Archive for November, 2014

caffeine buzz

November 26, 2014

There’s a point in every morning where the caffeine hits. It’s a beautiful stars aligning moment. I love every one. and i want to show it. Pure happiness. I want to sing at the top of my lungs… but i work in cubicle land and that wouldn’t go over too well. Singing (and skipping) in the rain sounds like a great idea when it hits. but what i truly want to do… what i think would fulfill the buzz…. what would feel 100% satisfying is to give someone I’m in love with a hug. I don’t have a person I am in love with…. so I think i’d settle for a cartwheel in the hallway… and it being a day before the holiday… its pretty ghost towny around here… i could probably get away with it.


emotional hangover

November 24, 2014

Yesterday I spent all day in pain. Not physical pain, but soul pain. At one point i was laying flat on my back on the living room floor… not even my dog would approach me it was so tangible. Where did it come from? What triggered this?

I normally consider myself pretty void of emotion. But maybe that’s not really so… I am not good at hiding what i feel. well, that’s not true either. I think I’m good at hiding anger. I’m good at hiding heart break. But when i’m sad, i look sad. I might not, probably won’t, cry in front of you… But i’m a happy, chipper person… so.. anything felt otherwise i suppose is pretty noticeable. But I’d say I normal don’t feel anything to the extreme… I definitely don’t act upon it.

I spent yesterday alone. It was a long day. I felt so much. And i don’t really know what it was. Heartbreak? Hopeless? Lonely? Bored? I think it was all of that and more. Everything hit me. I’m an emotional eater… and normally if boredom hits or sadness or stress, food is my solace. But not even that tugged at me yesterday. I’ve been working on that. Not running to food. Or at least recognizing emotional hunger versus physiological hunger. And maybe I finally hit a break through with that yesterday. Maybe it was my sub-conscious forcing me to face my emotions. To process them. Instead of stuff them down with food. Maybe yesterday was a break through. It felt messy. It felt chaotic. Maybe its going to clear up in a way that cleaning your bedroom looks way worse before it actually gets better and cleaned and organized and uncluttered. Gotta pull everything out of all the nooks and crannies to either dust it off, put it up, or throw it out… I don’t know.

But i do know I was hurting every where. deep down. all throughout. so much. And today… the residual sadness is almost consoling. What does that even mean? It feels like a companion… like its a helper. Like I’m suppose to use it for something.

Maybe its going to do nothing more than to keep me away from people today… keep me from reaching out. Force me to process this on my own.

Maybe its nothing more than hormones… and tomorrow it’ll just be gone. That sucks to think about. That our emotions are just manifestations of the wrong chemical in our body at the time… no meaning other than malfunction of the body. obviously, some people think that… its why pills for depression exists… and i’m not saying there isn’t a place in this world for that… there most certainly is… i’m just hoping there’s more to it for me.

That’s enough for now. Here’s to keeping it together today… or letting things go… we’ll see.

another dating disaster

November 18, 2014

Welp, I’m trying.

Met up with a guy I have seen a few times. It was his birthday and he was watching Sunday football at a restaurant/bar with a few friends. I wasn’t going to stay long, but it was his birthday and he asked me to come. When I sit I immediately get the feeling that his friends are not quite his friends. In their defense, this guy was being obnoxiously loud. He had been here drinking beer for the last 2 or 4 hours…. I wasn’t quite sure. His volume was even embarrassing me! And I’ve only hung out with him enough to think i wanted to continue to see where this goes.

I have 2 beers. I feel good about two beers. I had a huge lunch and wasn’t feeling it in the least. It’s 7:30pm… not too late. I think i’m about to leave for a few reasons. 1) Let him hang with his “friends” on his birthday. They were talking about going out afterwards and i didn’t want to be what stood in his way if he wanted. 2) I have to be at work early in the morning so its not an option in my mind. He talks me into one more beer… bribed me with my favorite… which i don’t even remember telling him. How thoughtful.

I finish that up, lean over, and tell him I’m heading out. He insists on coming with me. “Ok.” I never invited him, but it’s kind of nice that he wants to hang out longer. Its 8:00 pm… I can kick him out at 10pm and still get plenty of sleep. We walk out together. I ask if he is good to drive…. against my better ¬†judgement he got behind his wheel. I told him I needed gas first but that I’ll be right behind him. I get gas. I get home. I take my dog out. I pick up a little. I return a phone call to my mom from earlier. I’m started to worry. He should’ve beat me here. I call him with no answer. Panic is rising and I’m cursing myself for letting him drive.

45 minutes later he calls. Relief sweeps over me. “Can i still come over? I’m on my way.” At this point its almost 9pm… and I’m less excited about him coming over. It’s starting to be unsettling… not to mention how much worry I just went through. So, okay, he’s coming now…. so I wait. and I wait. and I wait. I start to worry again! I call him. No answer. I call a friend for a few reasons. 1) to pass the time and 2) to talk me off this cliff of panic that I’m inching towards…. but there’s a hint of something else settling in as well… is that anger??? Why yes! It is! Where the f*** is he?! If he didn’t want to come over he didn’t have to! I didn’t even ask him!

At 10pm, 2 hours since we left the bar, I text him to tell him not to bother coming. “Text to tell me that everything is okay but I’m headed to bed.” He calls immediately. “I’m lost. I just got mugged. I don’t know where I am.” I ask him what’s the last thing he remembers, but before I can finish he knows where he is…. I find out he still has his car… he says he’s been beaten with a tire iron after pulling over to help a guy with a flat tire…. I wish I could tell you my first reaction was to find out he was ok… but all i can think is BULL SHIT!

“Beaten and left for dead” with your car… and your phone… and you sound fine… is this guy for real? And you what? “Can I still come over?” um………… seriously?

He can’t believe that I don’t believe him. I tell him to just call me tomorrow. We can talk when he is sober. He says okay, he sounds mad and hangs up. He calls back a few more times. Each time I tell him to stop calling and we can talk tomorrow. I finally stop answering the phone. I can’t turn my phone off because I’m on-call for work. But he calls 6 mores times between the hours of 11 and 2:30am. He leaves me 4 voice mails and each one he gets more and more drunk. I can barely make out the last one. In the first one, I can tell he is still driving… and its 12:20 am. He says something about going out… and turning around. In another one I can tell he is out at a bar. In the very last one I’m pretty sure I hear a drunken “I love you” which I can’t help but roll my eyes.

I don’t know about you but if i just got beaten up on the side of the highway i wouldn’t be worried about either a guy I just started dating or going out to a bar…

The next day he calls and apologizes. Wants to “make it up to me” but I don’t know that i’m invested enough to deal… was this truly a stupid drunken string of bad decisions? because I’m more inclined to believe half of it was BS. 100% made up! I don’t know him well enough to know whether this is a normal thing for him or not! Only parts of his story change… like instead of a tire iron he was kicked. He never mentioned the pulling over to help a car again… he just says “I was drunk, I got lost, you got mad” that’s his story. He tries to tell me he went home after the mugging, but the voice mails say different so he has to concede that one. On top of all that he tries to blame MY trust issues for making all this a big deal. Maybe so, but if you can’t trust your gut what can you trust?

It’s a shame tho… I was really liking him. oh well…

feeling loved

November 10, 2014

I talked to my sister recently about boys… imagine that. Mundane enough, right?

We grew up in a very religious house hold. Everything was bad. It’s not about being safe and moderate it was about sacrifice. NO NO NO NO NO. So when it came to sex, naturally abstinence was the rule. But my sister got involved with an older guy at age 14… sex was involved. I thought it was this young age that has affected her and her view on relationships and men from then on… Thought she was affected by the older boy on top of the guilt she may have felt for going against a religion that was so heavily preached and ingrained in us.

Fast forward to current day. Me and my sister are 27… She confided in me that she knows now she seeks out affection from men… because this is how she feels loved. This is the only time she has EVER felt loved by men. EVER. What does this mean? My dad wasn’t very affectionate. He was the book nerd type. He read us stories from child craft. He taught us to study by reading our texts books to us and quizzing us. He prayed over us at night. BUt the most affectionate I remember him being was literally tucking us in bed at night. Otherwise he was reading on his own. Or on the internet. Basically once his work day was over, he was done. Me and my sister decided we don’t remember anything hands on from both our parents. Why is it then, that her act of love… her love tank… if we go with “the 5 love languages” theory… is only filled by¬†intimate contact? There was a hole… and she is filling it with what was missing? is that how it works. It’s not she was loved in so many ways and that’s how she feels it now out of habit…? but the opposite? Forgive me if this isn’t making a whole lot of sense. I’m just brainstorming. Just don’t understand why we were shown love by being provided for, by being pushed in academics, by a whole host of other ways, but the one way that we didn’t get we seek… Why is it not habit to feel love by how we’ve always been shown it.

Let me be honest… Hearing my sister say this was like… well… reflecting my own thoughts. I want to be touched. This is when I feel my most worthy. And my sexual back ground is the complete opposite of hers. I was 18 when I lost my virginity. And it was to my boyfriend of over a year and half… who i eventually married.

I don’t know, just rambling on. Maybe this is completely normal for women. I know that the word slut gets thrown out a lot at females… the whole double standards of having a lot of sexual partners. Man, if men (and some women) only knew that the reason (some) girls turn into “sluts” is because we mistake the time spent on us in the act of sex with how much the person doing the act with us feels about us and the promise this act might mean.¬†With every time they give their bodies to a man they think this could be it… This is my turning point. My life just started. He is the difference. He is my future… only to wake up finding out that the chickens were counted too early. And we kick ourselves because we know… this isn’t the answer. but how else do we get that love we want. We give what we think will make the difference. and every time the hope is there. and every time dashed. But its worth the possible dashing to be loved. In those moments she is whole. Happy.

My heart breaks for these scenarios. I hear about it all the time. Wonder what will bridge the worth that we really are¬†to the worth we feel we are….