Tag: depression

Relief

I can’t even begin to tell you the immense relief I felt when I woke up this Sunday morning.

The anxiety, the trepidation, the overwhelming sadness I have been struggling with for 2weeks seems to have lifted. I literally feel lighter.

I didn’t understand what was happening to my mind and body the past couple weeks. I was really afraid I was internalizing the dating rejections worse than I was allowing myself to believe since that’s a typical trigger for me.

But it wasn’t. Everything I wrote about lightbulbs and a better understanding of myself is true. The gears have shifted.

Then, I thought, how could the one incident with my boys send me flying over an edge and free falling to the point I felt crazy, hyper and needed an emergency call to the therapist.

It didn’t occur to me until I woke this morning, happy and peaceful. I lie in bed trying to understand what felt different. I was sleeping in my sisters home after a big birthday bash for her the evening before and I was definitely nursing a little hangover. I had this feeling of emptiness and joy, literal lightness.

I started to think about a few things since my brain seemed to be less foggy and muddled. I felt something within my grasp but couldn’t quite articulate it. It wasn’t until I had a almost 3 hour drive home that my mind cleared the way for me.

It was exactly 1 year ago on September 7th I had my elective surgery. I had come through, what I thought was, the most debilitating period of my life and was in a long, painful spiral downwards. The surgery was meant to give me a reset, to take back one thing in my life that I could control. Of course, we all know that’s not how it worked out for me. My emotional breakdown turned almost fatal.

I know, very well, I buried Mexico. I don’t think about it. I don’t want to think about it. I buried it in a chest somewhere deep never to be opened again by anyone. Ever. I mean it. I don’t want to discuss it or go back to it. It’s such a dark period for me that I just know I will never want to revisit it and experience the pain again. I have always been good at pushing things away and I can keep this one buried deep.

So what’s left when you don’t address the pain? Shame, embarrassment, guilt, sadness and a whole bevy of other assorted negative feelings.

The biggest and most painful of those is shame. Shame for what I did to myself. Shame for what I put the ones I loved through. Awful, terrible, gut-wrenching shame. It’s one of the few feelings I don’t often experience. I never felt shameful about my affairs I don’t think I’ve done much in my life to be ashamed of. I believe the past two weeks my mind is trying to dig up / relive / let-go of something from that time a year ago. Because it’s so suppressed it manifested as physical warning signs.

It didn’t dawn on me until I woke up from from trepidation and anxiety that I had been harboring so much shame within, but I know now that’s the feeling I’ve been struggling with. Shame is such an ugly word and it feeds the inner voice that says “I’m not worthy and I’m not loved”. I had just finished listening to a Brene Brown book where she spoke about shame – she says – in order to cut shame off at the knees you need to talk about it.

When that little nugget of advice came back to me I knew that was exactly what was about to happen. Somehow my body knew before my mind (it always does I just never quite understand it). I felt so loved and cherished and adored being around my sister and her family and friends (and my birth father) that shame had no room to keep corroding my every thought.

To make sure I kept shame at bay I also spoke to my sister and her mother. I explained that I had been feeling shame for the past year and that what I did cast such a shadow over the happiest time of her life (she got engaged the day I had surgery). I was so disgusted by feelings of shame that it was making me weak and ill all over again. They both reinforced how much I was loved, forgiven, and an important part of the family. That I wasn’t bad, I had just done something wrong.

My body was telling me it was time to move from shame to guilt. Guilt is ok. I did a bad thing. But I am not a bad person.

I cannot change what happened, but I can make reparations and take a new path. A path to a stronger, better me. A better parent, sister, friend.

I’ve been taking all those steps and doing so quite consciously. I am proud of what I’ve accomplished and even more proud that I just squashed some shame like a bug.

I’m still relieved, even 2 days later. No more panic and anxiety.

I knew something big was coming.

Unlocking myself hasn’t been easy, but I’m getting there. Reducing shame to guilt is a big step forward. I kept thinking something was going to happen TO me, but instead, something happened because of me.

Down in the Dumps

This episode with my kids knocked me way, way down.

And I’m guessing it’s obvious to my friends, or I’ve gotten them scared to death, because they are checking, checking, checking on me a couple times a day.

I can’t knock it.

First, the physical. I feel like I want to cry, like really cry. Get it out. I can’t. I just can’t for some reason. My insides are still buzzy as if they are in high alert. I don’t like this consistent feeling as it signals to me I’m waiting for something bad to happen.

Next, the mental. I’m playing some sort of waiting game. I don’t even know what I’m waiting for but that’s how it feels. I feel like I’m looking for something that’s coming and I don’t know when or how. A couple weeks back, when this feeling started, it felt positive a like great things around the corner. It’s turned into something else, like dreaded anticipation.

I have forgiven my kids and myself for the argument. I made an appt with the therapist for the 4 of us and all of them are angry and rebellious about it. They have some said things that I attribute to their Dad, but I find myself questioning if I really am “that person.” One son said “get a boyfriend already and take the pressure off of us.” Another one said “you expect too much from us and you’re always disappointed”. My toughest guy told me that no one will ever love the way I love and that’s a direct quote from his Dad. I can’t figure out if they are sort of brainwashed or if this is how they see me through their “adult” eyes now. It’s really upsetting me.

I haven’t heard from Mike which admittedly unbalanced me, but I know there’s nothing I can do about it.

I’m upset my sisters mother doesn’t want me to have a plus one at the wedding AND the fact I don’t even have a plus one to ask. I feel like the next 3-4 months of family events that I am ALONE in capital letters.

This feeling of being alone is bothering me. I’ve said it many times but I just want a relationship of some sort already.

I do see, at least, how to help myself beware of my anxious attachment. I think it takes practice as I’ve still gotten little hurts along the way.

I don’t understand exactly how my mind works in terms of the attachment. Tom and Charles were pretty close to “getting it right from go” but my mind selected Mike above them in a way I’ve been able to disconnect from Tom and Charles easily, but less so from Mike. And before anyone says much, this is me in my head, I’m not acting on anything – there’s nothing to act on. In my opinion anyone who says “we’ve been on two dates” just drew a clear line in the sand that I’m not on his radar the way he might be in mine.

My friends think I have more on my plate than I am acknowledging and it’s slightly reminiscent of last summer. Kids, men and work all culminating into concerns at one time and layering on the anxiety. I truly don’t think I’m built for the same level of intensity I was able to put out before, I don’t feel that drive that makes me so strong. Not consistently.

I will write about work in a separate post but at the moment I can’t seem to pull myself up out of my depression.

Crap Travels Downward

The day passed as most do at my new role, uneventfully.

But not in my head. In my head my world seems to be be suffocating me. My body is anxious and disturbed.

On Mikes advice, I try to speak to the x. I knew this wasn’t the right advice for me but I want to try anything at this point to feel better.

What a waste of an hour. This man doesn’t even know his own child. I can’t deal with his stupidity. Even worse, he says he can’t take care of all 3 kids because he doesn’t have the room, he’s busy renovating his mothers basement and he has a life. This lit me right up. I’ve had those kids for 2+ years full time. I need a break and you better fucking figure it out for a few weeks. His answer: no, let them stay “home”. I was livid.

My answer to him was “not my problem you live in a 2 bedroom apartment for 5 years and don’t have space, that’s been your decision, for now you need to parent all 3 of your children together”.

I know I shouldn’t be. This is a man who only cares about himself, his mother and his own satisfaction. A mother who needs a break from a full time adult child has no choice but to care for her child or they are on the street because their father basically rejects his parental responsibility.

His answer: they are 20. Well, two of them will be twenty in a week, but our youngest is 16. Either way, we are responsible for them until they are out of college. He doesn’t see it that way. Nor does he care. He’s got a girlfriend and he’s got a sleepover on Thursday so my son has no where to sleep.

Their Dad is ok telling them to get lost that he has plans.

I am not ok with that. I am not that parent. He knows this so I am left with full time care of 3 kids while the father lives his life and I have a nervous breakdown.

I am so angry. I’m so angry that I made myself sick today. I had to call the therapist for an emergency appt on the phone – that’s how worried about myself I was. I could feel the gently wrapped threads unraveling at a very fast pace.

I took another hour to speak with her. She was genuinely concerned and worried, but had little to offer at the beginning than “you are in a very difficult, nearly impossible, situation”. Yes! I know that! But I’m calling you for answers and strategies!

Eventually we got there. I got a script together for my next steps. It’s not what I expected but it makes sense to me.

I really couldn’t function properly the rest of the day.

The sexting with Mike had me feeling regretful for some unknown reason and the behavior I had with my kids was just leaving me unsettled.

I did tell my group what’s going on with me. Closest friend took me out for drinks and listened. She’s single and in her 40s not much she can add in the way of parenting. But she was there for me when I needed her. Another friend thinks the boys deserve strong consequences (read punishment). When I asked her what she would do differently she couldn’t come up with anything different but insisted she would be tougher than me. This friend is the antithesis of me – never wants to be in another relationship as long as she lives, including parenting her children or being obligated as an adult child to her mother or sisters. She does it better than anyone I know but literally hates it. Again, she was there for me.

I hate that I feel like I need a male partner to support me. Is it because I didn’t get any male parenting while I was a child and haven’t ever seen my x parenting our children? I think there may be something in there. I need male validation and partnership because this has always been a void in my life.

That evening I made another mistake texting Mike while I was at the bar 2 solid glasses of wine in and starting the third on an empty stomach. It started funny and silly but then I made a comment that maybe he could be less distant and just more like the guy I met.

The response: you are really off base. I’ve been nothing but nice to you. We’ve been out twice. I’m sorry you had a bad day and a shitty x

Nothing like being put in your place.

I reread my text and I don’t know how he went from A to Z but he did. I apologized that he misinterpreted my request for him to just be flirty while I was having a bad night.

No mixed signals in his text, eh? When you remind someone you’ve only “been out twice” it’s pretty clear that’s all it was and all it will be. I knew that. Of course I did. I was the idiot who crossed a line because I should never have text him today AT ALL.

He would have come back when he was ready for more sex and not before. But my anxiety got the better of me. I was needy and went to the wrong person for comfort. I knew he wouldn’t or couldn’t give me what I needed but, yet, I still went.

After all – no one, not one person, could help me today. I wanted to go numb. I wanted to sit in a corner and rock and cry. That might have been better than trying to be strong. Maybe I should have taken the time to let it all out. I know that only I can help myself. If I had taken the time to walk through today’s scenarios calmly in my head I would never have made the call to the x or to Mike. I can only help myself. I know this and continue to fight it.

Now I am on a bus home, sitting next to a man who (if he bumps into me once more) I might punch. Dreading the fact that I need to have a conversation with two of my kids when I get home. It can’t wait.

The other kid is with his Dad but I don’t know what he will do Thursday and Friday if his dad kicks him out.

Is getting upset over the x and some dumb text to Mike the end of the world? No. However – I’m always concerned about losing control now. It was the same for a long while with the exercise, I was so afraid to miss even one day I exercised myself into oblivion. It was very, very hard to adjust to less exercise and not crucify myself when I missed a day for good reason. This little derailment is the same. I lost some control, I knew it what happening, I took mostly the right steps to correct it and I will get myself back on track (I think).

I’m obsessing at the moment and I think that’s pretty standard process for me. My mind has to flip everything over and beat it blue before I let go. I get into my head and spin myself into an endless loop that I have quite a bit of trouble breaking. I analyze over and over to see if different actions would have different results. It’s like replaying a horrible highlight reel.

I read an article that helped with post conflict redirection through mantra, and while this helps, I need to find one while I’m in the conflict (or on the brink of making poor decision or exhibit bad behavior)

I know I cannot Define myself by what happened. It’s a bump in the road and I will inch forward and recover. I’m writing as the outlet to help stop the rumination.

I need to reinforce to myself that I am valuable. I am worthy. I am god enough, strong enough, and smart enough. I need to establish a mantra I can repeat when feeling dating or kid anxiety. Mantras cut through the noise in my head and create peace and space. I’ve learned this from almost daily meditation but I need a short and sweet one I can put in my pocket and put on repeat.

I’m just struggling with this pit in my stomach I can’t seem to move past. Then I worry the pit is there for a reason I haven’t acknowledge and that scares me. My intuition is so sensitive and not often wrong. I’m not trying to ignore it I just don’t know what it’s telling me right now.

At the moment I am trying to repeat:

Whatever is meant to be, will be.

There is a time and place for everything.

This too shall pass.

I am still healing, learning and growing.

Everything happens for a reason, even if don’t understand that reason today.

The only thing under my control is me. Deep breaths. Chin up. One foot in front of the other.

First Sign Things are not Going Well off Meds

To say I’m upset is an understatement. Just over 3 weeks off my meds and the cracks are showing. I knew this would most likely happen, but was hoping for the best.

I had an awful night with my kids.

The youngest at 17 asked to go to a party. He came home blind-drunk and vomiting like crazy. He’s nearly 300 pounds and couldn’t walk. His friends and brothers had a terrible time lifting him up stairs and into bed. I didn’t know this until the next morning and it upsets me to no end.

The same night the eldest at 20 asked me to have 4 friends over. I agreed because I figured what harm could 4 friends do. Well, 4 friends shit faced drunk can do enough. I wake at 4:45am now and I asked him to shut it down by 11:30pm. They were so drunk and having so much fun that even though it was in the basement I could hear them all the way in my bedroom. They trashed the basement and my son slipped on the beer soaked floor and ended up in the urgent care the next day.

None of this came to light until I was on my commute home the following day.

When I arrived home and wanted to change the laundry, I saw the clean clothes I had washed in the morning and left in the washer in a big pile on the floor. Later finding out it was because the eldest had vomited repeatedly in his bed and he had to change the sheets. God knows if he just threw them in there without cleaning off the chunks. I wonder if he realizes he needs to change the mattress pad as well?

Most likely not because after we argued he left his tossed room and went to his fathers.

Then I had to pay some bills so I checked my Amex bill to find over $300 in food and gas charges interspersed between my dry cleaning and pharmacy run the kids will do for me. When I told the older boys that they had to pay me back, both went out of their mind that it wasn’t their charges. One got so angry he slammed the desk and things went flying, he broke a small desk accessory. The other threatened to cancel my birthday cake and presents if I took the money from him.

During this time I checked my youngest sons bank account to see he had spent well over $100 of his own money on crap food in the past week. He will be driving in a month and he needs his money for gas. He earned a good salary all summer and more than half of its gone already before school even starts. He’s also obese and I’ve been cooking on the weekends so he has healthy meals all week – no wonder food is going to waste.

I was so upset and so distraught I went straight to screaming and yelling because they continue to lie to me and say they didn’t take my card, it wasn’t them, pointing fingers at the other brothers. It makes me crazy and I went off like a bottle of pop clink fizz.

I exercised hard for about 15 minutes just to get out some of the frustration and then I poured a large glass of wine. I got into bed and took an Ambien.

Mike text during this time and then I called. He could hear I was upset and I told him a little but I don’t really want to tell him much since I don’t know him AND don’t want to scare him away. He really thinks I need to get my x involved to take over for a while. We hung up and then text sex started. I barely remember because I was drugged by that point. I wasn’t happy with what I saw the next morning. While it was just dirty sex talk, he didn’t deserve it from me. I haven’t seen him in 2 weeks and he hasn’t asked me out. When I reread the text this morning I find this embedded in there:

I’m more angry at the pleading text than I am about the text sex – but, believe me, I didn’t like that exchange all that much either when I re-read it.

What’s the point in chasing? NONE.

NO POINT AT ALL.

I truly don’t recall the entire text string. I know ambien, alcohol and emotion don’t mix and he got hold of me at a weak point.

When I woke this morning, I got right up to exercise which felt great. But I literally have this heavy weight on my heart.

I’m not sure I can exist without stronger meds. I feel like a complete parent failure and it just keeps happening, no matter how much I feel I reinforce and hold steady with good behaviors for my kids, they seem to find a way to walk all over me. Then they claim it’s unintentional. To be threatened that my birthday treats will be taken from me because of their bad behavior is a terrible feeling – the fact that my son doesn’t even see that he stole money AND then punishes me for his crime is making me sick to my stomach. The drinking is relatively common at this age but their lack of sense about blacking out or trashing our belongings/home is startling to me. The fact that they don’t think I SHOULD get upset over any of this and call me insane, crazy and over-reactive is hurtful.

My children have zero idea what it takes to maintain and support s home with 3 man-boys full time with no support.

Add in the Mike thing and I just feel crushed this morning.

I would like to cry but my makeup is already on and I have work to prioritize.

I feel so defeated today.

Oh, and add in two lesser evils –

Tom called and asked when he could see me again. I told him I had my sisters 30th birthday party and he was welcome to come since it’s dinner then a casino. He readily agreed. By evening he wrote to say he may have his daughter and would let me know.

My sisters mother is also concerned that I want to bring a plus one to her wedding. While I understand my priority are the obligations I have as maid of honor, once the ceremony is over I am alone. I will know a lot of people, but since this is my birth-family, it’s quite different. I am still an outsider in a way, which doesn’t bother me as I’m there for my sister, her mother and our father. But there will be 5 hours of drinking and dancing and I will mostly be alone and would like to have company. My friend agreed it’s a tough position to put a guy in and while I don’t disagree with that, the right guy would be fine. They don’t even have to come from hotel to reception until after ceremony. And they will sit with me at head table. I don’t think it’s crazy but a bit upset the expectation was I should be alone.

Tuesday just ended like crap and started off my Wednesday with a heavy heart I can’t shake.

She’s Off Her Meds!

This is literally the most welcome thing I have felt in over a year.

My libido is back in all its glory.

Thank Christ. I was worried there for bit.

It’s not exactly a surprise, I’ve worked with my doctors. But, despite that, I was risking other possible issues.

Last year, after my breakdown, I needed to get back on a stronger anti-anxiety medication. The one I had been on for years and years had stopped working and I had been crying and hysterical – out of emotional control – for too long. The doctor chose a basic, but strong new medication for me.

Luckily I had a good friend go on the same meds a couple month before me and she warned me what to experience. The first few weeks were pretty awful. Once my body adjusted I felt like a part of me was just shut down.

The tears stopped. Most intense feelings were just gone. There were no real highs and lows. Things went flat.

This was ok for the time. This was what I needed to pull me out of the spiral I had been in. My body chemistry is always going to need help with depression and anxiety, and I am not opposed to being medicated. Even then, I wasn’t opposed to being shut off either.

Now that’s it’s been 9 months and I began to feel some desire to be sexual again, I needed to call the doctor to revisit these meds. I was having trouble reaching orgasm even through masturbation with the hitachi on high! Never mind that I wasn’t getting much sensation during good sex.

The recent sex I’ve had has really been fabulous. Had I been off those drugs, no doubt it would have been even more off the charts. It was time to consider coming off the meds.

I was worried. I don’t want to go off the deep end again. I don’t want to start being anxious all day and crying again. That trade off wouldn’t be worth it. The doctor suggested a secondary medicine a few months back that I took in addition to the primary one. She had said, when I was ready to stop the primary, the secondary might be enough to give me the anxiety control I needed without the dead inside feeling.

It was worth a try.

So, about 3 weeks ago, I came off the meds.

And this weekend for the first time in years, I was able to masturbate with no aids and have multiple orgasms. Holy cow. The sex with Charles was also pretty intensely felt – I’m certain, had I not been drinking, he was going to make me orgasm, he had an absolutely unique method that my body all out responded to, despite the weird way he held me in position.

You have no idea what a relief this is because I was concerned my body was going to live in this dead zone forever.

I am aware it’s not only about my libido, I have to be careful no other depression and anxiety signs creep in without a discussion with my doctor. I had to reduce the dosage of the secondary meds pretty quickly as they suddenly gave me such a buzzy feeling. Once the primary drug was removed, and the deadness with it, the secondary medicine was too strong in its original dosage. So curious how these drugs all work on our bodies and brains.

I figured post all the sex and light bulb moments it would be good to clarify I got off my meds 😂.

Shhhhh don’t tell Trixie!

I Realized I’m Just Super Frustrated

It took a day for my head to clear, but I realize I am just plain old angry and frustrated because of John.

Not at John.

There’s a huge difference there from my past behavior.

He was perfect on paper, we had a super fun night and it’s the best sex I’ve had since Tony. So what he wasn’t ready for more, he was just a jerk for not saying so sooner because he got caught up with the fun. I’m over it. It’s too bad and move on because there is nothing to dwell on.

But dwell I did. I wanted to figure out why was I obsessing. It occured to me that it wasn’t about him at all – it was about the idea of finally finding a good man for a relationship. My brain placed him squarely in the “absolute potential mate” bucket. The previous guys have been “let me test this out to see if he can be a potential mate, so far so good”. That’s what went wrong – I made a decision long before a decision was warranted.

Why? Because I know I want a partner now. I’m tired of being alone. I’m tired of being with married men. I haven’t had the experience post divorce of having a boyfriend. I realized I never had to do that walk of shame – I always knew where I stood the next morning when I was with a man. I want someone to talk to, someone I can confide in that loves me and wants to be there to support me. Friends are fine, but they are not a partner.

I want to feel the way Tony made me feel about myself with someone who is free to do what he pleases when he pleases. Overnights, weekends, road trips, family affairs and just watching a movie together. I just want a boyfriend already and it makes me nuts that I can’t find one. (Although let me say – even at this level of frustration I won’t date someone short, period).

This situation with John just brought my level of frustration to the top. I realized it when I was swiping like mad in the dating sites today – hoping “he” would pop up. My perfect man. Any man, that I found attractive, really. I felt the desperation. I caught myself. I got into a project at work that distracted me. Then I thought about why I was going through this cycle.

I’m glad my brain is more clear than it used to be and I known my meds are doing their job with reducing my emotional outbursts as well as clearing the cobwebs. When I thought about John, really thought it through, it didn’t matter anymore. Sex was really good, but not anything I would write home about. I enjoyed the actual date more than the sex – he was just fun to be around. I just wanted that feeling of being desired, feeling good about myself, and laughing out loud with a man – to continue. I was angry that it ended. But that has zero to do with John.

I did something yesterday that I’ve never done. I deleted him from every possible form of contact so I wouldn’t have that phone number handy for text or calls. He’s not blocked, but I doubt I ever hear from him again and that’s ok. I’m glad I removed any opportunity to reach out to him in the future.

I had a headache all afternoon from my frustration. So I plan to get home, relax and have a glass of wine. I have fallen into the pattern that Thursday is my off night for working out. I will meditate before bed, but that’s about it for Thursday. I’m going to sit on my deck and have my wine and maybe some Advil until it’s bedtime.

I may even swipe a little more slowly and keep making good choices.

And Now We Wait?

Leaving his apartment was awkward. I thought for sure he would walk me down to my car, but nope. Out to the door and then a finger pointing to the elevator.

That was the moment I knew it wasn’t going any further. Could I be wrong? Sure, it’s possible. However, after all I’ve been through I’ve promised to listen to my inner cues – and they are generally not wrong in the beginning of a relationship.

After a date with a man that was a great date I always knew if they would call. I had no idea if I would hear from John again, despite his repeated words of being a good guy and being so aligned with me. It was a good chemistry but it wasn’t the kind that kept me awake at night. Tony, Bobby, Andrew, Brix (who I flew to CA for), Dan and Dave all come to top of mind as being really excited to seeing them again.

I realized I really wanted to see him again, I wanted to talk to him more and I wanted sex again but there was something stopping me from the “over the top” reaction I normally have. I absolutely had a little butterflies but it was quite moderated.

He had asked me to text him when I arrived home. I knew he was going to see his son for the weekend and we were due to see each other Sunday afternoon (which would have been the first date). But since he didn’t mention Sunday at all, even when I left (no “See you Sunday”) I already felt Sunday wasn’t going to happen.

This didn’t totally eliminate the feeling of being let-down when the conversation had turned into this:

That sounds like a “I won’t be speaking to you today” text.

I was sad but couldn’t help myself so a bit later I started:

No reply to those last text Saturday night.

I woke up feeling like he was going to ghost me and I was both parts angry and sad. He had so much promise and I just want a boyfriend already. I just want to date someone who isn’t attached and who matches my life cadence and he had hit all the right buttons. I was willing to even overlook cock size! 😂. I was so let down this wasn’t getting off the ground and started assuming it had to be me.

What went wrong? Was it the tears or not getting undressed? Was it the bandage and discussion of my surgery’s (which was light and not detailed). Was it just him – he didn’t feel an intense chemistry? I knew without a doubt there was sexual chemistry because we had morning sex and it was great.

I couldn’t let go even though my better sense said stop texting. I didn’t text on Sunday because I felt he was obligated to let me know if he was coming or not if he didn’t want to be a complete waste of a man (I was a bit angry and hurt).

Here’s what I got midday:

As you can see, no further response Sunday evening. I felt mildly better he had at least be kind and text. But this wasn’t the man I was talking to for a week by a long shot. I tried again Monday am with a simple god morning:

And that’s that. Do I believe him? Maybe. Does it matter? He reminded me of Tony in this instant where Tony couldn’t manage me and a drama with his kids sometimes so I would get shut down. Happens that John is exactly same age as Tony and their birthdays are 2 days apart. Is it a Leo characteristic?

I am let down. I had a couple turns in my gut of feeling jumpy to have him text and sad that he wasn’t.

I’m still wondering today but the bottom line is that he knows he needs to communicate with me to Continue. There’s no point in me texting him again.

I do worry it was my scars. That’s going to haunt me. Every man now says I’m so “hot” and my body is so “thin and sexy” and “look at those arms!” And I get it. I look super fit, toned and strong now. It’s appealing to a man who takes care of himself. And a very close friend said my scars would potentially be a dealbreaker – she’s very vain – and she doesn’t know how she would feel. But it’s ugly. And it’s tormenting me.

So there you have it. My “I need to know” is killing me. My tummy gets a little twisty when I think of it – just because it’s the first time in OVER A YEAR I’ve met someone who was a potential.

I do feel lonely now. I do want a partner. But I can’t change the things I want to have in a relationship if I want it to work for me, so that means sit and wait for the next potential and avoid poor choices.

I am sad I haven’t heard from him and it does bother me immensely – perhaps because I see nothing glaring at me that would cause him not to want a second date.

I sent a last text this morning because it’s eating at me. I don’t actually expect an honest reply. But he will likely reply with something.

I probably shouldn’t have sent the last text – when does anyone in these situations tell the truth? But as I’ve been thinking about it I remembered that both August and Tom had the courtesy to say “Thanks, but no thanks” to me and I always say it to a man. He just didn’t strike me as such a player and I guess I missed the cues in there somewhere.

I’m lamenting more over the prospect of an actual match than John himself – which should say something to me. He hit my list attributes one by one and it felt something like a miracle! I will live. It was one date, a great date, and great sex. It also made me realize that no matter how long I wait to sleep with someone my scars are never going away – so I better get that first story/explanation under control for the next time I need to deliver it so I’m not so emotional about it. I would like to believe that someone who really likes you wouldn’t be bothered by my ravished body, but I do think it’s highly possible and I’m going to need to accept when that happens as well.

Adding this at 10am this morning. Pretty clear and straightforward:

Good morning Madeline. Yes, I absolutely owe you an explanation, and every day that passed made it harder to send the message, so thank you for your message this morning. What happened with my boys this weekend just made me think about relationships in general, not really you specifically. You just happened to be here at the time. The bottom line is that I’m not interested in going fast and furious at this point. The communication we had last week wouldn’t have happened if I was here. I was half a world away and the time difference and my free time made it easy and I got caught up. It was really nice though and I enjoyed Fri. I know all this sounds like bullshit, and I would think the same thing if I were in your shoes. I have a million other thoughts but they’re not really important, I’m just not ready for a full blown relationship. I should have said something proactively earlier, I just didn’t even know what I wanted. I’m sorry, you’re really sweet and you deserve the best in the future.

When I’m the Needy One

If you read my blog I’m sure you think I’m needy all the time. But that ain’t so – I’m pretty independent. I manage my home and children on my own. When I’m working I commute and travel long distances. Things get done.

But when I’m sick or sad I’m super needy. And there’s no one that fills Tony’s absence.

I guess it’s pretty normal that when I’m happy and busy that I think of him much less. When I’m sad and depressed he’s at the front of my mind.

A long, long time ago Anne questioned how much I loved Bobby or just loved the experience of Bobby or how he made me feel. In the end, I did have love for Bobby but in hindsight he turned out to be much more about how he made me feel.

I think about that with Tony too. I want to feel absorbed by someone again I want that person to call and tell everything to. I got a job. I got sick. I worked out and did good. Or bad. Whatever. I want to share these things.

So first, let’s get out of the way, I got no answers at the surgeon today because he’s baffled. Now it’s a waiting game. If it’s a fistula it will either resolve on its own (unlikely but not impossible) or make itself known clearly (pain, vomiting, fever). Until then, watch and wait. He wants me to change nothing in my diet or exercise. The only concern at the moment is the skin around the wound is very, very thin and close the bowel and could tear. I just need to pay extra special attention to the wound area as it’s aggravated from the leaking.

I weigh less than I did in my 20s right now. Every day I lose more weight. He says this isn’t the first problem as long as I feel fine.

And, I do feel fine. Other than this damn wound I feel better than ever.

So there’s that. I’m a leaky faucet at the moment.

Oh – and this isn’t exactly related to the VSG surgery. It’s a side effect of any abdominal surgery and there are reasons why it happens in some and not in others. I’ve had multiple same site surgeries and there is a lot of scar tissue and adhesion. There is also some leftover flotsam and jetsam from my childhood surgeries in my body – foreign objects. Never heard that before. But I saw it on the scans and it’s one of the reasons my belly is so disfigured from surgery in 1970.

Of course after the surgeon today I called my family and friends – the Mexico Unit I call them. The ones who brought me through and stand by me and made it clear they love me and want me around. I spoke to them. They listened and offered advice.

But they were not Tony. They don’t love me the same. The feeling isn’t there. I miss being so enveloped in his love. I really do ok on the other days…it’s just days like this….I miss him and how he loved me.

I suppose the good news is – I don’t go looking for that in someone else because I’m missing him. I’m not on the apps or reaching out to anyone else because I feel needy. I just feel needy and miss him.

And I try to care for myself. ❤️

Bitter Envy

I’ve identified a feeling that’s more deeply seated than I realized and I’m not sure how to work through this one. This is when I wish I could afford the therapist.

I realize I am very, very envious of Tony’s life. One of the reasons I can’t seem to let go is I identified with his life as the life I always wanted.

I don’t know exactly how this came to be, but it hit me hard last night. Add that to the list of horrid traits I have.

Tony has everything I want. It’s making me crazy that I don’t, or can’t, have it and it’s right there embodied in one human. How is that even possible? He works for a company I am proud of and thrilled to be a part of as a consumer. He’s respected and intelligent in the workplace. His children love and adore him and he is willing to lay his life on the line for his family. He liked all the same things I liked, including travel. He was a fantastic lover and communicator and oh so kind and gentle. He cared for me and looked after me.

I hate that I still feel bitterness over my divorce and my poor choice of a husband. My x never gave me what I needed, nor could he – but I didn’t or wouldn’t realize this until so many years later. I don’t exactly feel like I’ve wasted time because I have my family, but because we can’t even parent together, I feel the lack of cohesive family painfully. When I look at Tony’s, or other families that function lovingly, I really feel serious and deep envy.

Compared to the Summer of ’16 when I really thought I had it all – the kids seemed to be adapting to our lives well, I was at the start of a love affair, and being offered what I considered to be my penultimate job. I have actually now accepted my job will change and I have become ok with that. I am so confident in my abilities that it will work out. But when it comes to love and my kids, maybe I lack confidence and it’s why I feel envy and regret?

I did feel like a complete failure last summer, which led to the series of events bringing me to Mexico. But, in hindsight, it was coupled with envy and regret. My lover was leaving to live a life he loved and chose over me, and (all of) my kids were not the loving children I thought I raised them to be. These two things I haven’t fully dig deep enough to eradicate. I still feel pain from these things. And I think it stems from being envious that he is the embodiment of the life I wish I had. I believe it must raise my biggest internal fear that I am inadequate.

What are the chances (and why) that one person can have everything you want so exactly? I don’t truly covet many material things (well, I am a little bit bougie) – but a good life with a loving family and partner who cares for me first – that’s all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve always said his life was perfect and I mean perfect for me.

It’s less so about comparing my life to his. I don’t think I have a bad life and I do feel pride (on some level, I should probably learn to feel more honestly) of all I have accomplished. I just look at his life and wish it was how mine played out (minus the cheating husband). Why am I counting his blessings while ignoring my own? How do I remember to be grateful for my accomplishments and my family without feeling envy for what I don’t have? Is it because I saw it and tasted it for myself – I know it’s out there in human form and I can’t have it? It’s not a vanity thing, not something outward – it was his ability to love so wholly and envelope the people he loved the way he did. I’ve never been part of something like that.

And since I’m spilling my guts I also have to admit to texting him from a burner yesterday and asking him to speak. He didn’t reply. As bad as that is, it could have been worse since I was at Peloton for a studio ride and could have gone to his floor (I’m sure I could find him if I went looking). Trixie peeked out, but was seriously chastised by my better self being afraid of utter rejection if I saw him face to face.

I know talking about Tony is like vomit. But this is my safe space while I am without therapy and I can’t speak it out loud anymore. Even I want to knock myself over the head. It’s been 2 years since he stayed in his marriage and a year since I’ve seen him. But, I always say, better out than in – and these ugly thoughts have to come out.

I am learning meditation and yoga. And, as I mentioned yesterday, I do wonder how people who are great coaches always have the best positive self-talk. It just ALWAYS feels false to me. I can do it for a bit then I’m exhausted because it doesn’t feel genuine. Maybe that’s why I’m not the best parent? Maybe I don’t encourage and instill enough confidence because I’m so negative? I always try and out my kids first but feel like they take complete advantage of me rather than love and adore me for it. Do some people just win the patent lottery? (I actually don’t believe that – I do believe Tony and Kelly are excellent parents and they reap what they sowed so that’s why it bothers me more….I clearly did not sow the right seeds).

My kids say I blame everyone and everything else for my problems? Do I? Do I look outward instead of inward? I thought (and so did the therapist) that I was pretty good at identifying my pitfalls and the error of my ways. Their Dad is a master of telling them that I never accept blame. I will admit I am very good at getting away from it and directing blame elsewhere for many things, but I don’t think I shy away from the important things. I would love to be able to say that my kids and my unhappy home life is all because of my x and his poor parenting skills. But he can’t take all the credit, nor have I ever assigned it all to him. I would love to be able to identify why my home/family life isn’t what I hoped/dreamed it would be. I even shied away from blaming my parents in therapy for the way I was raised and what, most likely, created the girl who never felt good enough. I can see the reasons I feel inadequate and I can sort of understand how those would lead to being envious of Tony’s life – but how do I stop wishing it was mine? (just to be clear – I don’t wish I was his wife or replacing his wife – this is much more figurative than that)

One of these days I will figure out why I can’t let go and learn to love what I have along with loving myself. I just don’t know when.

Steps Forward and Back….the Dance of Depression

When I initially set out to create a habit, I was a bit stubborn, determined and a lot bored. I have so much time on my hands, excessive amounts of obsession and depression that I knew I had to do something or succumb to another black hole. My goal was to see if I could break the behavior in 90-100 days and set myself up for real and lasting change.

The one commitment I started with was to ride the Peloton Bike EVERY day. I was going to make that investment worth it come hell or high water. I also really wanted the Peloton Tread and told myself that wasn’t happening until I could prove to myself I was going to use it consistently . The cost of $$ investment was too high to make a frivolous decision. Based on what I knew about myself, 30 or 60 days wasn’t enough. Nor was a 3/5 day a week commitment. Nope, I was going gangbusters on my own ass.

Shit, if I could obsess over Tony for a year every day I should be able to commit to taking care of myself in a positive way for 100 days. At least, right? And maybe, just maybe, a new obsession could replace the Tony obsession. A new focus. The right kind of focus.

May 11th was 90 days from my start on February 11th.

I did not ride the bike for 6 days in that 90 days. 2 from a hospital stay, 3 from a stomach virus and 1 I have no idea. I did do “something” Peloton related those 6 days, even if that meant a meditation. Those 6 days bug me and piss me off. I should allow some leeway but it only makes me feel I can’t commit to anything sometimes. I am forgiving myself because I did realize this past week, when I had the stomach virus, that my body REALLY needed the rest. When I finally did ride again, I rode stronger. Also, I suddenly started to bleed – now I don’t know if it’s a period or not but it would sure explain the utter exhaustion combined with the stomach bug. I get blood tests next week – I’m at my full 5 month mark since my last infusion. I’m banking on a massive drop in iron because I’m having trouble just getting out of bed and I truly can’t find energy within myself.

Once the activity started I realized I was capable of more.

I am learning that healthy habits are what’s going to get me through life. If I do right by myself every day as a way of life, and I fall off the wagon, it doesn’t matter. One day, one weekend or maybe even a week to allow myself space either physically or mentally isn’t going to make me gain back the 75 pounds I lost. What made me gain over and over and over during the past 18 years was the fact that I allowed myself to keep failing. I did not have a healthy habit I was committed to.

For instance, in the past, one cookie on a Friday would mean I could eat a whole box before Sunday. Mid week I could eat poorly again because I had already eaten the cookies. The behavior was a loop and a very bad one. That’s gone.

Now, I eat a cookie if I want a cookie. I drink. AND I watch what I eat all the times in between that and I feel just fine. Every day doesn’t need to be a food party. I am still learning what my balance is, but now clearly have a better relationship with good and healthy eating and make better choices. Eliminating most carbs has removed the carb cravings. I don’t struggle to avoid foods that are not good for me. I have actually lost the appetite for most of my old fatty food choices. They just no longer appeal to me, as if I have lost the taste of them entirely. I also just make better choices for myself and don’t allow myself to feel penalized when I go off. Now I understand healthy eating habits. I almost don’t know why this felt so hard before (yes, it helps that I can’t eat much in one sitting so making better choices makes sense).

I’m off Keto now because my body wasn’t responding well with all the working out. I needed more protein and carbs. I’m working with the nutritionist to find the right balance for that.

So I’m 90 days in and heading towards that 100. I’m contemplating what happens post 100 and what makes sense for me to maintain once working again. I’m speaking with a nutritionist and many trainers about constructing the best “road ahead” for my goals.

That all sounds good, right?

But, and there’s always a but……There are two immense things I struggle with.

One is “encouraging” self-talk. Being my own cheerleader. Congratulating myself. Egging myself on. Encouraging myself. I don’t know how the people who do this (all over my Facebook and Peloton groups – here on the blog too – Maggie is a master ❤️) do it every single day. Are they for real? How can anyone be so positive and encouraging? Do they have a book of positivity quotes? Do they really wake up and make gratitude lists? I want to learn how to do this as I believe I am mostly a critical person (hello, Virgo trait). Not just do it but BELIEVE in it, drink the koolaid, buy the farm.

I chose one thing to try: every day I post my exercise achievements. I was always annoyed by people who did this so have no idea what prompted me to do so, but it seemed easy enough. An unexpected side effect is a lot of my friends congratulate me and encourage me – and many tell me how I’ve motivated them to start their own journey. Two have even bought a Peloton! I guess I realize that if my exercise posts are annoying they can skip over them, but many seem interested. I never expected anyone to care. People are really happy to share their own fitness journeys and tips as well. I use this for my mental well being – it’s like having cheerleaders. I am my own worst enemy with all the positive self talk – – and I do realize this is what coaches and trainers and support groups are best at – reminding you to do your bets every day! I try so hard to be encouraging for others but find it tedious…I wish I could tap into all that positivity consistently. Maybe I should do a 90 day positive energy journey next? I really feel like this is a key to unlocking something for me. What if I HAD to be grateful, satisfied, and positive for the next 90 days?

I have a few platforms on which I can do this. I can help young women with career roles, I can participate as an admin in a Peloton Facebook group and support others along their journey, I can start a gratitude journal. I will just need a place to vomit after I spend the day smiling and performing – at least in the start. I truly don’t know how people wake up and make a choice to be happy. I listen to these coaching mantras and they make sense – but they don’t make me cry and evaluate my life and affect me the way they do many people I know. Church also doesn’t have that impact on me. I have to figure this piece out – the part of me I want to put into the universe to grow and make better.

The second one is my absolute fear I will give up. Why? Because I have ALWAYS given up in the past. I don’t give up on obsessing over Tony so clearly I can obsess where my brain wants to -but obsessing about my exercise and health? Welp, that’s partially how I ended up in Mexico in the first place. Although I had legitimate reasons this past week for not exercising to my normal capacity, I feel immense guilt and worry that every day I can’t is simply going to lead to another day I don’t want to. I’m worried that if I can’t get my iron for 2 months or so (which is highly likely to happen, thanks insurance) I will allow myself to remain exhausted instead of pushing through. And once I stop for too long, all that hard work disappears.

When your body is depleted it’s so hard to get your mind to work. I’ve been sick and tired for so long, so very long, that the thought still crosses my mind that all this is just too hard, too much work and I’m tired, really tired of trying so hard just to wake up every day. Will positive self-talk change this? Will more exercise? Will better body acceptance? Will falling in love? My kids treating me better? Self-acceptance? When this exhaustion hits, the depression grabs hold of the thought and runs away with it….and that is ALWAYS a fear.