It’s been awhile…

It’s been awhile since I posted. After a lengthy recovery from surgery, a great deal of financial burdens, family drama, and the like, I’m back and ready to journal again.

For those of you who so kindly volunteered to be a part of the book, I want to thank you again, and reassure you that I’m back at it. You’ve all been on my mind, and I sincerely thank you for your patience.

God bless.

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Relationship hell

I wrote this about five years ago while I was transitioning from being completely dysfunctional to someone better able to see the damage I was doing to myself. Enjoy

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You know things are going badly when… every relationship you end up in is with someone who’s either an alcoholic, a drug addict, or a womanizer. And that does seem to describe every long-term relationship I’ve ever been in.

The Devil (aka my first husband) / Alcoholic. Womanizer. Hitter:  I met him about a week after I broke up with my high school boyfriend. D blew in on a motorcycle, looking all cool n’ shit, talking sweet, and providing me with his undivided attention. When he said he’d pick me up at 7:00 p.m., he was there on time and usually carrying flowers or some such girly thing. I fell in love quickly and was barely 17 years old when we married. A week after the wedding is when the hitting started, along with his self-esteem-shattering name calling. There I was, all 5’7″ 130 lbs of me being called fat, ugly and stupid then smacked in the face just because he felt like it. D was an alcoholic and a womanizer. The marriage ended a year later. That was the day I beat the fuck out of him, you know, the day I wasn’t going to take his shit anymore. I guess once he realized I could kick his ass my usefulness wore off.

Mr. Machismo / Alcoholic. Womanizer:  I met M about six months after I divorced the Devil. He was 12 years older than me, 6′ tall, blonde hair, blue eyes, and one hella Swedish fucking hottie! M taught me a lot about sex. I’m not really sure what else we had in common, but we both certainly liked experimenting sexually. He liked it so much that he “shared the wealth” with many other women. Ain’t that sweet? We were together about a year and a half, then just sort of quit seeing each other. No real drama, no goodbyes, just “hm… I haven’t seen M in a while… wonder what he’s up to.”

The Biker / Alcoholic:  I met B one night while playing pool in my local bar. We were on our second or third game when I couldn’t quite reach the shot (plus I wanted to really get his attention) so I climbed on the pool table and made my shot while ass-up on all fours. B was really a sweet guy who carried around a rough exterior. The only problem in our relationship was his drinking. He didn’t get violent or anything, he held a good job, and was very kind to me, but he was always drunk. In fact, he’s the one who helped me discover my love of tequila. Our relationship ended early one morning after B left for work. His roommate decided to come into our room and rape me. Obviously, things just weren’t the same after that.

The Daddy (aka my second husband) / Alcoholic. Hitter: I met D while hanging out with a local metal band. He was a friend of the bass guitarist and I was fucking the drummer. Jump forward a year and a half and there we are at a barn party, talking and laughing when and I asked him out. We dated seven months before we got hitched. We were married for 11 years and had two kids. The first four years were great. After our first daughter was born, everything went to hell and quick. D decided it was okay to get drunk and punch or choke me, he often referred to his mom as a whore, and generally had no respect for women. I blame myself for a lot of this fiasco because the warning signs were there. I just refused to see them. I’m not sorry, but only because of my two wonderful kids, but it was pure hell. The hitting stopped on my 30th birthday when he tried to choke me, I threw the asshole into a head-lock and beat the fuck out of him. Again, another victim of my pent-up rage.

The Golf Pro / Alcoholic. Womanizer:  I met M one night, made out with him in his truck, fucked his brains out for two weeks, then he dumped me. I was heart-broken. A week later, he called and said he couldn’t live without me. So there began our one and a half year freak/fuck-fest. M was 14 years older than me and really knew what he was doing in bed. With him, it was the first time in years that I actually felt like a woman. I wasn’t someone’s wife or mother, I was a desirable woman and he let me know it. Unfortunately, he was fucking everything in town, as I found out later. It got so bad that a woman’s husband poisoned M’s dog because of M’s affair with her.

The Red Neck / Alcoholic. Womanizer: I met J one night, purposely gave him the wrong address and talked to him on the phone while he drove around looking for my house. I told him about the red teddy I was wearing, how my legs were spread and my pussy was ready for some dick. I thought it was funny. He didn’t. Six months later I ran into him again, gave him the right address this time, and that started our year and a half long relationship. With J, it felt as if I were raising another child. I know that his energy and outlook on life is part of what appealed to me, but there are times when you have to be serious and take responsibility for your life. He just didn’t want any part of that. J had a very rough upbrining and dealt with the scars of that by drinking heavily. Our relationship was pretty stormy and ended when he started fucking his cousin. Yep, his cousin.

The African Prince / Alcoholic. Womanizer: I met G while he was visiting my neighbor. We didn’t get together until six months later and I fell madly and deeply in love. I know he “cared” for me and he even said “I love you” once, but I also know that he’s not capable of being with just one woman. He’s an alcoholic, smoke a great deal of weed, and sleeps with quite a few women (one in each port?). That ended when I admitted my sexual addiction to him. I guess what’s good for the goose really isn’t good for the gander.

The Southern Gentleman / Alcoholic. Womanizer. Drug Addict. Ex Con. T and I met after he sent me a drink at a local bar. I was immeidately smitten and went home with him that night. We talked about our past, our addictions, everything. Things were good until I realized his “southern charm” was just a mask hiding every other fucked up thing that was wrong with him, but he didn’t want to deal with. We dated four years, but he eventually started using drugs again, then left town on a Greyhound on his way to meet his girlfriend in Denver. I never looked back.

From what I can garner, I seem to be attracted to any man who is an alcoholic and has issues with intimacy and commitment. As I’ve said before, “my picker is broke.” I wonder what it is about the alcoholic that seems to draw me to them? Is it their own wounded spirit and my co-dependency? Was I a raging alcoholic in a past life and now I’m paying for my sins? All I know is that I can’t go anywhere near an AA meeting or all hell will let loose.

Who I am

I won’t apologize for things I’ve done
or decisions I’ve made
My path has nothing to do with
YOUR egotistical or insecure bullshit
That’s you, not me

So here’s a new set of rules baby…
If you can’t handle it
then go away
If you can’t deal with the truth
then go away
If you’re not willing to look at your own life shit
then don’t darken my doorway another minute

I gave you freedom to be yourself
It’s your choice to use it
But that mask you wear is getting pretty tattered
and old

You are who you are
Don’t apologize for the things you’ve done
or the decisions you’ve made
Your path has nothing to do with
MY egotistical or insecure bullshit
That’s me, not you

What’s our responsibility, you ask?
Learn baby!
Learn from the things we’ve done
and the decisions we’ve made
You ever think life brought us together
To learn from each other?

But let’s be clear
I am who I am
and I won’t wear the mask you hold for me
I won’t be something I’m not
And I can’t change my past

Deal with me
Or move on

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I wrote this about three years ago while going through some struggles with my boyfriend. It was my way of reaffirming that I am a wonderful, special, and sometimes quirky person, and that it’s okay.