tiredoffeelingbad

5-19-12

At the library in between dropping off and picking up Sybil.  Is it mean that I call my darling daughter that?  I guess she is a chip off the old block.  Also a Gemini, so we are SUPPOSED to have at least twins inside of us.  I just had a manicure and an extra 10 minute massage.  Absolutely heavenly.  I am adding massages to my list of “what makes me happy”.

So far we have:

– working out

– reading

– listening to music I like either because I know the words and can sing to it, or it has a good beat to work out to, or I just like it

– massages –  a little bit of heaven on earth

– making people smile and laugh

I’m sure there’s more,  but……..not what I want to talk about. 

I am actually feeling good.   I don’t know if the menopausal hormones have taken a break, but I have felt good for the last two or three days.  I don’t remember feeling this good for a while.  I am enjoying it and trying to remember what it feels like in case the hormones return. 

I am not obsessing about my gym boys.  I like them and we are friends, but I am not thinking that the latest and greatest one is going to save me (FB).  Probably because we had a chat on Thursday, the day after the therapist freed me.  I was telling him about what happened and we got into this long conversation.  I realized that when he is doing his workout he is too focussed to talk.  He is downright curt and doesn’t have the time.  So, I had to wait for him to finish. 

We discussed relationships.  He had had a seven year relationship with a foreign woman that was hard to get out of, but when he finally left, he felt free.  I think he was also doing drugs at the time from what he said.  He is definately a bad boy.  I told him that I didn’t even like Jack anymore and he came up with a financial strategy for leaving.  Sell the house, split the equity, and buy a two bedroom condo where the kids could visit.  Sounded plausible.

Then, however, was when his intentions became clear.  Somehow we talked about having “rocking” sex.  Just for sex sake.  I told him that I learned from the last time that I get emotional afterwards, so just as the guy is kind of finished with me, I get attached.  I can’t wait to see him again and he could care less.  It is not a good feeling.   It’s just what happens.  He said, “well, at least you’re honest.”

So I’m thinking that even though we discussed this great motorcycle trip to California, he obviously has no emotional attachment to me which completely shattered my fantasy of true loves driving out West.  Which, for some reason, did not leave me heartbroken at all.  The fantasy of him helped me get over my last ass hole’s new girlfriend that I have to see him with every day at the gym, and so that was useful.  I don’t know if I would like FB anyway.  He is kind of a dick, if the truth be told.  He definately has a nice butt, though, but where does that REALLY get you?      Probably not a good fit.  Bad boys are fun temporarily.  I will have to think about it. 

Oh, right, I am married.  I always forget.  Well, in name anyway.  We haven’t been getting along and have no physical relationship at all.  So, my fantasies have helped me escape my real life.    Instead of dealing with the lack of money or sex or companionship or hope for the future, I simply obsess about my latest crush.  It works for right now.

Since this is kind of pathetic on some level, I am coming up with a new game plan for a new paradigm of living:   ABUNDANCE, EASE AND JOY.  All I have to do is think about these words, and my body relaxes.   The old paradigm was STRESS, STRUGGLE, and DOOM.  There was no escape and I was often tired and gloomy and my body hurt.  

STEP 1:  I made an appointment with yet another financial planner.  Jack actually likes this one which is a miracle.    Jack was a real ass hole during the meeting – he was saying how I always talk as if we are broke.  NEWS FLASH – WE ARE, DICK WEED.  We have about $6000 worth of bills this month to pay and no moo-lah to pay them with.  Am I just supposed to sit here grinning like an idiot while he goes and spends more money that we don’t have?  Just give me a lebotomy, please, if that’s the case.

I told him the next day that he was a REAL ASS HOLE in the meeting, and he said, “I was?  Gee, I guess I don’t even know I am doing it?  What did I do?”  he asks with this innocent little look.  I felt like smashing his dumb little head.    Does ignorance excuse him from talking about me like I am a crazy, deranged loon?  Shitty behavior is shitty behavior.  That’s one of my lessons from the dearly departed doctor.   I am no longer going to sit there and take it thank you very much.  Powerful Priscilla (forgot what I called myself) is here to stay.  No messing with me anymore.  I feels a lot better than just sitting there and being victimized!!!!!!

So, last night, I uswed my new improved approach to his assoholicness.  When he said something rude, I gave him the finger.  The next time I said, “speak for yourself, ass hole.”  When I mentioned it later he said he liked that I was sticking up for myself.  Fuck me man.  This therapist really helped me, I guess – before I would just seethe silently and hate him and cry the next day at the gym over my miserable life.  This is a little invigorating.   I am woman hear me ROAR!!!

The only problem was we had a guest over at the time who was kind of caught in the middle of it.  He looked a little uncomfortable.  Oh well, the casualties of war.  I guess I will apologize for making him feel uncomfortable.

But, on the whether to leave the marriage torture question, the feeling of having to leave is gone now that I know that FB was only into casual sex.   I don’t need to hurry up and leave so that he doesn’t find someone else.  I was panicking that he would give up on me.

Well, there’s nothing to give up except a fling, I guess.  No true love there except in my mind. 

As for the casual sex, I don’t really think that it would work for me.  I mean, the beginning is awesome – they are SO nice when they are pursuing you.  The last guy made me feel like I was the sexiest, hottest chick on the planet. 

After being rejected by my husband for so many years, it was a wonderful, intoxicating feeling to have.  I was dumbfounded but thrilled.  Somebody actually lusts for this 52 year old body?  Wowowowowowow!!!!  Who wouldn’t have loved that after being ignored and not touched for so long?  I wasn’t going to do anything, but thought, I may never have sex again for the rest of my life?  How could I let this chance go?  Who else would have the nerve to approach a married woman?  So, the seed was planted so to speak.

The part that wasn’t fun was when all of a sudden the pursuit was gone and I was put on the back burner and practically forgotten about.  What happened?  Got what he wanted, I guess.  This was my one and only excursion, so to speak.  I certainly learned my lesson.  I mean, parts of it were fun.  It was so exhilarating that it was like a drug.  I couldn’t get enough, but it was because I FELT SO GOOD in terms of being desired and wanted. Feeling like a hot sexy chick was awesome.  BUT, in retrospect, I didn’t feel that way all the time.  The anxiety of not knowing when we could get together or whether I would hear from him was not fun at all. 

I would go from feeling like a “hot sexy chick” to “old, fat and ugly” in a matter of minutes or hours.  One text and I was hot and sexy.  No text and Pathetic Patty was going to town telling me how unlovable I am and how I probably blew it and I was no good.  So I vacillated from extreme highs to extreme lows and it wasn’t REALLY a good time overall in retrospect.  At the time, I was living for the texts and stolen moments because they made me feel alive, and I hadn’t felt alive in a long time. 

That’s how the fantasies make me feel as well.  Like I am truly loved and desired.  Since they are only in my mind, I can write them with very happy endings.  When reality enters in though, I get upset.  But, who needs reality when you can write your own fantasies?.  One day I will write it out.  I would probably be embarassing, but who cares?  It’s like a romance novel – no reality need apply itself.

5-17-12

True confessions of a closet blogger.  I actually just wrote a post on my “closet blog” because I didn’t want anyone to read it.  So much for truth, but it was the real me.

I think it’s time to introduce you to some of my other personalities.  I first discovered these “people” when I was joking around with my friends.  I did describe the discovery in my blogger.com blog, so I will keep this brief.

I always knew there were two sides of me: one was Happy Hilda who was the life of the party, fun, always up, full of possibility for the future and I would call her “Being on the Right Side”.  Then there was the “OTHER SIDE”.  She was negative, no energy, full of doom and gloom, nothing was going well, no hope, no light, no possibility for anything other than misery,

I tried to right about these two sides, but, again, it lies in one of my computers.  I thought it might be helpful to others.  When my friends realized we had these people inside us that basically beat ourselves up, we named them:  We had Stupid Stu who didn’t go to the doctors for 10 years and ended up with breast cancer so she was beating herself up.  We had Missy the Mistake who was the 5th girl in her family and her father always wanted a boy so that explains her.  And then there was me – Pathetic Patty.  Everything I do is wrong – everything.  I just can’t get it right.  Who could love this girl when I can’t stand her?

We had a good time naming these other people, but since then, I have discovered in myself – Bad Betty, Evil Evilyn, Passive Aggressive Pauline, and today’s special Mean/Mad Martha.  Well, I thought it was Bad Betty who wrote that other blog, but I think she teamed up with Mean/Mad Martha who I will call Triple M.

The reason Triple M and BB wrote the blog was because I just came out of a visit with my therapist.  I have seen her three times in an attempt to get out of my funk.  To figure out what exactly is wrong with me – Patty wanted to know. 

Today she suggested I go on medication.  Then she told him I had to get happy.  Then she objected to a word I used which, while I don’t blame her for asking me not to use the word (retard), I didn’t like the way she said it.

I silently decided to quit and not come back.  BUT, being the grown up that I have become, I actually told her that I didn’t like what she said.  AND, that I was going to cancel.

It was big of me to tell her because my mojo is to just run when it doesn’t feel safe.  Now, I am trying not to swear, but I will make an exception since I will put it in quotes.  I want to scream “DON’T FUCKING TELL ME TO BE HAPPY, BITCH!!!”   No one tells ME how to be.  FUCK YOU!!!!

She told me it’s time to stop running away from my critical parents.   I said (while crying) that it doesn’t feel safe anymore and I feel like I have to be (fucking) happy now to be there or she will want to medicate me.  She said it is safe.  When she asked if I would return, I said yes, but Bad Betty is telling me no f———–g way.

We will see.  If I have to go pay her and pretend to be happy, what is the point?  I told her I only tell her about the times where I need to work through something.  I am not always that way.  I guess, in all fairness, the 3 hours she has spent with me I have cried so much that I used up her tissues.

But, isn’t that why I am paying her?  So I can be myself without judgement?   I will have to think about this.

The reason why I went was to get out of this fog.  Not so I can go pretend to be happy.  I just have to sit with this one.  I don’t need another person telling me how to be.  I have enough that do it for free.

To fill you in, some people have a critical parent.  I had three growing up and now I have 5.  My mother, my father and my older sister were there to tell me what was wrong with me growing up.  Since marriage, I now have my husband and my thirteen year old daughter, who I have named Sybil for purposes of my blogs for obvious reasons.

This is what I need to work on.  Feeling confident in myself and my own decisions.  Not letting others send me to the other side and bringing out Patty who always agrees with every bad thing anyone says.  I need to have Confident Cathy be born.

Well, more later.  Sybil needs a ride from the bus stop.  She has a widdle cold and doesn’t feel good so I will be nice for once.  People Pleasing Pamela to the rescue.

Thanks for listening.  I don’t know what I figured out, but I feel better.

5-15-12

I am excited about having my own domain name.  I am excited about this new blog.  My cousin finally got into my old blog after I created this new one, but that’s good, because if anyone wants to go back, they can.  Blogger.com and same name as this one.

I will use some of my old blog if I need to.  I feel like I am getting to start all over again which is good.  Again, the rules will apply to all posts, so if you didn’t read them, there is a warning attached to this blog.  RULE #1:  READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.  If you know me, I will probably talk about you and it will probably NOT BE GOOD. 

Not because you are bad, but because this blog ends up being a journal and the reason I usually write in my journal is that I am upset.  I am usually upset by what people say to me.   I usually write so I can work it out in my mind and move on.  That is my technique.  It might not be interesting to you, but if not, Rule number 2 applies.  DON’T JUDGE!!!  I judge myself very well thank you very much and don’t need your help.

Also, some things I decided in my first blog. 

1.  I change names to protect the innocent/guilty.

2.  I tell the truth.

3.  I have multiple personalities that I name.  You will get to know them. 

4.  I have people that I obsess/fantasize about even though I am married.  They help me cope.

5.  I have FEELINGS.  They are ok.  They come and they go.  They aren’t WHO I AM.  They can come and go very fast.

6.  I have done and will do things that I am not necessarily anxious for people to know.  BUT, in the interest of my quest to “Not Feel Bad,” I am going to share them.  I am not using my real name because of this.  I don’t condone my behavior, but I understand why I have done certain things.  I will not apologize for what I have done unless it has hurt somebody other than myself.

7. I feel guilty for talking badly about the people I know, but…..again, in the interest of having a great life rather than a “suck life”, I am willing to share myself freely.  I am fearful of people learning who I am, but since I have told some friends about my new “domain” name, that is a possibility.  I am most concerned about my family, and to them, I apologize in advance.  You are my living laboratory.

8.  My dream and hope is that this will be helpful to others who may be stuck.  My dream is to Inspire People to Live the Lives They’ve Always Dreamed Of nand yet, I have not been living my Dream Life at all.  Shame on me.  This is a quest to have that life that I spoke about before I got married.  I hope this can help someone else to get free.

9.  I will write as if you are my friends.  I thank you in advance for listening.  That is the greatest gift you can give someone.  I am excited about this journey.  You have given me hope for the future and I thank you and thank God. 

10.  I am obsessed with my daily work outs.  I have been going at 5:00 AM for a while for reasons that will become obvious in future posts. 

11.  I have developed a habit of spending at least one minute trying to quiet my “very, very busy mind.”  I try to  get present with my body sensations and any emotions that I am not letting come to the surface.

 Today I spent my “minute of quiet”  thinking about my life and realized, once again, that no one is coming to save me.  I felt despair and hopelessness and envisioned myself as a powerless two dimensional figure made out of paper.  I looked like a gumby figure made out of paper.  I couldn’t even stand on my own.  I felt powerless and helpless.

That is when I asked God for help.  I realized that I can’t get past this despair and struggling existence without God’s help.  It is not that I am a religious being, it is just that I felt so overwhelmingly helpless.  It was a terrible feeling, but  the control freak in me finally decided to let go of control and ask God for help.

In some weird way,   I feel that this new blog is God’s way of helping me to fulfill my purpose.   I have been writing various books and journals for years, but never did anything with them after my first book.  Once the first was rejected by a couple of publishers, I mentally gave up and  “went under.”   Whatever I wrote after that has remained safely in my computer.

One day my friend, Missy, suggested I write a blog.   I didn’t even know what a blog was, and ignored her.  After several more of her suggestions, I finally asked around to how I could start one. 

I started my first one about a month ago and felt like I was “coming out.”  It was scary, but since know one knew about it, it was basically safe for me.  This new blog is really “coming out of the closet”, so to speak.  I am embracing my fear and going to go for it.

I am exhilarated by this sense of adventure.  

Thanks again for listening.  You are a good friend!!!!!  (Really?  Really?  Said, with the Saturday Night Live sarcasm!!!!)  Yes, you are.  Anyone who has made it this far is a good friend.

Hello and Welcome.  I just migrated my blog from blogger.com because of two reasons:

Reason 1:  I was excited that I finally had some followers on my old blog on blogger.com until I looked at the source of the followers.  The source was a porn site of adorable and NAKED  Emma Watson from the Harry Potter movies – Disturbing fact #1.

Reason 2:  I asked my cousin to read the blog and she couldn’t get into it to read. 

 I thought the point of a blog was for people to read it.  When my cousin couldn’t figure out how to view it I realized this might be a problem, so I tried myself.  Couldn’t figure it out either.  I have now switched to wordpress.  I am  testing out THIS site to see if it is better.

 My old blog was on Blogger.com and it was my first attempt to publish “Tired of Feeling Bad,” an ongoing journal of my struggles to “Not Feel So DAMN BAD”.  I don’t feel bad ALL the time, only SOMETIMES.  (If anyone figures out how to get into that blog, please let me know.)

I don’t want you to think I am ALWAYS FEELING BAD.  I’m really not.  Life is actually pretty good, in actuality.  I mean, it could be a lot worse, I know that and I am grateful for my blessings.  It’s just that I don’t feel that I have anything to look forward to ……..

My story is that for 16 something years of marriage I ate myself into a weight gain of 40 pounds.  I couldn’t lose it for anything until I joined Weight Watchers.  I mean, I had lost 20 pounds several times, but it always came back.  This time, about 2 years ago, I joined weight watchers and I have not missed a weekly weigh in in all that time.  Have I been the fastest or biggest loser?  No way, Jose, BUT, I have been consistent and I am down enough to feel good about myself again.

What I learned through the process was more valuable than the number of pounds.  The reason I was eating was because I was miserable in my life.  Not all the time, but alot of the time.  There were issues that I was eating about:

– no sex with the husband

– no relationship with the husband – we were basically room-mates

– no physical anything with the husband

– no money and no savings and a husband who spends regardless of what we have which translates to no security or future in terms of vacations, enjoyment or retirement

Those were the big 4.  When I stopped eating and felt the actual emotions (a first), I realized I was pretty sad.  REALLY SAD!!!  AND, I was blaming myself for the marriage not working.  Feeling like I should be happy with what I have, blah, blah, blah……………

This blog is my journey.  It’s mine.  AND there ARE RULES.

RULE 1:  Read at your own risk.  If I know you, I may say bad things about you.  I am not going to filter what I say because then it is not honest.  So, if you want to read and you get hurt, I apologize in advance.

RULE 2:  No judging.  I judge myself and that’s enough – at least for now.  I criticize myself constantly and when someone else does it, it sends me over the edge.  You will meet Pathetic Patty soon.

That’s it.  If you don’t like what I write or how I write it, see Rule 2 PLEASE.  AND, if you must criticize or offer advice, ask permission first.  OK, that’s RULE 3. 

RULE 3:  ASK PERMISSION BEFORE OFFERING ADVICE.

While there is more to say, I really must get to work. 

So, thanks for listening and there will be much juicier stuff to come.

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