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

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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