ve needed to work out to be where I want to be and move forward and I no longer think I will be able to make those changes while catering to her. Maybe had I met someone more in tune to her needs and was able to include me in her life instead of having me as a part of physical and emotional entourage, things could have turned out great between us. Instead her quest for self worth turned into selfishness and the added stress those choices made by her made her disposable as I followed the first rule of therapy, Take whatever is stressing you out the most and get rid of it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: small;">I still don’t see her as an evil person, far from it. I see her as a wonderful woman capable of being an inspiration to those around her and one day I believe she will find someone who will help her realize her needs and meet them in every way. I’m sad it wasn’t me but everything happens for a reason. </span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-85287897389063513192012-01-09T00:40:00.000-08:002012-01-09T10:16:01.996-08:00The Beginning is the End is the Beginning<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> There are times when relationships have to come to an end
more than you would expect. It isn’t pleasant, or at least my situation but it
had to end. I’m not writing this to create drama, nor am I starting a blame
game. Overall it’s me trying to sort it out and maybe give a clearer
explanation to why things ended up the way they did. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> I thought about trying to explain in vague but every time
I began to write it, it makes the situation look wrong in so many ways, for
both of us, and overall it’s no one else’s business. What happened between us
is strictly that. Our lives together good and bad we’re between us and who ever
we decided on the individual level to inform of our time together. It is not
for the rest of the World Wide Web. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> So why did I decide to end everything? Those who have
ended a relationship may have problems being around them. Maybe you are angry,
maybe you feel betrayed, maybe you still care and wish things ended
differently, or didn’t end at all. Whichever the reason, the relationship and
any and all contact had to end and because of that, someone got hurt. My reasons
behind my actions were simple. I couldn’t be around her because it hurt. I care too much and in the end with some
circumstances I no longer have that right to care, nor can I be kept in thought
to something I no longer have a say in the matter. There is a far more in depth
explanation I could give but in order to do so would require me to divulge too
much personal information that I’m not allowed to share. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> With this in mind, I had taken steps long before the argument
that ultimately ended out friendship occurred. I had removed her from my phone’s
contact list and Email address book. We still had contact with each other on
various social networks but when I eventually brought up something to her on
those accounts, tension began to occur with things that we had resolved in the
past. The final conversation we had, the boiling point had been reached. Things
were said to each other. Some, not intending to hurt but to shed light on
matters were taken in the wrong tone. This has happened before and subjects
were blown way out of proportion. We finally both hit our limits and things
were said on both our parts to hurt. I asked her to remove any connection to my
family and after some debate, she obliged. I knew I hurt her and I have no
doubt she knew she hurt me. Especially when she placed blame for a mutual
tragedy we encountered on me and the divine in a mutual cause and effect. I was
hurt and pissed with that comment and had the argument had happened face to
face instead of over the phone, the outcome may have been worse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> So here we are. We now have zero contact with each other
in any way. We are not linked on any form of social network, our phones have
erased each other from their memories and I trust any trace of me in her home,
photos, letters and such are long gone in the garbage or worse as most of mine
are, sadly by her doing due to a previous issue that eventually lead us here. Anything
else she left behind here was either boxed away or tossed to remove traces of
her as well. The only thing I could not remove was the stuffed cow because she
was right, it was a symbol of something else.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;"> Now I try to move on. I am still keeping to my promises I
made when her and I were together mainly because she was right, I need to take
charge in my life and work to improve it on so many aspects. I talk things out
to close friends and professionals to help clear my mind. I am doing my best to
being a better parent to my children. I am making plans and sticking to achieving
my goals. I even began to include myself in the community and started going to
church, looking for moral guidance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">This
all may seem strange to my friends, especially my attending church but I see
the church as a place to receive guidance even when my faith is still in
question. It’s not me finding God in the mist of this tragedy but a place where
I can get a better understanding of life as I find myself better to listen to
others opinions instead of my usual retort to any criticism given to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Overall
in the end I harbor no ill toward her and I really do wish she will find the
truest happiness that she wants to achieve without any repercussions from
anyone or anything. My only true regret is that removing her from my life also
removed her children that I had come to love so much, I will miss them terribly
as much as I will miss her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">I
realized what I needed in my life. I am out to better myself and reach goals I
set out to meet some time ago. I realized that I want someone in my life I can
relate to and challenge me. I want someone who I can see fantastic qualities in
and accept her faults. I want someone who I can have a future with. I am currently
taking the steps needed to be the person I want to be and when I’m ready to
take that next step, I will look to making my future the way I want it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">A.
and I didn’t work. We were both troubled in our own way to make what we had
last. There is no doubt that we loved each other and no matter what happened
between us, we both care for each other. But we both made choices that insured
we would never work. She made a choice that she did not want to get married,
maybe a person she could spend her life with but because of her bitter divorce
and previous betrayal from another, she kept her guard up. I was a person who
felt so unworthy to be with her that I pushed her away at any sign of trouble.
We could have been a wonderful couple, but our timing was off and now here we
are. She was right in the end she wanted someone who could accept her lifestyle
and be the person she saw in me. From my point of view, I am willing to change
but I want it to be how I see fit without the direct influence of others
because I wanted to be sure the changes I made would be for me and only by me
and in the end I discovered a great many things. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">I
will be grateful to her in what she has taught me over our time together. She
has taught me to listen and to realize that even when I am sure I am right, I
can easily be proven wrong. I learned that what I fear will not always be the
outcome and honestly, although not always well received is better than lies. I
will take what she taught me and live with it for the rest of my life and I
will have a better understanding of what I want and what I can tolerate. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 200%;">Maybe
one day in the future we can be friends. One day we may run into each other and
be civil or friendly, but only time will tell. Until then I will go on with my
life and rebuild. I am sorry for some of the things I has said whether I
meant them or not. I regret having to end our friendship but it was what I know
is best for us to heal from our heartbreak. <o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-10781776316266953982011-12-10T01:43:00.001-08:002011-12-10T01:50:53.089-08:00Storm DamageI need to say this but I need to be vague as well.<br />
<br />
I am so incredibly lost right now. The synapses on and around my limbic system are firing and misfiring in a brainstorm unseen in my brain. I know the activity is swirling around and I feel it messing with other parts of my brain and body, causing me to feel torn up inside and out on a physical level.<br />
<br />
I know the reasons behind this mess, I noticed the triggers as they happened.<br />
<br />
But what I am still unsure of is the root cause.<br />
<br />
Was it caused by you? Or is it still stemming from my own history of fear and inadequacies?<br />
<br />
It's something I need to figure out and until then, I need to hide it from you.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-42436365000347247292011-07-20T03:02:00.000-07:002011-07-20T03:02:11.265-07:00Question Become Reflections, Viewed For Your Satisfaction<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">There are moments in life where asking a question can be the dumbest act you can do but somehow end up being the best thing you needed.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A.’s parents are in town today and there have been conversations between her and I that have been friendly, supportive and joking proving that she and I can be friends. Naturally I have to find a question to ruin that attitude, because I’m stupid. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>A little background as I explain the situation further. Last year when A. and I were seeing each other and her parents paid her a visit for a week. During this time, she distanced herself from me and most other people due to the discomfort regarding her family. The reasons for that are hers and I won’t begin to analyze that situation. With this being brought into play along with other issues that were secretly eroding what little of a relationship we were forming, it made things even more volatile and would eventually cause a meltdown stemming from so many different avenues of insecurities from both of us to lead us to where we are now. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had already began to react badly to smaller issues, such as being in a “dating” relationship and hiding ourselves from her children and some of her friends, our level of intimacy that we began last winter that added to the equation and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>made an already bad situation far worse. I didn’t like being a secret. I didn’t like the feeling that I was not good enough to discuss with others or to not be introduced to loved ones. I had a history of being a secret with others for much more valid reasons than the reasons she had brought to my attention, Her explanation, though it made sense, made me feel lower than I had ever felt before with her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Returning back to the present, I asked the dumbest question I could have ever asked her. Has her new guy friend, the one she spends most of her time with today, met her parents? I knew it was a mistake the second I asked and I dreaded the answer because I already knew it. She informed me that he has not met them but it was a possibility. And with that possibility, it solidified that feeling I had last year to a point where my state of mind is permanently changed. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This time I honestly don’t care of her reaction to what’s on my mind. We aren’t together, so vocalizing my issues no longer frightens me. I felt that in her eyes I was less than sewage. (That may be a bit overdramatic). I reminded her that I felt as if I was a big secret to her last year but now this friend has a better opportunity to meet them than I ever did when I was more than just a friend to her then. She reminded me that the chance he has to meet them is only slight, same as it was for me. But I don’t think she remembers the conversation we had last year before their visit. She had no intention of me meeting them. It was awkward to her and her mother. This was a big step for her to introduce me to her family as she was still going through a divorce with her husband. She stated in the end that she had no intention of hurting me because of these facts. I believe her.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But intention means little when you’re hurt regardless. Not to mention a phrase of hers I have begun to despise, “I’m not perfect, I mess up, I’m sorry I made you feel this way”. It’s the closest she has come to an apology with me recently. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This isn’t a deal-breaker and I don’t hate her because of this. I was clearly hurt and upset but I won’t lose myself in a fit of anger. Instead I went over to my new favorite diner to hang out with my friend I. who has a way to let me vent without letting the anger in me from blowing up. We’ve only been friends for a short time, but I am more comfortable with her than many other friends I have. We get each other and find our revelations about each of our lives amusing and helpful to each other. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I. is right, I am a caring person, which is a dramatic difference from the “Asshole” I tried so hard to be over my adult life to mask the pain I was going though and reflect it on others. I realized two things after I cleared my head.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Two things that are the core of a relationship are communication and self-esteem. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With that in mind, had my self-esteem been the way it is today and I voiced my issues to her, we’d be in a better place, no matter what the outcome was. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Today I realize that the person I am will not be a secret to someone I intend to have a relationship with. Secrets are for lovers having an illicit affair, not for a growing relationship. I will voice the problem early on to prevent the growing concerns I may have, from erupting into hurtful reactions stemmed from my beaten down self-esteem. I should have placed an ultimatum back then about being a secret about being titles at a level less than what I felt was right. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had I done that, no matter what the outcome, it would have ended better.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In one outcome, she could have made that move forward with us, placing us in a situation where we would have grown together instead of our first defining gestures of moving apart. We may have worked out and been in a strong trusting relationship that we both sought after.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In the other outcome, she could have kept her stance of not being ready for a relationship and we could have understood for certain that we had hit a point where our paths were no longer heading to the same destination. We would have ended before our attachment grew too strong for us to ignore, causing us so much pain as things went on and we may have become different people than we are now. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Sad thing is, the “what if’s” never happened. My self-esteem was already in the toilet from years of hurt and self destruction prevented me from making that choice. I would eventually find myself on the path of recovery, but it would be another year of pain, reflection and consequence before I would reach the point where I am today. The fact remains, each day it gets easier. Mistakes are still made between us and it becomes apparent through each of them that the hurt gets easier to deal with. I see things much different now. I am aware that even though the pain, the outcome is not a negative one. I still care, I always will and I don’t regret for a moment in having that quality. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A. is a huge part of why I am the way I am, through the good and the bad. I have grown so much recently and much faster since the break up. One day I will meet someone and it will all come together because of who I am becoming. My reactions are different and my standards are higher. My smiles are real and the negative in me no longer has the control it once did. I know I will have my bad days, I know there will be moments where I wish things could be different, but those moments will be less and less and I will simply see things as they are and not what they could have been.<o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-39636870145508067202011-07-17T01:18:00.000-07:002011-07-17T11:33:10.859-07:00Meltdown Through Analysis<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I have been in this funk for several days. I can’t get out of it no matter how much I try and to be honest, I am not sure what’s causing it. After so much thought I realized it could be any number of things or all of them combined. It’s difficult to sort them out and deal with their fundamental sources. It simple boils down to these factors.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">1.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Relationships<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">2.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Money<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">3.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Career<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">4.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Children<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"><br />
</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">5.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Self Worth<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Relationships<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">This is not directed at my break up. Not entirely. I spent so much time feeling this emptiness recently, I immediately attributed it to A. and the breakup. But in the end, what I’ve noticed is when I look to find ways to get rid of the emptiness; it isn’t always toward her. It’s looking at several people. People I feel close and comfortable with and want to be around for a chance of peace. It is sometimes picturing intimate encounters but not necessary sexual ones. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Tonight for instance, I wanted to just sleep next to someone. Somebody I could be relaxed around. It made me realize that even though I don’t always sleep well around other people, I have come to enjoy someone being there. A. was always here in my home, she even made mention to the fact that she was at my house more than she was at her own. I think I got used to not only here, always around and sleeping next to me, but just the mere presence of someone being there.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It isn’t just in the bedroom though, it’s a general feeling of being alone. It’s that feeling of being accepted and love. It is very rare someone comes to visit me and it’s an issue that’s actually a huge pet peeve of mine that stemmed from early adulthood. I was the one always driving to see my friends and to hang out. There are two times in my life I was without a car and during those times, I seldom or stopped seeing almost all my friends. These days I’m more aware of that situation and it bothers me when people I know won’t hang out unless I drive out to meet them. Very few people ever come here. Even fewer are the people I know who have even been to my home. It reminds me of my childhood when I had a ton of friends in the summertime because I was the only one in the neighborhood who had a pool. I’m now they guy with the car ready to take people to where they need to go. Or the guy who indulges them to their wants but to hell with what I want because there’s nothing to do. (Insert extremely low self-esteem). <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I feel alone right now, not because I don’t have a girlfriend but because the only one I really hang out with these days is C. who is wonderful but I feel like such an ass for how I’ve treated her before and the fact that being around her is a huge secret with people from both our circles. I don’t want to cause an issue by being around her and for that I feel like an ass because she’s the only one I feel I can count on these days. Most of my friends I meet at anywhere but my house. I feel like a huge secret in A.’s life more now than when we first started dating. And everyone else I merely communicate through the internet. I feel like that guy who does a lot for others but is almost at the level of an Untouchable in other people’s eyes. Where’s the fairness in this? Why do I have to almost always leave my house in order to be with friends? Why is it that I feel that I have so many friends because I go to them? Because I am the one always going to them. Facts are facts. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Money<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Without going into too much detail of my financial situations, it’s best to say I am broke to the point of being broken. This recession beat the hell out of me after leaving Paychex. I managed to find income to survive though luck and a ton of help from friends, family and others. But right now I have literally nothing. This issue is only made worse through other factors in my life. Relationships: I can’t afford to go out. Career: I can’t afford to start this business. Children: I can’t give them what they want and sometimes what they need. They are always asking why and sometimes I find my patience slipping. Self Worth: Money isn’t everything, but living off the charity of others is humiliating. I am working my ass off to get Xcom up and running and I am constantly finding new ways to get tasks done on zero spending. And that leads to other problems.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Career<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I know Xcom Radio will work, I have planned it, ran <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/SWOT_analysis">S.W.O.T Analysis</a> on it. Plugged every detail on it, found ways to save more money on the startup than I thought possible and I now ask myself for what? I have put in months of countless hours in action and research to get this project in motion. I am depending on my partner into providing funding to make this a reality. So far everything on my end is done. All we have left is the automation software to be purchased, the website designed and hosted and we can begin the process of dry run to give us a structure to obtain clientele. All of which needs money. Money I don’t have the money that has yet to be provided because of so many reasons and excuses that have me wasting more time by adding more tasks on my plate with no sign of a realistic outcome. I am so scared of this not becoming something more than just a written and planned concept because I am waiting on others. I feel my life and self worth are relying on this and I have gone too far to have it collapse. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> A few months back I took time to think seriously about getting a loan or venture capital and starting this on my own. All the work had literally been done by me at this point and I still see nothing contributed by my partner other than concert ideas that we seldom agree on. I asked A. for advice and she said I would lose so much respect from her, my partner and others if I went this route. I doubt I have ever had professional respect from my partner, her or anyone else directly involved with this. It’s time I take things into my own hands and finish what I started with or without him. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">Children<o:p></o:p></span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> I have two children, my daughter Michelle who is 13 and my son Nick who is 11. Michelle has Autistic Spectrum Disorder, which means she is mentally handicapped but it is not defined as traditional Autism. Essentially Doctors can’t agree as to what she has so she is thrown into the ASD pile or as I like to say, Autistic-like. She is beautiful, she is wonderful and she is fantastic in her own way and as much as I love her, there are moments I feel like crap because I feel totally helpless. I feel like I am doing everything wrong at times, even when people tell me I am a great dad to her. I feel that my patience should be so much better with her and I find myself loosing that patience because it feels like a never ending uphill battle with her. I have no doubt in my mind that I love her and will be there for her. I feel horrible that I set these expectations for her when she was born and when the autism showed up, all those plans fell apart. I hate the fact that I am embarrassed at times when she talks in her mono toned voice that gets stares from children and adults alike. And it pisses me off when my mother tells strangers around us that Michelle is her very “special” to her. “Do you get what I mean by special”. I am her only parent and the fact that everyone feels like they need to either interfere or avoid us because of how she is upsets me over and over again. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Nick does not live with me but I do spend every other weekend with him. I have so little time and I feel that as much effort I put into raising him; I feel that it’s never enough. I deal with the issues and grudges from his mother who if she had her way, would totally have me out of the picture. I have no say in what he does, I have no say toward his well-being. I have no say in his schooling and when I do bring it up, I am quickly shot down by her. I am protective of him and there are times I seriously disagree to how he’s treated by his mother and grandfather and in a moment of pure stupidity I voiced those issues without thinking of the damage it did to him. It devastated me when I was told what happened after my actions when I dropped him off after out last visit. No matter how angry I am at them, the regret I have toward my actions that caused him grief is far greater. I want more time with him. I want to raise both my children right. I want the best for them and yet by totally different reasons, I feel I am failing them. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> No matter how many times people say I am a great dad to them, I am constantly seeing otherwise. The only reason I know I have not failed them is because I am still here for both of them. I keep trying no matter how impossible if feels or how little I think I do for them, I still know I am doing something.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"> Now with all this on my mind I have to figure out how to juggle it. A. was right, I have too much on my plate to successfully add to it. But I keep doing what needs to be done. I can’t walk away or quit anymore because it’s all I have, good and bad. I can do the best I can to change things I don’t like but other things are more of a challenge than dropping the dead weight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-15997903889522934162011-07-16T10:22:00.000-07:002011-07-16T10:22:11.301-07:00Dream a Little Dream . . . . Of Horror<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">If Dreams are a way of your subconscious telling you what’s going on in your mind, I’m really loosing it.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Two dreams last night I can still remember. The first one has me stealing the <span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black;">Ajanti Dagger</span> and then trying to fight Sardo Numspa</span> both in human and demon form (Kudos to the readers out there who recognize this 80’s movie reference). It got very frightening when he landed in my pool, creating a cloud of steam, giving him stealth for that dramatic effect. In the end, my dear sweet brother Numsy got what was coming to him and I woke up.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQ70zURoq8E/TiHFkEFAnaI/AAAAAAAAAfs/oDiuKsn_-pQ/s1600/Sardo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQ70zURoq8E/TiHFkEFAnaI/AAAAAAAAAfs/oDiuKsn_-pQ/s1600/Sardo.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p><br />
</o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">You’d think after that my mind would cut me some slack and give me a dream where I was on a date with Hope Solo. But sadly this was not to be. Sorry Hope, I had a fantastic night planned for us but my subconscious cock-blocked me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.thesportsbank.net/core/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/HOPE-SOLO-BLACK-HAIR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://www.thesportsbank.net/core/wp-content/uploads/2011/07/HOPE-SOLO-BLACK-HAIR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So instead of the Hope Solo dream, I found myself trying to escape a city while being attacked by the local military. I wandered through city blocks looking for a place to hide as random soldiers tried to shoot me. This alone was terrifying but what was on my mind at the time was getting away from the impending bombing raid on the city. I finally found a good, safe hiding place that kept me covered from the soldiers and would protect me from conventional bombing. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This is simple right? Can I get one good break in these dreams? <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“No!” said my subconscious.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Turns out that conventional bombing was a tactical nuclear weapon that would kill me no matter where I hid. On a plus side, I saw a fantastic light show above me before the blast vaporized me.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/WwlNPhn64TA?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Now I’m awake. And now I am not going back to sleep. It’s time to start my day out right and give me a clearer head for tomorrow night’s round of dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So Goodbye <span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color: black;">Sardo Numspa</span>, goodbye soldiers and goodbye fifty megaton yield nuclear blast. Hello new morning let’s have a good day.</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-71737846880175185422011-07-16T00:43:00.000-07:002011-07-16T00:43:50.561-07:00Guarded Feelings and Release<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The problem with blogging is that there are some things you aren’t ready to share with in the open public. It’s not like a journal where you keep it to yourself till someone finds it and reads it, invading your privacy. It’s open for strangers and friends to see. The issue I had today is how do I release my issues without blogging to the world about an uncomfortable subject?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This is my problem, normally I would try to talk about it to someone I knew and trusted. Sadly enough, most of the few friends I have that know this chapter in my life can’t directly understand what I’m going through and in turn make the sympathy feel a bit hollow. It’s not their fault nor am I angry at that fact. It simply is the way it is and there is not much I can do about it. There are a few other friends, who can relate to it, but there is a sense of awkwardness I have about talking about it and in the end I still feel that I am alone with the exception of the others who were a part of the situation. And even then they may not be as inclined to talk about it, making my stress grow more. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>One other way of alleviating my issue would be through emotional release. Sadly my social upbringing of my gender role hampers that action from happening or being able to do it enough to feel better. I suffer from the “<a href="http://blog.ted.com/2010/12/09/a-call-to-men-tony-porter-on-ted-com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Man Box</span></a>” syndrome Tony Porter described at TEDWomen in December, 2010. Essentially I have been given this idealism that men do not do certain things, crying being one of them. Because of this, I have trouble allowing myself to cry, in private or more especially in public view of others, whether they be friends, family or strangers. Because of that guard I have on myself, my mind tries to find other ways of release; very few of these are productive or safe and are based on the deep seated anger and frustration from being able to find salvation from something simple. Because of that, I have been violent to people and objects and verbally abusive toward others because I can’t properly rationalize my stressors and deal with them in a more simple benevolent manner. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>So instead I let the stress build and build to the point of breaking until I eventually gave in and talked to the person who was involved in the particular issue in my life. I felt lost still as I talked to her but I did notice that just talking to her about it was helping me get through it. The problem was not gone but it was releasing some of the pressure until I could find another was to get through it. I feel the pain of it still, even as I write this blog post, but I know I can last a little while longer before being in danger of hitting a breaking point. <o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-34693111677276633762011-07-15T00:33:00.000-07:002011-07-15T00:33:10.844-07:00Friendly Territory<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I wanted to post earlier, in the heat of an argument, but I’ve learned that posting when I’m angry is not pretty and often not the whole picture. It’s better to let things play out and let heads cool down before making a written account of my thoughts and feelings.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What end up happening was I finally gave in and contacted my ex about not asking for me to come to her rescue when she had a breakdown. It hurt me too much, being pushed away to the brink where I wanted nothing to do with her, only for her to ask for me to be there when she needed it. Why does she think she has that right? Why is it that I am almost certain that if I asked the same, she’d never do that for me?<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Normally you’d expect someone to just say “OK” and “I’m sorry I hurt you that was not my intention”. But those comments didn’t happen. Instead there was blame for me not coming to her rescue. She was unapologetic about my feelings and it gave her the impression that I saw her as a horrible person. (Note: I did say “I hate you for that” so I get why she thinks I see her as a horrible person). The argument escalated and quickly turned into “Delete me off facebook and call me when you want to be friends again.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That’s when I felt like blogging. I wanted to be mean, hurtful, nasty and cruel. But it’s not what I wanted to be. Instead I calmed down and tried to explain the situation. In the end we managed to be cool again. We both want to be friends and that should be simple.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It’s not simple. What I lack in my “tone” while texting, she lacks in actions. Her version of a friend isn’t my standard. Walking up to someone to say hi and take off with others isn’t a friend. It’s an acquaintance. I can live with that definition, but don’t refer to me as a friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A friend is something more. A friend is there for you because they know you’re there for them. A friend takes the time for you. I treat my friends with that level of respect. I care for them and I show my loyalty to them and voice my concerns for them when I feel they’re in trouble. I am a friend to many and what I give is what I know they will do in return. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">I recently posted something in facebook asking my friends to put a memory they have of me. I was surprised to what I read. One read “<span class="apple-converted-space"><i>you showing up, (without) me calling you, when i needed you the most taking me out to relieve my anger and stress from that day. i love you much for that one ! :D</i></span>” another said “<i>The time when we were roomies. When I had bronchitis (sic) and I was having a coughing attack and you stayed up all night with me trying to get ste(a)m in my lungs</i></span>”. Another one stated “<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">You and Melissa showing up in AZ in the middle of the night to take me and Daelan home to Cali ;). . .Wow! I just thought about that lol. Almost 13 years ago! Ty</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">” and another, “</span><span class="apple-style-span"><i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">Many nights of coffee after (Klub) empire and conversations at clubs or in the parking lot after clubs. Me pouring out all of relationship problems to you. And then in turn being the voice of reason for you.</span></i></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 12pt;">” And finally “<i>You have some friends with great memories of you including me... where do I start?! Club Metro...Rocky Horror in Encinitas... taking care of me when I got my appendix out and had just finished getting my first Corolla and going through a divorce... being there for me no matter what, including times I am sure you wanted to hate me... U are awesome! :-)</i></span>” This is how I treat my friends and I know they would do the same for me.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I love my friends, I will be there for them and I may not always agree with them but I will stand by them and voice my concerns when their action can do serious damage to themselves and those around them. I do this because I care for them and I do it because I know they’d do the same for me. The word friend is a sacred word for me, all others below that are simply acquaintances or just people I know civilly. I don’t mix them up and I won’t drop that standard with them or except anything less of them toward me. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My ex said to me that she missed our friendship and so did I. But we don’t define friendship the same way and that is why we are no longer close. <o:p></o:p></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-75078784935560673862011-07-13T13:18:00.000-07:002011-07-14T00:36:57.919-07:00Ex Marks a Sore Spot<div class="MsoNormal"> There are always going to be issues with a break-up. Whether you’re the Dumper or Dumped, your emotions are going to go haywire. Depression, anger, regrets, those are all the negative emotions that dwell in your conscious minds and vary depending on what side of the fence you end up on.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"> In my life, I was the one who guaranteed the relationships demise by my own self destructive actions that I started because of my unusually low self-esteem. So when the relationship ended, It was either me doing the dumping or a mutual decision. I did it to protect myself from depression and loss from being dumped. My low self-esteem is an evil S.O.B. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Recently I made an effort to change who I was. Relearning how to be the nice guy I used to be instead of the selfish, mean cold hearted person I was turning into. I made the attempt to let go of a lot of anger built up inside of me, which was seriously doing damage to my emotional and social selves. I learned to open up and communicate about what’s going on in my head, rather than bottling it up. I learned to listen and be more attentive to those around me, at least the best I could do from the habit of years of selfishness. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"> Somewhere in this endeavor, I met a woman, a very social, kind, loving, beautiful woman that had an ability to be open and understanding. I saw her as a new friend with little interest in pursuing any relationship past that. Somewhere in the middle of it all we began to flirt, using private jokes, witty humour and an ice storm that took us from friendship to a slightly higher level. As to what, we had no idea yet.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">See, a little background into her was she was going through a divorce and had recently ended a relationship with the man she was with post-separation. Her desire to be in a relationship was as slim as mine. Not to say we didn’t have feelings for each other, but we had issues with trust and attachment due to our own past experiences. (This should have been a huge red flag). <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">In the beginning, past the question if this was only going to be about sex, our titles toward each other were strictly “dating”. This was a phrase she applied to us that I agreed to in the beginning. “Dating” was a title commit-aphobes could use easily. It means the fear of attachment and relationships aren’t there because the title isn’t there. (A rose by any other name. . . ). It sounded like a good idea at the time. Here is the issue, when you’re around someone that you click with on so many levels for a period of time; your natural instinct is to be more bonded to them. Well, it was my instinct at least. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;"> I adored her by then. (My code word for “I’m falling in love with you”). I hinted that I wanted more from her and I was informed that I was still that guy she was dating. This really messed with my head when all actions say we’re more than dating but we’re still dating. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">This is where my anger kicked in. I didn’t handle the rejection well, but instead of an ultimatum or just walking away, I began to get involved with my ex-girlfriend. I did it for two reasons: <br />
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">1.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>My ex and I were together for 5 years and even though I did a ton of damage there, she was the only one who knew me at a level I didn’t know myself and If I needed to vent, she was able to help me better understand. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin-left: .75in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">2.<span style="font: normal normal normal 7pt/normal 'Times New Roman';"> </span>I was really angry and I really wanted to hurt her.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;">The problem with that is I couldn’t admit to the damage I was doing. I didn’t want to lose her. So I lied and messed with people’s heads in order to keep a secret. But that kind of secret never lasts and eventually I got caught. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> <i>This is where it should have ended.</i> I was caught, end of story. But instead she showed up and went through a locked door to get to me, and forgive me. I never understood this and I think my lack of understanding made things worse. We managed to make it work for some time, even when I pushed the hardest when I had an emotional breakdown. But then things came crashing down after the Holidays.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> From my point of view, there were constant issues with those two weeks I never addressed. She and her kids were at my house. It was loud, crowded, issues came with the actions of her kids in my home and I have an issue where I see the negative in everything. From New Years Eve till the big fight a few days later, she became very cold and finally mentioned that I was doing some things wrong by her standards. Let me remind you again that I only see and hear the negative. Low self esteem and anger are a bad combination and the fight was bad. We were finished. A few days later it really sunk in and I hit a bar, drinking myself <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>stupid</u></b>, all for a woman. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> This is where is should have ended. This is when I say we parted ways and that was all. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> Nothing ever goes to plan.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> A few days later I get a text with one word, “FUCK”.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> And now we’re back to talking. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> I’m not ready to share what that was about yet. It’s still a difficult subject for me. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> We tried for a few months to make it work but in the end, when I began to finally understand my ways of thinking and seriously make the changes I needed for myself, she ended it. I begged and pleaded for us to fix this but in the end she was done. She had been for some time and her pushing hindered us for months where things would have gotten better. I didn’t see it that way though and merely blamed myself and my actions for leading us here. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> Eventually grief changed to anger and being pushed would end us as friends as well. I left for some time, hoping I could clear my head of here. Twice though, she sent me heartfelt text messages. One admitting she pushed me away and was out of control and the other wishing I was still there for her when she was in a time of need. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> I can’t be there for her anymore. Not at her beck and call, not in a moment of convenience, not as a half-assed friend. She pushed me away, she got what she wanted. I can be civil with her to a point but the pain and anger are still in me from this and I don’t think that will go away anytime soon. I miss her terribly. I miss her children and her pets, I still dream about her from time to time and I still want to scream at her, making it clear of how much her actions have done damage. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="tab-stops: 0in;"> I’m honourable, I still keep her secrets, I still speak highly of her as a person, but the last thing I can handle at the moment is seeing her. Now if only I could gain the courage to totally break away from her. But there are other issues with that.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-241696133279192182.post-80347493634008144332011-07-12T12:51:00.000-07:002011-07-12T12:51:05.412-07:00Where it All Starts (Background)<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Blogging used to be the “in” thing when Live Journal was around, back in the day. Then My Space created Bulletin Post, facebook made Status Updates and Twitter made Tweets. Shorter and shorter our messaging got and now maybe it’s too short. We have so much more to say than the 400 characters facebook allows and the 140 characters twitter allows. Maybe Blogging is the answer.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I was told by many people that I should start writing things down. If anything else, it would make great therapy for me. Blogging is a chance to hash out my issues or even my daily routines in order to better understand why I am the way that I am. The big question is, where do I begin?</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">Let’s start with basics; I am a 34 year old single dad living in Southern California. I live in a 3 bedroom condo with my daughter, who has a form of autism, my dog Dresden and my aunt, which will be several posts all in themselves. I have a son nearby also who doesn’t live with me but is here enough for me to be his dad but not enough for my liking. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I am trying to start a new business called Xcom Radio, which is seriously behind schedule and funding, but somehow I am still making progress with. I put in way too many hours in a day for it sometimes but I know this will work. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">I have several friends in my life, although it seems a bit crazy sometimes. The friend I see most often is actually one of my ex girlfriends who may know me the best. Sometimes things are awkward between us but she is someone I can talk to about most things.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">And I am going through the issues of a recent breakup. By recent, I mean two months ago. On month for me to realize it’s really over without any hope of reconciliation and another month to realize we can’t even be friends. I do still care for her and that makes it difficult because there are now issues concerning her that I can’t have in my life at the moment. I can be civil with her but I can no longer be there for her in the ways she asks me to be. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">This is the major points in my life right now and my future posts will have these as topics. I can say you have been welcomed or warned. It depends on how you take it.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09761478191427639028noreply@blogger.com0DRNAG, San Bernardino, CA, USA34.147337711725285 -117.2444740707550234.130082211725288 -117.25822407075502 34.164593211725283 -117.23072407075502