Archive for the ‘GLBT’ Category
I’m not talking about reeling in a fish and losing it. No. This phrase his a different meaning of which I think everyone knows.
That one true love that “got away.”
Did they really “get away?” And were they your “one true love” as well? What does that mean?
I think it means it’s a construct you have created in your own mind. You have fallen “in love” (whatever that means as well) and you have become, at various points, a near slave to that construct.
That would mean you are possibility “pining” for that certain someone? That construct. Step back. If you can.
Which I have never been able to do. Or at least very well.
Maybe the one that got away is actually you. You might have seen me leading up to this conclusion?
What to do? Nothing. I’ve had several periods like like this, and the only balm is time. Like a period of grief. What if that doesn’t work?
It might take more balm, more time…and…the future unknown. And yet, the future still being unknown, you might end up living in that construct for who knows how long?
I still live in my own constructs or a couple now. Maybe not all the time but the women’s voices and laughter, and intimacy of course always come back to me.
And sometimes it almost haunts me. I don’t want them to be anything that got away then. I just want to hang on and be grateful for the time we had together.
That makes them ones that didn’t get away. Even me too?
Written while listening to “Sweetest Perfection” by Depeche Mode. Appropriately?
Okay. First off, I don’t think I’m really a bitch. Readers? Speak up and let me know. It’s alright. In fact, it would be great if you told me I was a bitch (or not.) It would help me with “My Issues.”
Alright, the ditching. In my regular pub. Know the older guy, D. Met this (Gorge!) girl/woman/whatever-ageism-can-go-to-hell. She apparently is the Granddaughter of…
Oh, yeah. I’m like, beyond pissed so I’m blasting Skinny Puppy so loud, I’m sure the entire floor can hear it. Sucks to be you when I’m beyond pissed and I blast music when I can’t get an outlet.
I’m even too angry to masturbate to get a release. But if I had a partner, I’d fuck her like Armageddon was only five minutes away. I don’t have a partner though. So right now, that means music that will make your ears bleed at huge volumes (or even more quiet volumes?) is the only choice I have.
Anyway, “Gorge” is the Granddaughter of this lovely, old guy. A Scot through and through and salty to the bone. We’ve had some good chats.
Well, maybe I should have a chat with him about his goddamn, fucking Granddaughter who ditched me tonight! Okay, the old man too, but I know him. I can give him the tiniest bitch slap that will land him crawling on the floor, begging first for my forgiveness, then to somehow, some way make him vertical again.
So we’re drinking and talking and I see this other guy I know plop A GINORMOUS-A-RAMA bag of pot in her lap, with all the accessories included: scissors, papers…and how many bags of dope? I mean, I don’t know street value, but when she opened one of them? WHAM!
Just one sniff and I was nearly thrown across the entire pub! I knew I had to get this (really good) shit out of the pub or at least hidden on her–Granddaughter or not! I was still staring at all the bags thinking I could get busted just sitting with her.
FUCK ME.FUCK ME.FUCK ME.
Seriously. For someone who smokes dope (and apparently a lot unless marketed?)
It’s been a lllooonnnggg time folks and NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER, NEVERRRRRRR IN PUBLIC!!!
Hello, PA. Not only are you banned from the pub, but you are charged with Possession and also Possession With Intent To Sell. I think I was “Gorge Blind” because I can’t even believe I did this. But I knew she wanted to toke really…like NOW REALLY!
I grab a MASSIVE BUD and put it on a piece of paper I had on the table. I was ripping and tearing (like I said folks, a long time, no MJ since my 20s.) I roll like shit but I figured I managed to get enough for a cigarette size that she wanted. The MASSIVE BUD still looked just as MASSIVE!
I eventually had to run into the bathroom because I felt like I was looking too obvious. So I rolled up what I had done still with the MASSIVE BUD and kept it tight on both ends–like I’d rolled a joint! I told her to run into the bathroom NOW! I had to take her hands and put them on both ends like mine were so as not to lose anything!
Alrighty. That’s up to the Bitchin’ Ditchin’
They suggested going somewhere else and I was keen. I was just concerned about getting home. Walking with them would have been fine but alone? She said she can make sure I’d get home safely. Call a cab, whatever. Cool.
I said to them that I just had to go to the bathroom and then I’d be done. They said, “Okay.” I also had to settle up my tab.
I went outside and… Gone. The guy working there said that they had gone to where “WE” were supposed to go.
For some reason (like they’d come back?) I just stood outside the place, had a cigarette and walked around a bit. Of course they never came back!
UNLESS: Between all of the substances in everyone there was a misunderstanding. I “knew where it was?” And I did. Because when I finished in the bathroom and paid my tab, the table where we were all sitting was quite different. The old guy D. wouldn’t touch my stuff, but “Gorge” would have after all of our talking for hours and not to discriminate, I have to pull the Gender Card.
Some of the things I had on the table were now in my rucksack but the most amazing thing was my cane. It wasn’t beside my bag as per norm. My cane was sitting on the table. Almost in an…”…okay…come on then!” sense.
Christmas Party there tomorrow. They’ll both be there. I haven’t decided about going or not now. Drop off my “Secret Santa” and then just fuck it off. Or, walk in, dressed up, somehow, kickass.
And Kick Some Ass.
Yes, changes. Many.
Something in my Non-PA life didn’t work out. Very sad. Time to grieve. Again with so many other things, so many other times in my life.
My Addiction for alcohol has done a total 180 degrees! I’d been away for a long time from the Group Sessions. That was due to yet another hospitalization from Pneumonia.
That was the fourth time back to Isolation. Fevers so high, I could die! Fun stuff.
Although this fourth time, I was admitted to Respiratory Department. But after discharge, Sweetie GP said there was nothing we could do was bedrest (again!) until I felt better. That was about a month.
So a long time away from the Addition Program! Now things have changed and not to my liking.
No more Group. As in you, or people, get together and talk. I’ve always hated those things but surprisingly, this time I liked it. Great.
After spending enough time there, the next step was to have your doctor fill out a very large form. That was to begin the Inpatient Program in hospital. Some people do it Outpatient but Sweetie GP and I know I must go Inpatient.
I must start this now if the Group Sessions aren’t happening anymore. God, one of the questions on the form is if I can stay sober for a week. I can’t. If I can’t, I get tossed into Detox first.
And how fucked up is this? They say they will taper you off benzos. Excuse me. Benzos are “generally” used in Detox to calm your freakin’ ass down?
Unless maybe you’re addicted to benzos. That would make sense for a taper.
Well, there’s a huge FUCK YOU CAVEAT for me. I’ll push it to the limit everywhere if I have to. They can’t take away and of your medically prescribed drugs. I take Valium!
prn, mind you but if I need it, I need it. I’ve Detoxed at home and I get so screwy, I forget to take it when it calms me down. I also need it for insomnia.
I seem to have gotten a little riled up here. Don’t you think? There’s more I can say that are maybe positive. Maybe?
CODA: I saw my Therapist today and have never been so Aspie spazzy EVER. Foetal ball in waiting room uncontrollably bawling, lying on the kid’s bed holding a Teddy Bear crying for the appointment. Then stimming like a volcano on Accessible Transit on the way home.
I’ll just have to wait and see for now.
Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?
A few more.
JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE A COCK YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO ACT LIKE THE FILTHY MOTHERFUCKING, EGOMANIACAL THAT ONLY SEES IN A WOMAN WHAT HE WANTS TO SEE.
BUT IS NOT REALLY THERE.
YOU BASTARDS SHOULD BE BURNED AT THE STAKE LIKE SALEM OR WORSE.
JUST BECAUSE A WOMAN WAS BEING HERSELF WITH YOU.
FUCK OFF AND FUCK YOU.
Will WordPress on my mobile FINALLY work?
Or better put I’M a fucking mess.
I had to bust up a relationship for good when I thought I could really, really be friends–which I have never been able to do.
It hurt too much. But this time it will be different.
But this time it will be different. But this time it will be different. How many times have we all said that.
One brutal thing was that I thought I was ending things but things woman had decided it wasn’t going to work at all. It wasn’t with malice though. Two people running around in circles trying not to hurt each other.
Saying goodbyes are not my forte. This was known. So it was even harder. Then the egg on my face once I finally got the words out. No upsetting reaction. Just a yes. That would be best. That clued me in.
If you’re having problems in a relationship and trying to work things out, someone just saying out of nowhere they’re leaving would get a different reaction.
Then my fish…well didn’t really die. He’s very sick so I was watching for signs of deterioration.
Last night he wasn’t really swimming and wouldn’t eat. Shit. Always voracious and always moving.
I was more concerned with how he was feeling. What, from being so ill? Even pain too? Of course he couldn’t tell me, but he came straight to the front of the tank, every time I went to talk to him.
His gills would flip even faster than when ever getting oxygen or anything else. My baby was one happy fish. And I was one proud Mommy.
I’ve seriously fallen off the wagon. I’ve been drinking every day, not caring how much. I’m smoking too. Less than the drinking but I still can’t do it.
I did a cutting last night because of everything regarding the above. I haven’t done a cutting in so long. I actually have to stop typing soon as it hurts.
I didn’t even get to sleep. That was great as well.
Now it’s back to withdrawal/detox hell. That will be great as well. Uh, no. I deserve it though.
There’s gonna be a lot of bed and a lot of sickness around here for a while. I feel like I’m sitting in the middle of a Chernobyl but it’s of my life, not just relationships.
And I’m just a confused little child.
What the fuck is it with me and relationships?
Maybe Chernobyl. *nods*
Like I’ve had a decent one in real life in how many years? Uh. Never mind. But hey! We’re in “the digitital age!”
Why the fuck did I recently hop on an online Dating Site? I have no answer to that. Except stupidity. Maybe lonely, stupidity? Probably, Amnesiac Chernobyl Lonely Confused Hermit Stupidity.
Met LDR. Won’t get into details but sure, looking good. And I knew the hazards of LDRs.
Wonderful woman. It didn’t work out but that’s okay.
I crash and burn with EVERY relationship I’ve ever had. And after it being so long since my last?
Okay. Yes. There it is.
If I don’t post this now, immediately after everything has disappeared, blown up, said, “See ya! Cry me a river, build me a bridge and get over it!”
…waiting to post this would NOT be a good idea. Also, I should grab my Senns to listen to tunes on baby. Waking up everyone on my floor with “break up music” would NOT be a good idea either.
I’m actually okay with it. It’s just the DrAmArAmA that came along with it, because of the nature of the relationship it was (specifically) and then of course how the other person factored in to it–NOT that she caused any DrAmA.
Well, okay. Let’s be real. There’s always DrAmA. However, when you break up with someone?
WHAT’S THE NUMBER ONE RULE?
THE MOST IMPORTANT THING!
GO FOR THE JUGULAR!!!
PEOPLE! ARE YOU SAVAGES???
The correct answer to the question if any of you even remember *straightens glasses* is this: When you break up with someone, what is the NUMBER ONE RULE? Somebody breaks up with you, you break up with somebody else, an entire relationship in your life goes…
COMPLETELY ROYAL,TOTALLY OUT OF CONTROL SAVAGALLY!!!
Okay. *removes glasses and sighs while picking up a glass of water* You’re a tough crowd. And I don’t mean that in a Charlie Chaplin sort of way. No. It would seem that you’re all a bunch of savages from perhaps the Paleolithic Period, have had some horrific relationship endings or both. Let’s try this one more time.
When you break up with someone, OH FUCK ME ALL TO HELL! PLEASE GIVE ME THE RIGHT ANSWER!!! SOMEONE!!!!
Helllooo? Does anybody know? Because let me tell ya what!
YOU’RE NOT HELPING! I’M THE ONE WHO JUST ROMANTICALLY CRASHED AND BURNED!!!
Here’s your obvious answer dimwits! When you break up with someone, whatever, the whole damn thing, what.the.fuck.do.you.do? Rule Number One. And to keep it simple stoopid fer y’all, let’s make it the only rule. Just.One.Rule.
Again, this was a specific type of relationship that honestly? I’d say are about 90% doomed from the start. But why not go for it? Everyone has their reasons. What kind of relationship? Can you read my totally trashed head, but more heart, WTF but NOOOOOOO!!! But wait!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t we still…..?……why am I surprised? WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
Does that clear things up? LDR? Long…Distance…Rel…
Yes. A Long Distance Relationship (aka LDR) that lasted about three months. Actually, almost to the date! So you could very well say three months. Not that it matters. As an Aspie, I have this “number thing.” I like things to be all round and even. It makes me feel all keen and groovy. Balance and Symmetry is a PA Aspie Gig (or one of them.)
Anyway, like this whole thing was going to work? Have a look again at my completely, impossibly, and in no way researched, thus cannot be proven stats, on how many LDRs actually stay alive. I rest my case.
No, I don’t rest my case. The woman knows of my blog. Maybe this post might give her a little laugh. She was engrossed in reading it from the start. For some reason I will never know! *crosses eyes*
It’s just not going to be able to continue due to certain circumstances. That then places us in a different position. Or it did. Would a friendship be possible?
After days and even weeks? I kept chasing my tail (and maybe hers too?) to only come back to the very first answer I had given to her. Right from the start. I wanted to change. I wanted to change every time before. Too. Not to say this woman was any less important than them or her or when and that…..
I can try, but I won’t win. Then nobody wins. I can’t remain friends with my ex-girlfriends/ex-partners. I will probably still be in love with them (or if I “think” I’m not–hello unconscious mind!) That actually has happened! o.O
I am GREENGREENGREEN!!! Oh, Wee PA is SO,SO,GREENGREENGREEN!!! Jealous!Jealous!Jealous!
Not exactly happy about it, but I will admit it. That’s another hurdle. Seeing your ex- with someone else and you sit and watch, gagged sometimes, but inside, YOU ARE SCREAMING!!!
WHY HER? WHY NOT ME? I’M STILL HERE? YOU SAID YOU’D COME BACK?
…oh, yes……she’s very nice……….i’…i’m….i…iii….i’m….vv….very….hhapppy for y…ou.
“Yes, she’s very nice. I’m very happy for you.” *forces forward awkward smile and forces backward awkward tears*
So, even though we’re all different, why should I not be so different? “Let not our differences separate us!” Or something like that. Maybe someone even said that at some period throughout history. Just with much more eloquence.
I also wonder a lot why the posts aren’t so “different” on their own. It’s like a 50/50 division has been made. It’s either, “Christmas is going to be so Jolly and Gay (not in a sexual way, but…well…?) Then, it appears to be the exact opposite. The other side find Christmas absolute torture! Completely abhorrent! They’d run out and start committing arson, except they’re lying in bed, too depressed to move.
I believe in both. I don’t judge either. I see both. I might have even participated in both. However, you’ll find me in the latter camp. Christmas and I aren’t exactly good friends. Even acquaintances, for that matter.
Sometimes I’ll know it’s going to be bad in advance. Sometimes I actually know how really bad it will be in advance. It’s the same with a sort of feeling like being ambivalent. Other years, I have no idea what will happen until it just hits.
This year? Oh, fuck me! I think I knew it was going to be UTTERLY, PAINFUL AND HORRID, in the bloody summer! On top of THAT, I’ve started experiencing PTSDTraumaChristmas weeks ago!
They never did this during the last two years I’ve lived in my apartment, but they have a bunch of Christmas lights strung all across our floor’s adjoining patio. I simply thought they were broken. SURPRISE!
They’ve had them on every night for I don’t know how long. Wonderful! I can’t even look out my window now! But I can’t not look out my window as I need to orient myself in terms of space, time, proximity and other physics type stuff.
Hey, I even have a little, red, flashy one in front of my apartment’s window. Great! PTSDTraumaDiscoChristmas!
Tomorrow is Christmas Day in my part of the world (space, time, proximity hehe) and my presence is immensely requested at a party.
If I don’t show up, there will be hell to pay! It’s also going to be HUGE. There goes the sobriety I’ve been working to control. Well, it might make Christmas a bit more Merry!
Until the day after. Boxing Day. I’ll want to squeeze myself into the smallest box I can find, yet still manage to defenestrate me with perfect accuracy…
Right into the middle of the biggest snowbank I can find.
Ah, well. And so it goes. Make it through the week until New Year’s and it’s over!