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.

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.

A Funny Feeling

This is a first. I suppose inevitable but, still, it feels strange.

I feel a bit needy for affection, which is typical M. It comes and goes. I am definitely more horny than I have been in over a year.

I have zero desire to reach out to Tony.

Don’t know when that happened but definitely within the month of August as I was certainly thinking of him fondly around his birthday which is August 8th.

I went back today and looked at some of our photos and he’s just a man again. I feel sad more than anything but not compelled to reach out to him because I want sex or affection.

It’s quite strange. He’s had such a hold on my heart for 3 solid years.

Like I said, so much seems to be happening to me all at once, that I feel like something else is around the corner.

But this was a big one. I didn’t feel anything for Tony. Not really. A bit of anger, regret, sadness and still love. It will always be love because I believed in him so deeply.

Just not attraction. Not the lust. Not the need.

A welcome relief.

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!

So Much on my Mind

Right now I feel like a could write a book. I’m no good at short versions of anything and so much has been churning inside of my head lately I wish there was a way to get it out as the thoughts happened and into the blog. It all seems so logical when I’m thinking of it, but when I go back to write it, so much seems to slip away and I end up not knowing where to start.

I felt like light bulbs have been turning on all over the place lately. I know it’s all tied up with my current situation in dating. I’m having a moment like I haven’t had in a very long time. My libido is back in full blast and it absolutely wreaks havoc on my good intentions to have better behaviors while dating.

The difference is – now I know it. And I realized I can do something about it. Maybe not the something some might prefer me to do (not drink, not have sex, not date kind of thing). I now realize if I decide to do the things I do, all I need to do is accept responsibility for what they are at face value and stop putting so much more time and wasted effort into wanting them to be more than they are

I’ve simply got to learn to accept that I can have sex, drink, be ridiculous and WALK AWAY once it’s over.

I’m going to stop feeling bad about myself after I make questionable decisions. Berating myself and becoming more anxious is serving no purpose. I need to own it.

The pressure my attachment anxiety puts on me in these dating situations has to stop. I’ve started having conversations with my anxiety similar to the way I would speak to Trixie if she ever materialized (god help us all).

Sound silly? Maybe. But if talking to myself is what it takes to own my behavior and course correct then so be it.

My dating cup is running over and I’m letting it. I feel like I’ve uncovered something big and want to see if I can put thought into practice.

My whole life has been spent looking for male approval. I didn’t get it from my father. I didn’t get it from husband. The first time I felt really and truly solid about myself the “approval” came from the wrong place (married men). In hindsight, I don’t know if that matters to what I have learned. I don’t think the man himself or the situations make any difference to what I took from them. In hindsight, I learned so much about myself and what I needed to feel good in relationship. If I had been more capable of controlling my emotions, these could have been all positive experiences. Maggie and Nichts recently have me thinking about how to reframe what I’ve been through and how I see my past. In all my recent writing about dating, and digging through my past, I finally realize I can stop needing a man to make me feel worthy.

I actually do feel worthy now. I feel alive and powerful more than ever in some ways (and weaker in others). Maybe I didn’t arrive at this place from the traditional “self-love” approach. Maybe I just filter things through my male-approval lens to understand them because that’s how I’ve always seen the world. I think I needed a solid round of decent dates, some quick turnover, some great sex as well as some rejection to realize I’m actually ok. It’s a normal cycle to be rejected one way or the other in dating. I never learned to accept it and still find myself worthy.

I realize I can. I can own the rejection and move past it. I can own the sex on first dates because I wanted it. I am doing my best balls-to-the-wall to push away the anxiety.

I don’t even know if I am making any sense. Like I said, it all sounded so solid and so crystal clear in my head and getting these thoughts into words has proven difficult.

I know I’m going to be fine. It doesn’t mean I won’t struggle with learning how to slow down, not push for more at the wrong time or with the wrong person. It doesn’t mean I won’t obsess a little or overthink situations. Those are just things I do. I just don’t need to overdo them.

Each man / situation gave me a light bulb moment this week so they will each get a post: Mike, Thomas and Charles (yup a new one!).

I can honestly say I’ve never had this kind of clarity around dating before. I feel like I’m seeing myself for the first time. Somehow I think I’m on the edge of something bigger that’s yet unidentified and in front of me. I feel in control in a way I have never experienced before.

It’s good to be on the edge. It’s liberating. It feels like Trixie level excitement without the crazy. Is that a thing?

I guess we are going to find out if it is or not. And hope I’m not feeding myself lip service.

Big Words: Desperation, Communication, Attachment (part 1)

Morning my friends!

Many thanks to all of you who take time to give me insight and advice. I always love the feedback, I never construe it as negative and, in general, unless you are consistently poking at me, I don’t take any offense.

In particular, Jana’s comment from last week resonated with me and I had vacillated between replying directly to Jana’s comment and writing a post reply.

Obviously the post reply won.

First and foremost Jana, thank you. I always appreciate everyone (my whole tribe of faithfuls: KDaddy, Sassy, Morava, Gone, Nich, Maggie, Ann, NBrat) who takes their own time to thoughtfully comment on my blog. It means a lot to me.

So here goes – not everything is in direct response to Jana’s post, but it’s where the seeds were planted for this post.

Quite some time ago, someone on my blog identified anxious attachment syndrome. The first time I heard that on my blog I didn’t know what it was, so I did some research. There is no question I have anxious attachment. Much later, when I went to my therapist, it was one of the first things she identified and wanted me to work on getting back to my inner child so I could determine why and where the anxious attachment syndrome started. I didn’t want to do that work with her at the time. My focus with her then was all about healing, letting go of Tony, learning to be a better parent and building back my confidence. We didn’t ignore the fact that my inner child was crying for help, we did talk about root cause often, but I struggled – and still do – with therapy that makes you go back to childhood to view situations you can not change. Especially when it involves my dead Mother. I do not want to change my perception of my mother because I can no longer discuss any of it with my mother.

I know I am not willing and not ready to take this backwards view. I may never be.

My therapist and I spoke about that. Would I forever be damaged if I didn’t find the roots and forgive myself and the people around me for why I developed anxious attachment? Would I be able to forgive a depressed and anxious birth mother for being miserable her entire pregnancy and affecting my gestational period? Would I be able to forgive my father for loving my mother So obsessively he accepted the fact she wanted children or she would leave him, so he conceded but had no desire to actually raise a family? Would I forgive my mother for the fact that she gave up her life to deal with a depressed and mentally unstable and demanding mother as well as a hyperactive child (who in the 70s was undiagnosed and considered “bad”). Can I forgive them?

Yes. I have already forgiven all of them.

Do I want to think about and try to better understand how those forces built an anxious attachment in me that was created in childhood and then cultivated over 22 more adult years in marriage?

No. I don’t.

I know I have anxious attachment syndrome. But I also believe, as did my therapist, I don’t have to go back to move forward.

I do have to learn my triggers, understand the signals my body gives me and stop neglecting the small voice that says “you are not enough and you deserve less”. Or, more often, “you’ve done something wrong.”

I think, if nothing else has ever come across clearly on my blog – the one thing that has always cut through is my direct and transparent honest about myself.

With that said, this blog is an actual real time blog. I blog entirely top of mind and you all get to look first hand at my craziness, happiness, depression, anger, joy, elation, confusion and frustration. I put it ALL right here in the best words I can find to share with you. I don’t edit myself. I write what I think and how I feel.

Does it come across as desperate many times? Yes.

I am not exactly desperate anymore. I’m sure of this. Do my words sound that way? Sure, I can see that.

But you get a birds eye view of how my mind is churning through every available path and avenue. The choices I can make. The roads I should and definitely should not travel. You’ve seen where Trixie (and her friend Tricia) live. You watch me fold and unfold and refold the same towel a thousand times – fueled by my nervous anxiety.

I felt I needed to be clear about where I am today. I am in a better place than I’ve ever been in my life. My life has taken the best path since February 11th, 200 days ago. I am a drug addict, I have to count the days my head stays straight on my shoulders and I continue to make better choices for myself. I know this.

Right now, I do not believe any man is going to derail me. Do I get sad and frustrated and angry and write about it in the moment? Yes, I do. Because you help me suss out things I didn’t want to see when I wrote the post. Coming back to the comments is like revisiting the crime scene. I have to go through the action again (in my head) in order to reply to thoughtful comments. When I do especially “bad” things – I write about it because it’s the last way I have to hold myself accountable. It reminds me I wasn’t listening to my better senses.

I loved my therapist. I think she did an amazing job in the time we had. I was a big fucking nut to crack in under 4 months. She cut across and gave me tools to manage my family, Tony, getting back to work and developing new relationships. I wish I had more time with her but – as life is – I don’t have the time or money to see a therapist. In place of that, I’ve been educating myself and consuming self-help books by the handfuls, like MMs. It would be ideal to have the resources I needed to stay in therapy for a good long while. It’s just not going to happen right now in my life. I have time for one dedicated “activity” outside of work – my choice is fitness over mental health (assuming there was a therapist who worked in the evening or weekends). This is my choice in life. I’ve learned not to swallow a whale right now. Trying to fit any more in (structure) is going to be too stressful for me. Therapy shouldn’t be stressful. But trying to find the time and money right now would cause even more anxiety. I am fully comfortable with my choice.

There are two very divided schools of thought about how to manage anxious attachment. I always thought this to be be super interesting because the tactics are so opposite one another. And you all definitely reflected the two schools of thought in the comments!

One thought is figure out how to love yourself first.

But the other is – practice. Date as many people as you can and practice identifying and managing the anxious attachment.

Do I love myself? I’m trying. I’m absolutely in the best place I’ve ever been. I consciously work on positive self talk and creating good habits. I will probably always struggle with some form of “I’m wrong, I’m not good enough or please love me and don’t leave me” but I am working on my three worst fears that create my anxiety. Am I desperate? No. I’m not. I experience desperation and rejection within the dating scene, but I am not desperate. I can be alone. I have filled my life with healthy and happy people and habits.

So, along with the agreement of my therapist, we discussed allowing me to practice managing the anxiety through dating. If it became overwhelming I was to stop. And I did – for short periods – if it wasn’t serving me. And now, twice in 200 days I had two back to back events I wrote about that got my goat and I became frustrated. I experienced the anxious attachment in its full form and for the first time in my life I RECOGNIZED my behavior and subsequently controlled it.

That’s a win in my book.

Should it be controlled from the start? Yes! I hope to make that happen. But in the meantime, I’m super proud I had maybe 2 24 hour periods where I worked through it and acknowledged what I felt. I sat with it.

post script: somehow, half this post was cut off and lost. I will try and re-create the second half tomorrow so I can address what I’ve discovered about communication.

Blue Star ⭐️ Days

When I was dating Tony, over the course of 2 years, my period was virtually always consistent. With the help of an app, I could see when I would ovulate and, usually within a day or so, when I would bleed. The most fertile days during a cycle where marked with blue stars. And the blue stars where never wrong. I ovulated right on time and would be madly horny on Blue Star Days. Tony and I loved Blue Star Days because they were like a guaranteed evening of fabulous sex.

I haven’t had to worry about blue star days in well over a year. Since the surgeries, my period is so irregular I can’t even use the app or attempt to guess when I might get a period. Doctors think there could be multiple reasons for this: it takes the body a year to recover from so much surgery, I’m in Peri-menopause, or I could have traumatized my body so much the periods never go back to a routine schedule. I lost it entirely for some months and then it’s come back gradually, but entirely inconsistent.

These last two months, I began to notice that I was feeling more frisky again. When I checked the app, those days fell pretty squarely into the marked blue star days, even though I was irregular (the app still predicts for you). It felt like my body was beginning to feel sexual again. I know for sure it wasn’t like this with August or Rob. My body worked fine during, but didn’t have the buildup that lasts over the course of the Blue Star Days. I was pretty excited to notice because anything that feels “normal” to me is a great feeling these days. I don’t look like the woman I was, people don’t recognize me and my close family and friends are horrified with the weight loss. So anything that makes me feel even remotely normal again helps my self-esteem even if it’s not something anyone else can see.

I learned from John that having fabulous uninhibited sex hasn’t changed, other than the fear to expose my belly. I’ve convinced myself that’s what his issue was but I will never know. I am so glad I deleted him.

I look at myself often in the mirror without clothes on and try to think what I could possibly do to offset the belly disaster. It’s not only the belly, I have excess skin that sorts of melts down my ass and breasts. Everything looks deflated. I started at 214 pounds and I’m just at 130 pounds and trying to hang on to every pound. All of this hasn’t changed how my mind and body work when sex kicks in – I almost go blank when I’m experiencing the pleasure.

And when I’m in the moment – all I care about is giving and receiving pleasure. I don’t want to worry about how my body is flapping in the wind.

I wish I knew a way to just ignore it. I want to be able to throw my clothes off into a heap and jump on a guys cock with no thought in mind except riding him. Now I’m weighted down by how my body looks to him while I’m up there. So many positions put my belly in a horribly exposed situation – even from behind a large pouch sort of hangs down and looks detached from the new muscles underneath it. It’s just horrid looking. Will a man accept the wild pleasure I derive from sex and enjoy himself or is he going to loose interest or get distracted?

Before I even finished this post, I put it to the test – entirely unintentionally.

Remember that crazy swiping session right after John? Well…it netted unexpected results.

Back in the Saddle Again

Today is back to work day!

I put the exclamation point there to convince myself this is a good thing. It is, right?!🙄

I secured a freelance role to cover a maternity leave. The isn’t what I’m accustomed to, but it’s fair. The role can be anywhere from 3-6 months and it’s a company on my top 10 list. I’m not sure how much I will like the role itself, but I’m pretty certain it’s well within my wheelhouse.

I felt excitement when I interviewed and pleased that the man who hired me did so because he knew me and my work ethic from many moons ago.

The office is much closer than my previous office, shaving off at least 25 minutes each way each day. That’s a huge time savings I can dump back into my work out efforts.

I don’t know why I’m not excited. My friends and family are more excited than I am. Lots of support from the home team. I feel sort of nothing. I don’t think my brain is turned on yet.

I am going to approach this the same way I approached my fitness, one step and one day at a time. I cannot allow myself to get to invested or emotional, I need to focus and do a good job. I don’t need to be the best, I just need to be good at what I do. I will not kill myself and push myself to a breaking point again. I cannot afford to lose the new found sense of self I’ve gained.

So, hi-ho hi-ho it’s off to work I go.

Wish me luck!

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. ❤️