Neurotic Ramblings

Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

If you don’t feel like reading another depressing, self-centered, woe-is-me blog, then turn away now.  It ain’t gonna be pretty.

I have a notepad full of tiny little tidbits that I have been wanting to blog about.  Today is not the day for them.

People keep asking me what’s wrong.  Someone actually asked me if I was depressed today.  And I don’t even know what to say to that. 

I mean, I haven’t been getting enough sleep, but I’ve been trying to eat right by avoiding salty foods and cokes and I’m not drinking anywhere nearly as much as I had been last year.  But I feel…odd.  Like, this weird feeling that I can’t explain where you know something’s not right but yet you’re not in excrutiating pain or discomfort so it’s hard to pinpoint what it is.  All I know is it sucks to feel like this.

I’m starting to see some people for who they really are, and it’s not who I thought they were.  Not even close.  It’s sad and it hurts and it’s kind of like, “fuck, I thought I was getting better at this judging character thing”, but nope.  Apparently not.

Everything is annoying me lately.  I read some fb updates, some tweets, and I just want to tell them to shut the fuck up and get over themselves because they’re really pathetic, and others I just want to delete completely, but I can’t because they’re people I’m close to.  And as much as I try to see the good attributes I still sit there and wonder why the hell I’m friends with these people to begin with.

I’m becoming vicious.  Mean spirited, even.  It sucks.  Mainly because I had put that behavior behind me and it took me years to do that.  There was a point in my life when I would have cut a certain bitch, regardless of what the outcome would have been, and not thought twice about it.  I didn’t like being like that and I’m trying not to become that again.

But see, the thing is I’m in a place where there’s no turning back.  I’ve fallen.  I can try to detach, but the outcome will be the same because I’ll still be miserable. 

So I think the only thing to do now is go back to the point where it was all about me and fuck anyone else, but not too far back to where I actually feel anything towards anyone.

I need to be healthy for me.  I need to be happy for me.  I need to do what’s right FOR ME.

I’m not sure where I got back to the point of putting someone else before me.  But if I could go back to that point knowing that this is what I was getting out of it, I’d bitch slap myself. 

The other thing that bugs me right now is people assuming that I’m sad-ish about Valentine’s Day coming up and me being single.  Um, how about NO.  I’ve been alone for the past five years on V day and it’s not a big deal.  I don’t get flowers or candy or jewlry or anything of the sorts, but I also don’t have to deal with the bullshit that men bring to equation.  Seems like a fair trade.

I’m actually looking forward to Sunday.  I have the day planned out.  I’m making breakfast for the kiddos, doing some shopping, watching Percy Jackson & the Olympians, taking them to lunch and then going to watch Valentine’s Day by myself.  The day will end with a bottle of wine and a toast.  A toast to the fact that while I may be a bit down, I have everything I need to make myself happy.

How will YOU be spending your Valentine’s Day?

Ha, what a difference a day makes! 

The original title of this post was: This blog is brought to you by the letter B and the number P as in Pinot Grigio.

Partly (mostly), because I was blitzed on some when I wrote it, and then somehow forgot to post it.   Read on…

I want to bare my soul right now, but I can’t.

What the hell do you do when your moral core contradicts your heart?  When you see the fairy tale ending, but you’re the Wicked Witch of the West in the story?

Am I expecting a house to fall on me any minute now?  Absofuckinglutely.  Do I want to do anything about it?   Ansofuckinglutely NOT.

Why am I not allowed to be happy?  I’ve thought this many times over the past few days as this little line plays in my head: “My happiness is more important to me than yours”.  While it’s a bitch ass thing to say, it’s nothing but the truth.

Shit, who’s gonna worry about me and my feelings and my heart and my life if not myself?  That’s right, a whole lotta no one.

So to those of you who feel the need to run your mouth and talk your shit, I say this:  Keep talking, bitches,  you have no life.  Kiss my fucking sweet ass.  =)  ahahaha, you wish you fking could.

/drunken/dramatic rambles.

So, most of the sentiment remains the same: “You don’t like me?  Kiss my ass!”  I’ma do me & you can do you. 

But oh, fuck!  I let my feelings get the best of me.  This includes anger and irrantional…impatience.  Or something of the sorts. 

Anyfuckingway…I’ve neglected this place long enough.  Partly because of time constraints, mostly because I’m conscious about who reads it.  But then, I read this awesome post by Shine over at http://www.ishineoutloud.com/shine/  Go ahead, click the link!!!  (I know only like, three people read this blog and all, but two of you really need to read her last particular blog because she said everything I needed to say just so much better and the third one of you needs to go read her posts because she’s full of awesome). 

So now that you’re back, know that if you stumble on here and read something that hurts your feelings or you take personally or just puts your panties all in a twist, too fucking bad.

I’m me.  The same spazzy, foul-mouthed, emotional, insensitive, selfish, narcissitic drama queen you know and love.  You can like me or love me; you can try to hate me; but I’ma be me.

Besitos

I’m <this> close to throwing in the towel.  I’ve had it.

I can’t even find the words to properly describe my frustration with my life lately.  I want help.  I want my kids’ dad to fking step up and take care of shit.  Take the kids away from me every once in a while.  I can’t do this.  I’m losing my g-d mind.  Homework, projects, daycare, clothes, meals, mommy, mommy, mommy.  It’s never ending.  Yes, I’m frustrated.  And fk whoever thinks I’m a weaker person for admitting it.  I WILL get through this and I WILL come out shining and the project WILL be kick ass and I’ll figure out my finances, but DAMNIT, I can rant about it in the process because getting it out is the only thing that will keep me sane.

I’m walking out of the library, frustrated because it’s late, it’s cold, it’s raining and I don’t have cash to pay for the print-outs and they don’t take debit cards.  The circles under my eyes are big and dark because I’ve stayed up late the past few couple of days.  I’m exhausted and it shows.  I looked cute all day, but at that moment when I’m walking out, I feel the hell of the last couple of days weighing me down.  And who do I see as I’m walking out?  Of course it’s him and his girlfriend.  Looking as merry as ever, with NO FKING KIDS.   No, her kids are who knows where and he can’t take care of his/mine because of some lame ass excuse or another.  WHY???

A great friend of mine hit me with reality this morning.  I was wondering to myself, and to him on gchat as well I suppose, “Why would a guy NOT want to date me?”  Yes, it was a moment of self-absorption, but my friend was quick to burst it.  You have BAGGAGE.  An ex who isn’t worth the air that he breathes, no degree, and two kids.  It will take a strong man to want to take on raising two kids that aren’t his.  SAY WHA?!  I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.  Maybe because I’m not looking for a baby daddy replacement, or a husband, or anything more than a companion at this point.  My kids don’t need a dad.  They have one.  And financial matters aside, a great one at that.  Yes, contradiction is my strong point.  But fuck.  I’m tired of being lonely.  I’m tired of not having someone there to share MY life with.  Maybe not every aspect, but most of it.

-Maybe- I need to stay away from emotionally unavailable men.  Maybe I need to stay away from men altogether.  But c’mon, how many times have you heard me say that???

But this is what I do.  I let everything build up, get frustrated as fuck, let it all out, and then everything is right again.  This is how I manage to function.  It’s a scary thought.  All my breakdowns are neatly chronicled in a web page accessible for the world to see.  But at the same time, it’s a bit freeing.  Maybe, I just need to write more.

And thank you to the person who inspired the title to this post.  I hope my crazy streak hasn’t scared you off too much.

It happened again today.  I just had to look at his profile.  I didn’t want to.  I knew I shouldn’t.  I knew it was a bad idea.

But there it was, staring me in the face.  A pic of him and a chick.  A weird looking chick, but a chick nonetheless.

The guy who complained that I didn’t post pictures of us.  The guy who complained that I didn’t text him enough or call him enough.  The guy that I wasn’t good enough for.  The guy who said things that gave me hope.  The guy who strung me along.

There he was, smiling, with his arm around another girl.

The picture burned me more than I care to admit.

Yeah, it’s been more than a few months since he cut the cords that day that I finally gave in to his question…”tell me what you want”  …”I want you…to be with you”  those words tore down whatever it was that I had built up in my head.  Those words that I regret ever  saying because maybe, just maybe, he’d still be here if I hadn’t said them.

But now here I am, alone and trying to type through tear-filled eyes.

It’s not fair.  I don’t want to feel like this.

I didn’t ask for this.  It was just supposed to be a stupid crush, nothing more.

And I looked for ways to forget him in places I shouldn’t have gone.   And those regrets pile on top of the pain that I feel when I think of him and it’s just.not.fair.

It was never anything more than what it was.  A “whatever it is”.  And now it’s not and I want it back and he won’t ever know.

Not fully awake.  Barely focused.  Hungry as hell. 
Yeah, that’s me.
I went to bed early last night.  Out cold by 11 pm only to be awakened at 1 am by anxiety that stemmed from nowhere.
Still, I would say I got a great night’s sleep.
So why are these dark circles under my eyes?  Why does my brain feel only half wired?
Well, if I knew the answer you best believe I’d change it because dark circles on my light complexion do not a good look make.
 
I’ve been thinking lately, and it’s probably not a good thing.  Ha.  Anywhoozle.  This whole “timing” thing really blows. 
“The timing is off”
“We should have met a year ago”
“Our timing always sucks”
 
Bull.shit.  How about this:  It will never be the “right time”; perfect timing doesn’t happen.  You work with what you’ve got and you enjoy it till it’s gone. 
If someone doesn’t make time for you, then they’re not worth your time. 
End of story.
 
I refuse to put myself in another situation with a time frame. 
I know inevitably all realtionships come with an unspoken time frame, but when you know the limit on yours, it’s time to move on.
 
I feel like I’m at a crossroads in my life.  I have a friend who is aching so badly to settle down.  She wants a husband and house and the whole nine yards and she wants it now. 
 
I don’t.  I’m not looking for the person who I’m going to “spend the rest of my life with” which is a concept I dont’ believe in anyway.  I’m 23, sure I have kids, but I have my whole life ahead of me. 

I’m enjoying this part of my life where I have to respond to no one.  Dating is apparently out of the question because, well, the timing is always off!  LMAO.  Excuse me while I laugh at that. 
I guess there’s something about knowing that every person you get involved with will eventually piss you off or you them and whatever was going on will spontaneously combust.  But that’s also a good thing. 

I don’t to have to worry about the “where is this going?” and the “will this eventually lead to a serious thing” type questions.  All I want to know is that someone cares enough and finds me awesome enough to want to hang out with me.  That someone respects me enough to tell me when they’re ready to move on.  Someone who can be comfortable with seeing me exclusively even though I can’t devote more than 10% of my time to them. 

I don’t know. I’ve done the marriage thing and while the situation wasn’t perfect, the concept was the same.  I’d rather not go through that again. 
You want eggs and pancakes in the morning?  You get your ass up and make them yourself.  Oh, and pick up your damn socks!  You’re not a molting snake, damnit!!!  (ha, constant arguments, child on the side and the one thing I choose to complain about is the socks? you gotta love me!!!)

 
So no, I don’t believe in this whole perfect timing bullshit.  People are always busy these days and you’ve gotta work with what you’ve got.  I, apparently, seem to attract or be attracted to (can’t decide on this yet) the guys who are ready to leave this place.  Move on to bigger and better things.  I’m taking that as a good thing for now because I’ll take one of those guys over one that sees no problem with living in Brownsville for the rest of their lives anyday.  I’ve got to respect ambition. 

But I will admit that it fucking sucks.  You meet someone you’re attracted to and they say all the right things, do all the right things, and you start liking them more and more everyday and them bam!  They’re moving.  And then comes the whole “this sucks, I hate it, you’re amazing, blah blah blah….” conversation that I’d really rather not have because it doesn’t serve a purpose.  I already know I’m amazing, you don’t need to tell me.  Yes, it does sucks, but you’re bettering yourself and you’re saying what you’re saying for my sake and I don’t apreciate it very much.  I’m leaving this place too; I’m just on a different time frame. 

The smell hit her as soon as she entered the room; stale cigarettes and cheap beer were staples in his life as of late.  He sat on the couch going through his phone, not exactly sure what he was looking for.

The latest one had left him and there they were again, ten years later, in the same situation.  They spoke not a word.  They didn’t have to.  Over the years of arguing and screaming and using words as their poison of choice they had learned that peace and love was kept best in silence.

He noticed her shortly after she had walked in.  Her presence had always commanded attention in the most subtle of ways.  His gaze fixed on her and for all the relief and gratefulness he felt, he couldn’t even bring himself to smile, but his eyes said it all.  They always had.

They walked down the hallway towards her car.  She had made him clean himself up a bit before walking out the door.  That was one of the things she missed the most about him.  His arrogance and pride had always kept looking him clean. 

He was broken now.  He was broken and she couldn’t fix him. Not this time.  No, this time it was different.  He had given himself in.  Given up the others who gave him what he wanted, the ones who took care of him and supported his lifestyle.  The ones who could pick him up from this mess financially.  Now they were gone and so was the one he ran them all off for.

The one he never gave up sat next to him now, comforting him like only she knew how.  They had put each other through hell.  They had been through it all and to this day remained the only constant in each other’s lives. 

He was there through her bad decisions and she was there through his self-destruction phases.  As sick as it was, they had once both found delight in the other’s pain.  But as the years passed by and they grew further away from the destructive and painful past they once shared, they had come to learn to appreciate and value one another.

It was always understood from the moment their paths crossed again that nothing could ever come from that fateful meeting other than a twisted quid pro quo friendship.  Sure, the sexual tension was always there.  But they knew entirely too much about one another and that knowledge crushed whatever desires attempted to build up inside them.  This was nothing more than two people who had bared their souls and put their pride on the line in an effort to have what everyone longs for.  A soul mate. 

You see, to them a soul mate wasn’t in the form of a relationship linked partner.  No, a soul mate was one who knew them inside and out, the good and the bad, the pure and the evil.  One who knew how to heal wounds with a look and an embrace without judgment spoken, although it was constantly there.  They were soul mates, walking the earth in search of something they knew didn’t exist, but incessantly looking for it either way.

It was this mutual understanding that allowed them to remain functional human beings…

The differences between being a gold-digger and a pampered princess:
A gold-digger is with you because of your assets.  All she is interested in is what materialistic stuff you can give her.

A pampered princess actually likes you for you.  The gifts and dinners and dates and nice things you do for her are icing on top of the cake; they’re part of why she likes you, but not the main reason.

 
A gold-digger expects you to pay.  She has it in her head that it’s your job and that’s about all you’re good for when you’re with her.  If you can’t cover the bill, it seems you’re going to end up washing dishes because she can’t even cover her half.

A pampered princess assumes you’re going to pay since you invited her out, after all, and it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.  She, however, is prepared to foot the bill in case you turn out to be a cheapskate and fiddle with the bill a bit too long implying that either a) you expect her to cover her order or b) you ordered the most expensive meal on the plate and now you want to split it down the middle or the worst of the worst: c) you expect her to cover all of the bill because you picked up the check at McDonalds last time you took her out. 

 
A gold-digger will only hang out with you when you’re looking your best, decked out in your gear and taking her out.  She likes to show you off when you’re flashing your card and showing the world that you spoil her and pay for everything.

A pampered princess likes hanging out with you on a Sunday morning, chillin in pj’s, eating cereal while watching tv.  She likes to show you off both when you’re in your broken-in jeans, t-shirt and sandals or dressed to the 9s and ready to take her out. 

 
I feel like I’m putting way too much thought into this and trying to justify myself.  I want to be spoiled.  I want to be pampered.  I want to be taken care of every once in a while. 

Yes, I love being independent.  I take pride in it.  I want to be able to say I got this for myself and I don’t need anyone to help me get it.  But every once in a while it’s nice to hear, “no, I got this, you deserve it”.  It’s nice to be able to indulge in a luxury without worrying about how it will affect next month’s bills.  No, I’m not saying I expect this 24/7.  Heaven knows I’ve put in more than my fair share of supporting someone, no questions asked.  I have no problem footing the bill every other time.  It’s only fair.  But when I’m made to feel guilty for being taken somewhere, and it’s always by subtleties like a snide comment or a hesitation when the bill arrives, that pisses me the fuck off.  How about you don’t invite me out?  Or if you can’t afford to hang out that night then opt out.  I pay for my friends when I know they’re down and I do it because they’d do the same for me and because I know they won’t take advantage and order the most expensive thing they see, or keep a tab on how many more drinks I’ve had than them, or eat off my plate or my friend’s plate and embarrass the fuck out of me. 

I hate feeling guilty for thinking this way.  I feel hypocritical to think that women deserve the same rights and respect that men get, but still want to be treated like a lady by their guy.  Men have twisted the concept of feminism and liberal women into a web that benefits them.  Since women want to feel powerful and assume “male roles” then they should be able to assume the same roles in the dating world.  Sorry, but no.  If I’m guilty of faulty logic, then so be it.  I’m tired of cheap asses and embarrassment.    I’m tired of saying “don’t worry about it…”  I want to be spoiled.  I want to be pampered.  And I want to feel like I’m worth it.  Not like you’re going out of your way to spoil me only so you can rub it in my face later and tell me about how broke you are now because of that one fucking time you actually did something for me.

Being spoiled is not a bad a thing.  Wanting to be spoiled doesn’t make someone shallow.
Expecting someone to take care of you when you have nothing more to offer than your looks is gold-digging. 

Knowing your worth, being able to offer intellect, looks, wit and good company and allowing yourself to be pampered every now and then is every woman’s right. 

 
What do you think, ladies?  Am I right on point or way off base on this one? 

Guys, am I asking for too much?  What do you expect from a girl when you’re taking her out on a date?  What about if you’ve been in a relationship for a while, do expectations change?

 
*Oh, and please note that this was written a long while back and in no way reflects my current situation.  I’ve been happily single and supporting no one’s habits but my own recently with a smile on my face and a pep in my step.*

I am getting this out before it boils enough and spills out in the form of spoken word.
Fuck this shit. I’m done.
I deserve better. I want better.

It’s so simple to fall into a casual lay. To be honest, I don’t have the time or energy to invest in meeting new people. I just don’t. This was convenient. It was easy. It was fun.

But, I’m also a woman. Which means that I’m programmed to inevitably get attached. Even though I don’t want to. Even though I know it won’t work. Even though I know I’ll get hurt.

I just didn’t think I was going to be this moody about it. Like, seriously. One minute I’m all about the casual, not so many strings attached whathaveyous and then the next I’m clingy and insecure and demanding immediate attention. What the hell? Maybe it has a bit to do with the all the cuddling and babying and “I wish it were more even though I know it can’t be” that I keep getting. But, I’m also getting the brush off, the asshole attitude, and fuck, my heart is racing just typing about this. It pisses me the fuck off. Why does he have to be such an asshole?! Can I have the past three months back, please?

It always starts smoothly, no? Dinner, movies, good conversation, just hanging out and some sex every now and then. There is effort on the other party’s side to make plans and see you, to call, to text. And then bam, next thing you know all that has faded and been replaced with a string of “what are you doing tonight?” that no longer means you’re getting taken out on a date, it means you’re getting lucky. And for a while that’s all cool and shit, because honestly, who has the time to be going on dates all the time? For someone who has their calendar full for the next two months with things kid and work related, this should work out perfectly. You have great sex and get on with your life. Had the whole thing started off as an FB kind of thing, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…

But it’s the fact that it turned into that that pisses me off.

I know why it happened. I know it’s my fault. I should have never been this available. I shouldn’t have payed that much attention. I shouldn’t have tried to make it something it wasn’t.
I knew what the outcome would be. And I’ve typed this out before yet still go back to him because falling back into an already existing sexual relationship is easier, more convenient, and safer than going out and having to establish some sort of connection with someone, wait as long as it takes to feel comfortable and make sure they’re not pervs/psychos/weirdos before actually thinking about sleeping with them. Not to mention the fact that as much as I talk about sex, my libido is close to non-existant lately. I kind of just crave a warm body lying next to me.

I don’t get it. I’m confused and I really don’t know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is this sucks and I hate reacting like this. I feel like a silly school girl with a crush. I’m stronger than this. I don’t play games, I don’t put guys through tests, I am moody, but not to the extreme that it has been getting to lately. I know I can’t say one thing and mean another or expect someone to read my mind, yet I still do it.

I don’t like the person that this is turning me into. I don’t like feeling vulnerable. It makes me feel like I’m falling, literally. I get goosebumps and chills and I can feel my body plummeting down as if I just jumped off a building. I feel exposed.

So fuck that. I deserve better. I want better and I’m done settling.

Stage 1 was knowing it was something, yet refusing to admit it because that would mean putting the shield down and acknowledging that the potential of getting hurt was there.

Stage 2 was analyzing. Anything and everything that was said, done, texted, emailed, acted out, facially expressed, gestured, etc…was played out in my head a billion times and the possibilities of what it could have meant were made into mental lists with possible outcomes and causes. Every text message sent, every phone call made on my part were thoroughly examined and thought out before being carried out. Make sure you don’t sound to eager/clingy/available but at the same time don’t sound standoffish/rude/unavailable.

Stage 3 is mental bubbles. They resemble pop-up ads in their random content and unpredictable timing. I might be watching tv and I get a “romantic flick advertisement” bubble which will cause my face to contort into a state of frustration/stress/confusion and utter out the dreaded “I miss…” phrase. I might be at work working on a report and “triple xxx movies – get yours now” decides to creep up and take over my mind before I can click the little red x at the top. And then it’s the “call…wait, don’t, text instead…but not yet, it’s too early…oooo, happy pills half off!…ok, just wait for a call/text and then go from there…but you said you would call, then maybe you shoudl so you’re not a flake and oh…fuckmylife I’m back at stage 2…someone gimme a minderaser…”

Confused yet? Bored? Freaked out? Thinking how stupid and exhausting this process is? Yeah, me too. I just want to get to Stage 4: Letting go.

Stage 4 never gets fully reached though because while I may let go and call whenever I feel like it without thinking twice and stop thinking about what that sweet message actually meant, I will be holding on to the fact that in less than three months it will all be over. Yeah. Unavoidable. But I knew. And I chose to let go anyway. And you know what, it feels great.

Stage 1 was knowing it was something, yet refusing to admit it because that would mean putting the shield down and acknowledging that the potential of getting hurt was there.

Stage 2 was analyzing. Anything and everything that was said, done, texted, emailed, acted out, facially expressed, gestured, etc…was played out in my head a billion times and the possibilities of what it could have meant were made into mental lists with possible outcomes and causes. Every text message sent, every phone call made on my part were thoroughly examined and thought out before being carried out. Make sure you don’t sound to eager/clingy/available but at the same time don’t sound standoffish/rude/unavailable.

Stage 3 is mental bubbles. They resemble pop-up ads in their random content and unpredictable timing. I might be watching tv and I get a “romantic flick advertisement” bubble which will cause my face to contort into a state of frustration/stress/confusion and utter out the dreaded “I miss…” phrase. I might be at work working on a report and “triple xxx movies – get yours now” decides to creep up and take over my mind before I can click the little red x at the top. And then it’s the “call…wait, don’t, text instead…but not yet, it’s too early…oooo, happy pills half off!…ok, just wait for a call/text and then go from there…but you said you would call, then maybe you shoudl so you’re not a flake and oh…fuckmylife I’m back at stage 2…someone gimme a minderaser…”

Confused yet? Bored? Freaked out? Thinking how stupid and exhausting this process is? Yeah, me too. I just want to get to Stage 4: Letting go.

Stage 4 never gets fully reached though because while I may let go and call whenever I feel like it without thinking twice and stop thinking about what that sweet message actually meant, I will be holding on to the fact that in less than three months it will all be over. Yeah. Unavoidable. But I knew. And I chose to let go anyway. And you know what, it feels great.