I want a girlfriend for Christmas. I'm tired of being alone.
Now, I am blessed to have many friends who care a great deal about me. They take my feelings into consideration, and they are kind to me. I even have some special women friends like Erica and Chelsea and Jen who, if truth be told, are all I really need in my life to be blessed and content, and fulfill my need for emotional intimacy. But, I also want to be happy. At the end of the day, I am still lonely.
I want a girlfriend.
I went on a first date recently. She is a girl who is a friend, and yes she is very special. This particular woman may not be anymore interested in being a girlfriend than the others who are friends at varying levels of platonic intimacy. She's wonderful and I'm blessed to have her, but the friendship bases are covered around the horn. I am looking for the woman who can't wait to see me come home. I'm looking for the woman, who, when I'm not there is wondering how I feel, but who, when I am there knows exactly how I feel. It would be great if this woman were to be the one I spent last Sunday evening with. If that's not the case, that's okay, too. But, it needs to be somebody.
I want a girlfriend.
When I meet women to date the good people in my life tell me stuff like "just see how it goes" and "don't get your hopes up"; then, there's that inner voice that says "don't get ahead of yourself". Well, I know how it usually goes and I want something different, if not this particular time, then soon. I am a hopeless romantic; my hopes will always be up. And, at the age of 41, and with a healthy grasp of the person that I am and the love I have to be able to share with another, I don't feel like I'm getting too particularly ahead of myself.
I want a girlfriend.
When my friends say stuff like I just mentioned, it seems to tell me that they feel it necessary to steel me against every girl I meet not being interested, mostly sooner rather than later. They tell me I am wrong to blame myself for not keeping the love of a good woman by saying that I'm too old, too fat, too conservative, too flaky, too sensitive, too detached, too whatever. But then, their sentiments say exactly the same thing - that I probably don't have what it takes to keep a woman's romantic interest. Then, hearing it spelled out in plain truth disturbs them to the point that they say I am wrong for seeing exactly what they seem to be saying.
I want a girlfriend.
I have a friend who recently took his own life. He was lonely. He was a good 15 years older than me. Now, I'm not saying I have any intention of doing myself even the slightest harm. But, I'll bet that if you'd asked him 15 years ago, while he was still lonely but seemingly happier, that he'd never thought he'd want to do himself any harm either. I know his decision was a choice that I can choose to not make. I also am quite familiar with the road that got him to his final, fateful moment.
I want a girlfriend.
So there you have it, Santa! I am blessed! I want you to take care of everyone else before you get around to me. But, if on Christmas Eve, there is one more miracle left in your bag of tricks...
Well, I really kinda want a girlfriend!
"Pretty Paper", Roy Orbison.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
2 O'Clock Jump
I look pretty damn good to women through rose' (read ROH-zay) colored glasses. Call it a closing time charm. I listen; I am everything every other guy is not. I'm like them, but not like them, if I were to paraphrase a recent conversation, which, I suppose, I just did. I get to be almost desired for a few hours. Then, in the harsh, cold light of the next morning, I am back to being a candidate unworthy of romantic consideration - too this and not enough that. Tender hearts and strong spirits do not mix well.
I get used. I have a friend who was in a bind and needed to "borrow" (I have since learned to lend without the expectation of recompense) some money. I took this person twice as much as they told me was needed. The next day, that friend said they remembered they actually needed three times the amount of their original request. I didn't throw bad money after good, and so I imagine I will not be high on that friend's list of concerns any longer. This happens in family, too. I actually got criticized, just this Monday, for not being in one place to be able to help my father, while I was out picking up dinner for him and Mom. True story. My family often tell me that I should not let my friends use me. I feel like asking, "Why? So you can do it first?". Sometimes, I wonder if I'd get more respect and more romantic attention if I were to act like an indifferent ass.
I have been passed over for promotion twice in the last five years at work - both times to the choice of junior colleagues. My boss just quit. People are telling me that his boss said I will be named acting supervisor; no one asked or told me. I'm tired of having my loyalty and services assumed. Unfortunately, I want the job because I know I can do it better and more efficiently than I've seen it done. Maybe success is the best revenge.
I recently had one of my closest friends tell me that more than one woman in our social circle thinks I would be a good catch - with a catch. That catch - again - being if I were like me, but different. I'm not. This is it. I am me. Apparently, its not enough.
Rejection does not bother me; universal rejection does. There are things women like about me, but the entirety of the package is unacceptable. I'd almost prefer to be rejected flatly, than to be rejected by way of guised compliment. Sorry, ladies, I take no comfort in being almost worthy of your affection; either, I am, or I'm not. This is what gives rise to those dark feelings of depression and self-hatred, which seem to be coming home for the holidays. That, in itself, has become a bit of a tradition.
Please pass the cranberries and a bit of social indifference. Why, thank you!
"No One Is To Blame", Howard Jones.
I get used. I have a friend who was in a bind and needed to "borrow" (I have since learned to lend without the expectation of recompense) some money. I took this person twice as much as they told me was needed. The next day, that friend said they remembered they actually needed three times the amount of their original request. I didn't throw bad money after good, and so I imagine I will not be high on that friend's list of concerns any longer. This happens in family, too. I actually got criticized, just this Monday, for not being in one place to be able to help my father, while I was out picking up dinner for him and Mom. True story. My family often tell me that I should not let my friends use me. I feel like asking, "Why? So you can do it first?". Sometimes, I wonder if I'd get more respect and more romantic attention if I were to act like an indifferent ass.
I have been passed over for promotion twice in the last five years at work - both times to the choice of junior colleagues. My boss just quit. People are telling me that his boss said I will be named acting supervisor; no one asked or told me. I'm tired of having my loyalty and services assumed. Unfortunately, I want the job because I know I can do it better and more efficiently than I've seen it done. Maybe success is the best revenge.
I recently had one of my closest friends tell me that more than one woman in our social circle thinks I would be a good catch - with a catch. That catch - again - being if I were like me, but different. I'm not. This is it. I am me. Apparently, its not enough.
Rejection does not bother me; universal rejection does. There are things women like about me, but the entirety of the package is unacceptable. I'd almost prefer to be rejected flatly, than to be rejected by way of guised compliment. Sorry, ladies, I take no comfort in being almost worthy of your affection; either, I am, or I'm not. This is what gives rise to those dark feelings of depression and self-hatred, which seem to be coming home for the holidays. That, in itself, has become a bit of a tradition.
Please pass the cranberries and a bit of social indifference. Why, thank you!
"No One Is To Blame", Howard Jones.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Sweet Freedom
I'm not there yet; but, I'm not where I started, either.
I still have bad days. I still feel very darkly negative feelings. I still beat myself up. But now, when those things happen, I have the sense of those negative instances being temporary. I am not that bad person or that loser or that worthless punching bag I wanted to revile myself as being. Revulsion, you see, and self-loathing give you an excuse to not try to improve your situation. Now, I do not by any means have all of this - or even any of it - down pat. I'm not sure I'm even particularly good at appropriating internal feelings and impulses. I only know that I am doing better than when I started, and better than I have been doing even recently.
Improvement came when I stopped isolating my perception of self and began to place it into context based in reality. How do I treat people? How do they react to me? How have I handled past challenges? What did I learn? How did I apply those lessons? How can I do this better? Do I want to? The most freeing feelings I've ever felt came by way of placing myself within the context of the big picture. It took inclusion to begin to set me free. When you make a list of people you know and whose opinions you respect, then you look at your interpersonal relationships with those individuals, you begin to get a reality based sense of the general external perception of the person you are - what people really think about you. For folks who have suffered or are suffering like I have, that external perception will almost invariably be better than the one you've spun up in your own mind about yourself.
Isolation of yourself or your perception of self is one of the most harmful things you can do, I think. With isolation it is entirely to be all the horrible things I told myself I was. It is only when I presented my evidence for that argument against the reality of the big picture that I saw how false it actually was. I'm not that loser or that failure or that ogre. I'm just a guy. I'm a guy who has done what he thought would bring about the best turn of circumstance for the greatest number of people possible. I am the kind of guy I would want in my corner, in my life, and among my circle of friends. By using isolation, I was able to make myself out to be a horrible monster. The truth is I could just as easily have spun myself up to be an orange polka-dotted horse - none of it was real.
So, onto seeing the big picture. How do people interact with you? What do you contribute? Its something, else they wouldn't stick around for very long 'cause people just don't have time for kicking a dead horse, orange polka-dotting be damned. Do people rely on you? Are you funny? Do you make people laugh in a good, healthy way, or dry their tears as they are getting their cry out? Do you listen? Then, guess what - they need you as much as you need them, and I guarantee you most certainly matter - to them, if not to yourself. But if not to yourself, then why not...and is your why not based on who you are in the big picture, or who you want to make yourself out to be so that you can justify poor or abusive treatment from someone whose validation and approval that you sought but was withheld for reasons that were never your fault or yours to control? These are hard questions. Sometimes, they will require you to see abuse and belittling is not love, and that it never was intended to be. Ultimately, though, it will make you stop doing the same thing to yourself, ergo breaking the cycle of continuity of abuse that you are perpetuating internally instead of toward others. It will make you look to see if there is some way to improve the circumstance for your abuser; and, sadly, sometimes to realize that some abusers do not wish to heal, change, improve, or be forgiven. Sometimes, the really rotten stinkers will even go back to some of their old abusive ways and push the buttons of your most fragile sensitivities. In that case, you need to give that person space to enjoy their misery, and to dole that space out in such a manner (physically and/or emotionally) so that it does not encompass you.
Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.". Love the ones who love you, and love the ones who don't. Know the difference between them, and give power and influence only to the ones who want to help you progress and make life better. Bitterness is best left to the bitter. Never try to cajole or manipulate, and that includes yourself. Honor your friends and honor yourself for the person you are. Give everyone, including yourself, the freedom of their own action and opinion. Draw from as many positive sources as you can find, and always return the favor in abundance. Love frees and empowers; meanness represses and constrains.
"Set Them Free", Sting.
I still have bad days. I still feel very darkly negative feelings. I still beat myself up. But now, when those things happen, I have the sense of those negative instances being temporary. I am not that bad person or that loser or that worthless punching bag I wanted to revile myself as being. Revulsion, you see, and self-loathing give you an excuse to not try to improve your situation. Now, I do not by any means have all of this - or even any of it - down pat. I'm not sure I'm even particularly good at appropriating internal feelings and impulses. I only know that I am doing better than when I started, and better than I have been doing even recently.
Improvement came when I stopped isolating my perception of self and began to place it into context based in reality. How do I treat people? How do they react to me? How have I handled past challenges? What did I learn? How did I apply those lessons? How can I do this better? Do I want to? The most freeing feelings I've ever felt came by way of placing myself within the context of the big picture. It took inclusion to begin to set me free. When you make a list of people you know and whose opinions you respect, then you look at your interpersonal relationships with those individuals, you begin to get a reality based sense of the general external perception of the person you are - what people really think about you. For folks who have suffered or are suffering like I have, that external perception will almost invariably be better than the one you've spun up in your own mind about yourself.
Isolation of yourself or your perception of self is one of the most harmful things you can do, I think. With isolation it is entirely to be all the horrible things I told myself I was. It is only when I presented my evidence for that argument against the reality of the big picture that I saw how false it actually was. I'm not that loser or that failure or that ogre. I'm just a guy. I'm a guy who has done what he thought would bring about the best turn of circumstance for the greatest number of people possible. I am the kind of guy I would want in my corner, in my life, and among my circle of friends. By using isolation, I was able to make myself out to be a horrible monster. The truth is I could just as easily have spun myself up to be an orange polka-dotted horse - none of it was real.
So, onto seeing the big picture. How do people interact with you? What do you contribute? Its something, else they wouldn't stick around for very long 'cause people just don't have time for kicking a dead horse, orange polka-dotting be damned. Do people rely on you? Are you funny? Do you make people laugh in a good, healthy way, or dry their tears as they are getting their cry out? Do you listen? Then, guess what - they need you as much as you need them, and I guarantee you most certainly matter - to them, if not to yourself. But if not to yourself, then why not...and is your why not based on who you are in the big picture, or who you want to make yourself out to be so that you can justify poor or abusive treatment from someone whose validation and approval that you sought but was withheld for reasons that were never your fault or yours to control? These are hard questions. Sometimes, they will require you to see abuse and belittling is not love, and that it never was intended to be. Ultimately, though, it will make you stop doing the same thing to yourself, ergo breaking the cycle of continuity of abuse that you are perpetuating internally instead of toward others. It will make you look to see if there is some way to improve the circumstance for your abuser; and, sadly, sometimes to realize that some abusers do not wish to heal, change, improve, or be forgiven. Sometimes, the really rotten stinkers will even go back to some of their old abusive ways and push the buttons of your most fragile sensitivities. In that case, you need to give that person space to enjoy their misery, and to dole that space out in such a manner (physically and/or emotionally) so that it does not encompass you.
Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.". Love the ones who love you, and love the ones who don't. Know the difference between them, and give power and influence only to the ones who want to help you progress and make life better. Bitterness is best left to the bitter. Never try to cajole or manipulate, and that includes yourself. Honor your friends and honor yourself for the person you are. Give everyone, including yourself, the freedom of their own action and opinion. Draw from as many positive sources as you can find, and always return the favor in abundance. Love frees and empowers; meanness represses and constrains.
"Set Them Free", Sting.
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Enigmatic Understanding
Sometimes, the pieces just sorta fall into place.
For awhile now, I've been puzzling about my own individual standing and how it is perceived by others in areas such as: potential romantic relationships with women, my social circle and activities of choice, even my relationships with family members and coworkers. These thoughts, as you probably know, have been cause of more than a little consternation.
On Tuesday, I was at open mic night with Erica and Jen and company. Erica decided to put me on the allegorical shrink's couch. She said that there are a few women among our group who think I have what it takes to attract a woman, but that I am dealing in surroundings where I am not meeting a potential romantic interest who is close enough to my own age. I think that's a fair assessment, because my own intended target demographic of potential dating partners are women in their mid 30s to mid 40s. All of my friends among Erica's crowd are mid 20s to early 30s; and, as such, just too young for me and them to be on the same page, socially. Age is an inhibitor in that group, but a few of them, as I mentioned, see potential for me to be a good dating prospect. Some of the qualities these young women say that I have working in my favor are a sense of style, and that I always smell nice...thank you, Old Spice!
Of course, I was in the mood to debate the notion, and take Erica's premise to task. I told her that I was, apparently, not acceptable dating material because, by God, results matter, and I am not currently dating anyone. Nevermind that I have not made much of an effort to extend my social connections beyond Erica's inner circle, and try to meet people closer to my own age. To say so, would only have weakened my own self-indicting attack, and probably given Erica the upper hand in the debate. Whenever truth gets in the way of my reasons for psychologically beating myself up, I simply choose to ignore it. Facts, as Roanld Reagan said, are stubborn things. So, I countered that, with all my perceived good qualities her friends mentioned, there is no aspect of me that needs to be fixed. Nevermind that I like to psychologically beat myself up; that is just facts being stubborn again. My theory being that women are only interested in dating men in need of fixing, which may or may not be true - I don't know - but it sounded good, and Erica bought it, too.
We kept talking about those and mostly other topics, and then later in the evening Erica offered an opinion that I have been processing since she said it. Erica said that she thinks I feel stuck. It resonated immediately as being mostly true. I knew I would need to look into it further, and I have been ever since she threw it out there.
At the beginning of this year, the areas of my life that I was looking to improve were that I wasn't dating and I didn't really have a close circle of friends to socialize with on a regular basis. I got invited to a night out for Erica's birthday party on March 31, and from that one night made enough contacts and connections to establish a new social circle of about 25 or 30 people who are glad to see me when I go out. I also found a group of a half dozen, or so, folks, who became friends on a much more personal level, and those folks have been the greatest blessing in my life in the last ten years.
My social skills were a bit rusty when I started to get myself back out there, but my new group of friends made re-assimilation quick, fun, and painless. Prior to this I had largely gotten by as an introvert who made my contatcts by way of mandated exposure to classmates and coworkers. When I stopped taking classes and my interpersonal dynamics at work changed, I had no source of or perceived need for self-initiated social moxy. I was, and still am, proud to be an introvert. Then today a thought occurred to me:
For awhile now, I've been puzzling about my own individual standing and how it is perceived by others in areas such as: potential romantic relationships with women, my social circle and activities of choice, even my relationships with family members and coworkers. These thoughts, as you probably know, have been cause of more than a little consternation.
On Tuesday, I was at open mic night with Erica and Jen and company. Erica decided to put me on the allegorical shrink's couch. She said that there are a few women among our group who think I have what it takes to attract a woman, but that I am dealing in surroundings where I am not meeting a potential romantic interest who is close enough to my own age. I think that's a fair assessment, because my own intended target demographic of potential dating partners are women in their mid 30s to mid 40s. All of my friends among Erica's crowd are mid 20s to early 30s; and, as such, just too young for me and them to be on the same page, socially. Age is an inhibitor in that group, but a few of them, as I mentioned, see potential for me to be a good dating prospect. Some of the qualities these young women say that I have working in my favor are a sense of style, and that I always smell nice...thank you, Old Spice!
Of course, I was in the mood to debate the notion, and take Erica's premise to task. I told her that I was, apparently, not acceptable dating material because, by God, results matter, and I am not currently dating anyone. Nevermind that I have not made much of an effort to extend my social connections beyond Erica's inner circle, and try to meet people closer to my own age. To say so, would only have weakened my own self-indicting attack, and probably given Erica the upper hand in the debate. Whenever truth gets in the way of my reasons for psychologically beating myself up, I simply choose to ignore it. Facts, as Roanld Reagan said, are stubborn things. So, I countered that, with all my perceived good qualities her friends mentioned, there is no aspect of me that needs to be fixed. Nevermind that I like to psychologically beat myself up; that is just facts being stubborn again. My theory being that women are only interested in dating men in need of fixing, which may or may not be true - I don't know - but it sounded good, and Erica bought it, too.
We kept talking about those and mostly other topics, and then later in the evening Erica offered an opinion that I have been processing since she said it. Erica said that she thinks I feel stuck. It resonated immediately as being mostly true. I knew I would need to look into it further, and I have been ever since she threw it out there.
At the beginning of this year, the areas of my life that I was looking to improve were that I wasn't dating and I didn't really have a close circle of friends to socialize with on a regular basis. I got invited to a night out for Erica's birthday party on March 31, and from that one night made enough contacts and connections to establish a new social circle of about 25 or 30 people who are glad to see me when I go out. I also found a group of a half dozen, or so, folks, who became friends on a much more personal level, and those folks have been the greatest blessing in my life in the last ten years.
My social skills were a bit rusty when I started to get myself back out there, but my new group of friends made re-assimilation quick, fun, and painless. Prior to this I had largely gotten by as an introvert who made my contatcts by way of mandated exposure to classmates and coworkers. When I stopped taking classes and my interpersonal dynamics at work changed, I had no source of or perceived need for self-initiated social moxy. I was, and still am, proud to be an introvert. Then today a thought occurred to me:
I'm enigmatic, but no one gets it...
By way of my current collaboration with Kerry, I am looking again at my introverted side. I think the mistake I have been making this year was to think I needed to change that aspect of who I am in order to be liked. I think that conundrum is what Erica was seeing when she said she thinks I feel stuck. Erica was right! I have been between a rock and a hard place trying to figure out how to reconcile the old me with someone who has friends. I think I've sold my current group of friends too discerningly short. Its possible that I can be both an introvert, and worthy of friends, companions...hell, who knows, maybe even a lover. That maybe (and it seems a little strange for me to be thinking this about myself), just maybe, these people like me because I am different, and maybe a very special woman will, too.
That being the case, I am going to re-incorporate some of my more introverted tendencies, but instead of brooding on them alone, I will make sure to observe the reaction and heed the input of my friends. For the first time in my life, I have invested trust in those half dozen or so people mentioned above and in my last post. I trust them as keenly as my own intuition. I trust them to let me know when my own intuition is steering me wrong, 'cause sometimes enigmatism - as great as it can be - is no guarantee of an accurate view.
I am still trying to get away from the need to beat myself up.
Monday, October 15, 2012
Want, Need & Desire
No matter how much logic I try to spin into my current situation, it always comes back to my fairly immediate intention to be part of a romantic relationship. The lines that delineate desire versus need versus want are blurry. I'm not sure it so much matters.
I think part of the disconnect, up 'til this point, has been the way in which I have made myself available for a romantic relationship, and really for all intimate, interpersonal relationships. I give love, and I give it to the exclusion of taking it in return. I don't accept reciprocation. I emotionally spend myself on others, but I never invest in anyone. Without too much finger-pointing or blame-gaming, I think this is because my foundational experiences were not what they should have been.
It is generally presumed that good begets good. That may well be true in some long run, big picture knowledge or understanding; but, it doesn't always seem that way from an individual perspective. I remember being hurt by someone close to me, then trying to fix the situation by responding with love and deference to that person. That person's wrath increased. That person continued to do things and say things that were hurtful. That person nearly destroyed me. So, I had to move onto other persons who responded positively to my expressions of love and deference. More often than not, those people were being hurt by the same person whose meanness I eventually had to manage by way of paying the aggressor only cursory attention. These others who received my investment of love and deference kindly needed to use all the capital that investment brought with it to sooth and heal their own emotional wounds and scars inflicted by the aggressive person. For a very long time, my understanding was that love was to be given with the expectation of nothing in return.
For most of my childhood and adult life, the logical value of unrequited love - in every capacity - made perfect sense. Since partnering up with Vickie in 2007, I have actively tried to fix my own thought patterns, and put my disillusionment with the treatment I have received from others in the past to rest for good. I have made tremendous strides. Through prayer and with God's help, I forgave all past indiscretions unconditionally. The aggressor changed, and embraced the best within themself that they had to offer, and we have since been able to make peace. The aggressor from my past continues to repair other relationships damaged by their past aggression.
In establishing my own identity, my first and foremost goal from a very early age was to be not an aggressor, not mean. On top of that, and later into my adult life, I realized that it felt good to give love freely to those who needed it. I became a crisis manager, a fixer of situations and people broken. I took a great deal of fulfillment and personal validation from that role. I turned it into a career, and ultimately a lifestyle. I never learned how to receive it back, though. I was like a chef at a five star restaurant who lacked the social graces to dine at a table of my own setting; I''m still not sure which fork I'm supposed to use.
There have been people in life who have been so obviously good to me, in retrospect, that I have slowly learned to invest love into our mutual relationships - Jennifer Packard, Steve Jenkins, Debbie Dudley, Craig Johnson and Jack Radcliffe loved and still love me unconditionally. It is upsetting, in a way, that the clarity for acknowledging what they have been doing for so many years has been so long in coming. More recently, because of my work with Vickie and Kerry, I have been able to invest my love into a a few more close, personal friends in such a way that I know I can draw emotional support back from them when I need to. My very dear friend Chelsea Romano has stepped up tremendously and makes a regular effort to try to truly understand me in a way that helps me to better understand myself.
Need is still a slippery slope for me, because I don't know how to necessarily appropriate it in relation to other kinds of feelings. I don't know the boundaries of fairness or propriety where need is concerned. I do have one amazingly special friend who is content to accept my expression of need. When my whole world is topsy-turvy and everything feels like it has been turned upside down in my life - basically, when my world seems to have been totally shattered - Erica Bragg is my rock. She is the one person that is absolutely and unquestionaly able to be relied on as an emotional point-of-reference and know that only good can come from it. At this point, without a romantic partner in my life, I don't know where I'd find an external source of unyielding and constant reassurance that everything will always eventually be okay, were it not for Erica.
My recent experience with Ashley taught me to not try to bring a potential romantic interest too quickly into that circle of trust. I am incredibly blessed to have professional care of Vickie and Kerry. I feel beyond blessed by having Erica and Chelsea there to bring their sensitivity, wisdom and unwavering reliability to my journey of self-awareness. I'm not completely sure what makes them care so much, but they make me feel like I matter. I'm not going to question a good thing.
Still, I imagine that it would be pretty cool to have that other person in my life who is an equal partner in every sense of the word. That person that you instinctively know when to help, and the one who, when they say, "I've got this.", its not to tell you to back off, but just to let you know that this is an individual who has the strength and trust to invest and spend emotional need, too.
Until that person comes along, I'm blessed and content, but still definitely looking...
"When I Need You", Leo Sayer.
I think part of the disconnect, up 'til this point, has been the way in which I have made myself available for a romantic relationship, and really for all intimate, interpersonal relationships. I give love, and I give it to the exclusion of taking it in return. I don't accept reciprocation. I emotionally spend myself on others, but I never invest in anyone. Without too much finger-pointing or blame-gaming, I think this is because my foundational experiences were not what they should have been.
It is generally presumed that good begets good. That may well be true in some long run, big picture knowledge or understanding; but, it doesn't always seem that way from an individual perspective. I remember being hurt by someone close to me, then trying to fix the situation by responding with love and deference to that person. That person's wrath increased. That person continued to do things and say things that were hurtful. That person nearly destroyed me. So, I had to move onto other persons who responded positively to my expressions of love and deference. More often than not, those people were being hurt by the same person whose meanness I eventually had to manage by way of paying the aggressor only cursory attention. These others who received my investment of love and deference kindly needed to use all the capital that investment brought with it to sooth and heal their own emotional wounds and scars inflicted by the aggressive person. For a very long time, my understanding was that love was to be given with the expectation of nothing in return.
For most of my childhood and adult life, the logical value of unrequited love - in every capacity - made perfect sense. Since partnering up with Vickie in 2007, I have actively tried to fix my own thought patterns, and put my disillusionment with the treatment I have received from others in the past to rest for good. I have made tremendous strides. Through prayer and with God's help, I forgave all past indiscretions unconditionally. The aggressor changed, and embraced the best within themself that they had to offer, and we have since been able to make peace. The aggressor from my past continues to repair other relationships damaged by their past aggression.
In establishing my own identity, my first and foremost goal from a very early age was to be not an aggressor, not mean. On top of that, and later into my adult life, I realized that it felt good to give love freely to those who needed it. I became a crisis manager, a fixer of situations and people broken. I took a great deal of fulfillment and personal validation from that role. I turned it into a career, and ultimately a lifestyle. I never learned how to receive it back, though. I was like a chef at a five star restaurant who lacked the social graces to dine at a table of my own setting; I''m still not sure which fork I'm supposed to use.
There have been people in life who have been so obviously good to me, in retrospect, that I have slowly learned to invest love into our mutual relationships - Jennifer Packard, Steve Jenkins, Debbie Dudley, Craig Johnson and Jack Radcliffe loved and still love me unconditionally. It is upsetting, in a way, that the clarity for acknowledging what they have been doing for so many years has been so long in coming. More recently, because of my work with Vickie and Kerry, I have been able to invest my love into a a few more close, personal friends in such a way that I know I can draw emotional support back from them when I need to. My very dear friend Chelsea Romano has stepped up tremendously and makes a regular effort to try to truly understand me in a way that helps me to better understand myself.
Need is still a slippery slope for me, because I don't know how to necessarily appropriate it in relation to other kinds of feelings. I don't know the boundaries of fairness or propriety where need is concerned. I do have one amazingly special friend who is content to accept my expression of need. When my whole world is topsy-turvy and everything feels like it has been turned upside down in my life - basically, when my world seems to have been totally shattered - Erica Bragg is my rock. She is the one person that is absolutely and unquestionaly able to be relied on as an emotional point-of-reference and know that only good can come from it. At this point, without a romantic partner in my life, I don't know where I'd find an external source of unyielding and constant reassurance that everything will always eventually be okay, were it not for Erica.
My recent experience with Ashley taught me to not try to bring a potential romantic interest too quickly into that circle of trust. I am incredibly blessed to have professional care of Vickie and Kerry. I feel beyond blessed by having Erica and Chelsea there to bring their sensitivity, wisdom and unwavering reliability to my journey of self-awareness. I'm not completely sure what makes them care so much, but they make me feel like I matter. I'm not going to question a good thing.
Still, I imagine that it would be pretty cool to have that other person in my life who is an equal partner in every sense of the word. That person that you instinctively know when to help, and the one who, when they say, "I've got this.", its not to tell you to back off, but just to let you know that this is an individual who has the strength and trust to invest and spend emotional need, too.
Until that person comes along, I'm blessed and content, but still definitely looking...
"When I Need You", Leo Sayer.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Mattering Matters
Kerry (my therapist) worked through some stuff with me on Tuesday that brought me to the root cause of why I feel as badly as I do as often as I do: I don't feel like I matter. Now, there are reasons this is the way I feel, and at least as many reasons why I should probably not feel that way, but Kerry got down to the root cause of my depression. Kerry has been an awesome therapist, especially considering that I was not at all happy to have to find anyone other than Vickie to provide that type of collaborative relationship. I've hit the jackpot twice!
Now, when I say I feel like I don't matter, that is all I men. That is how I feel. I am blessed and grateful to have nice people - both family and friends - in my life. In fact, all glory to God, I am blessed in abundance! But Kerry and I got talking about a situation when I took a modest dinner to a friend. Kerry thought it was a wonderful gesture because it would make the recipient feel like they mattered. That phraseology feel like they mattered immediately and very obviously resonated within me. I knew that was the feeling I had been lacking. Over and above needing a date or a romantic partner, I have never really felt as though I have mattered, simply for the sake that everyone should matter...without condition. My sense of mattering has almost always been attached to some kind of expectation of me. They want me around 'cause I say nice things, or they need me here to manage their crises. I have always believed that in order to matter, I had to provide some function or service. I matter at work 'cause they need a warm body behind the console for eight hours, that kind of thing.
Kerry took our session several minutes over limit and into the next scheduled session, in fact. She dimed me into the writings of a guy named Daniel Siegel. I immediately downloaded his book Mindsight via the Kindle app on my phone. Just the introduction of the book has begun to clue me into ways of the mind working (and ways to rework it) that I had never considered. This all happened because Kerry listened to every word I said. Kerry pointed me in a direction wherein I have already been able to avail myself of greater clarity into my own thoughts and feelings. The basic principle of what I have read so far in Siegel's book is to know and put into practice the difference between BEING any given way and FEELING that way. Just because I feel sad, doesn't mean I am sad. Just because I feel like a loser doesn't mean I am a loser. Siegel seems to advance that BEING and FEELING are two completely different things. Those of you who have followed my blog recently probably can understand how freeing this kind of knowledge is for me. In fact, I told a very dear friend tonight that this may get me to a point where I quit throwing myself under the bus. I said it won't happen overnight, but that I'm already moving to a new corner where the bus doesn't come by as frequently. I need to let up on myself. I've been in self-attack mode for way too long. If a woman doesn't want to date me, or some people don't want me in their social group, its probably just their need for something different, and not something wrong with who I am. I think more people than not will probably like who I am just fine.
I also got another book entitled Party of One: the Loners' Manifesto by Anneli Rufus. This book honors the choices and ways of being for people like me who are more introverted. I am at a bit of a crossroads right now trying to figure out the best course for myself going forward, and the knowledge I am drawing from both of these books, I'm sure, will help tremendously.
I am at a crossroads because I am finding that I am not fulfilled by only going to this bar and that for open mic night. I do kinda miss going to MaGerk's on Tuesday night for trivia, but still, its a bar. While bars are great, they are not my target environment for some of the goals of my social agenda. I need to add more options to my social repertoire. I need to get involved in some kind of activity that challenges me and pushes my boundaries a little bit more.
I am also discovering that some things I believed about myself are not true at all. For instance, I believed I needed to be in a committed romantic relationship. I don't need that, I want that. I need to find a way to realize that I do, in fact, matter, and probably have mattered, unconditionally, to more people than I realized. I think that until I get a good handle on the latter, there is absolutely no sense in trying to incorporate the former. Relationships need to flourish in a psychologically healthy environment; I've seen too many potentially good ones go bad the other way.
I have even gotten my head around the confusion of feeling need for a person whom I thought it was inappropriate to feel that need for. Now, I understand that feeling of need was there because that wonderful, special other person "saw" the healthy me that I couldn't seem to see for myself. That person also would not abide my self destructive categorizations of who I am as a person. Even when my argument for being a loser was "rock solid", this person simply rejected it and walked away. I am happy and proud, and so very blessed and appreciative to be able to need this person in my life, and to count on them to be there for me, even when I'm not there for myself. There are friends, there are lovers, there are confidants. Then, there are some individuals who come along in life who are so entirely special that no label is adequate to capture the meaning and importance of who they are. That person for me is beyond amazing!
With this newfound knowledge about myself and my inner processes, there are bound to be some changes. I will probably start to re-embrace some of my more solitary pursuits, like photography, and not be so caught up in trying to change to be a social butrerfly. Maybe instead of trying to morph into some kind of socially graceful butterfly that I'm not, I can create respect within myself and others for the warm-and-fuzzy caterpillar that I am - one who is less forcedly gregarious and perhaps a bit more casually austere, but who loves people in his own unique way.
"The Heart of the Matter", Don Henley.
Now, when I say I feel like I don't matter, that is all I men. That is how I feel. I am blessed and grateful to have nice people - both family and friends - in my life. In fact, all glory to God, I am blessed in abundance! But Kerry and I got talking about a situation when I took a modest dinner to a friend. Kerry thought it was a wonderful gesture because it would make the recipient feel like they mattered. That phraseology feel like they mattered immediately and very obviously resonated within me. I knew that was the feeling I had been lacking. Over and above needing a date or a romantic partner, I have never really felt as though I have mattered, simply for the sake that everyone should matter...without condition. My sense of mattering has almost always been attached to some kind of expectation of me. They want me around 'cause I say nice things, or they need me here to manage their crises. I have always believed that in order to matter, I had to provide some function or service. I matter at work 'cause they need a warm body behind the console for eight hours, that kind of thing.
Kerry took our session several minutes over limit and into the next scheduled session, in fact. She dimed me into the writings of a guy named Daniel Siegel. I immediately downloaded his book Mindsight via the Kindle app on my phone. Just the introduction of the book has begun to clue me into ways of the mind working (and ways to rework it) that I had never considered. This all happened because Kerry listened to every word I said. Kerry pointed me in a direction wherein I have already been able to avail myself of greater clarity into my own thoughts and feelings. The basic principle of what I have read so far in Siegel's book is to know and put into practice the difference between BEING any given way and FEELING that way. Just because I feel sad, doesn't mean I am sad. Just because I feel like a loser doesn't mean I am a loser. Siegel seems to advance that BEING and FEELING are two completely different things. Those of you who have followed my blog recently probably can understand how freeing this kind of knowledge is for me. In fact, I told a very dear friend tonight that this may get me to a point where I quit throwing myself under the bus. I said it won't happen overnight, but that I'm already moving to a new corner where the bus doesn't come by as frequently. I need to let up on myself. I've been in self-attack mode for way too long. If a woman doesn't want to date me, or some people don't want me in their social group, its probably just their need for something different, and not something wrong with who I am. I think more people than not will probably like who I am just fine.
I also got another book entitled Party of One: the Loners' Manifesto by Anneli Rufus. This book honors the choices and ways of being for people like me who are more introverted. I am at a bit of a crossroads right now trying to figure out the best course for myself going forward, and the knowledge I am drawing from both of these books, I'm sure, will help tremendously.
I am at a crossroads because I am finding that I am not fulfilled by only going to this bar and that for open mic night. I do kinda miss going to MaGerk's on Tuesday night for trivia, but still, its a bar. While bars are great, they are not my target environment for some of the goals of my social agenda. I need to add more options to my social repertoire. I need to get involved in some kind of activity that challenges me and pushes my boundaries a little bit more.
I am also discovering that some things I believed about myself are not true at all. For instance, I believed I needed to be in a committed romantic relationship. I don't need that, I want that. I need to find a way to realize that I do, in fact, matter, and probably have mattered, unconditionally, to more people than I realized. I think that until I get a good handle on the latter, there is absolutely no sense in trying to incorporate the former. Relationships need to flourish in a psychologically healthy environment; I've seen too many potentially good ones go bad the other way.
I have even gotten my head around the confusion of feeling need for a person whom I thought it was inappropriate to feel that need for. Now, I understand that feeling of need was there because that wonderful, special other person "saw" the healthy me that I couldn't seem to see for myself. That person also would not abide my self destructive categorizations of who I am as a person. Even when my argument for being a loser was "rock solid", this person simply rejected it and walked away. I am happy and proud, and so very blessed and appreciative to be able to need this person in my life, and to count on them to be there for me, even when I'm not there for myself. There are friends, there are lovers, there are confidants. Then, there are some individuals who come along in life who are so entirely special that no label is adequate to capture the meaning and importance of who they are. That person for me is beyond amazing!
With this newfound knowledge about myself and my inner processes, there are bound to be some changes. I will probably start to re-embrace some of my more solitary pursuits, like photography, and not be so caught up in trying to change to be a social butrerfly. Maybe instead of trying to morph into some kind of socially graceful butterfly that I'm not, I can create respect within myself and others for the warm-and-fuzzy caterpillar that I am - one who is less forcedly gregarious and perhaps a bit more casually austere, but who loves people in his own unique way.
"The Heart of the Matter", Don Henley.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Invisible Touch
I went out for coffee and a bite after work. I usually stop by the diner on Saturday to hang out and talk with Erica 'til closing time. It has become a Saturday night ritual, of sorts.
There were a bunch of young high school kids at the diner, say 9th-11th grade, all dressed up in their fineries, having obviously just come from their homecoming dance. They were having a blast! I wondered to myself what they must be thinking about their present moment and their future on this particular evening. I was also wondering why young boys ever think bold, brightly colored shirts look good with a suit, but I digress. I tried to turn the clock back a quarter century and put myself in their shoes. I wanted to reconnect with my thoughts and feelings from that time in my life. I looked at the crowd of young people, but could not identify with any individual among them. At first, I was puzzled by my lack of being able to identify with the kids in their mid-teens. I mean, I was in my mid-teens once; there's no route to becoming 41 years old, other than to have been there. I contemplated my place (in a different time) among them, and then it hit me. I identified most strongly with the kid who wasn't there. I knew there must be at least one kid who was in that same spot, somewhere else alone and wanting to feel included but didn't, and I felt sad.
I feel like I've spent alot of my life "not there". I feel like I've never really fit in almost anywhere I tried to go. Those few who have accepted me are those onto whom I've imposed need . There are not many people who just want to be in my company. Although I get out frequently, it is because I work myself into situations where I don't particularly belong. I can get over on people for awhile; but, eventually, most of my friends and all of my social circles fall away. Then there are the romantic interests who seem to ferret out my lack of acceptablilty in short order. There are a few, very special individuals who truly care about me - Erica and Jack and the Jenkins clan come easily to mind - but, I don't think there are many people who like me or consider my company particularly enjoyable as any matter of regular course.
There are the dating situations and attempts at dating situations. In the last month, I have had two women - Ashley and Susan - decide that it is better to be without someone than to have to spend any of their romantic/dating/social capital on me. Not having a date, it seems, is a better choice than being stuck with me. Its not that I'm going about things the same way, then expecting a different result. That, as we all know, is the very definition of insanity. I am trying to present my best self (I've lost 50 pounds; I've polished my look) to be available for dating, and women are still taking a pass universally, it seems. That makes me wonder what bad trait it is that I have, or which good one I lack, that sends up the red flag that screams "LOSER!". I hate myself because of it.
The dynamics of my current social situation seem to be changing, and I have recently reached out in desperation to Erica to make sure she doesn't leave with the rest of the crowd, most of whom seem to be figuring out that it is better to keep their distance from this social pariah. I want very badly to not be a loser, but it seems that it is no easier for me to change that about myself than it would be for a leopard to change his spots. Eventually, everyone takes a pass on me,
Things are what they are, and I am able to accept that on face value. What confuses me is that I try to be a good person. I try to make sure I am everything people say a good dating prospect shold be. I broadcast my availability as good company, and even a good, listening friend. Over the past weekend, I was not able to find one person to spend time with on either Friday or Sunday (which happened to be my "Friday") evenings. Erica was a captive audience on Saturday. I don't lament these issues while I'm out (that's what the blog is for), and I'm definitely not a "Debbie Downer" in social situations. I can negotiate the ebb and flow of general banter as well as anyone else. So, why is it that no one really wants to make time to get to understand me?
I'm confused. I'm hurting. I'm sad. I'm at a point where I'm ready to just say, "Fuck it!".
"You Don't Know Me", Ray Charles & Diana Krall.
There were a bunch of young high school kids at the diner, say 9th-11th grade, all dressed up in their fineries, having obviously just come from their homecoming dance. They were having a blast! I wondered to myself what they must be thinking about their present moment and their future on this particular evening. I was also wondering why young boys ever think bold, brightly colored shirts look good with a suit, but I digress. I tried to turn the clock back a quarter century and put myself in their shoes. I wanted to reconnect with my thoughts and feelings from that time in my life. I looked at the crowd of young people, but could not identify with any individual among them. At first, I was puzzled by my lack of being able to identify with the kids in their mid-teens. I mean, I was in my mid-teens once; there's no route to becoming 41 years old, other than to have been there. I contemplated my place (in a different time) among them, and then it hit me. I identified most strongly with the kid who wasn't there. I knew there must be at least one kid who was in that same spot, somewhere else alone and wanting to feel included but didn't, and I felt sad.
I feel like I've spent alot of my life "not there". I feel like I've never really fit in almost anywhere I tried to go. Those few who have accepted me are those onto whom I've imposed need . There are not many people who just want to be in my company. Although I get out frequently, it is because I work myself into situations where I don't particularly belong. I can get over on people for awhile; but, eventually, most of my friends and all of my social circles fall away. Then there are the romantic interests who seem to ferret out my lack of acceptablilty in short order. There are a few, very special individuals who truly care about me - Erica and Jack and the Jenkins clan come easily to mind - but, I don't think there are many people who like me or consider my company particularly enjoyable as any matter of regular course.
There are the dating situations and attempts at dating situations. In the last month, I have had two women - Ashley and Susan - decide that it is better to be without someone than to have to spend any of their romantic/dating/social capital on me. Not having a date, it seems, is a better choice than being stuck with me. Its not that I'm going about things the same way, then expecting a different result. That, as we all know, is the very definition of insanity. I am trying to present my best self (I've lost 50 pounds; I've polished my look) to be available for dating, and women are still taking a pass universally, it seems. That makes me wonder what bad trait it is that I have, or which good one I lack, that sends up the red flag that screams "LOSER!". I hate myself because of it.
The dynamics of my current social situation seem to be changing, and I have recently reached out in desperation to Erica to make sure she doesn't leave with the rest of the crowd, most of whom seem to be figuring out that it is better to keep their distance from this social pariah. I want very badly to not be a loser, but it seems that it is no easier for me to change that about myself than it would be for a leopard to change his spots. Eventually, everyone takes a pass on me,
Things are what they are, and I am able to accept that on face value. What confuses me is that I try to be a good person. I try to make sure I am everything people say a good dating prospect shold be. I broadcast my availability as good company, and even a good, listening friend. Over the past weekend, I was not able to find one person to spend time with on either Friday or Sunday (which happened to be my "Friday") evenings. Erica was a captive audience on Saturday. I don't lament these issues while I'm out (that's what the blog is for), and I'm definitely not a "Debbie Downer" in social situations. I can negotiate the ebb and flow of general banter as well as anyone else. So, why is it that no one really wants to make time to get to understand me?
I'm confused. I'm hurting. I'm sad. I'm at a point where I'm ready to just say, "Fuck it!".
"You Don't Know Me", Ray Charles & Diana Krall.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Heartaches 101: Lessons Learned and Applied
I think the problem I ran into with my flash-in-the-pan experience with Ashley was that we got traction before we plotted any kind of direction. I don't think you necessarily have to have your journey charted with a person you are newly dating to any extent beyond a reasonable hope for a second date, but its probably a pretty good idea to resist the urge to smoke your tires coming right outta the gate. In the interest of chivalry, I'll claim a full mea culpa on this one, even if I don't really believe it all belongs to mea. Enough said. Ashley is a wonderful woman, and I wish her peace, love and happiness...just not with me.
I have been supported to the Nth degree by some awesome friends who have all stepped up tremendously. Special thanks to Stevie, Deb Dudley, Diana, Rachel and, most especially, Erica. I have also been checked on by my wonderfully caring therapist, Kerry. Kerry, you had some big shoes to fill by being the Post Vickie therapist, and everything that was wonderful about Vickie fits you like the glass slipper you deserve - you're awesome!
Since last week's less than stellar turns-of-events, I've started a really great conversation with another interesting and lovely young woman. Her name is Susan. This is where the application of lessons learned with/from/because of Ashley comes in. Susan is laid-back, fun, light-hearted. I think I'll follow her lead in those respects. They say girls just wanna have fun. Well, so do guys, too, pretty much. Pizza, beer, football, coffee, Target, movies, trivia...it all sounds good to me. I'm much more relaxed talking to Susan, and I think I'll let that relaxed feeling be my internal pace-setter, here. Its cool that we get each other's arcane 80s pop culture references. I like that.
So, there it is. The last week, or so, in a nutshell. Hell, it took me 40 years to get to a point where my mindset is healthy enough to reasonably even try to date; it might easily take me another 40 years to get good at it. And, I don't think guys will ever figure out girls, so I'm just gonna throw that all-or-nothing goal out with yesterday's news. I thought about giving up on the whole dating thing because my first dating experience with a healthy mindset didn't work out well. Well, Erica indicted me quite correctly on that one...she said I was going back to an old "attack myself" psychological comfort zone; guilty as charged, your honor!
Lesson learned with a big thanks to all, even Ashley!
"One More Try", George Michael.
I have been supported to the Nth degree by some awesome friends who have all stepped up tremendously. Special thanks to Stevie, Deb Dudley, Diana, Rachel and, most especially, Erica. I have also been checked on by my wonderfully caring therapist, Kerry. Kerry, you had some big shoes to fill by being the Post Vickie therapist, and everything that was wonderful about Vickie fits you like the glass slipper you deserve - you're awesome!
Since last week's less than stellar turns-of-events, I've started a really great conversation with another interesting and lovely young woman. Her name is Susan. This is where the application of lessons learned with/from/because of Ashley comes in. Susan is laid-back, fun, light-hearted. I think I'll follow her lead in those respects. They say girls just wanna have fun. Well, so do guys, too, pretty much. Pizza, beer, football, coffee, Target, movies, trivia...it all sounds good to me. I'm much more relaxed talking to Susan, and I think I'll let that relaxed feeling be my internal pace-setter, here. Its cool that we get each other's arcane 80s pop culture references. I like that.
So, there it is. The last week, or so, in a nutshell. Hell, it took me 40 years to get to a point where my mindset is healthy enough to reasonably even try to date; it might easily take me another 40 years to get good at it. And, I don't think guys will ever figure out girls, so I'm just gonna throw that all-or-nothing goal out with yesterday's news. I thought about giving up on the whole dating thing because my first dating experience with a healthy mindset didn't work out well. Well, Erica indicted me quite correctly on that one...she said I was going back to an old "attack myself" psychological comfort zone; guilty as charged, your honor!
Lesson learned with a big thanks to all, even Ashley!
"One More Try", George Michael.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Depression: An Inside Perspective
I am fighting a bout of depression right now that is pretty nasty. People are telling me to snap out of it. It ain't that simple.
Depression is a disease like any other. When someone is depressed, telling them to snap out of it is like telling someone with a cold or the flu to just not be sick...as though it were a choice. For those going through major depressive episodes, which I occasionally do, folks tell you to concentrate on the good in your life. Well, that's like telling a cancer patient to just focus on all those other cells in your body that are healthy.
I think people who feel most deeply tend to hurt the worst. It only makes sense that that would be true. Well, I'm hurting pretty badly right now. So, forgive me if I can't seem to "just snap out of it" or miracle myself instantaneously back to health; but also, please try to understand that these things take time.
The good news is that these episodes, just like a cold or the flu, just need to run their course. The patient will recover gradually. I've been through this. I know what's involved. And, if you don't judge people who are ill with colds, flu or other disease, please do not judge me for my disease.
"Unwell", Matchbox 20.
Depression is a disease like any other. When someone is depressed, telling them to snap out of it is like telling someone with a cold or the flu to just not be sick...as though it were a choice. For those going through major depressive episodes, which I occasionally do, folks tell you to concentrate on the good in your life. Well, that's like telling a cancer patient to just focus on all those other cells in your body that are healthy.
I think people who feel most deeply tend to hurt the worst. It only makes sense that that would be true. Well, I'm hurting pretty badly right now. So, forgive me if I can't seem to "just snap out of it" or miracle myself instantaneously back to health; but also, please try to understand that these things take time.
The good news is that these episodes, just like a cold or the flu, just need to run their course. The patient will recover gradually. I've been through this. I know what's involved. And, if you don't judge people who are ill with colds, flu or other disease, please do not judge me for my disease.
"Unwell", Matchbox 20.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
It Ain't Her, Babe
I have put the Ashley-specific part of my most recent "break-up" behind me. I have convinced my family, friends and coworkers that I am okay.
I'm not okay. The problem is that my problem is not Ashley-specific. My problem is constant rejection. All the women I have ever tried to date all reach the same inevitable conclusion: I have no worth as a romantic consideration. I want romantic consideration. That's a problem. I think I need to resign myself to the fact that it can't be everybody else. I'm an ugly, worthless loser.
People try to console by saying there are alot of people "in the same boat". Well, there are probably "boats" loaded with people who just couldn't ever seem to figure out how to handle it, too. I guess when I ultimately surrender to my increasingly evident loser status, that will be something that also happens to alot of people.
"Comfortably Numb", Pink Floyd.
I'm not okay. The problem is that my problem is not Ashley-specific. My problem is constant rejection. All the women I have ever tried to date all reach the same inevitable conclusion: I have no worth as a romantic consideration. I want romantic consideration. That's a problem. I think I need to resign myself to the fact that it can't be everybody else. I'm an ugly, worthless loser.
People try to console by saying there are alot of people "in the same boat". Well, there are probably "boats" loaded with people who just couldn't ever seem to figure out how to handle it, too. I guess when I ultimately surrender to my increasingly evident loser status, that will be something that also happens to alot of people.
"Comfortably Numb", Pink Floyd.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Love-Me Knots
When things go wrong in life, people say trite but well-intentioned things. I think they do this to get you to tell them that you will be alright. I think they try, for the person who has been hurt or for themselves or maybe for all of the above, to route a detour around the process of feeling the sting. I don't want to take the detour; I need to feel the hurt. You think I'm just staring out the window; but, really, I'm looking closely at the pain.
Sooner rather than later, this all will have been put behind me, but for the time being it just has to suck. I have it logically figured out. I have repeated the process enough times under different conditions and circumstances, but always produced the same result of my not being worth considering as a romantic partner. That's just the way it is. I have alot of things going for me. Unfortunately, romantic acumen is not one of those things.
There are those special friends among you who will feel the need to try to convince me otherwise; don't. I know it comes from a good place, but the theory always ends up going the wrong way down the same dead-end street. And, chances are, I can argue my point, with the assistance of the company I don't have, better than you can argue yours. Yes, its about the journey; but, sometimes, you have to surrender to the need to pick a different destination because the one you originally intended is wholly inaccesible.
That's where I am.
"Lost Cause", Beck.
Sooner rather than later, this all will have been put behind me, but for the time being it just has to suck. I have it logically figured out. I have repeated the process enough times under different conditions and circumstances, but always produced the same result of my not being worth considering as a romantic partner. That's just the way it is. I have alot of things going for me. Unfortunately, romantic acumen is not one of those things.
There are those special friends among you who will feel the need to try to convince me otherwise; don't. I know it comes from a good place, but the theory always ends up going the wrong way down the same dead-end street. And, chances are, I can argue my point, with the assistance of the company I don't have, better than you can argue yours. Yes, its about the journey; but, sometimes, you have to surrender to the need to pick a different destination because the one you originally intended is wholly inaccesible.
That's where I am.
"Lost Cause", Beck.
She Took the "A" Train
Ashley finally took off those rose colored glasses she had been seeing me through, as I suspected that she might. When she did, she found whatever loser trait or lack of quality all the women I've tried to date have found. I wish I knew what that quality was; I'd work it in to my repertoire.
Oh well, it was sorta fun while it lasted...
"One For My Baby", Frank Sinatra.
Oh well, it was sorta fun while it lasted...
"One For My Baby", Frank Sinatra.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Knockin' on Heaven's Door
I have been trying to figure out how to broach the duplicity of being involved with another individual with my penchant for full disclosure of my own feelings here on the blog. The only thing I can come up with is, Ashley chooses to spend time with me. The me that she got to know originally was the blogging variety of me, so I don't see why that should change. In brief, I'm back!
These few weeks since my first date with Ashley have been some of the most exhilarating and also some of the most nerve wracking days I have ever enjoyed. As time has moved along, there have come instances in my interactions with Ashley that have given me pause for thought. Many of those thoughts are good and warm and fuzzy and sweetly romantic and make me feel like a kid with a gorgeous high school sweetheart. Some other feelings cause some degree of concern.
Ashley is beautiful, and I couldn't consider myself a more lucky guy for having her company and companionship. The old me wonders when she will quit seeing me through whatever rose colored glasses she's wearing and realize that I'm nobody's bargain. Ashley is very self-reliant and fiercely independent; I admire those qualities about her. When she looks for help that is just what she wants - help - not someone to do something for her. I have been able to help Ashley get some things done, and it felt great! I am notoriously known to be not a team player, but the two of us working together feels, to me, like the unified and seamless experience of a shortstop and second baseman in a perfectly turned 6-4-3 double play.
Ashley seems to be afraid of labels. She has gone to great lengths to tell certain individuals (her kids and certain of her coworkers) that I am not her boyfriend. She frequently does this while I'm present and I could just cringe. Ashley is the one who said first that she would not date other guys now that we are where we are in our shared experience. I reciprocated, of course, and gladly! Ashley has placed a self-imposed restriction against seeing other people, but says that I'm not her boyfriend. Now, I know its just a few weeks into this thing, and I know the initial spark of attraction came on very suddenly. Remember, I'm the one thinking that spark could be doused at any time.
I don't need labels. I don't need Ashley to call me her boyfriend, at this point, anymore than I need her to call me her gardener. What I would like, though, is to know where I stand. Does she see me as potential boyfriend material, or have I been relegated to her "friend zone"? Again, I don't need her to go around saying I am her boyfriend, but I do need her to not go around saying I'm not. If she is not comfortable with those labels, that's understandable; but, I'd prefer that she just didn't say anything, so that we could figure it out between ourselves. Also, we predominantly communicate via text message. I know its the new way, but I'm an old fashioned guy. I want to hear the lyricality of her voice. I want to listen to her breathe. I want to be with her, not in the physical sense, but just in the sense of in-the-moment being.
I feel intensely, and I wear my heart on my sleeve. I have made it abundantly clear to Ashley that she passes every test that I would ever need anyone to pass in order for me to know that she is someone worthy of my investment of emotion. I am neither nuanced nor coy, and I do not couch feelings well, especially not these feelings. When I first started seeing Vickie, we discovered quickly that I had become disconnected from my emotions and had lived that way for nearly thirty years. I isolated myself within the confines of strong barrier walls against feeling. I compartmentalized each area of my life rigidly, so that family didn't affect friends didn't affect work didn't affect romantic interests didn't affect school, and so on. Then, when I stopped compartmentalizing, I really stopped compartmentalizing. Its like I have been trying to make up for the thirty years of lost time and feelings. Its the best I know how to do - how to be - at this point.
My father had a seizure this morning. He is currently in the hospital and being checked for pneumonia, West Nile virus and a heart problem. Dad was in a bad way this morning. It brought home one of my biggest fears, having to die alone and lonely. Well, I think I have largely won the battle against loneliness; but, given the choice, I'd still rather not die alone. I want to grow old with someone. I don't need for Ashley to specifically be that individual (though that, so far, would be just fine with me), but I do need to date in a way that will bring me to a point that puts me with the specific woman who is that very special person who will walk me up to Heaven and kiss me goodbye at the gate. In short, I cannot be wasting years of my life dating someone who is not that person. Months seems fair, but with a cap of about a year or so to figure it out. So, that's where I am with my approach to dating. I'm not sure if Ashley is in that same ballpark with her approach to dating, or not. I think that kind of intensity and drive might scare off a lot of potentially signigicant others. In order to be true to myself, I have to find the one it does not frighten.
Ben Stein once said: "The indispensible first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want.". Although I'm not ready to attach any name - familiar or unknown - to this goal, this is what I want:
"Grow Old With Me", Mary Chapin Carpenter.
These few weeks since my first date with Ashley have been some of the most exhilarating and also some of the most nerve wracking days I have ever enjoyed. As time has moved along, there have come instances in my interactions with Ashley that have given me pause for thought. Many of those thoughts are good and warm and fuzzy and sweetly romantic and make me feel like a kid with a gorgeous high school sweetheart. Some other feelings cause some degree of concern.
Ashley is beautiful, and I couldn't consider myself a more lucky guy for having her company and companionship. The old me wonders when she will quit seeing me through whatever rose colored glasses she's wearing and realize that I'm nobody's bargain. Ashley is very self-reliant and fiercely independent; I admire those qualities about her. When she looks for help that is just what she wants - help - not someone to do something for her. I have been able to help Ashley get some things done, and it felt great! I am notoriously known to be not a team player, but the two of us working together feels, to me, like the unified and seamless experience of a shortstop and second baseman in a perfectly turned 6-4-3 double play.
Ashley seems to be afraid of labels. She has gone to great lengths to tell certain individuals (her kids and certain of her coworkers) that I am not her boyfriend. She frequently does this while I'm present and I could just cringe. Ashley is the one who said first that she would not date other guys now that we are where we are in our shared experience. I reciprocated, of course, and gladly! Ashley has placed a self-imposed restriction against seeing other people, but says that I'm not her boyfriend. Now, I know its just a few weeks into this thing, and I know the initial spark of attraction came on very suddenly. Remember, I'm the one thinking that spark could be doused at any time.
I don't need labels. I don't need Ashley to call me her boyfriend, at this point, anymore than I need her to call me her gardener. What I would like, though, is to know where I stand. Does she see me as potential boyfriend material, or have I been relegated to her "friend zone"? Again, I don't need her to go around saying I am her boyfriend, but I do need her to not go around saying I'm not. If she is not comfortable with those labels, that's understandable; but, I'd prefer that she just didn't say anything, so that we could figure it out between ourselves. Also, we predominantly communicate via text message. I know its the new way, but I'm an old fashioned guy. I want to hear the lyricality of her voice. I want to listen to her breathe. I want to be with her, not in the physical sense, but just in the sense of in-the-moment being.
I feel intensely, and I wear my heart on my sleeve. I have made it abundantly clear to Ashley that she passes every test that I would ever need anyone to pass in order for me to know that she is someone worthy of my investment of emotion. I am neither nuanced nor coy, and I do not couch feelings well, especially not these feelings. When I first started seeing Vickie, we discovered quickly that I had become disconnected from my emotions and had lived that way for nearly thirty years. I isolated myself within the confines of strong barrier walls against feeling. I compartmentalized each area of my life rigidly, so that family didn't affect friends didn't affect work didn't affect romantic interests didn't affect school, and so on. Then, when I stopped compartmentalizing, I really stopped compartmentalizing. Its like I have been trying to make up for the thirty years of lost time and feelings. Its the best I know how to do - how to be - at this point.
My father had a seizure this morning. He is currently in the hospital and being checked for pneumonia, West Nile virus and a heart problem. Dad was in a bad way this morning. It brought home one of my biggest fears, having to die alone and lonely. Well, I think I have largely won the battle against loneliness; but, given the choice, I'd still rather not die alone. I want to grow old with someone. I don't need for Ashley to specifically be that individual (though that, so far, would be just fine with me), but I do need to date in a way that will bring me to a point that puts me with the specific woman who is that very special person who will walk me up to Heaven and kiss me goodbye at the gate. In short, I cannot be wasting years of my life dating someone who is not that person. Months seems fair, but with a cap of about a year or so to figure it out. So, that's where I am with my approach to dating. I'm not sure if Ashley is in that same ballpark with her approach to dating, or not. I think that kind of intensity and drive might scare off a lot of potentially signigicant others. In order to be true to myself, I have to find the one it does not frighten.
Ben Stein once said: "The indispensible first step to getting the things you want out of life is this: Decide what you want.". Although I'm not ready to attach any name - familiar or unknown - to this goal, this is what I want:
"Grow Old With Me", Mary Chapin Carpenter.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
We'll Always Have Peerce's
Of all the java joints, in all the towns, in all the world, I walk into hers. I had a date with an angel last night, and her name is Ashley!
Ashley is amazing! She is beautiful and considerate and kind and fun and fantastic! She went to monumental effort to put together an outfit for our date last night; consequently, she was always the only woman in the room all evening, or so it seemed to me. I'm still a bit over-the-top smitten this morning, but what the hell! I like it!
When I arrived last night to pick Ashley up at her house, she was worried 'cause she was running a bit late. She was repeatedly apologetic, which I assured her she didn't need to be. I tried to get her to stop saying she was sorry, but then she apologized for that. Like I said, amazingly considerate. I adjusted the restaurant reservation time, and everything worked out fine. We had dinner at Peerce's Landing and it was delicious. Try the sirloin tips, and the Crabatini appetizer is to die for!
I pulled out one of the moves I hold in reserve for special occasions or a very special woman, two considerations which each applied equally last night. The tactic is kinda Sean Connery-esque, and I discovered it in my ever-trusty copy of Dating for Dummies under the inset heading of "Mr Smoothie" (p. 164). It impressed me when I read it, so I employ it sometimes, albeit sparingly. Basically, you just give the restaurant manager your credit card information a day ahead of time and tell them to add a certain percentage to the total for the tip. Then when dinner is done and the plates are cleared, you can simply get up and go.
Conversation with Ashley, last night, was incredibly engaging, interesting and never, at any time, awkward or sparse or dull. I didn't feel any pressure to be able to keep our conversation moving along, all credit to my lovely companion. I never felt the need to consult the proverbial dating-to-English dictionatry to figure out what she was talking about. In fact, I don't think either of us needed to clarify any point of our conversation last night. I think the fact that we both acknowledged a little case of nerves from the get-go went a long way to quelling said nerves, and enabling free-flowing and relaxed communication.
Ashley is a lady, through and through! Incredibly lovely and enjoys being treated with the requesite respect due a lady. She enjoys having doors held for her, a gentleman standing when she enters a room, and having her cigarette lighted. None of this diminishes her sense of independence or strength as a person, and only adds to her classicly lady-like and beguiling allure. She has a predominant sense of grace, style and class, with just enough of a hint of roughness on an edge or two to make her also seem incredibly down-to-earth, non-threatening and approachable.
So, we left the restaurant and headed for the dance venue. The people were nice and the lesson was fun. When it comes to tripping the light fantastic...well, let's just say I'm obviously not light, nor particularly fantastic. I'm quite certain that Ashley must be a Ginger-Rogers-in-waiting, but being paired up with me and my two left feet, she lacked the proper showcase to give evidence of her dancing acumen. We left the dance hall shortly after 9, and I took her home.
When I used to imagine the ideal woman, she was not half as wonderful as Ashley! For however long she graces my life with her company, I will have truly been blessed. Ashley makes me happy. Its not just because she is pretty and smart and funny and kind, all of which are very true, btw. It is because she has reconnected me with some interests that brought me a great deal of happiness before we ever met. Her companionship at every level thus far enjoyed has restored my confidence as a gentleman worthy of the company of a wonderful woman! The fact that it is Ashley, in particular, with whom I get to enjoy that company has restored my confidence in God's plan and good luck.
I told Ashley I have two tickets to an upcoming performance of the BSO at the Meyerhoff; she is trying to get the night off so that she can go with me. On the way back to her house, which is very nicely decorated, btw, she figured out that the next night we are both off is next Sunday. She asked if I might be interested in getting together then. I told there was no "might" about it, I am in.
Play it again, Sam!
"As Time Goes By", Jimmy Durante.
Ashley is amazing! She is beautiful and considerate and kind and fun and fantastic! She went to monumental effort to put together an outfit for our date last night; consequently, she was always the only woman in the room all evening, or so it seemed to me. I'm still a bit over-the-top smitten this morning, but what the hell! I like it!
When I arrived last night to pick Ashley up at her house, she was worried 'cause she was running a bit late. She was repeatedly apologetic, which I assured her she didn't need to be. I tried to get her to stop saying she was sorry, but then she apologized for that. Like I said, amazingly considerate. I adjusted the restaurant reservation time, and everything worked out fine. We had dinner at Peerce's Landing and it was delicious. Try the sirloin tips, and the Crabatini appetizer is to die for!
I pulled out one of the moves I hold in reserve for special occasions or a very special woman, two considerations which each applied equally last night. The tactic is kinda Sean Connery-esque, and I discovered it in my ever-trusty copy of Dating for Dummies under the inset heading of "Mr Smoothie" (p. 164). It impressed me when I read it, so I employ it sometimes, albeit sparingly. Basically, you just give the restaurant manager your credit card information a day ahead of time and tell them to add a certain percentage to the total for the tip. Then when dinner is done and the plates are cleared, you can simply get up and go.
Conversation with Ashley, last night, was incredibly engaging, interesting and never, at any time, awkward or sparse or dull. I didn't feel any pressure to be able to keep our conversation moving along, all credit to my lovely companion. I never felt the need to consult the proverbial dating-to-English dictionatry to figure out what she was talking about. In fact, I don't think either of us needed to clarify any point of our conversation last night. I think the fact that we both acknowledged a little case of nerves from the get-go went a long way to quelling said nerves, and enabling free-flowing and relaxed communication.
Ashley is a lady, through and through! Incredibly lovely and enjoys being treated with the requesite respect due a lady. She enjoys having doors held for her, a gentleman standing when she enters a room, and having her cigarette lighted. None of this diminishes her sense of independence or strength as a person, and only adds to her classicly lady-like and beguiling allure. She has a predominant sense of grace, style and class, with just enough of a hint of roughness on an edge or two to make her also seem incredibly down-to-earth, non-threatening and approachable.
So, we left the restaurant and headed for the dance venue. The people were nice and the lesson was fun. When it comes to tripping the light fantastic...well, let's just say I'm obviously not light, nor particularly fantastic. I'm quite certain that Ashley must be a Ginger-Rogers-in-waiting, but being paired up with me and my two left feet, she lacked the proper showcase to give evidence of her dancing acumen. We left the dance hall shortly after 9, and I took her home.
When I used to imagine the ideal woman, she was not half as wonderful as Ashley! For however long she graces my life with her company, I will have truly been blessed. Ashley makes me happy. Its not just because she is pretty and smart and funny and kind, all of which are very true, btw. It is because she has reconnected me with some interests that brought me a great deal of happiness before we ever met. Her companionship at every level thus far enjoyed has restored my confidence as a gentleman worthy of the company of a wonderful woman! The fact that it is Ashley, in particular, with whom I get to enjoy that company has restored my confidence in God's plan and good luck.
I told Ashley I have two tickets to an upcoming performance of the BSO at the Meyerhoff; she is trying to get the night off so that she can go with me. On the way back to her house, which is very nicely decorated, btw, she figured out that the next night we are both off is next Sunday. She asked if I might be interested in getting together then. I told there was no "might" about it, I am in.
Play it again, Sam!
"As Time Goes By", Jimmy Durante.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Happy Days
There is a blue moon this month. I have a date this month. Coincidence? I think, maybe...not-so-much. I'm happy.
I stopped by the diner to chat-up Ashley last night. She had on some crazy-cool cat eye glasses. Her retro is just so in-tune with almost everything I'm all about. I told her I needed her number; she immidiately wrote down her home number, cell number, and address on an order pad and gave it to me straightaway. I asked her to go dancing next Saturday; she immediately asked for that Saturday off so she could come out with me. She thought of my time and the opportunity to share my company as important! Its getting more and more difficult to think she's only being sweet and not interested in us getting to know each other. I'm happy.
Now, I am not going on any far-flung flights-of-fancy about where this thing between the two of us is going. I'm not even sure this thing is going anywhere. I am just now getting comfortable thinking there is even a thing. I'm happy.
I guess the next chapter is the getting-to-know each other chapter. That sounds like so much fun to me. And, not thinking too far out, it would be kinda nice to have a gal around to help me celebrate my birthday next month - at dinner, or a show, or both. Its the idea of having somebody around to be able to talk to on a certain level that is not necessarily limited to any individual concept like romance or friendship or mutual intellectual and artistic interest - but, instead, all of that - that is what has me floating through this whole week on cloud nine. I'm happy.
So it looks like I have accomplished my goal. It looks like I actually am acceptable dating material. I think I suspected it; and, many of my friends never, ever doubted it. This time, though, I got it in writing. And, yes, I'm happy!
"Blue Moon", Dean Martin.
I stopped by the diner to chat-up Ashley last night. She had on some crazy-cool cat eye glasses. Her retro is just so in-tune with almost everything I'm all about. I told her I needed her number; she immidiately wrote down her home number, cell number, and address on an order pad and gave it to me straightaway. I asked her to go dancing next Saturday; she immediately asked for that Saturday off so she could come out with me. She thought of my time and the opportunity to share my company as important! Its getting more and more difficult to think she's only being sweet and not interested in us getting to know each other. I'm happy.
Now, I am not going on any far-flung flights-of-fancy about where this thing between the two of us is going. I'm not even sure this thing is going anywhere. I am just now getting comfortable thinking there is even a thing. I'm happy.
I guess the next chapter is the getting-to-know each other chapter. That sounds like so much fun to me. And, not thinking too far out, it would be kinda nice to have a gal around to help me celebrate my birthday next month - at dinner, or a show, or both. Its the idea of having somebody around to be able to talk to on a certain level that is not necessarily limited to any individual concept like romance or friendship or mutual intellectual and artistic interest - but, instead, all of that - that is what has me floating through this whole week on cloud nine. I'm happy.
So it looks like I have accomplished my goal. It looks like I actually am acceptable dating material. I think I suspected it; and, many of my friends never, ever doubted it. This time, though, I got it in writing. And, yes, I'm happy!
"Blue Moon", Dean Martin.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Back to the Present
It is amazing to me the mysterious ways in which God works!
I have known for a long time that I have wanted to find a woman with whom I am sympatico. Call it a soulmate, a girlfriend, a lover, a confidant, whatever. I want somebody like that in my life, not because I need a very exclusive fan club (even with both of us present, many times, she might be my only fan), but because I want someone there in whom I can invest the love and trust that lives inside me, and there's alot.
The first part of my life has not been a bed of roses. There was alot of emotional turmoil. I wanted to do things differently from the people in my family who hurt me, and who hurt each other; like I said, there was alot of negative energy. In 2007, I was nearly at my rope's end trying to figure out how to reconcile negative energy and positive intentions. That, for those of you who don't know the whole story, is when my friend Dawn suggested I find a good therapist. Well, having never been in therapy, the fate of it all was in God's hands and He matched me up with Vickie. I think it speaks volumes as to my opinion of her that this blog is named in her honor. Then, when she took her leave, I had the good sense to know, with God's help, what to look for in a new therapist. I found Kerry. Let's just say The Man Upstairs is 2-for-2, with both at-bats yielding home runs!
Back to my part of the story. People told me that in order for anyone else to accept me, I first needed to learn to love myself. Well, being a naturally self-depricating smart-ass and cynic, that made no damned sense to me at all. I didn't think it would work. Two or three sessions in, Vickie discovered a severe disconnect between me and my emotions. She helped me rewire the connections - the main ones first. Wow!
I have taken all of the negative energy and created a detoxification plant for it within me. Well, the detoxed, negative energy was converted to love and kept having to be stored up. I used alot of it to help mend a fence with a family member that had been nearly 30 years broken. Then I looked, and there was more love than when I started to put things right between me and my father. I still had never learned to spend it on myself. Slowly, that changed.
It started changing when I cried out to Dawn for help, and admitted to myself, her, and God, that I wasn't in a place to be able to fix these things alone. I knew I was in for a battle. I used a multi-pronged attack of therapy, and friendship, and prayer, and social reconnection. I think, all glory to God, that the social reconnection strategy has been the most effective tool in my aresenal. I spent most of my life dwelling on what I was not. I didn't want to be my dad. I worked in law enforcement, but I wasn't a cop. The spin on everything was negative.
I went to church. I also started going places when I would otherwise just have rushed back home or hidden out behind my camera. I drew from some of my photo school friendships heavily. It started with Dawn, but my healing was helped along by Jack and Alison and Chris and Lou and Veronica and Isabell and Nicole and Jenn and Colleen and Macao and Jeff, among many others. I started feeling social acceptance from these people. However, it was not until one night several years ago when I decided to make a friend that night and met Erica that things really began to turn around dramatically.
Erica, and subsequently, many of her friends accepted me into their circle. These people didn't know me from Adam. I didn't really have to get good grades, or be a good dispatcher, or produce prize-winning photographs, they just liked me! I didn't know people could just like me. I wasn't even sure if I could just like me. Maybe I had been likable - and, indeed, was liked - without having to do all the other things all along. What? WHAT! I guess I always assumed it was conditional.
Unconditional love and acceptance is one of the most humbling realizations you can get to if you don't have it. During my time disconnected from my emotions there was very little within me that could bring about feelings of happiness, peace and contentment and/or provide some kind of catharsus. Some of the few things were music, heady discussion, history, ironing, great art and vacuuming. For some reason - I think because of the unparalleled need for hope in its truest sense - music and art from the 1930s and 1940s resonated with me, even as a young man in college. I was mesmerized by swing and big band and men in suits and hats and women wearing stockings with the line up the back and pin-up girls. It all seemed like a good time. I think it is less than slightly coincidental that all of these things existed before me or anyone in my immediate family-of-origin. Back then, I think I believed the world might have been better off without me having ever been in it. But I got to a point where I think it is a blessing to be here to accomplish God's will with the time He has so graciously given me. The big picture was and is coming close to achieving razor-sharp focus.
So, enter Ashley. I've been looking for a woman person to be that one special friend. I don't know if she's it, but the positive attention I have gotten from her is amazingly appropriated. She's not just any woman. She has the capacity and apparent compassion to understand a tough past. She is into the 1940s era stuff I enjoy so much. She's also petite, friendly, funny and pretty. She kinda reminds me of a cross between Lucille Ball and Audrey Meadows. Things that I thought (and maybe, indeed, do) make me seem like a dork to most other people, she also enjoys; there is that hint of "sympaticism". Her invitation to go swing dancing has launched me into a rediscovered indulgence of those few things that used to connect me to my emotions when I, myself, was cut off from them. I'm having so damn much fun revisiting the things that used to bring me happiness when I didn't even realize that's what I was looking for and needfully craving, that it makes me thankful and proud to be my own kinda dork. The fact that I get to share this with a gal like Ashley, at whatever level, and for however long, is just the cherry on top the sundae. This woman has made me fall in love with myself, and she validates my interests in a way that, because of her approval, makes those things seem really cool!
Put it this way, I'm so happy that today I ironed nearly everything in my closet!
"Things Ain't What They Used to Be", Duke Ellington.
I have known for a long time that I have wanted to find a woman with whom I am sympatico. Call it a soulmate, a girlfriend, a lover, a confidant, whatever. I want somebody like that in my life, not because I need a very exclusive fan club (even with both of us present, many times, she might be my only fan), but because I want someone there in whom I can invest the love and trust that lives inside me, and there's alot.
The first part of my life has not been a bed of roses. There was alot of emotional turmoil. I wanted to do things differently from the people in my family who hurt me, and who hurt each other; like I said, there was alot of negative energy. In 2007, I was nearly at my rope's end trying to figure out how to reconcile negative energy and positive intentions. That, for those of you who don't know the whole story, is when my friend Dawn suggested I find a good therapist. Well, having never been in therapy, the fate of it all was in God's hands and He matched me up with Vickie. I think it speaks volumes as to my opinion of her that this blog is named in her honor. Then, when she took her leave, I had the good sense to know, with God's help, what to look for in a new therapist. I found Kerry. Let's just say The Man Upstairs is 2-for-2, with both at-bats yielding home runs!
Back to my part of the story. People told me that in order for anyone else to accept me, I first needed to learn to love myself. Well, being a naturally self-depricating smart-ass and cynic, that made no damned sense to me at all. I didn't think it would work. Two or three sessions in, Vickie discovered a severe disconnect between me and my emotions. She helped me rewire the connections - the main ones first. Wow!
I have taken all of the negative energy and created a detoxification plant for it within me. Well, the detoxed, negative energy was converted to love and kept having to be stored up. I used alot of it to help mend a fence with a family member that had been nearly 30 years broken. Then I looked, and there was more love than when I started to put things right between me and my father. I still had never learned to spend it on myself. Slowly, that changed.
It started changing when I cried out to Dawn for help, and admitted to myself, her, and God, that I wasn't in a place to be able to fix these things alone. I knew I was in for a battle. I used a multi-pronged attack of therapy, and friendship, and prayer, and social reconnection. I think, all glory to God, that the social reconnection strategy has been the most effective tool in my aresenal. I spent most of my life dwelling on what I was not. I didn't want to be my dad. I worked in law enforcement, but I wasn't a cop. The spin on everything was negative.
I went to church. I also started going places when I would otherwise just have rushed back home or hidden out behind my camera. I drew from some of my photo school friendships heavily. It started with Dawn, but my healing was helped along by Jack and Alison and Chris and Lou and Veronica and Isabell and Nicole and Jenn and Colleen and Macao and Jeff, among many others. I started feeling social acceptance from these people. However, it was not until one night several years ago when I decided to make a friend that night and met Erica that things really began to turn around dramatically.
Erica, and subsequently, many of her friends accepted me into their circle. These people didn't know me from Adam. I didn't really have to get good grades, or be a good dispatcher, or produce prize-winning photographs, they just liked me! I didn't know people could just like me. I wasn't even sure if I could just like me. Maybe I had been likable - and, indeed, was liked - without having to do all the other things all along. What? WHAT! I guess I always assumed it was conditional.
Unconditional love and acceptance is one of the most humbling realizations you can get to if you don't have it. During my time disconnected from my emotions there was very little within me that could bring about feelings of happiness, peace and contentment and/or provide some kind of catharsus. Some of the few things were music, heady discussion, history, ironing, great art and vacuuming. For some reason - I think because of the unparalleled need for hope in its truest sense - music and art from the 1930s and 1940s resonated with me, even as a young man in college. I was mesmerized by swing and big band and men in suits and hats and women wearing stockings with the line up the back and pin-up girls. It all seemed like a good time. I think it is less than slightly coincidental that all of these things existed before me or anyone in my immediate family-of-origin. Back then, I think I believed the world might have been better off without me having ever been in it. But I got to a point where I think it is a blessing to be here to accomplish God's will with the time He has so graciously given me. The big picture was and is coming close to achieving razor-sharp focus.
So, enter Ashley. I've been looking for a woman person to be that one special friend. I don't know if she's it, but the positive attention I have gotten from her is amazingly appropriated. She's not just any woman. She has the capacity and apparent compassion to understand a tough past. She is into the 1940s era stuff I enjoy so much. She's also petite, friendly, funny and pretty. She kinda reminds me of a cross between Lucille Ball and Audrey Meadows. Things that I thought (and maybe, indeed, do) make me seem like a dork to most other people, she also enjoys; there is that hint of "sympaticism". Her invitation to go swing dancing has launched me into a rediscovered indulgence of those few things that used to connect me to my emotions when I, myself, was cut off from them. I'm having so damn much fun revisiting the things that used to bring me happiness when I didn't even realize that's what I was looking for and needfully craving, that it makes me thankful and proud to be my own kinda dork. The fact that I get to share this with a gal like Ashley, at whatever level, and for however long, is just the cherry on top the sundae. This woman has made me fall in love with myself, and she validates my interests in a way that, because of her approval, makes those things seem really cool!
Put it this way, I'm so happy that today I ironed nearly everything in my closet!
"Things Ain't What They Used to Be", Duke Ellington.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
The Present is a Gift
Vickie, I luv ya! Erica, I luv ya! Ashley, I get the biggest kick out of you and your different nuances and peculiar traits! You're aces, darlin'!
First things first. Vickie let me know that she and the family are well, and just coming off some well-deserved vacation time. I am so happy!
So, a few posts back I mentioned a gal named Ashley who works at the Double T Diner in Bel Air. I think a good portion of Heaven's angels must surely be diner waitresses! I said I wasn't anticipating any kind of connection with Ashley; but when a beautiful woman has a penchant for 1940's vintage pop art, culture (she knew Jimmy Durante as "The Schnoz" - bestill!), music and fashion...well, how can I help but to try to create a connection - at some level - with a gal like that. If she were a guy, all those interests would catapult her to the front of the drinkin' buddy/best friend pack. Just sayin'. Suffice it to say, she's cool! Ashley has this little squeak to her voice that could melt the Tin Man's heart, but I digress. Anyway, I've been making a bit of an effort to try to get her attention, lately. Then, last week, I ran across a pair of earrings that I knew she'd buy for herself, had she seen them first - lucite pink poodles, of all things. They weren't very expensive, but they were so totally her! It would have been wrong to not get them; so, I did. I gave them to her tonight and she really enjoyed them. Then, she invited me to go swing dancin'. While it is no more (or no less - 'cause swing/big band is right up my alley) than what it is, her invitation put me on Cloud 9 for the rest of this evening, just to think someone as cool as her wants to keep my company! There might have even been a coupla woo-hoos and yee-haws in the car on my way home. Perhaps. Okay, there were.
More good news! My friend Lynn is coming back to town this week, and I'm off from work while she's here. Lynn is really cool, too - mostly by way of playful annoyance and irreverent sarcasm! Her company, last time she was in town, let me know that my heart still had the room and desire for a wonderful, beautiful love, confidant, co-conspirator and very special best friend. So, I owe my buddy Lynn a debt of gratitude I'll never be able to properly repay. She's awesome! She and I, and our friend Vickie and her fiance are all going to an Orioles game on Wednesday evening. I honestly cannot wait to hang out with these fine, wonderful people, all of whom I love and admire greatly!
It would be greatly remiss of me to not give all the honor and glory of my wonderful good fortune back to its undeniable source, the Good Lord in Heaven above. Many of you know that I have been having "issues" with God, lately. Once again, His way and His timing are the better option. You think I'd learn...
Tonight - in this moment - life is fun and I am happy!
"Jump Jive An' Wail", Brian Setzer Orchestra.
First things first. Vickie let me know that she and the family are well, and just coming off some well-deserved vacation time. I am so happy!
So, a few posts back I mentioned a gal named Ashley who works at the Double T Diner in Bel Air. I think a good portion of Heaven's angels must surely be diner waitresses! I said I wasn't anticipating any kind of connection with Ashley; but when a beautiful woman has a penchant for 1940's vintage pop art, culture (she knew Jimmy Durante as "The Schnoz" - bestill!), music and fashion...well, how can I help but to try to create a connection - at some level - with a gal like that. If she were a guy, all those interests would catapult her to the front of the drinkin' buddy/best friend pack. Just sayin'. Suffice it to say, she's cool! Ashley has this little squeak to her voice that could melt the Tin Man's heart, but I digress. Anyway, I've been making a bit of an effort to try to get her attention, lately. Then, last week, I ran across a pair of earrings that I knew she'd buy for herself, had she seen them first - lucite pink poodles, of all things. They weren't very expensive, but they were so totally her! It would have been wrong to not get them; so, I did. I gave them to her tonight and she really enjoyed them. Then, she invited me to go swing dancin'. While it is no more (or no less - 'cause swing/big band is right up my alley) than what it is, her invitation put me on Cloud 9 for the rest of this evening, just to think someone as cool as her wants to keep my company! There might have even been a coupla woo-hoos and yee-haws in the car on my way home. Perhaps. Okay, there were.
More good news! My friend Lynn is coming back to town this week, and I'm off from work while she's here. Lynn is really cool, too - mostly by way of playful annoyance and irreverent sarcasm! Her company, last time she was in town, let me know that my heart still had the room and desire for a wonderful, beautiful love, confidant, co-conspirator and very special best friend. So, I owe my buddy Lynn a debt of gratitude I'll never be able to properly repay. She's awesome! She and I, and our friend Vickie and her fiance are all going to an Orioles game on Wednesday evening. I honestly cannot wait to hang out with these fine, wonderful people, all of whom I love and admire greatly!
It would be greatly remiss of me to not give all the honor and glory of my wonderful good fortune back to its undeniable source, the Good Lord in Heaven above. Many of you know that I have been having "issues" with God, lately. Once again, His way and His timing are the better option. You think I'd learn...
Tonight - in this moment - life is fun and I am happy!
"Jump Jive An' Wail", Brian Setzer Orchestra.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Adam "Mania" Wyatt
I met a guy last November 17, who called himself Adam Mania. His real name is Adam Wyatt, but the moniker fit. This guy was high energy and fun. You could see he genuinely loved life! Ten days after I met him, he was gone as the result of a tragic motorcycle accident.
Back to the night I met him. I was at Sean Bolan's Irish Pub in Bel Air. They have an open mic night every Thursday that is hosted by a local musician whom I respect and admire greatly, Julie Houtz. Anyway, Adam did a raucous set, and I got a killer photograph of him in a classic rock-and-roll pose, his hand up above his shoulder and ready to wail on his electric guitar. When he was done I showed him the picture, and he asked me to send him a copy on facebook. I did, and it was to become his final selection for a facebook profile photo.
The bigger part of that evening wasn't about the photograph, though. After the brief introductions - "Hi; I'm Mike. Hi; I'm Adam" - he stood there and talked to me for a good - no, make that a GREAT - 45 minutes. Now mind you, this was the first time I'd shown up for this open mic night thing, and I knew only the host, and I knew her in very limited fashion, having seen her perform only one other time at that same venue. Adam, on the other hand, was clearly a regular, and a popular one at that. For those of you old enough to remember the tv show Cheers, this cat was like Bolan's "Norm". Everybody knew his name, and everybody loved being around him. He reiprocated that love in spades. So, here I am, this socially awkward (at that point) guy still trying to fight my way back to being generally accepted among a brand spanking new group of peers, and the most popular guy at the bar is hanging out getting to know me for, like, 45 minutes.
I'm trying to make this sound like it is not about me, but what Adam did for me, and for my social confidence, is so incredibly amazing to me, that it has stuck with me since that night. At that point in my life, I was content to be the guy stuck safely and anonymously behind the camera, and satisfied if one or two people asked to look at the pictures I took. All my life, I was the kid who got picked last for kickball on the school playground, right after the poor, crippled, blind girl with no legs and a bad cough. That night, the coolest kid in school could have chosen anybody to be on his kickball team, and he picked me - first. My aspirations at that time in my life were set low. My goal was to one day be not chosen last, and then this guy with popularity larger than life itself chose me first. A few people came by to say hi to him and he acknowledged them, but he kept right on talking to me. He got some of my story, and I got some of his. He had, in the space of 45 minutes, become one of the most influential people I had ever met.
I learned of his passing at work. I was heartbroken. His photograph haunted me. As a photographer I feel a sense of responsibility to those whom I photograph. Adam had a purpose, and I did not feel right "keeping" his picture to myself. I would find out in the aftermath of his passing that he was good friends with someone who is equally influential in my life, Erica Bragg. Adam was well-known among Erica's circle of friends, many of whom have since become my friends, too. So, fast-forward to last week, which would have been Adam's 30th birthday. Trish, a good friend of Adam's (and Erica's and now mine, too) threw a party to commemorate this significant milestone in Adam's story, and there was no doubt it was to be primarily a celebration of his life and how he lived it. The photograph was too light-hearted and jocular to be given in an appropriate way at the time of his passing; but, the birthday party provided an event that was perfectly suited to the mood of the image. So I printed and matted the picture and gave it to Trish to have signed by his friends who attended the party. I will frame the image tomorrow night. I can't wait to see how it looks with all those kind words befitting such a kind soul!
Adam, it sucks that I got to know you for only 45 minutes, but my life would have sucked a hell of alot worse if I hadn't. I'm glad you like the picture; it no longer haunts me because it's your's now, in a real and tangible way. Thank you for helping me see that it is enough to be just who I am to deserve great friends like you. You're the best, Adam; and, someday we're gonna pick up that conversation where we left it last November.
Back to the night I met him. I was at Sean Bolan's Irish Pub in Bel Air. They have an open mic night every Thursday that is hosted by a local musician whom I respect and admire greatly, Julie Houtz. Anyway, Adam did a raucous set, and I got a killer photograph of him in a classic rock-and-roll pose, his hand up above his shoulder and ready to wail on his electric guitar. When he was done I showed him the picture, and he asked me to send him a copy on facebook. I did, and it was to become his final selection for a facebook profile photo.
The bigger part of that evening wasn't about the photograph, though. After the brief introductions - "Hi; I'm Mike. Hi; I'm Adam" - he stood there and talked to me for a good - no, make that a GREAT - 45 minutes. Now mind you, this was the first time I'd shown up for this open mic night thing, and I knew only the host, and I knew her in very limited fashion, having seen her perform only one other time at that same venue. Adam, on the other hand, was clearly a regular, and a popular one at that. For those of you old enough to remember the tv show Cheers, this cat was like Bolan's "Norm". Everybody knew his name, and everybody loved being around him. He reiprocated that love in spades. So, here I am, this socially awkward (at that point) guy still trying to fight my way back to being generally accepted among a brand spanking new group of peers, and the most popular guy at the bar is hanging out getting to know me for, like, 45 minutes.
I'm trying to make this sound like it is not about me, but what Adam did for me, and for my social confidence, is so incredibly amazing to me, that it has stuck with me since that night. At that point in my life, I was content to be the guy stuck safely and anonymously behind the camera, and satisfied if one or two people asked to look at the pictures I took. All my life, I was the kid who got picked last for kickball on the school playground, right after the poor, crippled, blind girl with no legs and a bad cough. That night, the coolest kid in school could have chosen anybody to be on his kickball team, and he picked me - first. My aspirations at that time in my life were set low. My goal was to one day be not chosen last, and then this guy with popularity larger than life itself chose me first. A few people came by to say hi to him and he acknowledged them, but he kept right on talking to me. He got some of my story, and I got some of his. He had, in the space of 45 minutes, become one of the most influential people I had ever met.
I learned of his passing at work. I was heartbroken. His photograph haunted me. As a photographer I feel a sense of responsibility to those whom I photograph. Adam had a purpose, and I did not feel right "keeping" his picture to myself. I would find out in the aftermath of his passing that he was good friends with someone who is equally influential in my life, Erica Bragg. Adam was well-known among Erica's circle of friends, many of whom have since become my friends, too. So, fast-forward to last week, which would have been Adam's 30th birthday. Trish, a good friend of Adam's (and Erica's and now mine, too) threw a party to commemorate this significant milestone in Adam's story, and there was no doubt it was to be primarily a celebration of his life and how he lived it. The photograph was too light-hearted and jocular to be given in an appropriate way at the time of his passing; but, the birthday party provided an event that was perfectly suited to the mood of the image. So I printed and matted the picture and gave it to Trish to have signed by his friends who attended the party. I will frame the image tomorrow night. I can't wait to see how it looks with all those kind words befitting such a kind soul!
Adam, it sucks that I got to know you for only 45 minutes, but my life would have sucked a hell of alot worse if I hadn't. I'm glad you like the picture; it no longer haunts me because it's your's now, in a real and tangible way. Thank you for helping me see that it is enough to be just who I am to deserve great friends like you. You're the best, Adam; and, someday we're gonna pick up that conversation where we left it last November.
Love ya, brother!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
A Comedian Walks Into A Bar...
Funny men are often some of the saddest and most miserable people around.
If you've followed my blog for any time, you know that I have made tremendous strides in expanding my circle of friends this year. I've made friends by the dozen, and I count each one to be a tremendous blessing in my life. I am having fun for the first time since leaving photo classes about ten years ago.
Unfortunately, some people insist on sucking. Case-in-point, I made a friend at one of my regular open mic night venues. This friend is loud and boisterous, but, seemingly, a decent person also there looking to enjoy a comradery with the other bar patrons. This person is well known and well liked. I considered this individual a friend. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge.
It was recently brought to my attention that this person tells people about me, "don't trust him", and "you gotta watch him". Apparently, this individual considers me some sort of potential narc or rat for the police. The truth is, its none of my business what any individual decides to smoke, inject or ingest, and I am under no obligation, and most certainly of no predisposition, to inform or report to anyone either my direct knowledge or any potential suspicion. I could if I wanted to. The point is, I don't want to.
I was, however, able to use my professional connections to help this person out when they got into a bit of a tough spot about a month ago. I was the one who went out of my way to vouch for this person's character. So, this individual thanks me by trying to throw me under the bus, and in the process make my new circle of friends wary of me.
Hopefully, this is just a set-up for another bad punchline; but, if it is some sorta joke, I just don't get it!
"The Joker", Steve Miller Band.
If you've followed my blog for any time, you know that I have made tremendous strides in expanding my circle of friends this year. I've made friends by the dozen, and I count each one to be a tremendous blessing in my life. I am having fun for the first time since leaving photo classes about ten years ago.
Unfortunately, some people insist on sucking. Case-in-point, I made a friend at one of my regular open mic night venues. This friend is loud and boisterous, but, seemingly, a decent person also there looking to enjoy a comradery with the other bar patrons. This person is well known and well liked. I considered this individual a friend. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge.
It was recently brought to my attention that this person tells people about me, "don't trust him", and "you gotta watch him". Apparently, this individual considers me some sort of potential narc or rat for the police. The truth is, its none of my business what any individual decides to smoke, inject or ingest, and I am under no obligation, and most certainly of no predisposition, to inform or report to anyone either my direct knowledge or any potential suspicion. I could if I wanted to. The point is, I don't want to.
I was, however, able to use my professional connections to help this person out when they got into a bit of a tough spot about a month ago. I was the one who went out of my way to vouch for this person's character. So, this individual thanks me by trying to throw me under the bus, and in the process make my new circle of friends wary of me.
Hopefully, this is just a set-up for another bad punchline; but, if it is some sorta joke, I just don't get it!
"The Joker", Steve Miller Band.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Ohm My!
Of all the java joints, in all the towns, in all the world, I walk into hers...
First things first, though. Two weeks ago, Kerry the therapist suggested I check out a local meditation group. I'd never tried meditation before, but I figured, "what could it hurt?". I went tonight for my first meeting. I was surprised by how long it took me to release my tensions and uptight posture. When I did, though, I was able to begin purging visual memories of some traumatic events that occurred in my childhood. I found a place of peace in the meditative state where I could center and, really, recalibrate my own feelings with regard to the internal versus external loci of control. Because, through prayer and God's grace, I have found the capacity to forgive in relation to these traumatic events, none of this was particularly upsetting; it was just nice to begin to fully dismiss the memories of those unpleasant events from my mind.
On the lighter side, after the meditation session I decided to reward my breakthrough with a sweet treat. Now, I know I needed that slab of coconut cream pie like I need another hole in my head; but, sometimes, ya jus' gotta... Anyway, that calorie crammed confection ended up being merely the second sweetest thing on tonight's menu. My server, Ashley, was gorgeous! She is another one of those anomalies that Erica tuned me into noticing when we were all down in Atlantic City back in May. Ashley does her hair and make-up in a vintage 1940's style. The 1940's style is hot! She had the walk to go with a 40's lady-like appearance and countenance; the only thing missing was the stockings with the seam up the back. I love the stockings with the seam up the back...yeah, buddy! She is young, and I am not expecting there is any kinda connection, but daddy-o is she ever cool! I was happy, too, to be in the diner when my regular crew were not on-hand. I had to get myself over with some just barely, passingly familiar faces, and I succeeded with flying colors, and, in the process, have again significantly broadened my circle of friends!
Havin' fun!
"Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate The Positive", Johnny Mercer.
First things first, though. Two weeks ago, Kerry the therapist suggested I check out a local meditation group. I'd never tried meditation before, but I figured, "what could it hurt?". I went tonight for my first meeting. I was surprised by how long it took me to release my tensions and uptight posture. When I did, though, I was able to begin purging visual memories of some traumatic events that occurred in my childhood. I found a place of peace in the meditative state where I could center and, really, recalibrate my own feelings with regard to the internal versus external loci of control. Because, through prayer and God's grace, I have found the capacity to forgive in relation to these traumatic events, none of this was particularly upsetting; it was just nice to begin to fully dismiss the memories of those unpleasant events from my mind.
On the lighter side, after the meditation session I decided to reward my breakthrough with a sweet treat. Now, I know I needed that slab of coconut cream pie like I need another hole in my head; but, sometimes, ya jus' gotta... Anyway, that calorie crammed confection ended up being merely the second sweetest thing on tonight's menu. My server, Ashley, was gorgeous! She is another one of those anomalies that Erica tuned me into noticing when we were all down in Atlantic City back in May. Ashley does her hair and make-up in a vintage 1940's style. The 1940's style is hot! She had the walk to go with a 40's lady-like appearance and countenance; the only thing missing was the stockings with the seam up the back. I love the stockings with the seam up the back...yeah, buddy! She is young, and I am not expecting there is any kinda connection, but daddy-o is she ever cool! I was happy, too, to be in the diner when my regular crew were not on-hand. I had to get myself over with some just barely, passingly familiar faces, and I succeeded with flying colors, and, in the process, have again significantly broadened my circle of friends!
Havin' fun!
"Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate The Positive", Johnny Mercer.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Love For $ale
I have been propositioned by a prostitute. I posted a personal ad (simply seeking someone to talk to) and have had a myriad of responses, most of which have directed me to different internet porn and/or dating sites. My most recent response was from a woman who is for hire and marketing her services.
I am looking for a relationship, not just sex. That said, in a different situation (i.e. not a business arrangement), if I had a social offer of just sex without any possibility of establishing a romantic relationship, I would probably indulge. There was a time, and not so long ago, when I would have sworn that the answer to such a business proposition would be an unequivocated and affirmative no. Now, I'm not so sure. While sex is not ALL I'm looking for, it is part of an adult relationship that I do enjoy deeply. Do I enjoy it to the point of being willing to pay for it outside the parameters of a commited, romantic relationship? I dunno...maybe. Would it fulfill the entirety of the need that has been troubling me since getting my own act together, psychologically? Absolutely not. Because it would not fulfill a greater, farther reaching need, I think its not a good idea to accept the offer. However, when considered on its own merits - to wit: You want sex. I want money. Let's trade. - it seems more worthwhile.
The morality argument is not gonna work here, either; because, if Judeao-Christian religious morality is the ultimate barometer of right and wrong, than not one of us would be having sex outside of marriage. Just a guess, here, but I'll bet not one of us (at least among my fb friends) haven't done so. So, then it becomes an issue of the sexual mores of society. That never much concerned me, anyway. I have always had a good number of people in my social circle who do things a little differently from what some good, church goin' folk might expect. I definitely do things differently. The possibility that we will all end up in the same Heaven scares the hell outta the good, church goin' folk.
The point here, I guess, is never assume your response to a hypothetically presented situation to be iron-clad when facing that same situation in reality. I am going to wait for my real, loving, soul mate and life partner to come along; but, I cannot by any means claim society's moral high ground on the other issue. I think fewer would be able to than the number who think they could.
"I Want Your Sex", George Michael.
I am looking for a relationship, not just sex. That said, in a different situation (i.e. not a business arrangement), if I had a social offer of just sex without any possibility of establishing a romantic relationship, I would probably indulge. There was a time, and not so long ago, when I would have sworn that the answer to such a business proposition would be an unequivocated and affirmative no. Now, I'm not so sure. While sex is not ALL I'm looking for, it is part of an adult relationship that I do enjoy deeply. Do I enjoy it to the point of being willing to pay for it outside the parameters of a commited, romantic relationship? I dunno...maybe. Would it fulfill the entirety of the need that has been troubling me since getting my own act together, psychologically? Absolutely not. Because it would not fulfill a greater, farther reaching need, I think its not a good idea to accept the offer. However, when considered on its own merits - to wit: You want sex. I want money. Let's trade. - it seems more worthwhile.
The morality argument is not gonna work here, either; because, if Judeao-Christian religious morality is the ultimate barometer of right and wrong, than not one of us would be having sex outside of marriage. Just a guess, here, but I'll bet not one of us (at least among my fb friends) haven't done so. So, then it becomes an issue of the sexual mores of society. That never much concerned me, anyway. I have always had a good number of people in my social circle who do things a little differently from what some good, church goin' folk might expect. I definitely do things differently. The possibility that we will all end up in the same Heaven scares the hell outta the good, church goin' folk.
The point here, I guess, is never assume your response to a hypothetically presented situation to be iron-clad when facing that same situation in reality. I am going to wait for my real, loving, soul mate and life partner to come along; but, I cannot by any means claim society's moral high ground on the other issue. I think fewer would be able to than the number who think they could.
"I Want Your Sex", George Michael.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
We Are The Two Percent
Ninety-eight percent of me wants to give up...throw in the towel...just say it ain't worth the heartache of tryin' to meet the right woman. Still, there is that remaining two percent that just won't quit me. I'm beginning to think that two percent might be my inner-idiot and that I can't read the writing on the wall, even though I am otherwise highly literate. Oh well, never meeting the woman for me is only guaranteed by not trying, even if actually meeting her seems all but impossible.
To this end, I have joined the Baltimore Area Singles MeetUp group. They are having a function at Mountain Branch tomorrow - or, uh, later today, I suppose. There is a well known local cover band playing there, and a group of a baker's dozen from MeetUp showing up. So I go, have a few iced teas and leave...at worst. I gotta try. It's either that or continue dying what feels like a slow and lonely death. Kerry the therapist thinks I should take a break from trying to meet people for awhile, but I am not content to leave my chance of meeting someone to chance; it hasn't served me well, so far, and God seems to be not on the same page as what I feel like my need is with regard to this issue. Or, maybe this is one of those areas of life where He just lets us fend for ourselves while He takes care of disease and natural disasters, and such.
Yesterday had been exactly three months since Vickie left her practice. I still miss her terribly! We agreed that I could e-mail her every three months, or so, with an update of my goings-on, and find out how she is doing, too. So, while everybody else was oohing and ahhing over the fireworks, I was authoring my e-mail to Vickie. It would be great to hear from her. As therapists go, when they made Vickie they broke the mold. She is amazing, and her influence in my life is what most likely accounts for that two percent of fight left in me.
After Sunday night's debacle, I'm just hoping to not have to take another proverbial kick in the nuts. That was not fun. It has taken its toll this week. It's funny, too, in many ways Independence Day has that same kinda feel to it as New Year's Eve, and all a single person can see is how it seems that everyone else is paired off with a significant other, seemingly happily.
"Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", U2.
To this end, I have joined the Baltimore Area Singles MeetUp group. They are having a function at Mountain Branch tomorrow - or, uh, later today, I suppose. There is a well known local cover band playing there, and a group of a baker's dozen from MeetUp showing up. So I go, have a few iced teas and leave...at worst. I gotta try. It's either that or continue dying what feels like a slow and lonely death. Kerry the therapist thinks I should take a break from trying to meet people for awhile, but I am not content to leave my chance of meeting someone to chance; it hasn't served me well, so far, and God seems to be not on the same page as what I feel like my need is with regard to this issue. Or, maybe this is one of those areas of life where He just lets us fend for ourselves while He takes care of disease and natural disasters, and such.
Yesterday had been exactly three months since Vickie left her practice. I still miss her terribly! We agreed that I could e-mail her every three months, or so, with an update of my goings-on, and find out how she is doing, too. So, while everybody else was oohing and ahhing over the fireworks, I was authoring my e-mail to Vickie. It would be great to hear from her. As therapists go, when they made Vickie they broke the mold. She is amazing, and her influence in my life is what most likely accounts for that two percent of fight left in me.
After Sunday night's debacle, I'm just hoping to not have to take another proverbial kick in the nuts. That was not fun. It has taken its toll this week. It's funny, too, in many ways Independence Day has that same kinda feel to it as New Year's Eve, and all a single person can see is how it seems that everyone else is paired off with a significant other, seemingly happily.
"Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", U2.
Monday, July 2, 2012
At Odds With Being
Apparently, the Rule of Ugly dominates the Law of Attraction.
Last week, Kerry the therapist suggested I get involved with a local woman, Cynthia K Johnson, who hosts a weekly(ish) meditation/self-help discussion group. I'm not a joiner, but I'm also not managing my own feelings very well; so, I deferred to her suggestion and signed up.
After last night's episode with the vanishing date, I was gonna try to hit the reset button tonight at the group meeting. Just got an e-mail that Cynthia's air conditioner broke down, and that the meeting for this week is cancelled. Even the Universe doesn't seem to like, accept, or want me around right now. WTF!
Anyway, the group is reading and discussing a book called The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. So, I am going to go out tonight to try to find the book and get working on it. I hope it helps. I am beginning to feel like my own lost cause.
"Fuckin' Perfect", Pink.
Last week, Kerry the therapist suggested I get involved with a local woman, Cynthia K Johnson, who hosts a weekly(ish) meditation/self-help discussion group. I'm not a joiner, but I'm also not managing my own feelings very well; so, I deferred to her suggestion and signed up.
After last night's episode with the vanishing date, I was gonna try to hit the reset button tonight at the group meeting. Just got an e-mail that Cynthia's air conditioner broke down, and that the meeting for this week is cancelled. Even the Universe doesn't seem to like, accept, or want me around right now. WTF!
Anyway, the group is reading and discussing a book called The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle. So, I am going to go out tonight to try to find the book and get working on it. I hope it helps. I am beginning to feel like my own lost cause.
"Fuckin' Perfect", Pink.
Less Than Nothing
It's one thing to feel like you are grotesque and repulsive; but, when someone goes to the trouble to confirm it for you, it just takes it to a whole different level.
All of this polishing and refining I've been trying to do seems to be for naught. For whatever reason, I am unacceptable as boyfriend material. I'm ugly and fat and horrible in some uniquely intangible way. Lucky me! I had a "blind" arrangement to meet someone for a drink last night after work. When the gal showed up at our meeting place, she wasn't two minutes into our conversation when she said, "I'm gonna go.". How fuckin' hard would it have been to suffer me through one drink of her choice which she wouldn't have had to pay for anyway?
If you feel worthless you're supposed to shake it off - redirect your thoughts, people say. If people tell you that, you're supposed to ignore them - "who are they, anyway?", folks admonish. But, what do you do when someone shows up in your face and slowly and methodically spells it out for you in clear and unmistakable terms?
All of this polishing and refining I've been trying to do seems to be for naught. For whatever reason, I am unacceptable as boyfriend material. I'm ugly and fat and horrible in some uniquely intangible way. Lucky me! I had a "blind" arrangement to meet someone for a drink last night after work. When the gal showed up at our meeting place, she wasn't two minutes into our conversation when she said, "I'm gonna go.". How fuckin' hard would it have been to suffer me through one drink of her choice which she wouldn't have had to pay for anyway?
If you feel worthless you're supposed to shake it off - redirect your thoughts, people say. If people tell you that, you're supposed to ignore them - "who are they, anyway?", folks admonish. But, what do you do when someone shows up in your face and slowly and methodically spells it out for you in clear and unmistakable terms?
ugly U-G-L-Y ugly
grotesque G-R-O-T-E-S-Q-U-E grotesque
repulsive R-E-P-U-L-S-I-V-E repulsive
Really, REALLY?! What am I supposed to do with that? It leaves very little to build on. Tired of the whole damned thing!
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Loneliness Is A Constant Companion
It's coming up on three months since Vickie left her practice. I didn't think it was possible for me to still miss her this much. Kerry has been great, but Vickie was my sanctuary from my own darkness. I've honestly felt lost without her. Honestly, I still feel lost. Vickie's guidance was pure, white light. Advice I get elsewhere - be it from Kerry or family or friends or my facebook family - is comparitively a voice in the darkness of my own affliction. I cannot find my way through the darkness to these voices. Vickie always showed me clearly visible direction. With Vickie's help, I knew where I was going; now, not so much. I miss her.
I'm floundering. I'm trying to keep myself distracted and succeeding well and failing miserably. I'm sad. I want things to not have changed. I want Vickie to not have left her career. I want what I can never seem to have...the unconditional love and acceptance of a special woman. Vickie is not that special woman. She is not even a representation thereof. But, Vickie was the one woman who was gonna ride shotgun on my journey to meet this special lady. She "got me" like no one else gets me. Now, it feels like Vickie bailed, and then somebody stole my ride. I'm lost, scared, tired and alone. I'm also getting tired of the journey.
At the end of the day, what I really want is somebody there at the end of the day. For whatever reason God and/or fate have determined that I am neither worthy nor deserving of this.
Solitude.
"Population: Me", Dwight Yoakam.
I'm floundering. I'm trying to keep myself distracted and succeeding well and failing miserably. I'm sad. I want things to not have changed. I want Vickie to not have left her career. I want what I can never seem to have...the unconditional love and acceptance of a special woman. Vickie is not that special woman. She is not even a representation thereof. But, Vickie was the one woman who was gonna ride shotgun on my journey to meet this special lady. She "got me" like no one else gets me. Now, it feels like Vickie bailed, and then somebody stole my ride. I'm lost, scared, tired and alone. I'm also getting tired of the journey.
At the end of the day, what I really want is somebody there at the end of the day. For whatever reason God and/or fate have determined that I am neither worthy nor deserving of this.
Solitude.
"Population: Me", Dwight Yoakam.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Where 2?
Kerry the therapist said I need to take a break from trying to meet somebody. She said I need to just go out and have fun and enjoy companionability for its own sake, rather than with an inherently attached agenda. Fair enough. She also recommended a local meditation group, but that might be an adventure for a future posting. Me gettin' all metaphysical...odd.
Tonight I went out to find some enjoyable company and just enjoy being around people. It was dead at Sean Bolan's in Bel Air, so I went to Looney's where it was a bit more lively, and where I had a delicious spinach salad, btw. Not much was really doin' there, and the karaoke was God awful. Just then, a mutual friend dropped the dime on the location of two other friends who were out-and-about. I went and found them, and they both were at different stages of inebriation. The more sly of the two decided they wanted to be elsewhere. Given that I wasn't drinking, I became - quite voluntarily, to be fair - the designated driver. We went back to Looney's. One of my cohorts forgot identification, so we ended up at Main Street Tower.
Drinkin' Buddy #2 planned for a "friend" to meet us there. Drinkin' Buddy #2, it seems, wanted to upscale the venue from where I met them, and so that is how we ended up back in Bel Air at a more respectable bar, if such thing exists. So, Drinkin' Buddy #2 was caught up talking with the "friend", while Drinkin' Buddy #1 was busy chatting with a coworker whom I happened to find ordering a shot at the bar at the same time I was ordering my diet Coke. Drinkin' Buddy #1's coworker was quite attractive, and we shared a nice little conversation. Now, mind you, this gal was barely 21, and I was gonna get nowhere with her (nor did I want to), but she was absolutely gorgeous. And, she took to chatting me up! The confidence is now fully in place when I go out socially, but I am still surprised every time I am well-received by decent, attractive women, be they very young or closer to my age bracket, which is...less young.
Anyway, Drinkin' Buddy #2 kept the conversation going with the "friend". Closing time rolled around, and Drinkin' Buddy #2 proposed a continuation of festivities at the Waffle House to be followed by more drinks and merriment at Casa de Drinkin' Buddy Dos. Drinkin' Buddy #2 was overruled by the remaining three of us, to wit: Drinkin' Buddy #1, the "friend", and myself. So, Drinkin' Buddy #2 invited everyone back to the house. Drinkin' Buddy #2 rode with the "friend" back to the house. Upon arrival and entrance, Drinkin' Buddy #2 immediately feigned exhaustion, which was more or less a cue for me and Drinkin' Buddy #1 to take our leave, and in the process leave Drinkin' Buddy #2 and the "friend" (who, by the way, is not the significant other of Drinkin' Buddy #2) to each other's enjoyment.
After we left, Drinkin' Buddy #1 and I ended up at the aforementioned Waffle House. Drinkin' Buddy #1 was pissed at Drinkin' Buddy #2, but we managed to have an enjoyable rest of the evening. Then, I made my way home, getting in at a definitely non-respectable 4:30 a.m., after having been decidedly and expertly played - along with Drinkin' Buddy #1 - by Drinkin' Buddy #2.
Kerry says I should not try to meet women in bars. Taking a cue from the example of Drinkin' Buddy #2 and "friend", I can appreciate that as good advice. Except, Looney's has this bartender named Alison...
"Drive", The Cars.
Tonight I went out to find some enjoyable company and just enjoy being around people. It was dead at Sean Bolan's in Bel Air, so I went to Looney's where it was a bit more lively, and where I had a delicious spinach salad, btw. Not much was really doin' there, and the karaoke was God awful. Just then, a mutual friend dropped the dime on the location of two other friends who were out-and-about. I went and found them, and they both were at different stages of inebriation. The more sly of the two decided they wanted to be elsewhere. Given that I wasn't drinking, I became - quite voluntarily, to be fair - the designated driver. We went back to Looney's. One of my cohorts forgot identification, so we ended up at Main Street Tower.
Drinkin' Buddy #2 planned for a "friend" to meet us there. Drinkin' Buddy #2, it seems, wanted to upscale the venue from where I met them, and so that is how we ended up back in Bel Air at a more respectable bar, if such thing exists. So, Drinkin' Buddy #2 was caught up talking with the "friend", while Drinkin' Buddy #1 was busy chatting with a coworker whom I happened to find ordering a shot at the bar at the same time I was ordering my diet Coke. Drinkin' Buddy #1's coworker was quite attractive, and we shared a nice little conversation. Now, mind you, this gal was barely 21, and I was gonna get nowhere with her (nor did I want to), but she was absolutely gorgeous. And, she took to chatting me up! The confidence is now fully in place when I go out socially, but I am still surprised every time I am well-received by decent, attractive women, be they very young or closer to my age bracket, which is...less young.
Anyway, Drinkin' Buddy #2 kept the conversation going with the "friend". Closing time rolled around, and Drinkin' Buddy #2 proposed a continuation of festivities at the Waffle House to be followed by more drinks and merriment at Casa de Drinkin' Buddy Dos. Drinkin' Buddy #2 was overruled by the remaining three of us, to wit: Drinkin' Buddy #1, the "friend", and myself. So, Drinkin' Buddy #2 invited everyone back to the house. Drinkin' Buddy #2 rode with the "friend" back to the house. Upon arrival and entrance, Drinkin' Buddy #2 immediately feigned exhaustion, which was more or less a cue for me and Drinkin' Buddy #1 to take our leave, and in the process leave Drinkin' Buddy #2 and the "friend" (who, by the way, is not the significant other of Drinkin' Buddy #2) to each other's enjoyment.
After we left, Drinkin' Buddy #1 and I ended up at the aforementioned Waffle House. Drinkin' Buddy #1 was pissed at Drinkin' Buddy #2, but we managed to have an enjoyable rest of the evening. Then, I made my way home, getting in at a definitely non-respectable 4:30 a.m., after having been decidedly and expertly played - along with Drinkin' Buddy #1 - by Drinkin' Buddy #2.
Kerry says I should not try to meet women in bars. Taking a cue from the example of Drinkin' Buddy #2 and "friend", I can appreciate that as good advice. Except, Looney's has this bartender named Alison...
"Drive", The Cars.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Lookin' Good!
According to my dear friend Jen Schaffer, my recent 25 pound weight loss has made me look "really good". She also said if I could drop another 40 pounds I'd be "fightin' 'em off". To quote Tweety Bird, "She don't know me very well, do she?"!
I am coming to a point where I have to either fish or cut bait. I need to get my internal and external self right or be content to spend the rest of my life on the sidelines watching life happen to me. I'm not content with that. I want to call the shots!
So, in a few hours, it will be up with the dawn to walk the circuit around my neighborhood, including two rather impressive hills! My goal now is to bust that 40 while I'm still 40...that gives me til' September 28. Get some!
"Strut", Sheena Easton.
I am coming to a point where I have to either fish or cut bait. I need to get my internal and external self right or be content to spend the rest of my life on the sidelines watching life happen to me. I'm not content with that. I want to call the shots!
So, in a few hours, it will be up with the dawn to walk the circuit around my neighborhood, including two rather impressive hills! My goal now is to bust that 40 while I'm still 40...that gives me til' September 28. Get some!
"Strut", Sheena Easton.
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
I Hate Myself
I have sought to find a girlfriend. I have sought to find some female company just to casually see if a woman could be that girlfriend. I have failed.
I take no solace in having made the attempt. Results matter. I was not successful. That makes me a failure. The most recent woman I dated put attempting and trying to do any given thing into very clear perspective. She quoted Yoda from the Star Wars movies: "Do or do not; there is no try.". If you haven't succeeded, you've failed. It is not the process, but the end result that matters.
Rejection and/or failure to find a woman who is interested in me gives rise to those old demons of self-hatred. Women do not like me as a boyfriend. My goal is to find a girlfriend. Women find the prospect of dating/loving me to be unacceptable. I have failed to attain my goal. I hate myself because I cannot be loved.
"I'd Avoid Me Too", Dwight Yoakam.
I take no solace in having made the attempt. Results matter. I was not successful. That makes me a failure. The most recent woman I dated put attempting and trying to do any given thing into very clear perspective. She quoted Yoda from the Star Wars movies: "Do or do not; there is no try.". If you haven't succeeded, you've failed. It is not the process, but the end result that matters.
Rejection and/or failure to find a woman who is interested in me gives rise to those old demons of self-hatred. Women do not like me as a boyfriend. My goal is to find a girlfriend. Women find the prospect of dating/loving me to be unacceptable. I have failed to attain my goal. I hate myself because I cannot be loved.
"I'd Avoid Me Too", Dwight Yoakam.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Fuck!
All I want is a date to go see a God-damned outdoor movie in Little Italy, but there is nobody! For the most part, there has never been anybody. It feels like there never will be anybody.
This loneliness is killing me!
"Unwell", Matchbox 20.
This loneliness is killing me!
"Unwell", Matchbox 20.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Family Days
Sunday was Father's Day.
First of all, these days are not holidays, because there is nothing holy about them save for saying, "Holy shit, it's another one of them damned days again!". These days really only benefit the card and gift companies. Let's face it, if you have to set aside a mere 0.36525% of your time to be nice to your mother or father or valentine or administrative professional, you really need to work on that relationship. These days, as popularly practiced, are not rooted in any kind of spiritual observance. It's just a money making scheme, and a way to dispensate the profligate tyranny of the mortgage, spouse, 2.3 kids, dog, SUV and picket fence, nuclear family model that society seeks to impose as "normal". I'm not buying it.
I am not a father 'cause I know I do not want children of my own. Where is my celebration? Conversely, how many men that have zero business creating their own offspring get lauded with "#1 Dad" coffee mugs or new neckties or special dinners or other such celebrations? Honestly, how many of these male persons who get celebrated do you think would not rather be fishing or golfing or shooting dice, instead of playing the family role on Father's Day? Still, they are looked at as the heroes, and we single guys who have responsibly taken efforts and great care to remain childless are comparitive zeroes. We are pitied and thought of as having something missing from our lives. Nothing could be further from the truth. We know what we want and what we don't and we are disciplined enough to live within those parameters of conduct and consequence.
I don't need a set-aside, scheduled celebration. I want to be appreciated for me...for who I am as an individual...for the choices I make and don't make...everyday. I want to find a special woman, a lover, a friend and life-partner. I want to share my intellignetly selected choices with a gal who makes her own intelligently selected choices that are, at the very least, loosely compatible with mine - maybe not necessarily on the same page, but, at least, in the same library. I want a woman who can enjoy the value and romance of a 25 year old chick flick shown outdoors in the haze, heat and humidity of a Downtown Baltimore summer night just because it's a different way of doing something familiar.
Society doesn't see it that way, though. Society sees us singles as incomplete people in need of prayer or fixing. Society tells women that a person like me who does not move on from breaking one heart to destroying the spirit of the next lacks life experience and doesn't fully understand what it is to be a man. Well, if that is society's definition of a man, then maybe it is society and their social mores that I do not understand.
I know what it is to be a gentleman. I know what it is to show equal care and concern for the woman I want in my life, and for the children I don't. Maybe - just maybe - it's not me, but society who does not understand.
"Father Figure", George Michael.
First of all, these days are not holidays, because there is nothing holy about them save for saying, "Holy shit, it's another one of them damned days again!". These days really only benefit the card and gift companies. Let's face it, if you have to set aside a mere 0.36525% of your time to be nice to your mother or father or valentine or administrative professional, you really need to work on that relationship. These days, as popularly practiced, are not rooted in any kind of spiritual observance. It's just a money making scheme, and a way to dispensate the profligate tyranny of the mortgage, spouse, 2.3 kids, dog, SUV and picket fence, nuclear family model that society seeks to impose as "normal". I'm not buying it.
I am not a father 'cause I know I do not want children of my own. Where is my celebration? Conversely, how many men that have zero business creating their own offspring get lauded with "#1 Dad" coffee mugs or new neckties or special dinners or other such celebrations? Honestly, how many of these male persons who get celebrated do you think would not rather be fishing or golfing or shooting dice, instead of playing the family role on Father's Day? Still, they are looked at as the heroes, and we single guys who have responsibly taken efforts and great care to remain childless are comparitive zeroes. We are pitied and thought of as having something missing from our lives. Nothing could be further from the truth. We know what we want and what we don't and we are disciplined enough to live within those parameters of conduct and consequence.
I don't need a set-aside, scheduled celebration. I want to be appreciated for me...for who I am as an individual...for the choices I make and don't make...everyday. I want to find a special woman, a lover, a friend and life-partner. I want to share my intellignetly selected choices with a gal who makes her own intelligently selected choices that are, at the very least, loosely compatible with mine - maybe not necessarily on the same page, but, at least, in the same library. I want a woman who can enjoy the value and romance of a 25 year old chick flick shown outdoors in the haze, heat and humidity of a Downtown Baltimore summer night just because it's a different way of doing something familiar.
Society doesn't see it that way, though. Society sees us singles as incomplete people in need of prayer or fixing. Society tells women that a person like me who does not move on from breaking one heart to destroying the spirit of the next lacks life experience and doesn't fully understand what it is to be a man. Well, if that is society's definition of a man, then maybe it is society and their social mores that I do not understand.
I know what it is to be a gentleman. I know what it is to show equal care and concern for the woman I want in my life, and for the children I don't. Maybe - just maybe - it's not me, but society who does not understand.
"Father Figure", George Michael.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Uppin' the Ante
Since about the middle of May, my life and feelings and emotions have been marked by a sense of introspective rumination...of friends from the past, good times I had, days gone by, and some opportunities missed.
This morning I woke up to the sound of my father screaming at my mother and mom crying over money or lawyers or who gets to make what decision, or some such nonsense. Ah, the good 'ol days! While my immediate reaction, due to my history with my father, will always be to go knock the sonofabitch on his ass, I calmed my own feelings, listened for round two, and let them have their spat. It's not my fight. This is the kind of behavior Dad chose to poison my childhood and young adulthood with, and it's the environment my mother chose during my childhood for me to have to endure and have to make sense of on my own from a very early age. I've since forgiven them both for how they allowed me and my sister to grow up in such a toxic and vitriolic environment. Forgiveness does not equal endorsement or acceptance.
I am feeling increasingly more comfortable in my own skin. There are still issues I have to deal with, but I am comfortable with who I am. I have found this comfort by the grace of God, and through exposure to an increasing number of personality types due to the continuing expansion of my social circle, thanks in large part to my dear friend Erica Bragg.
I am still lonely! I'd still do just about anything to find that special woman, lover and partner in my life; I'd do just about anything just to get the loneliness to stop. After leaving the hospital nearly three weeks ago, part of me was pissed that I didn't just die when I had my black-out episode. The loneliness would have been over, and I wouldn't feel that constant vacuous ache that goes with it. But, I didn't die so there must be some purpose for me still to be here.
Don't get me wrong, I am glad to have more time to share with my friends and family, and I appreciate the value of that time more now than ever before, but my goal is to find a partner for my life going forward. I have sorted out and put away the baggage from my past. I can see past problems and people in their proper context. What I can't see is why I continually have to live my life alone in regard to love and romance. It's frustrating and I am impatient.
I am putting myself out there to make myself a more visible presence. I go out frequently with friends and also on my own. I am trying - in my own way - to drop some weight. I am entertaining items from pop culture that my peers find interesting, at least to the point that I fail to find said items interesting, but always enough to discuss those items with some degree of familiarity and command. I am polishing my gentlemanly ways. I have even had personal calling cards printed up to use as a bridge from introductory small talk to deeper, continued conversation. Among my circle of close friends, these are referred to as "booty calling cards". Let's face it, I'm not out there recruiting women to come to church; I am unabashedly looking for a lover.
I have surprised myself with my own research to find that my lack of being able to find that special person is as much a part of how I see women, as is how women see me. Case in point...my cards arrived last Thursday; so, I was gonna go out to Bolan's and put them to the test. In the several hours I was there enjoying the open mic entertainment on-hand, I did not run across one single woman I had a notion to give my card to, or to continue any kind of conversation beyond some pleasant bar small talk. Mind you, I met several lovely women there. All were nice in their own right, but there was no "spark" with any of them. That's when it dawned on me...maybe I'm not unpopular with the ladies; maybe, I'm just a way-too-picky prick! It kinda helped to clarify the muddy waters of my romantic pursuits, because now I see this process not so much through the prism of "what's wrong with me?", as much as through the prism of "will I ever find a suitable match?". Even I know it's gonna take a (by all accounts) eccentric woman to love/enjoy/humor/tolerate me, but I think the same goes for most folks.
My friend Jennifer Schaffer says I might have a surprise coming my way. It would be wonderful if it were to be an introduction to a decent woman. If not, I'll hope that some success rests in the cards...especially the "booty calling cards". I had 250 printed; I need only one to work!
"Still the Same", Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band.
This morning I woke up to the sound of my father screaming at my mother and mom crying over money or lawyers or who gets to make what decision, or some such nonsense. Ah, the good 'ol days! While my immediate reaction, due to my history with my father, will always be to go knock the sonofabitch on his ass, I calmed my own feelings, listened for round two, and let them have their spat. It's not my fight. This is the kind of behavior Dad chose to poison my childhood and young adulthood with, and it's the environment my mother chose during my childhood for me to have to endure and have to make sense of on my own from a very early age. I've since forgiven them both for how they allowed me and my sister to grow up in such a toxic and vitriolic environment. Forgiveness does not equal endorsement or acceptance.
I am feeling increasingly more comfortable in my own skin. There are still issues I have to deal with, but I am comfortable with who I am. I have found this comfort by the grace of God, and through exposure to an increasing number of personality types due to the continuing expansion of my social circle, thanks in large part to my dear friend Erica Bragg.
I am still lonely! I'd still do just about anything to find that special woman, lover and partner in my life; I'd do just about anything just to get the loneliness to stop. After leaving the hospital nearly three weeks ago, part of me was pissed that I didn't just die when I had my black-out episode. The loneliness would have been over, and I wouldn't feel that constant vacuous ache that goes with it. But, I didn't die so there must be some purpose for me still to be here.
Don't get me wrong, I am glad to have more time to share with my friends and family, and I appreciate the value of that time more now than ever before, but my goal is to find a partner for my life going forward. I have sorted out and put away the baggage from my past. I can see past problems and people in their proper context. What I can't see is why I continually have to live my life alone in regard to love and romance. It's frustrating and I am impatient.
I am putting myself out there to make myself a more visible presence. I go out frequently with friends and also on my own. I am trying - in my own way - to drop some weight. I am entertaining items from pop culture that my peers find interesting, at least to the point that I fail to find said items interesting, but always enough to discuss those items with some degree of familiarity and command. I am polishing my gentlemanly ways. I have even had personal calling cards printed up to use as a bridge from introductory small talk to deeper, continued conversation. Among my circle of close friends, these are referred to as "booty calling cards". Let's face it, I'm not out there recruiting women to come to church; I am unabashedly looking for a lover.
I have surprised myself with my own research to find that my lack of being able to find that special person is as much a part of how I see women, as is how women see me. Case in point...my cards arrived last Thursday; so, I was gonna go out to Bolan's and put them to the test. In the several hours I was there enjoying the open mic entertainment on-hand, I did not run across one single woman I had a notion to give my card to, or to continue any kind of conversation beyond some pleasant bar small talk. Mind you, I met several lovely women there. All were nice in their own right, but there was no "spark" with any of them. That's when it dawned on me...maybe I'm not unpopular with the ladies; maybe, I'm just a way-too-picky prick! It kinda helped to clarify the muddy waters of my romantic pursuits, because now I see this process not so much through the prism of "what's wrong with me?", as much as through the prism of "will I ever find a suitable match?". Even I know it's gonna take a (by all accounts) eccentric woman to love/enjoy/humor/tolerate me, but I think the same goes for most folks.
My friend Jennifer Schaffer says I might have a surprise coming my way. It would be wonderful if it were to be an introduction to a decent woman. If not, I'll hope that some success rests in the cards...especially the "booty calling cards". I had 250 printed; I need only one to work!
"Still the Same", Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band.
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