Where is the Love...?

The only antidote for loneliness, I think, must be companionship.  Yeah, I know the drill about confidence and self-assurance and all that kind of thing.  I am not dismissing any of that.  It is all important.  What my point is, is that you can read and learn and simulate and strategize how to fly an airplane, but you ain't really ever a pilot 'til you go wheels-up for that first time.

I want to be a lover.  But for all my preparation and effort, I cannot seem to lift off from the runway.  I'm ready.  I'm a decent guy.  I would treat the right woman better than most men could, except for maybe the over-indulgences of crazy, stupid wealth.  But, I'm not competing with the ridiculously wealthy; I'm not competing with anybody at all.  I just want my (our) own space in the flight pattern with all the other lovers up there. 

I am actively "marketing" myself to women I know.  Now, most of these women are not dating prospects, but I figure by showing them signs of who I really am, I might get a referral from at least one of them.  I have taken the good advice I've gained from women friends over the years and I have put it into practice.  I am no longer presenting myself as a desperate loser inviting ladies who could be the target of my affections to walk on the ground that I worship.  Dawn said I did that, and that I tend to put women I'm interested in on a pedestal.  So, I stopped doing that.  One of my biggest issues is getting relegated to the "friend" role by just about every woman I know.  Well, I want to be my special lady's friend, but I want to be her lover, too.  I want to go to her house at three in the morning 'cause she had a bad dream and just needs a pair of relatively strong arms to make the scariness go away.  I want to be the one she calls after leaving a bad day at work, just 'cause she needs somebody to cry to, who will listen without judging.  When her parents get sick, I want to be the one who drives her to the hospital and stays around and waits for her in the waiting room, while she waits on them at their bedside.  My schedule is tight, but my heart and my love is available.  And, I know it would have so much more value to me if I had the opportunity to give it away, than what it has for me by staying bottled up inside me, or having to be used partially as a marketing tool to try to meet this special woman.

It seems ridiculous to be 40 and not to have had this kind of connection when there has been all this good within me all along.  The truth is, too, what I want to be for my companion and lover is also what I want her to be for me.  I have fears and funny stories and feelings, too.  I want someone so incredibly special that I not only share these things about me with her, but that I invest them in her, and that she does the same with me.  Am I looking at love and relationships through rose-colored glasses?  I don't think so.  I think I am looking at how I really want to make myself available to the right woman, but I feel like I keep getting punished by every day that passes without finding her.  The fullness of my happiness and existence - ergo, the end of my loneliness - always comes down to the same question:  Where is she?

"Dream Lover", Bobby Darin.

God, Please Fill These Arms

In the sessions leading up to Vickie's departure, I was trying - not particularly successfully - to steel myself against the emotion of the situation, and also to reassure her that I was somehow "okay" with it.  I acted like things were coming together, and partly through God-given mercy and partly through intention, things did start to come together for me.  With the idea of Vickie leaving and my not knowing who I would see in her absence, I had to find my sense of external validation from other sources.  I got it...from Erica, from Jen, from others, also; but, those two are special to me.  Those two women have bolstered my confidence to seek out companionship.  I don't feel anymore deserving of a woman's affections, 'cause part of me always believed - or, at least, wanted to believe - that I was deserving of that.  I do feel, because of how these women have treated me and how they have included me in some of their fun, that maybe I do have something to offer a woman; that, maybe I am not so awful.  Everyday, my visceral sense of self-hatred and self-doubt seems to get smaller and smaller in my psychological rear view mirror.

Today's song is one Jen posted yesterday on facebook; she has such awesome taste in music!.  I had all but forgotten about this wonderful record.  Though there is no particular connection between the song and the words in this post, there is certainly no disconnect.  This is, after all, how I am feeling about that special woman out there, these days; but, who is she?  I feel like she is so near, but that all the pieces for me to be able to put together who this wonderful, beautiful woman is have not quite fallen into place yet.  I believe God answers my requests, and that He provides signs for me to know when something is right.  I can sense His power at work, here, in this instance, too.  I know she is near.  I just don't know who she is.  I wonder how her identity will be revealed to me...  Maybe she'll give me a rose, like on The Bachelor...lol!

"These Arms of Mine", Otis Redding.

Two Smokin' Girls

After work last night I had the blessing and good fortune to keep the company of two of my favorite people, again - Erica and Jen.  These gals are awesome!  We ended up sittin' around shooting the breeze 'til about 3:30 this morning.  Jen is a bombastic example of unbridled self-confidence; Erica is the flip-side of that coin.  Erica told me that Jen is a good matchmaker, so I let Jen know that my intentionality is to try to get into a meaningful, romantic partnership.  Then, Jen asked the magic question.  What am I looking for?  I was a bit stymied on the spot, but as I drove home I thought about it.

I want a woman who is kind and intelligent.  Sense of humor is an absolute must, and mine, at times, can be rather politically incorrect.  Jen and Erica are actually good examples of the kind of women I like, but I can't help but think that a 28 year old woman would be a bit short-changed by the prospect of being in a relationship with a 40 year old guy.  The flip-side of this issue is I don't like women who are old beyond their years.  I know, 'cause a dated a woman like that for a year one night.  And, I'm not ready to help attend to the grand-kids.  Women with children of their own are fine.  I like a woman with a sense of assertiveness; I don't like women who subvert their interests in favor of whatever the guy wants to do.  The way I feel is, hey, you have a brain, use it!  Heck, you might even teach me something!  I am attracted to a bigger girl; Kristen Bloom is amazing looking, but her chisel doesn't rock my world as much as some nice, soft curves make it sizzle (Jen, DO NOT put this on my head stone!  I know you've got connections with Bethany...behave yourself.).  I want to be with a woman who is a Christian.  I don't need constant or regular religiosity.  I just want to be able to celebrate Christmas and Easter without being made to feel like a fool or like some 17th century colonizing European power broker.  I like women who like to drive sometimes, even if its my car and gas.  I'm no longer much of a drinker.  So, it's not to have a permanent designated driver; it's just that I'm occasionally lazy.  While I enjoy physical intimacy as well as anyone, I don't think I could fully satisfy a woman whose sexual appetite ran anywhere from voracious to insatiable; conversely, I do no want a prude, as a prude could not satisfy my own sexual appetite.  I would like to find a woman who is independent-minded.  I want a woman who wants to do things with me, and also wants to do some things without me, especially while my schedule prevents us from doing things together, but not just then.  I want a woman who can support my attentiveness to my aging parents, even if she doesn't fully understand it.  Bonus points for non-blondes - again, I cannot emphasize enough my respect for intelligence.  Plus, I get tired of the white-out on my computer monitor ;-)  Music is a big part of what gets me by the rough spots.  I am not talented that way, so, if she were to be - hey, more bonus points!  What else?  I like Poe, Hemingway and Steinbeck...and the New York Yankees.  She wouldn't have to like any of these, just as long as she doesn't mind me liking what I like.

"Desire", U2.

Not Just A Number

Last night I stopped at Sean Bolan's after work.  I hung out for about an hour on my own nursing a beer.  Then Erica showed up, and after that, her friend Jen.  Jen had already been celebrating something elsewhere.  Then, she was up singing and playing guitar for open mic, and she had to be up early for work.  They're 28; I'm 40. 

Since I've been hanginging out with them, I've been thinking maybe age is just a number.  After last night, not so much.  I'd like to say I remember being 28 and doing those same sorts of things.  The truth is the period from when I was 25 to 28 is really kinda one big blur, with the finer details - and also some of the major ones - obfuscated by alcohol.  So, these ladies are doing what they are supposed to be doing at their age.  I'm just not there anymore.

I have learned to either completely eschew or drastically temper my imbibitions...a beer then an iced tea then maybe one more beer for the road, usually not.  I gave up my major league indulgences the first time I woke up the second day after a legendary bender and my head still hurt.  That was about six or seven years ago.  They'll come to learn this, too, but in their own time.

So, of course, that gets me to wondering, and also wanting to spin the gears of self-doubt.  Am I really supposed to be hanging out with these folks?  I mean, they do seem to like me, and I thoroughly enjoy their youthful energy and gusto for life.  And, also, will I ever find a woman who is "on the same page" as me, who possesses the wisdom of experience and also a youthful freedom from too much personal inhibition?  I am learning, as I come to really and truly introduce me to myself, that I'm kind of an odd duck.

Are people supposed to be regementally segregated by social propriety and numerical demographics?  I hope not.  My target age range for a suitable companion is 35-45.  Do I need to amend that?  Should I abandon such restriction altogether?  Hell, my best friend in this whole world is 71.  I've never put much stock into rules that are there just for the sake of establishing authority.  Guess I never will. 

Atlantic City should be interesting!

"It Was A Very Good Year", Frank Sinatra.

Sin City East

Well, the ol' social calendar is lighting up brighter than normal these days.  I got invited to Erica's best friend Jen's 28th birthday party weekend in Atlantic City in May.  So far, its lookin' like a small turnout - just the two gals and me, and possibly one other guy.  I hope more of Jen's friend's go; I'm sure it would mean a great deal to her to have lots of friends around.  In any case, it should be a fun time!

Put your make-up on.  Fix your hair up pretty, and meet me tonight in Atlantic City...

"Sin Wagon", Dixie Chicks.

Strike Two!

They say lightning never strikes twice.  When I started working with a therapist in September of 2007, I hit the jackpot by having been assigned to Vickie.  She and I worked so well together that our in-session relationship became almost automatic.  It's like we were both on the same page before either of us ever touched the book.  I figured that was gone forever.

Today, I began sessions with Kerry.  I felt immediately at-ease in her office.  She has a way about her that is very similar to Vickie's way.  She is kind like Vickie.  She is nice to talk to.

Nothing and no one could ever top what I had with Vickie, because Vickie was my first therapist.  Vickie will always be my #1 collaborator.  Vickie will forever remain the standard bearer of what I think a good therapist should be.

Kerry is content to allow me to linger in the memory of sessions with Vickie.  She is ready for the "that's not how Vickie does it" protestations.  She said she wouldn't even be offended if I were to slip up and refer to her as Vickie.  I told Kerry that I am not viewing my therapeutic relationship with her as a competition to the standard that Vickie set in my mind, but rather as a new and different experience.  Kerry seems to like me; and, so far, she seems pretty fantastic, too.  She is kind, and her style and methods of interaction feel familiar.

I think Vickie would approve.  Maybe lightning does strike twice!

"Lightning Strikes", Lou Christie.

Pre Kerry Post

Tomorrow, I begin a new chapter.  I will be seeing a therapist named Kerry Richie, in Bel Air.  My appointment is at 4 o'clock.  It feels funny.  The environment of the therapist's office has become like sacred ground to me.  That is where I can totally drop my guard.  It feels funny - almost to the point of being wrong - to do that with anybody but Vickie.  Honestly, I am misting up now just writing this.  I haven't been this sad from missing Vickie since the day she left her practice.  I had such a good therapeutic relationship, not to mention a friendship, with her, that going to talk about my thoughts and feelings to someone else feels very much like emotional infidelity.  I feel like I am betraying my greatest confidant.  God, how I miss her!

Kerry seems like a nice woman, and I am afraid that all she will get from me is resentment of her being "not Vickie".  I don't want to come off as a jerk to someone who got me in for an appointment at a moment's notice.  None of my feelings of sadness and resentment are her fault. 

Vickie's leaving still had the luxury and comfort of it being about Vickie in relation to my need for a therapist.  Tomorrow, for the first time in my therapeutic experience, its not about my best collaborator.  I hate this!  Of all the doors I've opened and closed to new opportunities and old wounds alike, tomorrow's will be the hardest I've had to walk through.

Damn it, Vickie!  I miss you, and it hurts.

"Everybody Hurts", R.E.M.

Game On

This is only cursorily related to my interaction with Katie.  I am wondering, when what you have been hoping for is a chance for companionship, and a slight opportunity presents itself for said companionship, how do you keep from getting too carried away by that possibility?

I am a cigar is just a cigar kind of guy.  I am not nuanced.  I pride myself in seeing things as they are, sticking only to the facts, and never donning the rose-colored glasses.  Matters of dating and love and romance are based on projections and perceptions of feelings of one person toward another.  I am adept at neither projecting nor percepting.  I think you can see my dilemma.

Often, when I sense the possibility of romantic possibility, I jump the gun.  I once took a girl to dinner and an outdoor movie in Little Italy, who later told me, I acted too much like I was on a date.  Can you see why this whole dating area of life confuses a "just the facts" kinda guy?   I knew this woman from high school and hadn't seen her in about 18 years, or so.  I found her pleasant in both personality and appearance, so I asked her to dinner and the outdoor movie, which, by the way, was "On the Waterfront" with Marlon Brando, so she even got the benefit of my recitation of the "I coulda been a contendah..." line.  Still, no dice.  I was not making any kind of play to try to get her into bed, not even going for a kiss, but she still had me pegged as having "acted too much like I was on a date".  I mean, what else do you call it when a single guy and a single gal go out for dinner and some fun at a social venue?  To me its a date, regardless of what happens down the road - to her, not so much. 

That is what gives rise to my notion that I am grotesque and repulsive to women.  Otherwise, what's the harm in calling a night out on the town - platonically, romantically or whatever - a date?  Or, maybe its just all semantics...?

"It's All in the Game", Tommy Edwards.

Out Last Night

So, yesterday I worked the 2:30-10:30 evening shift.  That is by far my favorite, because - one -
you get to sleep in, and - two - there are still places to go when work is over.

I headed for the diner to go see Erica.  She was knocking off early, and asked if I wanted to go to Bolan's to help plan a birthday get-together for her friend Jen.  So we did.  We had a few drinks and a couple of her friends stopped by our table, then one of my friends showed up on the smokers' balcony.  This was a person I had not seen in a while and we got to talking.  Erica left, and I was still there sipping my last beer - Erica wanted to split a pint of Blue Moon; I HATE BLUE MOON! - but, I'm old school, and what the lady wants, the lady gets. 

So, this friend, Katie was there with a guy who seemed like her date, but she kept talking to me.  I sensed that she was not having the best of evenings with the guy who was there with her.  She kept talking to me about a mutual, deceased friend whom, incidentally, was also named Erica, and my photography and her photography.  So, while I was glad to see Katie, I felt a bit like a third-wheel.  I tried to steer the conversation back into a more general direction to include this other guy.  I kept looking for an entrance to make my exit, and finally found it.  Quite perplexingly, I was surprised how, when I left, the scent of Katie lingered on my fancy for the rest of the evening.

Now mind you, I do not know this woman very well at all.  She is 32, and definitely out of what I consider a proper age range for me.  Plus, she has three kids, and I'm still not quite sure how I feel about dating a woman with children.  Her social status is listed as "single" on facebook.  So, if interested, I guess I do have that one snowball's chance in hell of getting her to dinner, or some other social venue.

My trouble is - and, this is not a fishing-for-compliments statement, just how I honestly feel - I cannot imagine a woman wanting to be seen out socially with me in any way, shape, form or fashion.  I am ugly.  I am fat.  I am starting to grey up around the temples.  I wish I could redirect these feelings, but everytime I pass a mirror, I think to myself, "Who do you think you're kidding, that a woman would even give you a first glance, let alone a second look or a chance?".  This is a big part of the lingering self-hatred and feeling of being a failure, a loser, or whatever other nice name I can throw at myself.  At the same time, I feel horribly lonely, and desperately want for a woman to want me around.  It's a conundrum.  I know confidence is key, but the only traits about which I am confident are very negative, and reasons why my failure at relationships should continue.  I need someone to help me find the reset button.

"Out Last Night", Kenny Chesney.

Subtle Reminders

A television show.  A song on the radio.  Looking at your friends' facebook status.  Reminders.

No matter how much you think you are making progress, no matter how much you think you are getting better, no matter how much you convince yourself that you are working towards your own happiness, sometimes the reality of just how lonely you really are grabs you in its clutches and will not release its grip no matter what kind of positive spin you try to put on it.  You can don the brave-face.  You can invest your hope in some forward looking goal.  But, in the present moment, you can't feel anything but lonely, and you wonder if all the rest is just a pipe dream.

"Always Something There to Remind Me", Naked Eyes.

Gimme Three Days

I want three days to myself.  One day to just sleep.  One day to get out and do something social.  One day to just relax.

When a person gets weary from their resources and time being placed in constant demand, that person finds out who his friends are.  I called my sister yesterday to tell her that I was putting in a hellacious schedule between work and the nearly constant needs of transportation and errand running for our parents; mind you, these are her parents, too.  I even told her how she could help...by making herself available on the weekend of May 5 & 6.  She says she doesn't know what to do if she is not asked.  I think that is a bit of bull, because she knows of the constantly present need.  So, after I told her what the specific need was, what did I get?  "I'm sorry.".  I'm sorry; not, "I'm sorry, and yes I will be there to help you.".  Not, "I'm sorry, and can't I do something this week?".  She's just sorry...and that's as far as it will go.

My parents, especially my mother, let her get away with this.  But because she complains at every little thing, or tries to rearrange my parents needs to suit her own agenda, and I go along peacably until I become absolutely overwhelmed, all the demands are placed on me.  It is getting tiresome!

I have had non-relative, out-of-state friends offer me a get-away, but I cannot take them up on their offer because my sister refuses to step up to keep things going here.  I'm quite tired of her self-centeredness, and I would like some time for me...three days.

"Gimme Three Steps", Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Therapists Should Come With A Warranty

I had planned to put off returning to therapy for a full month after Vickie's departure.  Little did I know that I was being optimistic in that assumption.  Got a recommended name from Vickie, and found a potential possibility for a new therapist on my own as well.  I called to set up an appointment with the therapist Vickie recommended.  Her first available appointment is not until May 16.  The one I found on my own is no longer accepting new patients.

This whole proceess of switching up to a new therapist has completely turned around my notion of who I am, as I came to understand it.  I go to therapy because I have trouble maintaining a successful social life.  So, I get to a point where I am talking to people and being invited out to parties, and such.  Then, my therapist leaves.  I keep making more social connections and getting more invitations.  I still, also, have some psychological hurdles to conquer.  Now, I can't find an available therapist!

Somebody or something is screwin' with me!

"Crazy", Aerosmith.

Michael J Hoffman: Take 2 (part 2 of 2)

Well, that didn't work out nearly as well as I had hoped.  Yesterday, I unexpectedly found out that I could have off today.  So, I texted my mother telling her I had off today.  She didin't miss a beat and said, "Good.  I'll schedule my x-rays and blood test for tomorrow.".  She never even asked if I had planned to do something for myself.  In fairness to her, I had previously agreed to take her for said tests after work today.  But then, when I got the day off, tests turned into tests and lunch at Cracker Barrel and various errand running.  When I told her that it felt like she assumed my time when she didn't even bother to ask about my own intentions for my day off, she spewed some vitriol about how she and my father help me, too; how I make her feel like a burden; and, how I will have plenty of time to myself once her eyes and Dad's close for good.  She went on to say how when they ask favors of me, they do it in such a way as to not interfere with the way I like to live my life.  She said that they schedule appointments in the afternoon, so I can sleep in.  But tomorrow I have to have Mom to a deposition in Hunt Valley at 9:30.  There have been numerous times I've had to have Mom or Dad checked into the hospital by 6 a.m., on surgery day.  When Mom's physical problems started I was up for 30 hours straight while she was in the hospital.

My parents are not a burden; however, their nearly constant demands on my time, not to mention more than just a little of my money, occasionally can be.  My sister, her husband and two kids are all fit as fiddles and have done little to nothing to contribute to help share the load of my parents' needs.  Today, they were off having fun in DC and dinner at Don Pablo's in Baltimore while I was sitting in the car for two hours waiting for x-rays and blood tests to be completed, running errands, and counting quarters to pay bills.  Something's gotta give.  I don't resent anything I do to help, but I do resent that I'm allowed to continually do it without any additional demand being placed on my sister.  The family that I have not had the time to find is suffering at least as much from not having my presence, as Jennifer's real family would suffer by her being away on any given day.  Yeah, I'm a little pissed!  But Mom doesn't want to upset Jennifer.  And she won't admit it, but she doesn't want to upset her 'cause she has the grandchildren; I don't.  When you are an adult child without a family of your own, and especially without kids of your own, you never stop being treated like a kid, even when you're 40.  My time is assumed, my money is assumed, and the value of my contribution is diminished because, one, I am to readily at-hand living under the same roof, and, two, my lack of children to entertain "Maw-Maw" diminishes my value, if not in my mother's conscious feelings, than definitely by way of her subconscious actions.  Things need to change!

Michael J Hoffman: Take 2 (part 1 of 2)

Change tends to feed on itself.  With Vickie leaving, I have begun to consider not only where and how I fit in with others in my life, but also where and how they fit in with me.  The importance of my own personal needs is becoming as much a matter of concern for me as is tending to the personal needs of others.

I have generally lived my life as a care-giver and a people pleaser.  I do feel called by God to help my parents through their older years.  That will not change.  However, I now see the need to create space for my own needs.  I see that there will be times when they will want me to do something and I will have to say no, in favor of doing something I want to do.  I will always be available for any real emergency need.  That is my role in this family, be it by choice or default.  I don't mind this so much, because I am a natural crisis manager.

I am concerned about the possible conflict and hurt feelings this newly acquired penchant for self-assertion might bring.  So, I figure I will steep the idea into the minds of the people around me.  Following the first time I deny one of their chores in favor of one of my own activities, I will - and, in fact, have - let the issue linger a bit, like a peaty single malt.  I will try to gradually increase the frequency of doing my own thing at the expense of doing their thing with/for them. 

to be continued...

Chronic Loneliness

It's coming out of nowhere sometimes, and I can't seem to keep it together.

A Matter of Perspective

There is a subtle, but very important difference between wanting to be in a healthy relationship and not wanting to be lonely.

"Only Lonely", J D Souther.

Be Careful What You Wish For, But Believe You'll Get It

As I was driving home from the diner last night listening to my iPod and enjoying my "me time", I got to thinking, maybe I should be careful what I wish for and what I wish away.  This newfound self-confidence thing is taking me places, emotionally, where I have not been in a very long time.  One of those places is enjoying who I am, as I am, right now and totally in the moment.  Now, mind you, I am quite emphatically certain I want to find a top notch partner to share this with.  The right woman could only make my experience better at this point, but that person is not just any woman.  She will have to be very special.

A woman who is going to be able to love me and to receive the full benefit of my love must absolutely be a strong individual.  I think that I am someone who wants to be, but does not absolutely need to be, in a relationship.  I think in order for a woman to fully get on with me she must be of a similar mindset.  I could not long tolerate a relationship where one partner had to defer to the other as a condition of their normal routine.  Honestly, I would not benefit from that kind of deference in either direction.  I still feel called by God to be a care provider and crisis manager for my parents and for their household.  So, I would need to meet a woman who can, genuinely and without compromise, respect that aspect of who I choose to be, even if she does not fully understand it. 

I am fairly certain that there probably are not many women in the world who could accept me and also be willing to share my time with the demands that are already in place in my life.  That said, I believe there is someone for everyone, and that the special woman I have described does exist.  I just have to find her.  I'm workin' on it, and puttin' the feelers out, too!

"Freedom! '90", George Michael.

Takin' a Chance on Love

I am actively back on the market and looking to date in a way that could possibly lead to a meaningful relationship.  During the several weeks leading up to Vickie's departure from the practice, I started feeling the need to go seek out the company and comfort of a good woman and the ability to reciprocate that same sense of mutual enjoyment, autonomy and support.  I was careful, though, to make sure that what I was wanting was not just a preemptive rebound to cushion my feelings against the pain of Vickie's departure.  Well, I faced the departure and handled it with strength, with emotion, and with my dignity intact.  I miss Vickie and I want to find someone to date in a meaningful way, but not because I miss Vickie.  I even discussed this with my waitress friends - I call them my "diner divas" - at the Double T in Bel Air.  Erica reassured me that she also thought I was ready and in a good position to go looking for a relationship/dating scenario.  Now, the challenge I face is finding someone my age to date.

It seems like all the women I know who are my age are working on either their third child or their first divorce.  Erica and all her friends are in their late 20s and just a bit out of my desired age range of 35-45 years old; and, I'm quite sure I'm out of their desired age range, too.  Even with a bit of allowance on either end of that range, they still seem a bit young, and our pop culture references are just a bit too different.  They are wonderful, beautiful young women, though. 

Meeting quality, available, single women my age is tough.  At 40 years old, women are perched precariously between the roles of MILF and Cougar, but, generally speaking, are unable to fully claim one or the other.  I had one 37-year-old woman respond to me via an internet singles platform.  She nearly immediately (as in less than one half hour into our first conversation) went into questioning why I do not have or desire to have children of my own.  She told me that her daughter was the result of a withdrawal from the sperm bank, that she wanted to have more children by way of the same donor's specimen, and that she plans to adopt special needs children out of foster care.  Whoa, hon!  Can't we just start with coffee and work our way up to the sperm bank and adoption agency?  Can you spell T.M.I.?!  WOW!  Next. 

So, I am looking for ideas that are not internet based to meet quality, subtle women around my age for the purposes of strategic, targeted dating.  Any advice?

"Love for Sale", Cyrille Aimee.  

If You Come to a Fork in the Road, Take It

Things are beginning to change rapidly in my life.  The most notable of these changes is how I see my own role in relationship to those around me.  A few individuals who I thought would always be there for me have proven that they really cannot be counted on for support.  These are good people, and I believe they have good intentions, but, for whatever reason, they are either unable or unwilling to make good on those intentions.  I am not angry at them, but I need to stop relying on them for my own sense of self-worth, because they end up hurting me.  My friend Patti is of the mindset that you are all you have.  By and large, I think that may be true.  But, there are people, very special individuals, who are the exception to that rule.  I generally like to consider myself as one of those exceptions, though, I'm sure I've failed many people many times.

I am also considering my role here at home with my parents.  At first, it was to be peacemaker.  Now, it is to be an ad hoc care provider.  My care provision seems, lately, to be needed on an ever-increasing basis.  I feel like this is my God-given Christian purpose right now, to help care for Mom and Dad and to provide them with as worry free an environment as possible for them to heal from their various conditions and ailments.  I do not resent my Christian obligation to do this.  In fact, it is the fulfillment of a life-long dream:  to create a sense of unity and peace in a household that didn't enjoy those benefits while I was growing up.  I have put all that upheaval behind me, by way of the gifts of prayer, therapy and forgiveness.

For the first time in my life, I believe myself to be worthy of happiness.  I also - again, for the first time - believe that I have made adequate psychological space for the attendant emotions and feelings that go along with a relationship that is healthy and fulfilling for both parties.  My biggest hurdle now is that of impatience.  When I decide to do something, I generally will stop at nothing to begin and, in very short order, complete the process.  Affairs of the heart are not so neatly packaged.  I cannot believe that God wants me to suffer through the loneliness I feel.  I believe He must have someone for me, somewhere out there.

"Somewhere Out There", Linda Ronstadt & James Ingram

It's 5 O'Clock Somewhere

Unfortunately, it is 5 o'clock right here and right now, but it ain't quittin' time.  It's nearly time to wake up the rooster, but I can't sleep.

I talked to my friend Deb last night who is helping me through my current bout of depression fueled by loneliness.  She has been where I am, and even she doesn't have the answers.  I keep searching for answers and, despite my newfound confidence, I'd like to go back to the old trick of beating myself up emotionally over that which bothers me.  I should be more this, or less that.  I'm too fat, too short, too old, not rich enough, not handsome enough, too smart, too aloof, not personable enough, too needy, too friendly, etc.

Even though I've had recently successful social outings, this loneliness still impinges on my confidence, because I am still, without exception, "all alone at the end of the evening", as the Eagles so aptly penned:

"Take It To The Limit", The Eagles.

Loneliness is Tough

So, my jumping off point (no pun intended) with Vickie is having arrived to a level of self-confidence wherein it feels natural to offer myself socially as a person who is both available and worthy to date.  Arriving at this point is a huge victory and hard-won battle for me, personally, and a testament to Vickie's work and caring, too.

The flip-side of owning and using all this newly accepted sense of self-confidence is that it sort of resets the contuinance of progress to a new starting point.  I am not Brad Pitt.  The idea of me having women lined up, clamoring over themselves to meet me is not realistic.  I will have to go out repeatedly and hope to run across the right individual.  My good friend Erica tells me that one of our mutual friends is a good match-maker, and that I should describe the kind of woman I am looking to date and she will find for me an agreeable companion.  At this point, I just have to say, "What the heck!", and go with it.  After all, she can do no worse than I've done up to this point.

Then, there is the loneliness.  It is continuing and pervasive.  The thing with loneliness is it just never seems to go away.  No matter how much of a brave face you try to put on, no matter how much you try to spin it, it's there.

"Only the Lonely", Roy Orbison.

Hard to Say Goodbye

I have been seeing the same therapist since September of 2007.  Last year, she let me know that if she should become expectant with a second child, she would be taking indefinite leave from her practice.  I understand, logically, how this is the best thing for her family.  Unfortunately, it is not so great for me, as we have made tremendous strides in working toward a more psychologically healthy, more confident, and more self-assured me.

In the Summer of 2007, I was bottoming out, emotionally.  My dear friend Dawn suggested that I at least try talking to a therapist.  So, I checked with my insurance through work, and I set up the first appointment.  From the very first appointment, Vickie was amazing!  She took the time and effort to understand me in a way that no one else has ever fully done before.  We have tackled big issues and small.  She's gotten me through some baseless fears.  She helped bring me to a place where I was able to forgive some perceived wrongs enacted upon me in the past by people very close to me.

As time went on, our therapeutic relationship reached a degree of personal familiarity.  Honestly, we became friends.  Sometimes, on special occasions we would share cards or gifts, but never in ways that were inappropriate.  So, needless to say, when the final session came on this past Wednesday, it was difficult to say goodbye.  I ended our in-session relationship by playing "I'll Be Seeing You" by Dean Martin.  She gave me a hug goodbye, and I left.

When I arrived in Vickie's office in 2007, I was so uptight, I couldn't even sit comfortably in any way that put me or anyone around me, including Vickie, at-ease.  She gently and sensitively called me out on it.  We fixed that together, and have worked from that point to building me up to where I am comfortable enough with me to put myself out there socially.  There is still work to be done, namely, how to handle the newly sought out attention I am receiving.  Vickie knows that, and has referred me to my choice between two of her colleagues.  She also is going to stay in touch with me on a quarterly basis to monitor my progress.  Vickie is awesome, and I love and miss her greatly!

"I'll Be Seeing You", Dean Martin.