please everyone take the time to reach out to this man and help give him some words of encouragement. Depression lies and I’d hate to see a child lose a parent. Thanks blogosphere.
I hate my ex……I hate the courts…..I hate the attorneys……I hate the counselors……I hate this time of year anymore it used to be a time of joy, now it’s just pain, never ending pain. Much to the thanks of my divorce. God you can suck it!!!!! Why is the whole system out against fathers? Why? Why? I don’t understand, I am a good father or at least that is what I am told. I feel like a horrible failure. I keep trying to find new reasons not just say “I’m done”. The list is becoming extremely short. This fight has started its third year, I am amazed as I look at photos of my son, I completely break down and cry. I am so tired of this fight. I was told the other day that they thought I had a warriors heart, I’m not sure. I’m not sure I have…
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Went to the doctor last Friday. She assured me my crazy is under control. I always get manic this time of year and I need to find something to distract my mind. I did find out I have staph infection causing the cystic acne. Ewww!
Now I’m home for the last two days with the creepy crud and general eunni due to what forecasters are calling the “Bering Bomb”. Thanks Alaska, NOT! Keep your shitastic arctic weather to yourself.
I’m not feeling well today, so this is all I feel like writing. Back to bed and hibernating till morning.
This will be an ongoing category on my blog. I’m not comfortable in any way writing this, but it needs to be done for my own mental health. I’m not doing this for pity or judgement. I just can’t keep having all the confusing thoughts and misconceptions running around in my mind. They need order. Admittedly I could do this in a journal and keep it private, but I’m finding that getting it out there publicly has been helping. Being honest on here keeps me honest with myself, something I’ve never been good at.
A little background before moving forward. Beginning at the age of 5 until I was 15 years old, I was forced by my stepfather to endure sexual abuse. It would forever sculpt the way I respond or not respond to men and myself in the quest for pleasure.
One of the hardest things for me to admit about myself is that I am uncomfortable with my own ability to find pleasure sexually. The brain controls everything. It triggers receptors, send more blood the bodies pleasures centers. It displays images in the mind so they we can be further stimulated. I’m constantly hijacked by my thoughts. I’m embarrassed when by myself by what turns me on and how I go about getting personal gratification. I fear discovery, in my own home, by myself, with the door locked, curtains drawn. I worry about not being able to get off. That the orgasm I’m hoping for won’t be gratifying. I give myself a timetable and then when the moment of pleasure comes, I close off my mind and fail miserably at real satisfaction. Why must my mind be my biggest enemy? If I can’t allow myself to get turned on when alone, how the hell can I ever allow a man to try in a one on one situation again?
I’ve been celibate for 5 years and counting. I’m trying to figure out how to go about allowing myself to get comfortable with being open minded during sex. How do I not sabotage my own pleasure?
Here is what leads me to understand why I behave the way I do.
- I was taught early on by my mother that being chaste was what a girl aspired to be. I didn’t understand what chaste ment as a little girl.
- Being fondled and coached sexually at such a young age confused me on understanding what about sex was right and what was wrong.
- I was sexually abused by my stepfather, stepbrother, and a male cousin.
- I was promiscuous at a very young age. I didn’t have boundaries.
- I don’t know if was ever penetrated by the men who abused me. I’ve never been able to unblock those memories. I don’t know who was my “first”.
- I was 16 and no longer living with my mother when the first boy that wanted to have sex with me actually raped me when I said “no”. He lasted about 15 seconds and managed to use a condom.
- I suffer from long-term PTSD due to the my childhood. Rather than react, I retreat inwardly and will compartmentalize the situation into separate boxes until I can deal and move on.
- I’m extremely submissive sexually. I have a negative view of my own body and my desires.
- I’ve never had a healthy, normal relationship with any man. I crave and fear intimacy.
- I’ve never been truly appreciated as a woman by a man. The first man I loved ruined my self esteem in ways I’ve yet to overcome. None since him have been given the opportunity to try. I can’t seem to find the key that will unlock the person I know I want to be.
My new adventure is to find the key that will unlock the answers and hopefully shed some light on my issues, and I’ll be going about it in my own unorthodox way. I will keep up the stories of my own past sexual experiences to help me work out my issues. I hope that in doing so I might heal the psychological scars.
Trick or treating…no thanks. I don’t get Halloween. Never have. It’s a bizarre tradition that I find the strictest of heathens enjoy way too much. I’m not going to spend good money dressing up as someone else. I’m not going to spend $$$$ on candy I can’t enjoy eating cause I gave it all away. What I’m doing tonight is hiding out with the lights off. Not that this won’t deter even the most brain dead of children. It’s obvious mommy and daddy forgot the basic Halloween rule. “Don’t knock on doors if there aren’t lights on”.
When did that golden rule get swept under the rug?
The only time I made that mistake as a kid, a group of me & neighborhood assholes knocked on a darkened door. An old guy opened the door naked with a clown mask on. I’m pretty sure we left a skid marks on his porch and our shorts.
He probably lost what was left of his hearing. We didn’t report him either. We were more worried about getting more loot. I lost my enthusiasm that year for the holiday and never got it back. It definitely cemented my fear of clowns for life.
Too bad we can’t do that nowadays, lest we get arrested for exposure, or worse. But it’d serve the older kids right who have no business banging on doors after dark for candy. Talk about assholes. You don’t give them candy, they’ll come back later and trash your house.
So yee-haw everyone that still enjoys this over commercialized, useless, sad excuse for binge drinking & debauchery night. I think I’ll watch Harry Potter instead and enjoy a well deserved Friday night to myself.
p.s. Yes, I’m grumpy.
I’ve been in right royal funk all week. Don’t feel like being happy or entertained. All I want is to sleep and then sleep some more.
Eeyore is happier than me right me now. It’s not even depression I’m feeling. It’s something I feel twice a year during the change from winter to spring and summer to fall called Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s the shits. My allergies are kicking my ass from here to Pluto and back. I lack the energy to cook, clean, or give a good goddamn about anything.
Not that anyone cares even, they’re all like come on, you don’t need to feel like this.
Well, all I want to say is FUCK YOU ALL. Walk a mile in my shoes today and you’ll understand.
Then you can lecture me on your happy coexistence and hippy-dippy holistic medicine bullshit.
I have way more to say but don’t need to spew forth any more than this bitter diatribe has already vented.
Every year on September 19th it’s Talk Like a Pirate Day hear in America. Such an utterly ridiculous but cute thing to celebrate, I guess.
What I really choose to celebrate on this day is my baby’s birthday. He turns 17 years old today. I still remember waking up at 12:01 am with my water having broken. There was no mad dash to the hospital or silly nerves about the impending birth. It was like, oh great, time to go have this kid, FINALLY! I had gone into active back labour on Tuesday at Denny’s while having breakfast. It was now Friday and I was sooooo ready. It was a very interesting 15 1/2 hours till the baby came. I’ve never been so overcome with emotion till that day. Everything in my life had paled in comparison up until that moment when the presented me with my scary-looking alien baby. It’s certainly been an adventure these last 17 years. But he is the most beautiful, thoughtful, loving, caring, sweet, compassionate, responsible, intelligent boy a mother could ask for. He makes every day a joy. I know my real purpose in life was to have him and experience what true unconditional love is all about.
Happy birthday to my baby boy!