So this is the deal. I could walk blearily through a storm, my hood pulled over my head, freezing out the cold, my scarf securely intact. I could do this alone. Or, maybe, just maybe, I could enlist the help of a friend, who would hold my hand, make it warm, sit with me side-by-side on a train as the cold is blocked out without so much of an effort. Why is it that when you look at things this way, it seems clearer than day?
And so the past two days went, and I found an ally in someone from my past, a time that took me back to when the abuse all started, but someone who gave me a respite from the trauma that exists. And nether of us had any idea our worlds would collide, and they we are coexisting, and supporting each other with tender, tough words, and love. And that is exactly what happened.
First of all, this began a few weeks back when I started seeing my new therapist. He told me that if I told him the name of someone who had molested me, and that person still had contact with children, he would have to report it. Most of you who read this saw the blog I wrote. But then, an amazing, unexpected course of events happened. My friend J. contacted me and asked me if that same teacher was teaching at the high school I attended and what his name was. She has a daughter there. And so I told her the story, and gave her the name(s), and we started chatting. And then her husband said that the same vile, the same that had attacked me, also had meant him feel uncomfortable, though nothing so traumatic occurred. And so the conversation went back and forth until we located a possible suspect in Ohio that was incarcerated, who looked like him, and had a birthday close to his. So she showed her husband. And I sat there as my chest pounded, beating like a locomotive, and my mouth went dry, and I thought about karma. And justice, not really for me, because what has happened is beyond the statue of limitations. But, for all those abused afterward, because child offenders never really stop unless caught, I thought maybe I could do something, anything. And then I tried to sleep, fidgeted sleep, and awoke tired, but not as tired as before.
I checked my email that morning, and was surprised to learn that J.'s husband had told her this is not the same man, since that man, who became a teacher, and lived across from him, could not be the man in the picture. So, I felt deflated. But lo and behold, J.'s husband did a search, and found the f**ker, and he lives in another state, has taught third grade all his life, is well respected, and his resume, along with his alias (yes, he changed his name), along with his email, home address and phone number, AND picture, were all on the website. It was then suggested that I contact him and confront him, but instead, I sent the information to my therapist, called the jurisdiction where he lives, and was advised to pursue it in the jurisdiction where I went to high school. and is there where it is. I will not contact this man, for fear that he will bolt, and leave us all in the dust freeze.
Today I have felt lighter than I have in many, many years. I know it is temporary, and strong feelings will come up again, and I will feel overwhelmed and lost, but I feel closer, closer, to a resolution. For now, can't I rest a minute and let someone else hold the reins? Let karma please exist in this world once and for all?
Much Love!
M.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
So Why Do I Write, And What Is The Story?
So, I feel a need to talk a little about what has been mostly musings as of late. Why do I write, and why should you care? I have no idea what the answer is to the second question, but I began writing for myself, and I created a MySpace page and decided to blog. That evolved into my participation in a class after about a year after talking about returning school, and then not taking action, and I had such a warm, positive experience. In fact, I am still writing with four of the same writers from that beginning class. And there were only eleven I bellieve. My writer's group has become an extension of my life, and it truly is a vassel in which I can explore topics which I never thought I could write about, and topics that were also very personal in nature. What began as a personal narrative style evolved into prose, and then poetry, much of what is fiction. You can always tell what is true in my writing, and what is fiction. If I don't clarify or qualify my writing, you can always be certain it is mainly fiction. Poetry can be tricky though, and some of it is personal. I usually do not explain my poems as far as whether or not they are actually about my life, or the lives I have created. If you know me well, you will probably know, and if you are unsure, please ask and do not assume that the narrator in the work is based on my life. This has all led into my applying and being accepted into graduate studies at San Francisco State University for Creative Writing.
As far as the story I have begun here, well the Baby Girl poems are obviously not about me. So here is one instance that I am not talking about myself, but the events around PTSD are indeed true. Now this is where I feel the need to explain. Although there is a lot of stuff going on for me, it is not all Gloomy Guss or Debbie Downer material. Those in between moments I am smiling, even laughing along with my friends or family, or something silly I just read or heard. My outgoing persona is usually pretty obvious -- I am more of a dog than I cat. I wear my feelings. But, besides the PTSD stuff, I am pretty much just living and trying to enjoy those moments with others. The pieces I have been writing about, as far as PTSD, I feel the need to talk about. Why? Well, for one, I can't be the only one dealing with post traumatic stress. But also, it is a chance for me to write creatively, and to explore feelings. I *hope* it is useful and interesting for all of you. I know it is not light reading.
So what happened? Well, and this is the part that is sad. I was molested by two seperate teachers in high school. I will not go into detail, except to say, I have written about one experience and not the other. I will also say that that it was not the only trauma. But, I hope that in my writing, I can continue to explore my feelings and learn from them, and I hope others can too. WE ARE ALL CONENCTED IN SOME WAY! So, unfortunately, the PTSD symptoms had been there quite a while under a masqued duagnosis of anxiety and some depression at times, starting out as an internal process, and then manifesting itself to the point I decided to empower myself and take control of it, which is why I decided to apply for this study. Personally, this study scares the living Hell out of me, but it is also a fascinating learning process too. So there is the back story in a nutshell, and I am sure I will talk about it again if you appreciate it!
Thanks for all of your support, and thanks for allowing me a venue to do this. You have no idea what this experience has meant to me.
As far as the story I have begun here, well the Baby Girl poems are obviously not about me. So here is one instance that I am not talking about myself, but the events around PTSD are indeed true. Now this is where I feel the need to explain. Although there is a lot of stuff going on for me, it is not all Gloomy Guss or Debbie Downer material. Those in between moments I am smiling, even laughing along with my friends or family, or something silly I just read or heard. My outgoing persona is usually pretty obvious -- I am more of a dog than I cat. I wear my feelings. But, besides the PTSD stuff, I am pretty much just living and trying to enjoy those moments with others. The pieces I have been writing about, as far as PTSD, I feel the need to talk about. Why? Well, for one, I can't be the only one dealing with post traumatic stress. But also, it is a chance for me to write creatively, and to explore feelings. I *hope* it is useful and interesting for all of you. I know it is not light reading.
So what happened? Well, and this is the part that is sad. I was molested by two seperate teachers in high school. I will not go into detail, except to say, I have written about one experience and not the other. I will also say that that it was not the only trauma. But, I hope that in my writing, I can continue to explore my feelings and learn from them, and I hope others can too. WE ARE ALL CONENCTED IN SOME WAY! So, unfortunately, the PTSD symptoms had been there quite a while under a masqued duagnosis of anxiety and some depression at times, starting out as an internal process, and then manifesting itself to the point I decided to empower myself and take control of it, which is why I decided to apply for this study. Personally, this study scares the living Hell out of me, but it is also a fascinating learning process too. So there is the back story in a nutshell, and I am sure I will talk about it again if you appreciate it!
Thanks for all of your support, and thanks for allowing me a venue to do this. You have no idea what this experience has meant to me.
What Flower Are You? Just for fun!
| I am a |
"Mischief is your middle name, but your first is friend. You are quite the prankster that loves to make other people laugh."
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Hissing
Imagine a helium filled balloon full of air, and then the pressure as you slowly release the balloon’s contents, that tension in the hiss, as air escapes, finding freedom tentative, the balloon needing the air to sustain, and yet the air panting slowly, as it finds its way to safety. Now imagine me as the balloon, and the air that escapes, the same air I breathe, as the shallowness of breaths become a slow hiss, my heart pounding harder, and my mind re-minding me that I need to slow down, breathe more deeply, take care of me, instead of the ripping tension that the shallowness creates. I glide through these internal terrains, smokes and mirrors everywhere, but when I look at my own reflection, inside, there are no lies, just a short dose of panic and reality, and a reminder that this too shall pass. It will. I swear it will.
Today was better than the previous. I thought it would be a clear one for me, but my roommate had an unexpected case of gout, a painful condition where uric acid crystalizes, causing the joints in your foot or knee to swell with painful irritation and fluid, that makes even putting on a sock sheer agony. And instead of staying within myself, I seek to comfort and nurture, because I am good at that sometimes when it comes to others, and not so good at it when I need to be gentle with me. Being gentle with me. I laugh even now. What’s that??? How do you do that? And so, I dart from m Mom’s condo, to my roommate across the city, picking up a prescription for him along the way, loaning some pain medication with strict directions on how to take it, and putting in a medicet, making him promise to call his doctor and arrange for some medication of his own. And Will, my roommate, is always a delight, always so kind and grateful. We talk. and then I run out to pick up things. What can he eat? Tomato soup, bread, bananas. What else does he need? Epsom salts (he has never heard of this), water, juice, some light reading. And then I run to my doctor to pick my own prescription to replace the one I gave to him.
And then I come back to my Mom’s condo, and for those who do not know, she is blind and can’t walk well, and again, I perform. I perform because I can. and after dinner and throughout, I watch what she wants on tv, spend time with her, because next week she goes back to Michigan, and though it will be hard to say goodbye, it will also be a partial relief. And of course, I come back to me, still panting, the hissing wearing me out. And I have not paid attention all that well, though I am getting better. Better today yes. Tomorrow is tomorrow. The nights, of course, are the worst. The fighting in my sleep to stay asleep, the feelings, the dreams, and oh well. Tomorrow is tomorrow, and though I write it all here. I have hope. I do. I have so much hope. I am still panting a little, hissing some, but I am starting to relax, and not hold my breath, and feel grateful that I can write any of this madness down at all. And tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow.
Thanks Everyone. I truly am grateful! And it must be hard for those who do not know my goofy, fun side. But it’s there. It is.
Today was better than the previous. I thought it would be a clear one for me, but my roommate had an unexpected case of gout, a painful condition where uric acid crystalizes, causing the joints in your foot or knee to swell with painful irritation and fluid, that makes even putting on a sock sheer agony. And instead of staying within myself, I seek to comfort and nurture, because I am good at that sometimes when it comes to others, and not so good at it when I need to be gentle with me. Being gentle with me. I laugh even now. What’s that??? How do you do that? And so, I dart from m Mom’s condo, to my roommate across the city, picking up a prescription for him along the way, loaning some pain medication with strict directions on how to take it, and putting in a medicet, making him promise to call his doctor and arrange for some medication of his own. And Will, my roommate, is always a delight, always so kind and grateful. We talk. and then I run out to pick up things. What can he eat? Tomato soup, bread, bananas. What else does he need? Epsom salts (he has never heard of this), water, juice, some light reading. And then I run to my doctor to pick my own prescription to replace the one I gave to him.
And then I come back to my Mom’s condo, and for those who do not know, she is blind and can’t walk well, and again, I perform. I perform because I can. and after dinner and throughout, I watch what she wants on tv, spend time with her, because next week she goes back to Michigan, and though it will be hard to say goodbye, it will also be a partial relief. And of course, I come back to me, still panting, the hissing wearing me out. And I have not paid attention all that well, though I am getting better. Better today yes. Tomorrow is tomorrow. The nights, of course, are the worst. The fighting in my sleep to stay asleep, the feelings, the dreams, and oh well. Tomorrow is tomorrow, and though I write it all here. I have hope. I do. I have so much hope. I am still panting a little, hissing some, but I am starting to relax, and not hold my breath, and feel grateful that I can write any of this madness down at all. And tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow.
Thanks Everyone. I truly am grateful! And it must be hard for those who do not know my goofy, fun side. But it’s there. It is.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Storm
The morning peeped its head out, then disappeared, angry, resentful, not smiling even the remotest of ways, instead, its tongue hanging out, teasing, begging for a different outcome. Then it was 11 a.m. And then, the sun did come out, but the breeze failed to take notice and left me chilled, if desperate. And then it warmed, and cooled again.
And so it is. And so the day was. And so did the assessment at the VA. And again, even though the intake of seven hours produced a report that seemed clear, I had to undergo more interviewing, today with a psychiatrist who would eveluate med interactions, then the trauma itself, the psych history (depression and anxiety). and then blood work, that would include me in the study, and still I was left unsure, after exploring these traumas, and explicit details, whether or not, this was/is the course to take with trauma work. I had spoken to my old therapist, who reminded me, that disassociation can come in many forms — it can be as subtle as feeling scattered or bewildered, not having your feet on the floor straight, or fidgeting, or it come in the forms of things fading out, and then, hearing, but not seeing what is said to you, instead, feeling a plethora of emotions that can run the gamut and leave you feeling weak or scared.
Well, after the evaluation, and before the blood work, I was taken back to the AA who took me to the lab. We discussed my nieces, and San Francisco, and where we were from, and I am in the elevator, and the world began spinning, and I am hearing her, unable to respond, until I come back, just seconds later, and I say, “I heard you, but I couldn’t speak. I feel faint.” And she smiles, takes my hand, and walks me across the parking lot, explaining to me that the buildings at the VA are numbered in the order they were built, and not how they were laid out across the property. I then sat with her, feeling more like myself, but also absorbed in my skin, which was beginning to feel like a leather pelt, my sweat beginning on my forehead, and my anxieties panting on the surface. I completed the bloodwork, but it took hours before I could relax without feeling like a high strung violin wire.
It took hours, but I am better now, and this just proves to me that trauma work is hard, way harder than I expected, and I just have to remind myself of that, and be gentle, and move forward, with caution, but with increasing awareness.
And so it is. And so the day was. And so did the assessment at the VA. And again, even though the intake of seven hours produced a report that seemed clear, I had to undergo more interviewing, today with a psychiatrist who would eveluate med interactions, then the trauma itself, the psych history (depression and anxiety). and then blood work, that would include me in the study, and still I was left unsure, after exploring these traumas, and explicit details, whether or not, this was/is the course to take with trauma work. I had spoken to my old therapist, who reminded me, that disassociation can come in many forms — it can be as subtle as feeling scattered or bewildered, not having your feet on the floor straight, or fidgeting, or it come in the forms of things fading out, and then, hearing, but not seeing what is said to you, instead, feeling a plethora of emotions that can run the gamut and leave you feeling weak or scared.
Well, after the evaluation, and before the blood work, I was taken back to the AA who took me to the lab. We discussed my nieces, and San Francisco, and where we were from, and I am in the elevator, and the world began spinning, and I am hearing her, unable to respond, until I come back, just seconds later, and I say, “I heard you, but I couldn’t speak. I feel faint.” And she smiles, takes my hand, and walks me across the parking lot, explaining to me that the buildings at the VA are numbered in the order they were built, and not how they were laid out across the property. I then sat with her, feeling more like myself, but also absorbed in my skin, which was beginning to feel like a leather pelt, my sweat beginning on my forehead, and my anxieties panting on the surface. I completed the bloodwork, but it took hours before I could relax without feeling like a high strung violin wire.
It took hours, but I am better now, and this just proves to me that trauma work is hard, way harder than I expected, and I just have to remind myself of that, and be gentle, and move forward, with caution, but with increasing awareness.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
The Calm Before the Storm
So, today has been overall a decent day, and I feel a little calmer. I say that, and yet on one of the message boards I frequent, I, and some of my friends, were attacked mercilessly. But, because I post regularly, these things just don’t freak me out. I guess, I know in that realm, I am respected enough and have the support of other regular board members. But, my point is, that I did not realize I was stressed or tense, until later when I was talking to a friend on the phone. And I do feel a little tense, but so much more relaxed than earlier this week with all that I have had going on. I guess I tend to implode.
Now, that I have said that, I really do feel pretty calm today. Last night I went to dinner with my Mom and Chip, and had an amazing dinner. And the company and conversation were great, along with the fact that I slept pretty well. What I am anticipating, and why I am referring to this as the calm before the storm, is that tomorrow I have my first of three assessments at the VA hospital for the PTSD study I have entered. It will not be a big deal. They are just doing routine bloodwork, and I will complete some forms saying “I-agree-to-signing-my-life-away-amd-use-the-data-in-this-study-to-track-you-the-rest-of-your-life” kind of thing. I am not a veteran at all, but got into this study as an “at large” berth, if you want to look at this like March Madness. It is a little scary. I am not sure if this study is what I need, but after talking to my new therapist, and checking in with my old therapist, I can drop out if I feel too unsafe. That helps me to do the work I need to do in order to deal with trauma. and that means I can explore these issues knowing I have a safety net. WHEW! And hopefully, this work will allow me to write more freely. I hope so.
Anyway, that is the latest. thanks to all of those who have supported me. Next comes the gym again. I am not that out of shape at all. But, to me, and what I expect, I am. Maybe I need to adjust my expectations???
Thanks all!
Now, that I have said that, I really do feel pretty calm today. Last night I went to dinner with my Mom and Chip, and had an amazing dinner. And the company and conversation were great, along with the fact that I slept pretty well. What I am anticipating, and why I am referring to this as the calm before the storm, is that tomorrow I have my first of three assessments at the VA hospital for the PTSD study I have entered. It will not be a big deal. They are just doing routine bloodwork, and I will complete some forms saying “I-agree-to-signing-my-life-away-amd-use-the-data-in-this-study-to-track-you-the-rest-of-your-life” kind of thing. I am not a veteran at all, but got into this study as an “at large” berth, if you want to look at this like March Madness. It is a little scary. I am not sure if this study is what I need, but after talking to my new therapist, and checking in with my old therapist, I can drop out if I feel too unsafe. That helps me to do the work I need to do in order to deal with trauma. and that means I can explore these issues knowing I have a safety net. WHEW! And hopefully, this work will allow me to write more freely. I hope so.
Anyway, that is the latest. thanks to all of those who have supported me. Next comes the gym again. I am not that out of shape at all. But, to me, and what I expect, I am. Maybe I need to adjust my expectations???
Thanks all!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
The Latest
So, the good news is that I got accepted into the PTSD study at the VA hospital. For those who do not know what PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), I will post information at the end of this blog. The intake was really, really painful -- seven hours of talking about memories in which you are forced to be as explicit as possible. even though I am not a veteran, this study was released to the public, and qualifying was baed on an intake to see if you really do have a PTSD diagnosis. It appears that I do, though I already knew this. The goal of the study is to use Cognitive Behavior Therapy as a means of forcing unconscious and subconscious memories into you consciousness so that you can develop tools in order to deal with trauma. This means that being explicit is necessary. It is scary and intimidating, but I feel that this will only allow me to grow as a person.
As far as the whole drama around Eric, well, he and I have spoken. He is really concerned and takes responsibility for what happened, but I guess what made me a little frustrated was that he put his ex/roommate on the phone to talk to me, and I was told by Larry (ex) that he had a hard time with Eric's decision to be with his new boyfriend because he did not want to see the clues that were already there. Well, fine and dandy, but I never got those clues, because I was still being chatted up. I know Eric feels bad, but trust is just so sacred. How do you go back and reverse the damage? You can't. And even if you can forgive, and I do, how can you learn to trust someone who deceived you over and over again? My theory is that Eric went to England to meet Will, and in the event that it did not work out, I would have been the second choice. Otherwise, why say you still have feelings for me. And the last thing I want to hear right now is how head over heels in love he is with Will. I get it. What I am struggling with are the lies. I don't want to rub this in his face, and at the same time, I don't want to lose a friend, but what was once a special bond has become unraveled, and I am not sure what kind of contact will be helpful at this point. SIGH! Life goes on. At least I am doing the study and getting extra support with my new therapist who has been nothing short of brilliant and says I need to stop blaming myself for what others do, and learn to forgive myself. I know, this is all such psychobabble, but it is what is going on in my life right now, and I guess I need to write about it and get these feelings out. Timing is everything huh?
Thanks to all of you that have offered me nothing but support. Love you guys!
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (nutshell version)
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a real illness. You can get PTSD after living through or seeing a traumatic event, such as war, a hurricane, rape, physical abuse or a bad accident. PTSD makes you feel stressed and afraid after the danger is over. It affects your life and the people around you. PTSD can cause problems like:
Flashbacks, or feeling like the event is happening again
Trouble sleeping or nightmares
Feeling alone
Angry outbursts
Feeling worried, guilty or sad
PTSD starts at different times for different people. Signs of PTSD may start soon after a frightening event and then continue. Other people develop new or more severe signs months or even years later. PTSD can happen to anyone, even children.Medicines can help you feel less afraid and tense. It might take a few weeks for them to work. Talking to a specially trained doctor or counselor also helps many people with PTSD. This is called talk therapy.
National Institute of Mental Health
As far as the whole drama around Eric, well, he and I have spoken. He is really concerned and takes responsibility for what happened, but I guess what made me a little frustrated was that he put his ex/roommate on the phone to talk to me, and I was told by Larry (ex) that he had a hard time with Eric's decision to be with his new boyfriend because he did not want to see the clues that were already there. Well, fine and dandy, but I never got those clues, because I was still being chatted up. I know Eric feels bad, but trust is just so sacred. How do you go back and reverse the damage? You can't. And even if you can forgive, and I do, how can you learn to trust someone who deceived you over and over again? My theory is that Eric went to England to meet Will, and in the event that it did not work out, I would have been the second choice. Otherwise, why say you still have feelings for me. And the last thing I want to hear right now is how head over heels in love he is with Will. I get it. What I am struggling with are the lies. I don't want to rub this in his face, and at the same time, I don't want to lose a friend, but what was once a special bond has become unraveled, and I am not sure what kind of contact will be helpful at this point. SIGH! Life goes on. At least I am doing the study and getting extra support with my new therapist who has been nothing short of brilliant and says I need to stop blaming myself for what others do, and learn to forgive myself. I know, this is all such psychobabble, but it is what is going on in my life right now, and I guess I need to write about it and get these feelings out. Timing is everything huh?
Thanks to all of you that have offered me nothing but support. Love you guys!
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (nutshell version)
Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a real illness. You can get PTSD after living through or seeing a traumatic event, such as war, a hurricane, rape, physical abuse or a bad accident. PTSD makes you feel stressed and afraid after the danger is over. It affects your life and the people around you. PTSD can cause problems like:
Flashbacks, or feeling like the event is happening again
Trouble sleeping or nightmares
Feeling alone
Angry outbursts
Feeling worried, guilty or sad
PTSD starts at different times for different people. Signs of PTSD may start soon after a frightening event and then continue. Other people develop new or more severe signs months or even years later. PTSD can happen to anyone, even children.Medicines can help you feel less afraid and tense. It might take a few weeks for them to work. Talking to a specially trained doctor or counselor also helps many people with PTSD. This is called talk therapy.
National Institute of Mental Health
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Men suck.
So, I have been talking to this guy for many, many months now, and he then professed he had "feelings" for me and even used the "L" word. Well, I knew we had an emotional connection, but I was a little surprised. But, it gave me hope. And I was looking forward to meeting him until I learned he scheduled a trip to England. England? Isn't that more expensive than spending time with me? I asked him if his feelings had changed, and he told me that no, he still felt the same way he always has, and that there was no one in England, that he knew a lot of people over there, and he just wanted to spend his birthday with friends. Of course I knew a few months before that something was different. I just felt it. So then I looked at his Facebook profile. You know they changed the d*%ned profile page, so if you want to know something personal, you have to search for it. And guess what? He now has a partner. To read about it without being told personally, after he told me he loved me -- I mean, OMG! OMG! I mean, I was content to be just friends. We had not met, and I was going to reserve judgment until I met him in person, but he kept pursuing things, and I found myself getting wrapped up emotionally in what was happening. This happened to me twice this year, the previous one being Anthony who basically ignored me after we met, yet told me there was nothing wrong. And then A. told me that he wasn't relationship material, and two weeks later was in a relationship. Again, I found out on Facebook.
What is wrong with being open and honest? Both of these men knew everything about me -- the good and bad. With Eric, I really confronted him good, but then I found out his relationship status had changed over two months ago, and somehow he chose not to tell me, and continue with his amorous feelings. What the Hell is wrong with people? Why not just say, I really like you, but I think we should pursue this as a friendship? Or, I was premature in admitting I had feelings for you. I am sorry. No, I had to confront both jerks. And yes, they are good people, but in this case acted really badly and dishonestly. So, to make matters worse, I had to manage Eric. I had to confront him. and then he stopped responding when I asked the most important question -- why? I know he did not know how to respond to that. But then I gave it a few days for him to think about it, and he did not respond. So I finally had to write/manage once more and told him that I understand the questions may be difficult to talk about, but that I would have more respect for him if he had called me, or at least attempted to write me a note explaining everything (less respect, but saving some grace). I was really just mad, but now I feel hurt. Anthony was the one who really threw me, because we had been talking for a year and a half, and he flew out to meet me, saying he was transitioning out of a job, and moving would be possible. Now, he mentioned San Francisco as well as other places, but he kept those hopes burning. And then he came out, and we had the most romantic night, and then he flew out the next day and blew me off. Anyway, I am at a point where I understand, and of course, I always did know, that pursuing something long distance rarely works. But, you have to have hope and faith, right? And when you are so heavily pursued, you have to want to believe, even when you are a little skeptical that the situation itself may not work because of logistics. Sorry for going on, but I feel so betrayed. But as usual, I will persevere. I have more to write about other stuff, but I will save it for later.
Thanks friends for your support.
What is wrong with being open and honest? Both of these men knew everything about me -- the good and bad. With Eric, I really confronted him good, but then I found out his relationship status had changed over two months ago, and somehow he chose not to tell me, and continue with his amorous feelings. What the Hell is wrong with people? Why not just say, I really like you, but I think we should pursue this as a friendship? Or, I was premature in admitting I had feelings for you. I am sorry. No, I had to confront both jerks. And yes, they are good people, but in this case acted really badly and dishonestly. So, to make matters worse, I had to manage Eric. I had to confront him. and then he stopped responding when I asked the most important question -- why? I know he did not know how to respond to that. But then I gave it a few days for him to think about it, and he did not respond. So I finally had to write/manage once more and told him that I understand the questions may be difficult to talk about, but that I would have more respect for him if he had called me, or at least attempted to write me a note explaining everything (less respect, but saving some grace). I was really just mad, but now I feel hurt. Anthony was the one who really threw me, because we had been talking for a year and a half, and he flew out to meet me, saying he was transitioning out of a job, and moving would be possible. Now, he mentioned San Francisco as well as other places, but he kept those hopes burning. And then he came out, and we had the most romantic night, and then he flew out the next day and blew me off. Anyway, I am at a point where I understand, and of course, I always did know, that pursuing something long distance rarely works. But, you have to have hope and faith, right? And when you are so heavily pursued, you have to want to believe, even when you are a little skeptical that the situation itself may not work because of logistics. Sorry for going on, but I feel so betrayed. But as usual, I will persevere. I have more to write about other stuff, but I will save it for later.
Thanks friends for your support.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
First of the First
So here I am, and you are probably wondering why am I blogging and why you should care. Well, you don't have to care (LOL), but I am doing to do my best to post some of my writing for all of you to read, and please feel free to comment on anything you see. Also, from time to time, I will probably just fill you in on something personal, or something that may be happening to a friend or within my community. Maybe I will even get bolder and write controversial things. Who knows? This is the first blog, and I just hope you will continue to support it.
Best,
Michael
Best,
Michael
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