One day at a time…disconnected

It is such a beautiful day today. After a week of almost non stop rain and grey skies the sun has come out and I am trying to get myself motivated to go to the gym, or at least go for a walk in the sunshine and fresh air. Touch nature. Earth myself and reconnect with life going on. Because I have disconnected again.

Normally I would have my beautiful eldest son here with me being a Sunday, but this morning as I woke I struggled. I have been struggling for the past week at least. I had a virus and my body was so fucked up with anxiety, grief and stress that it was fatigued and just said ‘no’. For at least 3 of the days I could barely pull myself out of bed. I felt so weak. Nothing is more fucked up as when both your body and your mind says ‘no’.

All things were leading to it. My eldest son whom those who read this blog know is now showing the full effects of this insidious neurodegenerative disease that not only takes everything from him but takes those that love him along with it…its painful to watch. Inside I feel like my heart is slowly being torn to bits, and my soul aches. My hopes and dreams for this beautiful human to have a wonderful fulfilling life no longer an option.

Some days I pull myself out of everything because I can not face watching everyone else be able to just go on with their lives, moaning and groaning about how someone cut them off on the road, or the neighbours cat pooing in their garden, or a friend bitching about another friend because they just did not agree with them, or that America is in such a hole because of that idiot twat-face who seems to think he has the right to call himself a President! and I just want to scream;

FUCK YOU ALL, FUCK YOU WITH YOUR INSIGNIFICANT DIATRIBE…..MY SON IS DYING…

So many things have pushed me these last weeks. Hearing that his sight is starting to fail on top of everything else and being with him on the couch watching him fall asleep next to me tired and imagining he may stop breathing in front of me, or is this what he will look like when he passes. Shit at the office, people speaking to me and about me as if I was a bit of shit under their boot because their own lives are so fucked up they needed to pick on someone who seems happy and affable and just ‘nice’. A very dear friend of mine, miles away in Sydney where I can’t get to see him telling me by text because he can no longer speak, his cancer has now moved into his spine. An ex – fiance who I haven’t seen in nearly 30 years arriving back in town and harassing me endlessly with phone calls and text messages to help him because he did stupid stuff again and has no one else he can leach off because he has fucked up again and again, but hey, just call Roz..she’s a soft touch.  And lastly, temporarily pulling away from my beautiful yank 2 because everything that was going on was becoming just too much and causing myself heartache over it in the meantime because I was shutting myself off from the one thing that does bring some happiness and joy into my life at present.

I don’t make it easier by not taking medication, everyone else does it to cope why don’t I?

Because it took me a long time to see my normal self again after 17 years on it and I worked hard to find me again in the middle of probably the worst 5 years of my life. No, I got that wrong, this has been a return to some of the worst years of my life as my childhood was pretty awful and fucked up.

Doesn’t matter what I say, there will always be some other smartarse out there that will say; well at least you have a roof over your head and you are not starving etc etc…I fucking know that you moron but there is only so much a person can handle on their own in their own life without taking on the guilt of every fucked up thing in this world today.

I watched the wonderful Gore Vidal in a documentary about his life last night. It was not too long before his death and an interviewer asked him what he thought his legacy would be and he did not miss a beat and said “I really do not give a … damn”.  It made me laugh. It made me think how wonderful it would be if I could simply not give a damn about it all. Easier, less painful.

But I can’t because I do, so I need to take each day as it comes and move one foot after the other and reconnect.

I am now going to take that walk in the sunshine whilst it is out….

Love and whitelight xx

Advertisements

Life well past him..over 2 years on..

It’s been many months since I have posted. Recently a friend said to me ‘you haven’t written in your blog for a long time’ I told her I was surprised she’d read it, and she said, ‘of course I enjoy reading it’.

Writing seemed to help me through troubled times.  My very first post was 18 May 2015 only days after being back from Arizona and seeing the ‘him’ in ‘life beyond him’ that fucking crazy time. When I read back some of my posts I say ‘oh boy what a troubled mind’.

Yank 2 (I hate calling him that now because I know he doesn’t like being referred to as yank but that was the character name I gave at the time), Chicago boy, whom I am still connected to but this weekend had decided to pull away from for my sanity often says my one redeeming feature is self awareness. Oh I am aware, I am aware how much I do not fit into this crazy existence and at times, like today I realise how much easier it is to just let everything overwhelm you to such an extent that you just want to leave this life..find peace, and death seems very attractive. But that is no longer my reality. I am stronger than that. I just have days when I need to recalibrate.  I am still 2 and a half years off antidepressants after 17 years on them and although I have bad days they are few and far between now and I get over it. The reality is life is not one straight path. It meanders and it runs uphill and downhill and sometimes round and round in circles.

Today I am having a mental health day. And I have been honest and told my bosses why. But I feel incredibly guilty because I am grateful I now have a job.  I work with good people and that is a blessing and even though it is only a contract until September 2018 I at least feel safe until then and that helps.  I have an apartment with an amazing view of the city.  Its old inside, paint peeling, fixtures from the early 60’s but I have made it my space and it is pretty cosy. I get out and about more often and even though I still would prefer to be elsewhere, like Sydney or even Chicago, at this time it is good to be in the city. I have some freedom again, not locked up in a little room miles from everything, isolated, down and unable to afford to get out and see my sons let alone anywhere else, living with a loud, selfish and quite mad mother whom I now just pity more often than not.

I see my sons regularly and at this time with my eldest sons disease now taking everything from him it is where I need to be.  After spending the day with him yesterday and watching him trapped in his body, with his eyesight going now too…I looked into those beautiful eyes as I held him and I felt utterly shattered. I cried in front of him (and that is not done in my book, I always try to keep him happy) and apologised that this was happening to him and I felt so helpless…it was the worst feeling in the world. It makes the pain, hell and damage I felt from that narcissistic bastard of 2 years ago pale in comparison.

And Yank 2. We are still friends. We had agreed about a year ago to keep things at that level but somehow it escalated it again and only a week ago we were talking about first me going over there for a couple of weeks and then it changed to him coming here, well, to Sydney at least where his brother is.  Where we would finally meet in the physical sense. We have had months of the most amazing connection, skyping regularly every week, I think the love and care was just palpable. Plenty of laughs and good discussions. But we are both quite flawed individuals. I am probably more prone to admitting that than he.

I stopped writing also because I felt it difficult to tell this story and put it out there in public without repercussions. People knowing or realising who I am talking about. The Italian hated it and yet read my posts especially about him constantly. Alot of people want privacy yet have no problem with social media posts, selfies and yank 3 used to say he liked reading about himself in my posts! But he’s a crazy funny bastard and is quite happy with himself. He has left Guam now and is back in the States, Texas I think after a short time in Colorado. He pops up now and again, sends me something funny on Messenger but we are not Facebook friends. I try to restrict that and at times I find I need to pull away from the constant chatter of FB and as I have said before the apparent ‘perfect lives’ everyone seems to be having on there. Even Instagram which people now seem to use more often is just one photo of peoples wonderful lives after another I am surprised there aren’t shots of them wiping there arses on the toilet with happy smiles!

Its the way of the world now. Adapt or go mad!

I just realised it has taken me hours to write this. I have stopped along the way to cry, think,  remember. Try make sense of things. Try put some clarity into a head and body that is tired and muddled. But that is today.

Love and whitelight xx

Life, beyond, him…why am I female?

I was going to cease and desist. My blog. And it’s been 3 months since I have written.

Alot has happened. Alot has not changed.

Buggered if I know how to publish this without the reach of Facebook. I have recently deactivated my Facebook page and quite frankly, the peace and the lack of feeling as if my life was a complete loss compared to all these happy faces taking a trip here and there, newly married, happy shots of big groups of friends on big social occasions, all the ‘everyone else is bloody deliriously happy but me’ shots they post and POSITIVE thinking shit to boot; if you don’t think ‘this’ you are failing in life but we will pat your back anyway….bloody arrrggghh

Just about drove me to despair…in fact it did..

My life. Sucks. Has sucked for the last few years. Starting with Yank 1..the ‘him’ in Life beyond him…blahdy blah. Should never have gone there…but I did.

Yank 2 whom I still talk to and adore but he does not know what he wants (although he thinks he does) and is too frozen in place with his comfortable at present life. But there is something missing…I guess there is for us all…

There have been others recently too (I still play when I want to), but not really worth an honourable mention. Except the italian who is wonderful to talk to…we are friends.

Moving through prelude to and then meno..fucking pause itself that never seems to pause dammit…

My eldest son and his degenerative disease and losing his ability to talk, eat, walk etc etc and because of forces I am unable to control not being able to see him as often or even….oh god…

Living in a place I have not wanted to be in for far too long. Work..Economic situation in this goddamn arsehole of a parochial, expensive, isolated and far too keen on themselves city…plus much more and under a haze I cannot at this very point be more specific…

Oh shit..I should just shoot myself now. And I probably would if it wasn’t for my two..older now but beautiful sons…

Sometimes, I absolutely hate being a woman too. We sacrifice alot to bring up and look after our kids. Alot of men are able to continue their careers while we have to exit to have our kids and by the time we are back things have changed..we have to play catch up and if we divorce, if we aren’t bitches in general who clean our husbands out at divorce because we want to be fair and equitable we miss out on alot of superannuation and other things. Our bodies are stretched and scarred beyond recognition and so are our vaginas which MEN eventually use as an excuse to be seeking out younger women…because oh geez who wants a vagina that’s had a human life pass through it???

Why would a man want a wrinkled..life lived and totally fucked by men woman when we can have a 20 year old with a father complex, tight vagina and never has the brain capacity to question the sugar daddy even he with the limpest of cocks…fuck who cares I can buy buy buy on his credit card because the silly limp dicked bastard is just extremely happy I am even giving him the time of day…what limp dick?

Do I seem like a disconnected angry female…?  Yes I am…

I could go on feeling victimised. Resentful. There is plenty of good reason. But the only one that this energy is going to effect is me.

This is why I stopped writing…I am still…not in a good place. Not good enough for the expectations society places on me…yet…what is the way out…

Love and whitelight xx

La Fin..Life Beyond Him..

Its taken a while but my 20 year old (my youngest son..whom is well) made a valid point yesterday. We spent some valuable one on one time…rare these days but wonderful.

What is the the point of “life beyond him” mum..’him’..that time..is over.

He was right. I no longer consider that time in my life as relevant.

He..Him..is now a figment. A colossal waste of time and energy. And the rest pretty much are too. A ridiculous aberration. A dumb ass period of absolute futility.

I have dated a couple of times after him who shall  remain nameless. In the rare time I would lift up and say ohh fuck it I have to get out..it reiterated that even though there are nice guys there..rare.. I am older and far more aware of what fits and what doesn’t.

I have finally learned and had enough. Now it is all about peace and being happy with me. Just me.

I still talk to Yank 2. The stayer in this all. He who shall remain nameless predicted I had a connection with Y2. Yes, I guess he was right. And very recently we seemed to get closer again. But I am no longer happy banging my head, considering the man first, penis driven (not that Y2 and I have been able to consummate as such..we only skype, email and phone  but hell we’ve had some fun!). And he is damned interesting and funny and alot of things certain others just aren’t.

But I am also not certain about him. I met his beloved older brother, whom he loves and absolutely adores…when I was in Sydney earlier this year and he was lovely. Then there was a family wedding I was asked to go to, it seemed to be the thing…it kept us motivated for a while. I was meant to fly to Chicago to attend and to see him and luckily it didn’t happen. It appears it just wasn’t right. We are half a globe away. He had said that when it came to crunch time (a couple of days before I flew) he felt “If you see a tornado, do you run to it or from  it?”

He told me that after we hadn’t spoken for a couple of months, and then only  as friends.

I love him as a friend. And as time has gone on maybe more..again. Our conversations and other has progressed again. But I am SO DONE with all the wank and bullshit between men and women these days.

There is no such thing as loyalty. Everyone is looking for the next best thing. At the drop of a hat.

I’ve been through a blinding depression again recently. I have not felt so damn black and hopeless and profoundly sad and…oh the list goes on for a long time and this time sans medication. I have questioned why the flying fuck am I here…aside from my anchors..my sons. I can’t be bothered talking about it because these days everyone has an ‘expert’ opinion. AND THEY ARE JUST FUCKING IGNORANT AND WRONG more often than not.

So I don’t bother.

I can’t be bothered with lack of intelligence, experience and ignorance. Bias, parochialism, idiocy, self centredness, narcissism and Machiavellianism.

But it seems to be the way of the world. Elections, business, government, relationships etc.

Anyway.

It is time to say farewell to this blog. My friend indeed. It has served me well.

It is time to start a new thing. New title, theme, life, attitude…oh geez..god knows what…

At this stage I am tiddly and tired. My shuffle on Ipod has just started to play White Zombie…something really heavy and right now…it just doesn’t resonate.

Need to just write afresh. Start afresh when I feel motivated. Maybe use another method of reach. I am not happy with the fact that the people you don’t want to access your writing like  prospective employers, government, other organisations and people that should have no real business in your business, use the public domain to form opinions and biases when in all reality sometimes they have no idea what is real and what is not.

In essence..if we are not at work or whatever it is none of their damned business. Stop spying you arseholes…FUCK OFF

Anyway. I thank my loyal few followers and readers. I wish you all alot of love and luck.

I will write again…under a different title and probably pen name..I hope we meet again

Love an whitelight xxx

too low for zero…those frigging groundhogs

Often when going through a depression it is difficult to wake up, you peel one eye open and even if the sun is shining through the curtain, say “oh whats the use?” and if lucky manage to fall back to sleep again. Sleeping is a welcome relief from the negative thoughts and ruminations, the anxiety you feel about having to interact with other humans because often you simply do not want to be anywhere near them, and the thought about how you are going to get yourself through the day. (Mind you that is when you have the semi functioning form of it).

I get a message this morning from a dear friend who tells me he has been diagnosed with ‘cancer of the esophagus’ and I sit for a while..in bed…in shock. I am not sure how to process this. After all it is not me, it is him that is about to go through a very tough journey but hopefully win the fight. I will be as ‘there’ for him as I can be (he is in Sydney and I am in Perth) but I am at present here because as I have mentioned many times because of my beautiful eldest son who is suffering the effect of a degenerative illness with no hope for a cure and at present it has progressed more rapidly than before. Why has this happened to people I love and care about the most. Why does it not happen to the evil bastards out there instead?

I spent a wonderful afternoon and evening with my boy yesterday and it lifted me immensely. Every moment I get to spend with him is a joy. A temporary relief from the constant feeling of what my psych calls pre-grief or anticipatory grief. Grief comes in many forms. It often accompanies certain feelings of guilt too especially as a parent that your child has this and why is it not you instead. You would give anything for it to be you instead. Or to find a way to make it all go away.

Often lately I just feel either highly emotional or completely numb. But compared to how low I got when I was depressed and yet on medication it seems I can at times still pull out of it for a while. I have been getting myself to the gym in the last weeks trying to lift out of it and gain strength and perspective again. Even going back to my psych for much needed psychotherapy which means I am no longer self medicating as much with alcohol etc. When I drink now I know I will be happy for a little while and then know I will feel low the next day but awareness when you can be helps.

And then into the mix I try relationships, still, even though it really probably isn’t the best time but I figure that this cycle of depression, grief and just general crap has been part of my life wasted in the last few years and am aware that time passes quickly. I dont want to say this next chapter this decade (I felt like my entire 40’s was pretty much a dead loss with the exception of my time bringing up and being with my sons) is also a waste.

So I keep trying. I believe in love.

I am one of those idiots who feels that remaining friends with exes and love interests should be easier than it actually is. I am a communicator, sometimes overly so but that is me. For years I kept the lines of communication open for my boys’ sakes with their father and it worked very well until it became abundantly clear that his new wife was incredibly insecure about it and me and started to cause all sorts of rubbish. Thankfully by that time my boys were grown enough that she could have no negative influence on them and how they are as people. There is a whole chapter on that crazy shit and in all honesty…it ain’t worth the energy.

Then the other night I spoke to a certain someone, after we had mended the fence slightly over the course of a week or so, slowly, and I thought that we could move forward and stay friends at least and then that came crashing down with an almighty bang ending with me hanging up after saying ‘you will not have to the chance to hurt me again’. This time I meant it. For self preservation. This guy was subtle but for me it was death by a thousand cuts.

I seem to be drawn to headcases. The unreachable. It is almost as if I choose these crazy bastards because I am comfortable in the ‘zone of pain’. It feels normal to me. If someone comes to me and is enamoured and gives me too much love and respect I can’t cope and it doesn’t feel right.

I am working on that. As I said I have started going back to my psych because on top of how careless I am with my heart I am not handling many things well. And I know it.

I was so drunk the other night, after my phone call with the above mentioned (I can’t say his codename because he reads and gets very annoyed with me, not that I should care anymore anyway as we will never talk to each other again. I am also annoyed that I let his attitude to my blogging effect my regular writing. I was too concerned about what he would think and that was stupid. Yet another man trying to control me. Never again) I also texted the ‘him’ (yank 1) in ‘life beyond him’ and made mention of how impressed I was with his amazingly large manhood albeit somewhat faulty these days it seemed…are you supposed to harangue a narcissist? Too bad, I did.

Yes I have lost it and at this point in time my care factor is zero. I am as Elton John would say “too low for zero”. (See song https://youtu.be/PjzkGKczRNY).

But in there still is yank 2. We still talk on skype at least once a week, even if not as long as we did and it is his friendship and our crazy illuminated, animated conversations that have helped. He talks me through things with intelligent perspective. He is as off the wall as I. It is sad it is only friendship but it is much treasured.

When will groundhog day cease and things start to make sense.

Love and whitelight xx

Slim pickings…humanity

I’ve been at a loss about how to approach a myriad of things on my mind lately; relationships and dating in middle age (god I hate that classification), depression, life’s struggles, and crazy occurrences. I’ve missed writing my blog regularly, but I’d made a conscious decision not to for a little while because I caused offence to certain persons and that was not my intention. This blog was created for me and my journey and writing real life as a catharsis.

But as it turned out, being public and curiosity getting the better of people my blog was being ‘read’ and some were not very impressed at times! Some, I couldn’t give two hoots about that being the case but others I do care about.

So I have made the decision to retire certain persona for good out of new found understanding and respect.

I’ve read some funny things about dating mid life recently, I guess I was curious taking into account my shenanigans over the last few years. And when I hit 50 and I saw that most of my friends had managed to find a partner and I was still without something good and solid I started to think “my god, I am going to become a crazy cat lady, alone, die alone and they will eat my bones because there will be no one around who actually gives a flying fig” cue violins…bring out the Stradivarius…

And then I snapped out of that.

I am who I am. I like what I like and do what I do (yes sometimes spontaneously and without proper thought) and dont think I should have to apologise for being me. Left of centre and currently without said felines.

I’ve been researching for a possible book or article and also to assuage my curiousness about this mid life dilemma we all seem to go through at some stage and how we interact with each other and just generally the journey of finding love at this time in our lives.

I have noticed that women my age seem to become invisible to men on dating sites who even though they themselves are galloping towards 60 seem to list their preferred partners age at a minimum of 10-15 years younger so in essence their search will exclude attractive and intelligent women like me (LOL) who don’t look or act their age (well I do sometimes!)  ie many mid 50’s men are looking for women in their 30’s or even early 40’s may be considered and won’t even look at someone their own age unless they have a mommy complex where they do look for someone slightly older because they need a ‘nurse with a purse’.

I am here to tell you, unless you have wads of cash in your wallet and are able to sustain a hard on you boys will rarely get a look insee! I see the sheer numbers of hopefuls who state they are a ‘young’ 55 par example. But I sincerely wish you luck!  Then again paradoxically there are some young women who are looking for fatherly figures…;)

The irony is that even though many women are also overlooked and referred to as hormonal and crazy at our age (admittedly partially true) and carrying le baggage,the fact is alot of men this age are absolutely and irrevocably bat shit crazy themselves and going through their own mid life crisis often completely blind to the fact!

It’s hilarious!

It’s hilarious and frustrating. These are some slim pickings I’m afraid!

And what bamboozles me more is that I often find young men are in absolute awe of us young and vibrant looking (!!!) 50’s women and we knock them back because we don’t want to be seen as ‘cougars’ or worse yet MILFS (I bet some aging impotent middle aged male Ad exec coined that phrase trying to be a smart arse).

So the dating dilemma continues. A friend of mine said the other day and he has known me since I was in my late teens “it is going to take someone really special and different to be able to match you. You are unique”. I looked at him quizzically and didn’t know whether to thank him or hit him!  Arrrgghh. I dont have the energy for this dance at present. Well, today at least.

I spent precious time with my dear sons yesterday, my eldest seeming to struggle to stop the jerking movements that have resurfaced as the botox shots start to wear off and his tongue protruding out of his mouth stopping him from being able to talk and eat properly. (To recap; my eldest son has a rare neuro-degenerative disease N.B.I.A and it has progressed more rapidly this year sadly). There were times I thought he would jerk out of his wheelchair or tip it and some sad ignorant woman decided to pass comment on him controlling his tongue. It happens alot. Many do not understand. How could they.

But his brother and I managed to make him laugh (even that is becoming a choking risk now) with our mother-son comedy routine. Its those times that I cherish the most. Limited but they give me the greatest sense of peace.

After they left the restaurant I took myself out for a few drinks because I needed to numb the feeling that I just wanted to cry and at the same time scream ; ‘why is this happening to my boy?’ (I know we are not alone in tragedy in this world and there is worse but I cant help it).

Unfortunately, after many drinks I did find myself crying on the long train journey home and yet a lovely young man (probably my son’s age) came up to me and asked if I was OK and asked if he could give me a hug and said ‘I am here to talk to if you need to’. I was so grateful for his humanity and kindness, there is still some out there. But I was also mortified at my public display of pain. Its unusual because I usually do that in the privacy of my asylum.

I guess that is why I focus so much on love. It distracts me from the profound sense of loss I feel so deeply lately. But I need to pull myself out of it. Get on with life in the best way I can.

I think an afternoon of good music and wine is in order. Love and whitelight xx

Unbridled truth…

Credit – You Tube Yellowbeard..Brilliant!

Tonight I offloaded a tad on Facebook. But it was only the tip of the iceberg. And in my most wondrous state I felt it only right that I enunciate my complete fucked offness with absolutely everything. Yes, could be construed as negative but sometimes speaking your mind is very cathartic. And sometimes, it just needs to be said.

After watching the debacle..I mean the debate with Chump I mean Trump and Hillary and wondering how one of the worlds most influential and powerful countries could allow an idiot like Trump to get as far as he has…or even be considered in the race I was gobsmacked.

I then decided I needed to get out of the house and my little self created asylum so I went to the casino…ohhh dear..

I was marched out of the Casino (Crown Perth) tonight (apparently I had imbibed a tad too much! No more than usual in my estimation but a young 20 something (!) seemed to know better and thought that my wonderful exuberance was far too much for that little black duck). Oh yeee of little personality. I can;t help that I am slightly theatrical, musical by nature…

Why was I there you ask? Yes, true I rarely go out these days lately. But, unfortunately in this one horse town a person of my age has really nowhere else to go, particularly when you dont have friends, as such (years of living elsewhere and also having an unwell child that although people would say “oh dear that’s no good” no one really gave a flying fig or bothered to ask you to join them or came to see you. Or maybe I was just too darned exuberant for their liking!!), really here in this town if you dont have much to offer you are persona non grata; you need to drive this car, live in this area, work in an acceptable job/career, earn a reasonable amount of money or be perceived to. hang out with the right people etc etc. Or else you hang around with the feral element who take drugs and drink copiously and crack you in the face without reason (tried that, doesn’t work for me somehow!). There is no in between.

Basically, I was worthy of attention tonight…Quel excitement!. Now this is not someone who dresses dowdily or looks completely like the locals do. I dress with certain pride and even if I say so myself look quite spiffy most of the time (I do wear Armani jeans par example or Ralph Lauren or many other wonderful labels albeit casual because in this shithole of a town there is nothing to dress up for and most of the locals would not recognise Armani if it hit them in the face!)!! And being quite practiced at inebriation lately it takes a hell of a lot for me to do as Yellowbeard does ie: https://youtu.be/iAbou95lCd4…ie Stagger, stagger, crawl crawl..stagger…crawl…ooops

And I didn’t..stagger etc. As I said. I quite hold my equilibrium well.

But I have to say, I found it hard today, yet again to reconcile why the bloody hell I am still living in this bastard of a place of no work, no personality or soul, unjustifiably high cost of living, stupendous lack of decent transport system and general ferality and classlessness. This is the one of most isolated cities in the world, very beautiful coast and pretty city, but no soul, no vibe, no….rhythm or prospects.

And then I had to to pull myself up by the bootstraps and say; you are here for your sons, even though early 20’s now, my eldest is very unwell and I can’t in all good faith leave him. So I stay in purgatory.

I had a great chat with Yank 2 earlier this week, another marathon and wonderful laughs and cerebral chat about the cosmos, life and everything in between. God I could imagine us being two oldies on the porch asking about the hole in the bucket dear Henry dear Henry..

But what I have been fighting is this constant thing in my head the last few days. That…man..the italian, the not so good one, for some reason keeps popping into my head at times and I keep saying NO..every time his name pops into my head but it keeps appearing here and there and even though I am completely fecked off with him and really cant see the point I cant seem to stop the ruminating about him. Sometimes, I think about the good times we had..what little there was but it was good and wonder how we got to where we got to..angry and hating each other. And. The end. Full stop.

Why does our brain make a mockery of the truth and only bring up mostly the good things over time and force us to ignore the bad…when there were feelings involved with a person.

Its not as bad as Narcissistic Yank 1, Joe or ‘him’ in the life beyond him, and that took me nearly 2 years to get over. But I am coming to realise I did ‘feel’ something for him. I guess that will fade in time, I thought it had but for dome darned reason this week…I guess..like Joe..time will help it to properly fade into nothing.

I am completely fascinated with the mind, the brain, our thought processes. And love and relationships. Right when you think you have wisdom and experience something happens and you realise you really know nothing at all.

I know I did not look at anyone this afternoon whilst out and that is not like me, I at least look. My roving eye is cured for now. I dont have the energy for it.

Maybe as Yank 2 said to me once “if you can find yourself an island of content, not one permanently cut off from others, we need others, but have that island at least, there is peace in that”. God I love his poetic soul! And he is right.

Now coming out of the black I need to find that island. Need to do things that feed my soul.

Right now I need to sleep…its 12.30am… later

Love and whitelight xxx

Good old mother England;)…no thanks frat boy…

Feels good to wake up with a smile on my face for  change. These past weeks have been a bit of a loss and dark in a number of ways but finally the sun has risen. Hate to wax philosophical and sometimes when things seem hopeless, to hear someone say ‘this too shall pass’…well you just want to say ‘what the hell would you know?!’

The Doctor formally diagnosed me with depression again even though I was fighting that label and in all honesty in my own head it did not seem to be so severe this time or so I thought but I have spent many days in bed, in foetal position, crying and feeling numb and then the days I was up and  semi functioning my thoughts were always with an edge of darkness. Found it very hard to be positive about anything.

But I handled things differently this time culminating in some bad decisions like going to that idiots house last weekend and getting hit in the face and the ‘not so good one’ carrying on like a banshee on the phone (weak sod) and calling it quits. Turns out it was the best thing because I am completely over him, his weakness was very off putting and managed to kill what little feeling I had left for him.  He was definitely not partner material…one flew over the cuckoo’s nest there! But I wish all of them a good life. When you let go it is never good to harbour hatred. You let go with love and light.

I didn’t chat with Yank 2 this past week, I didn’t want him to see my face as it was (now healed) and even though he said we could play it by ear I just couldn’t bring myself to. Wasn’t up to it. But I did miss our skype chat and am looking forward to this week

because talking to him always takes me on a splendid journey of the mind, philosophical and witty. I am so glad we are still friends.

Yank 3 pops up on messenger here and there for a chat. Often hilarious comments. Good to talk to also. I could never work out why the italian had such a problem with me having male friends. His own insecurities I guess. Right to the very end he protested that he just ‘wasn’t comfortable’ with it and had a particular thing about my apparent ‘thing’ for yanks. He said ‘they only tell you what you want to hear and just want to get into your pants’, well its a bit hard from such a great distance sunshine but I wouldn’t say no if they did want to…..(cue evil laughter);)

Well, he would be pleased to know I have changed nations! Yesterday I met up with a guy I had met a while ago whilst out and about. British, ex army. We had met a couple of times and struck up some wonderful conversations and the chemistry was there. We took it one step further yesterday and had a wonderful afternoon and this time I was made love to thoroughly and with some wonderful technique..my goodness ‘thank god for mother England!’, that also made me realise what I had been missing out on for a very long time. Someone who knew what they where doing and not just racing to the finish line and banging like a frat boy who thinks that porno’s are the ‘book of instructions’ in the art of sex!!

I would be judged by many. Not just males (the old double standard) but also females who would throw their hands up and say that’s just being loose. Particularly the married ones whose love lives may lead a little to be desired after so long (but I do envy those couples who have a strong, cohesive relationship with a good healthy sex life make no mistake about it, it is what I want for myself too… eventually).

But oh no, I am doing what I am able to do as a mature single woman who has every right to date and get physical if she wants to. Haters gonna hate lol…shut up you whiny bastards and get a life!

The Brit and I have no chance long term. I simply am not ready and not interested after this past couple of years of rubbish relationships and pain. And that wasn’t what it was about anyway. It was two consenting adults enjoying an adult afternoon together. End of story.

Smiley face. Very smiley face…..;)

So whats next? I have started to come out of the dark I think. Too soon to tell but it looks good right now.

I am seriously considering doing a post graduate degree in Philosophy and some writing courses. I always wanted to explore the realm of ‘the important questions’. I just wish I had done it years ago when I did my degree but instead listened to many who said ‘arts degree? Philosophy etc? You will never get a job with that’.

I have spent too many years of my life listening to others and worrying about what they think. And sadly basing my decisions around the men who were in my life at the time…elevating love above everything else…to my detriment.

Don’t get me wrong, LOVE is the thing. But real, cant do without, requited love is the thing and if you are lucky enough to have it then be grateful and hold on to it with both hands and cherish that love….

But in the meantime, for me, a good afternoon roll with a competent man is good enough. Well, at least I am smiling again!

Love and whitelight xx

 

Gutless and the not so good one

Now I know what I would look like with a good dose of lip fillers. Won’t be doing that, its not a good look.  I am finding it hard to believe what unfolded last night and today I am contemplating whether or not to stay in this one horse town where I have had nothing but sadness and pain. Leaving my sons especially my eldest is just unbearable knowing this disease has progressed as it has but my life is a mess and seems hopeless right now.

A very gutless male hit me in the face last night, and my lips are swollen and part of my face. I knew I should not have responded to his constant badgering me to catch up and ‘party’ but by late yesterday and feeling sad about what transpired with ‘formerly known as the good one’ during the week and feeling lonely I caved in and went. Stupid move.

His son was being pummeled by a so called ‘mate’ in the front yard (yes grown ups apparently) and I intervened to try stop it, someone called the police in the meantime and then when I went back inside after they had arrived drunk Chevvy guy walked up and cracked me in the face for no reason. Only thing I can think of is that he did not want me talking to the police. The police saw my fat lip and face asked me if I wanted to press charges but I was too much in shock and so they continued on and eventually took me home in the back of a paddy van, treating me like a common criminal. It all unfolded so fast I am still trying to work out why that gutless bastard hit me. But hit me he did, I just wish I had the good sense to punch him back, I would usually irrespective of him being 6’2 ft tall and a bikie looking character. Not advisable I know but I have never not fought back in my life…last night I didn’t.

Then after texting ‘the good one’ (formerly) he called me back and I explained what happened and he seemed to just get angrier and angrier but not at the man that hit me, no sir re bob he was angry at me; for going out with another man, talking to the yank (2) again and so much more that my head spun but ultimately the lack of compassion and care was blinding and I finally realised that he too may be a form of narcissist and that he never really gave a damn in the true sense of the word. I was just there for when he felt like it it seemed.

During the week I had discovered that I had not properly removed the block on my phone of his number from the previous week and his texts had not been coming through. I had thought he had simply decided it was over and until I had discovered the texts I was fine with that. But I saw in his responses that he was somehow strangely more involved than he let on, he seemed to be very perturbed that I was seeing other people (even though we had called time and he had pretty much made no effort to see me recently) and particularly not happy that I had reconnected with Yank 2 and was skyping him regularly again as friends. He did not seem to believe we were just friends and was very annoyed that I had any male ‘friends’ at all. Pretty much told me women should confide in their women friends only which is what I do from time to time but I have male friends too and he told me ‘he was not comfortable with that’. Things were always on his terms.

It was a weird kind of time with him. The hot and cold, the not wanting to commit yet not being happy that I see other people and always finding fault with something. But last night was the final straw, he was so angry, we both swore at each other although he said I swore at him only and he hung up on me and basically told me to never call again. Seriously, there was shades of Joe’s moves in that man. I wonder if it is an italian male thing. But I realised finally that I could not be with a man who didn’t have the care or strength to be a man in all the proper ways and for him to turn what happened to me around when I felt most vulnerable and use it as a cowards way to disconnect…unforgivable and sad. I dont think I ever really knew him at all.

Two down. Never again.

So here I sit nursing my wounded face and pride. Tired, beaten in so many ways. I can’t skype my friend in Chicago tomorrow I dont want him to see my face like this although I know I would get more support from him than I ever had from the italian.

I can’t seem to pick good men as far as the relationship kind goes, I don’t seem to be able to read them properly. Are there any real good ones out there? The upside in all this is that I have no feelings left whatsoever for Yank 1/Joe. He haunted me for a long time. But no more.

I am not sure what to do now with anything. I fought to not spiral into a bad depression this last month or so, not in the best way (anaesthetising myself). A lot of the factors that lead to me feeling down again have not gone away. It has been relentless. Right now I can’t find the strength to move on and make some decisions it all seems like groundhog day and I am very tired of it all.

Universe, I have had enough, I need your help…..please

The Fat lady is singing…

How can it be 4 seasons in one day? Oh believe me, in my world it is entirely possible. I feel a tad like Carrie Bradshaw, no not intentionally for attention grab but because I am finally starting to get certain answers to the mystery of love and relationships after so long (although if you think you have all the answers…ohhh lorrd…). She would write about the idiosyncrasies of sex and relationships in New York and just in general.

At this moment I am absolutely shatfaced (British expression for ‘off my face’) and should not be writing. But the binge and purge continues. Things just aren’t right at present on many levels and yet there are still some surprisingly good.

The yank (2 in Chicago, on skype to me today for hours as we have over weeks now again) inspired me when he said in a pondering stare into the abyss and after I observed “my darling you seem very pondering right now?!” Lol. He said “I am thinking about giving it all up and writing”. That was unexpected because even though he is much more creative and extremely intelligent than I and I also want to just drop out and write, he is still very attached to the ethos..honest earning..on the treadmill.

‘Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself’

‘A non writing writer is a monster courting insanity’

-Franz Kafka

I said “is everything alright?” meaning can I take your temperature? ha

He was more inebriated than me (with the time difference it was the early hours of the morning in Chicago for him but he works night/am shifts so it works and keeps the schedule on his days off) and had been out in the wonderful Chicago energy. I have been there, I know.  We have the most tremendous ‘thinking’ conversations. The connect is palpable. But he seemed serious, and we discussed it and other questions of the cosmos…

He has been there, over this tough time. Could have ran again but he didn’t. I appreciate the friendship, but its more than that. And he came back.

And then there is the Yank 3, whom I have spoken with every day since we reconnected. He is funny, and interesting and as we started to reconnect I realised that there was a nice energy between us. At a strange time he has been there too. And he came back. I am glad. He has managed to take my mind away from…all of it..mostly.

And the Chevy guy from past. We spent a bit of time together in the last fortnight, as friends but just partying and getting over our issues. He nearly lost his business recently in this ridiculous melee that is our economy here in Perth. He messages regularly, and again tonight when I apologised that last night I didn’t respond because I had seriously cried myself to sleep

Not about the good one..the Italian’, there are things worse at the moment although having feelings for him he has been exhausting and emotionally draining (because he is hot, cold and often far self interested) Chevy guy as said “I did too funnily enough” Cry and fall asleep last night (this guy is 6’2 and looks like a bikie!!) although he is actually a sensitive soul.

But the “Good one” has haunted me on and off this last week or so and I still don’t understand why considering, he re engaged and then disengaged again. That seemingly endless cycle and I felt our connect had finally seemed to dissipate but it was hard and sad because he was tangible. He was here, in this country, and semi present and at times it felt real. But I came to realise that he had never really called over my difficult time to say ‘are you OK?’. How is your son going?’ and times we spent together were always squashed between his time, when it was convenient. Not because he really wanted to see me. Took me a while to accept that.

It is only after you start to wake up and the emotions turn from love to disappointment and reality that you recognise what a profound waste of time it all was.

Much earlier this afternoon I started on Cosmopolitans and progressed thereafter, wines and …..

At this moment I dont give a flying feck who reads this. I know that public is public. And no one should ever assume the extent of one’s troubles.

Part of the descent of my ‘relationship’ with “the good one” was that he started to read my blog. Read, not understand, and respond. “just read your blog, dont call me again”. “you seem to have enough guys to go on with””did you sleep with him?” yada yada.

My response although I didn’t say it, was; you don’t want me but its not OK for me to get on with my life.

I messaged him tonight, no courtesy to respond. It is sad but I accept it.

I know people come into our life for whatever time and reason. I am just unsure why he was ever there…sex? Is that all? Over the time we spent together?. That seems so crass and yet so common.

Finally the fat lady is singing. Its time on a waste of time it seems.

And yet, there is in endings new beginnings….

Love and whitelight xxx