Done with the Executive Chef - So Can I REALLY Be Done with Men for Awhile?

A lot of people tell me they're worried about me. My sponsor in alcohol recovery doesn't; she doesn't buy into the drama. She's also a mindfulness practitioner, highly spiritual, and extremely intelligent, having almost completed a Master's degree in Psychology with an emphasis on Borderline Personality Disorder.

Other people though, they get scared I'll actually kill myself. I'll tell you right now; that's never gonna happen. I've had periods where I've legitimately wanted to cease to exist more than anything on Earth, but God didn't take me, presumably because I have a six year-old son left to half-raise. His dad is dying of congestive heart failure, so pretty soon that responsibility will fall fully on me.

But yeah, I need to stay away from guys. It's the common theme of the past over-four years since I left my husband of ten years (my son's dad). (We were together ten years and only married for the last three of those, but fuck technicalities.)

(And actually, we're still married. He does have life insurance, so I'm glad I never pushed the divorce through...)

Anyway, I just got out of yet another relationship, this time with my boss. Did I really fall in love wth him? I don't know. Am I capable of loving anyone, even myself? I don't know. Did I take his power away because he was a colossal dick at work and I had to neutralize him somehow? Damn right.

But did he try to cheat on me twice to my knowledge, stay a night in jail for a DUI, drink heavily every night, sneak around outside of work and not tell me where he was going or what he was doing, and make up stories and lies that he couldn't even keep straight? Yeah. Did he want to live in my apartment rent-and-bill-free so he could support his drinking and his smoking weed? Yeah. Did he offer my six year-old son a beer as well as provide a TERRIBLE human example to a kid who's like a sponge and started imitating him, cussing, while also telling me, "Mom, I don't like Bernard. Break up with him. I don't trust him"? Fuck, yes.

So I finally did it. I had tried a few times before; back in October when I found out about the cheating attempts through text messages on his phone between him and one of the waitresses at work, and he was pissed at me for going through his phone but he had all ready been lying to me (and it takes one to know one), I said, "You know, if you're gonna try to cheat on someone you should probably lock your phone." We had a big fight which culminated in our first "I love you"s and we didn't break up - in fact I thought it brought us closer.

But then recently he has been exhibiting the same behavior - lying about where he is outside of work (we work together but don't have the same schedule) - and I found out he had locked his phone, because one night when he was drunk he was trying to get into it, and couldn't remember his own damn password. That, and he and his buddies were talking about the other day that he hung out with them, "But don't tell Adora!" Bernard said. He didn't know I heard.

So I was just finally done.

Okay, lesson learned this time? Who fucking knows. I had been keeping the piercing fetish guy updated throughout my relationship, so when he found out about my breakup, he wanted to come over last night. I forget the fictitious name I gave him but you can check the column on the left. Vicente or something, I don't fucking know.

Before he came over, when he asked if he could, I said, "Sure, but I'm not fucking you, and no needles."

Goddamnit. We did fuck.

So what's next? Today I'm going to church, going to go see my son, and tomorrow I have to go back to work at the restaurant, although I don't have to work with Bernard until Tuesday. I informed the restauranteur of the break-up; he was worried I was going to quit and desperately texted me, "You can't quit! I choose you over Bernard! Please don't quit!" Because, again, Executive Chef Bernard is a colossal dick (even though he has a tiny one) and no one can actually stand him. I wanted to see through all of that into his precious human heart - and I did, briefly. Mostly I was swept away by his culinary skills - but you know what? 

I've lost my appetite.

The Berklee School of Music Singer/Songwriter, part 8

I usually take two tacks with relationships, lately - all, or nothing. With Jason, because breaking up with him wasn't working, back in February and March, I decided to ask him to marry me in May.

I know, that makes so much sense.

It doesn't, of course - I wasn't offered any tools or given any examples growing up to teach me to foster a healthy relationship with someone. But you know the saying, "Wherever I go, there I am"? If I don't work on myself, no relationship I have will ever be a success. Namely, if I don't work on myself when I'm with myself, I certainly won't be able to do it when I'm with someone else...and will therefore be quite capable of making two lives quite miserable.

The other day I became very angry with Jason for singing and playing music in his room when I was trying to write. I didn't let him know how I felt. Instead, I stomped outside to the backyard - and saw his bong next to the wicker bench. I wanted to go break it, but, because he went off his bipolar/OCD/anxiety/sleep meds and has decided instead to get a legal medical marijuana card, I decided not to break the bong, begrudgingly. But, since I can't handle being around a bong, I went back inside to the living room to write...where it was loud again. As the music was grating my nerves, I got an email from Ronnie, my ex-husband, telling me that I'm a disappointment to our son because I don't call Lyle every day at five like I'm supposed to, and Lyle is sad every day waiting for my call. Instead of admitting my mistake and telling Ronnie I'll make the commitment to call our son, I got even more angry, and when Jason came to ask me what's wrong very kindly and compassionately, I exploded. I got up, I threw my phone onto the floor, the contents breaking apart and scattering into the hallway, and I stormed out of the house without so much as a word, still wearing my pajamas, driving 30 miles back to my aunt's house a few towns away.

Um, yeah. Psycho...

I do the very best I can to justify my actions, to any one. Even to you, dear readers. In part 7, I justified my leaving Jason's house, and my plan to leave the relationship, without giving you all the deets.

The truth is, I'm a liar, and a rager. Growing up, my dad lied so often that it was a problem, and both of my parents' significant others flew off the handle in violent rages. I didn't learn the best communication skills, to say the least. I don't blame them, mind you. They were obviously fucked up by their parents, and them by theirs, and so on and so forth, back to the chicken or the egg or homo erectus or Adam and Eve or whatever you choose to believe. (Book nudge: The Four Agreements by don Miguel Ruiz includes some great stuff about how our parents and society fuck us up as individuals.)

But maybe I just don't know how fucked up I really am until I try to live with someone else. Say I'm dating you, and I fall in love with you because you're special, and you feel the same way about me. We've both dated quite a bit - one of us was even married before - and we can safely say that we've never felt this way about any one before. Then, we spend a large of time together. Finally, we start to argue, and we realize we're actually both pretty messed up. "You're crazy!" I'll scream at you, hypocritically. Or, "I can't be with you, because I'm just too crazy. It's over!" And I run like hell, without hardly giving you a chance to say anything in the matter.

So I'm flighty, to boot. I really need to re-read my own "7 Ways to Avoid Getting Into a Bad Relationship" that I wrote just yesterday. "Love"...I've written about it plenty, from various perspectives. Sometimes I really sound like I know what I'm talking about, and other times I really have no freaking clue. I hold no Ph.D. in the subject. Hell, I ain't got no GED in the subject, neither. I'm like, in pre-school. And like a child, I want, want, want. If I really could just follow my own advice and "master love" the way Miguel Ruiz prescribes in The Mastery of Love, I wouldn't even be writing right now. Maybe I should read that book again, too.

Anyway...I guess what I'm saying is, the chapter on Jason isn't actually closed after all. I've embarrassed myself plenty over the past month oscillating from this-guy-sucks to he-can-be-my-boy-toy to I've-never-loved-someone-so-much to yay-happy-day-I'm-engaged to get-me-the-hell-out-of-this-shit-NOW. I know...crazy.

If you were in my shoes, dear reader, what would you do? Keep in mind, that, most importantly, you have an almost five year-old son who needs your love more than anyone.

Well, what I did was, I apologized to Jason for my freak-out, told him everything that was bothering me about our relationship, and I told him that if we're going to continue to consider marriage, before we even set a date - we need to undergo pre-marital counseling. And include Lyle. I got therapy with my son Lyle last year when Ronnie went to jail and rehab from May to August. It worked well for us.

All I want, in the entire world, is to be a good mom. It's more important to me than a relationship with any guy, and Jason knows this. If he's willing to let me put Lyle first, no matter what, maybe there's a chance for us after all. But he's going to have to support me when I need space to work on myself and on my relationship with my son, and, again, undergo therapy too, both individually and combined (and then we can call Captain Planet). And I need to follow #7 in my list: taking special consideration when dealing with mental and emotional disorders. Shit, I need to follow all 7 on the list. That's why I wrote it; because those are things I need to remember.

7 Ways to Avoid Getting Into a Bad Relationship

1. Be honest.

Too often we find ourselves "acting" a certain way to attract a mate. We're nicer than we'd like to be. We tell little "white" lies about ourselves, or we hide things. We laugh when something isn't all that funny. We lie when something hurts our feelings, saying, "It's fine." We delude ourselves into thinking that "this" one could be the one, before we've done the research. Some of us are so desperate to get away from our lonely selves that we'll do anything to latch onto another person - any one - including not be ourselves. Then, there comes a point down the line when the facade is broken; we just can't bring ourselves to lie any more. By then, we're months deep into a relationship with a person who doesn't even know who we really are - and chances are, we have no idea who he or she is, either (because all we wanted was to be "loved"). Ultimately, we find ourselves crawling out of our skin. We hit our breaking point, and we explode suddenly, surprising the other with some act of defiance, because the whole time, he or she never knew what was truly going on in this head of ours. Sure, we got someone to "fall in love" with us, we're no longer "alone" - but at what cost? We're not really the person our significant other "got to know" in the first place, which not only makes for a very bad relationship, it means we have to hurt that person for us to be happy again.

Save yourself this trouble by being completely honest right up front. I know, it's hard to say certain things. Some of those things might be, "I'm separated from my wife, but we're not yet legally divorced." Or, "I have a child who needs much of my attention, so I won't be able to give as much attention to a significant other right now." Or instead of saying, "No, I hardly date at all" to try and make him feel special or think you're more "pure", tell the truth, and say, "Yes, I've dated quite a bit over the past few years, but nothing has worked out"; or if the opposite is true - if you're trying to make her think you're a stud, don't - just say, "No, I haven't dated much lately; as a matter of fact, this is only the second date I've been on in the last year."

The list can go on and on. "No, I'm not interested in being exclusive right away. I'm just looking for something casual, a good time once in awhile." "I'm a recovering alcoholic and I go to meetings every day; it's a huge part of my life." "I'm Catholic and I want to be with another Catholic." "I see a psychiatrist and take medication for schizophrenia; it's a very misunderstood disorder." "I'm looking for someone willing to be a stepfather to my kids." "I may be ready to settle down with someone in a few years, but for right now I'm too busy working on myself, and probably shouldn't even be dating."

The first step of course is to be honest with yourself. If you think you want one thing, look again. Play the tape forward. Before you even go on a first date - what exactly are you looking for? Where do you want to be in a year? Two years? Ten years? What are you willing to sacrifice? What are you not willing to sacrifice?

Whatever track you're on - once you figure it out - tell the person exactly what it is, and what your goals and intentions are. Yes, it may mean you don't get into a relationship with the person, or you don't get "laid". I know, you may not be able to see it now, exhilarated by the excitement of a new prospect - having someone interested in you can be very tantalizing - but being 100% honest is better than, again, letting someone fall in love a "you" that you aren't and can't be. You may not think you're even looking for love, but you have no control over the feelings of another person. So let the other person make an informed decision from the very beginning. It's the right thing to do, and you'll be doing both yourself, and him or her, a huge favor.

2. Love yourself first.

A good relationship develops naturally, over time. It isn't characterized by need or desperation. Do the things that you want to do. If you're a writer, write. If you're a photographer, go to the ends of the earth - or at least the county - for amazing photographs. If you are starting your own business, pour yourself into it and don't give up. Don't focus all of your energy on linking up with someone else, because guess what - it'll work, and you'll enormously regret wasting all of that energy you could have spent bettering your own life...and it won't be a good relationship! You'll end up resenting the other person, in the end, because you gave up so much to be with him or her. But if you remain true to yourself, do what makes you happy, and be honest with the other person, you may be surprised at what develops. On the other hand, if you jump into a whirlwind relationship and ignore yourself and your other desires and needs, it can burn out pretty quickly, and burn you out in the process. Keep this important tidbit in mind: If you don't have anything to give to yourself - if you can't make yourself happy - you have nothing to offer someone in a relationship.

If you love yourself first, however, you'll attract someone who also loves him or herself, and that's someone you'll want to be with - not a self-loather, a self-pitier. The latter is one who will be insecure, needy, clingy, someone who says bad things about other people because he or she doesn't like him or herself. That's the kind of person who will be afraid you're going to leave him or her for someone else any time you leave his or her house. If you don't like yourself, you'll attract this person, and you'll become each others' prisoners. Love yourself enough not to let this happen!

3. Be financially self-supporting.

Or at least, do your best to try to become self-supporting. People who don't support themselves financially are more likely to "need" someone else. And beware - "need" isn't love. I have two book recommendations for becoming financially stable: What Color is Your Parachute? by Richard Bolles and How to Get Out of Debt, Stay Out of Debt, and Live Prosperously by Jerrold Mundis. Take your time building yourself up so that no one can bring you down. In a sick relationship, if the other person is taking care of you, chances are he or she is rubbing it in and making you feel bad about it - but you need that person, so you can't do anything about it, right? Well, you know the saying, "If you love me, you'll let me go"? Apply it to your relationship. Start doing your own thing; make money for yourself doing something you love and are good at. See how your significant other reacts, and look for this warning sign: if he or she doesn't like you being happy "without" him or her - then it isn't love. You know the song, "Love hurts"? No, it doesn't. And that's another thing...

4. Don't take relationship advice from pop songs. 

They're riddled with messages of codependency. Read books instead (if you can afford them; if not, try to get the ones from #3 first, somehow). The Mastery of Love by don Miguel Ruiz and The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle are probably the two best self-help books out there for people feeling empty, alone and in need of a "significant other" for fulfillment and happiness. Miguel Ruiz teaches you how to truly love yourself and others (I love this line: "If you have a cat and you want a dog, get a dog"). If you apply what he teaches, you will never again be in "need" of anyone's love, ever again. Eckhart Tolle teaches you how to let go of the past and the future so that you can be happy, right now. And, again, if you're happy and fulfilled, you'll find yourself attracting someone else who is happy and fulfilled (but of course, you may just become so happy and fulfilled on your own that you want to keep it that way!).

5. Stay at your own place.

When we get into a new relationship, it's easy to get swept off our feet and over the threshold. We just can't get enough of what the other person has to offer - it just feels so good, and it's so hard to say "No". But do your best to sleep in your own bed and have the other person do the same. Otherwise, lines will be blurred, and you'll find yourself living with someone else before you're actually ready, or you'll have someone else living with you before you're ready to make that very big step that should be discussed at length - with words - before it's taken.

It's important to hold onto your individuality as you get to know someone else, especially if you have a hard time being honest, loving yourself, and supporting yourself financially. It's very difficult to be honest with someone else if you don't have time and space to think on your own. It's hard to love yourself if you have someone else around all the time needing your love. And if you aren't fully self-supporting financially (or if he or she isn't - it works both ways), you're going to end up either relying on someone or taking care of someone before you really get to know him or her or let him or her get to know you. And then you're in for a difficult change when you realize that you aren't compatible after all, when you actually-truly-finally get to know each other's "real" self.

I say, if you haven't accomplished steps 1-3, don't even think about moving in with someone (and if they haven't accomplished #1-3, don't let him or her stay with you!). I'm sorry to say this, but, spending three to four nights a week with someone does pretty much constitute living there. Trust me, I know from my own experience how difficult it is to take it slow with a person you suddenly have very strong feelings for and who appears to be totally amazing (and you just want to be around that person all the time). I'm the type who often, very early on, wants to just skip the dating process, nail him down and say "I love you" and "I do". But that's never worked out for me, because, honestly - I'm still not honest enough, I don't love myself as much as I could, and I'm not as stable financially as I'd like to be. So I'm passing along my learning to you, dear reader, from my own vault of experiences; take it or leave it. If you leave it, then you'll learn from your own experiences, which will still be very valuable to you (and will confirm what I'm telling you here).

6. Set boundaries.

Being honest with someone includes stating when something makes you feel uncomfortable; setting boundaries means standing your ground and not engaging in said uncomfortable activity, or enabling behavior that makes you feel bad. It's not caving in; it's being true to yourself. You're allowed to put yourself first, and someone who is sane will respect you for it. Unless it's your child or someone you love who truly cannot take care of him or herself, putting someone else first is called "codependency" (something I mentioned in #4). It means you have to make someone else happy just so you feel okay (or, it means someone else has to be responsible for your happiness in order for him or her to feel okay). For more information about codependency, visit the Mental Health America website.

As I said before, it's difficult to say "No". But it can be the very thing that maintains your happiness. Even though it'll feel horrible to say at first, once you feel and appreciate your own love for yourself, you'll never again want to let anyone take that away from you. For further illustration, there's a very good article in the November 2013 issue of Psychology Today called The Power of No. Says author Judith Sills, Ph.D, "No is both the tool and the barrier by which we establish and maintain the distinct perimeter of the self." Perimeter = boundary. Self = you. Now that you know what love is, thanks to don Miguel Ruiz, love that self of yours. Protect it. It's all you've got, really.

7. Take special consideration when dealing with mental and emotional disorders.

Whether we admit it or not - and most of us won't - all human beings are "sick" in some way. But some are sicker than others. Yes, we ought to be kind, compassionate, and understanding with people diagnosed with grave mental and emotional disorders. And they, too, "deserve" happiness - but not at the expense of our own. Before you get involved with someone either diagnosed or perhaps not yet diagnosed with a mental or emotional disorder (sometimes you just can't help with whom you fall in love), you need to be willing to work extra hard to maintain your own sanity (which, believe me, will be tested).

First, if you are someone diagnosed with one or more mental and emotional disorders, I'm sorry for your lot, but do yourself and everyone around you a favor and please, keep seeing your psychiatrist. Or, if you don't like your current psychiatrist, find another one. But don't one day just decide to go off your meds because you don't like taking them any more, or stop seeing your psychiatrist because you don't like him or her, or maybe you can't afford the treatment any more (in which case, see #4). You are in control of your own self and make your own decisions, but, if want an intimate relationship with another human being to work, you need to be honest about your condition from the very beginning. Discuss not only what you do for maintenance but also any change in treatment you may be considering and what effect it may have. What you do will affect someone in a relationship with you (see #1). And, I'm sorry, but you'll need to accept it if your date or significant other doesn't feel able to deal with a different version of you than the one he or she has come to know under your current treatment.

On the other side of the table, if you choose to date someone with say, bipolar disorder, do the research on the disorder. Are you able to keep your calm and be kind and compassionate when your significant other experiences his or her manic highs or depressive lows? Being in a relationship with someone with a physical imbalance of the brain can be very difficult and taxing emotionally, but you'll have to accept certain things you cannot change. Perhaps it's anxiety, and your significant other can't join you in any social situations. Perhaps it's a sleep disorder, and the person can't help but stay awake until 3 am and only sleep until 7 am on certain days. Perhaps it's obsessive-compulsivity, and he or she has a really hard time when you move his or her stapler - I mean a really hard time. Whatever the disorder (or cocktail thereof), just be sure you're ready to handle it kindly, lovingly, and calmly, because you are going to have to be the "sane" one.



Thanks for reading my first advice post! I've decided to throw these in once in awhile in between posting about my memoir or my own relationship foibles. I'm hoping to have less of the latter, under my "new awareness". Here's hoping!

The Berklee School of Music Singer/Songwriter, part 6

"Aspiring memoirist" doesn't do a damn bit of good without any actual effort on my part. And I don't have a job right now, so what the hell am I doing? I've been scattered. Trying to start a business doing way too many things. Performing, voice lessons, tutoring, photography, editing/proofreading, publicity...and not making a cent yet.

I was just laying here on my fiancé's bed in his bedroom at his parents' house while he plays Ben Folds on his keyboard, and tears came to my eyes. "This is what I've come to...I don't recognize my life any more."

The life I recognized was with my dysfunctional family growing up, and my fervent educational pursuits as my escape. Then I recognized being in love with an alcoholic, who made me laugh and kept me up all night long, telling me stories, but with whom I also fought belligerently. Then, I recognized being a mother. All that other crap that came before...blech. But that last thing...that was what life was worth living for.

I wasn't a bad one, either. I use to take my son out every day to mommy-and-me classes, the ones where you sit around a circle with a bunch of other mothers (and a few fathers) with their babies and toddlers to sing songs for half an hour until you took your kid(s) out to the playground for a couple more hours. Those were the days of glory, where in my memory the sun shines bright like the mythical gate of some holy place and bounces off the glittering sand that I would scoop into buckets for my little guy to pour out all over the toys in the sandbox. Real-life toddler heaven, it was. Of course, home was hell. But, as they say...better the Devil you know. (Not really...I'm not being sarcastic or cynical at all in this post.)

These days, my son is four - five in August - and I only see him on weekends, sometimes only every other weekend. Any time his dad asks if he can keep him again "this" weekend, I act like I'm hurt, or sad, or pissed, or I react in some way that hides the fact that deep down I'm relieved as hell to be left to my own selfish, albeit failing pursuits. When I do get my son - when I'm not offered an "out" - I try my best to act like a mother for a couple of days until I "get" to drop him back off with the guy I never thought would be a fitter parent than I. But so it is.

So, yeah. I don't recognize my life. Somehow I'm actually worse a mother than my own was. She didn't pay much attention to us, but she was there, physically. Behind a closed door most of the time, but she was just a knock away.

No, what I've become is my father. Like his, my dedication is to an other on whom I place monumental significance, an other who isn't the parent of my child but who satisfies my need for "love" in a way only a "significant other" can. And I don't have to do all that much to take care of him, except be with him...all the time.

I stood by him during his pyschotic break last week after he'd decided to stop taking all his bipolar/anxiety/OCD/sleep/etc. meds (that's what all the stretching was, a couple posts ago, a precursor to absolute unrecognizable madness that I can't even begin to describe at the moment). Sure, he "loves" me more than anyone has since my husband, #1, and #20 (the other two boyfriends who at least said they loved me). But, I remember when I left my husband, and, when it didn't work with #1, I "knew" that "love just doesn't conquer all" (and that's why I settled with #20 for awhile, because I didn't love him, at all - but my son did, and that's the only reason it lasted as long as it did, until I just couldn't do it any more).

I'm not sure why I've put myself in this position again. I put "loves" in quotations marks, knowing full well that the true word that belongs in its place is "needs". I'm with someone who would completely lose it if I left him. (Hey, that's a song..."As long as he needs me...I know where I must be...I'll hang on steadfastly...as long as he needs me." It's from the musical Oliver! and so says Wikipedia, "It is a love ballad expressing Nancy's love for her criminal boyfriend Bill Sikes, despite his mistreatment of her.")

As a matter of fact, Jason's mental breakdown came on the heels of me packing up because I wanted to go home, just for a night or two, to get away from his all-night manic cleaning episodes. There was shit all over his room, and he was up day and night bringing more shit into it from all over the house, obsessively. Yes, it was part of his disorder gone haywire, and somewhat beyond his control (although, did I mention he's decided to stop seeing his psychiatrist, and just smoke weed from now on?). A good fiancée would stand by her man in his time of need, I guess. But not I. I had tried to get away at least three other times over the course of the week, but he begged me to stay each time. So I did, reluctantly. And so here I still am...miserable.

I just want to get back to my life. I want to open my mail. I want to clean my own room. I want to take care of my cats, instead of just buying bags of catfood and dropping them off for my aunt, with whom I (used to) live. Not only that, I want to pet my cats. And I want to have space, alone time. I want to write my memoir. This blog is just a gathering of ideas. I want to write the real thing. This isn't it. This blog is like a little girl's diary, really. It's just...there's been so much wreckage in the present that it's been hard to just write about the wreckage of the past. It started with Margaret's suicide. Then I dated again - damnit - and that's the irony - this blog was supposed to prevent me from creating any more present wreckage. At least, that was the idea, if you go back and read my first post. I keep acting like getting engaged to be married is the ultimate redemption. I find Jesus, get baptized, start dating a guy in church, have a slip and kiss someone else, so ooh, I know, I'll ask the guy I'm dating to marry me, that'll fix everything - game, set, match!

It's all wrong. I feel like a prisoner. Getting engaged to someone just so he'll "know" you aren't going to leave him and he'll therefore hopefully "let" you leave his house, without freaking the fuck out, is clearly - how shall I put it? - fucking dumb.

I should have been writing throughout the course of our relationship so I could have gotten honest with myself. I was on a roll before this one. I over-analyzed the shit out of the last guy I dated (#29).

(And sorry, I just have to take a moment to laugh about Jesus being #28. A lot of good that did me, lol.)

(Oh! PS, #29 just got married, actually. I saw it on facebook. I wouldn't have been happy with that one, either, so I'm glad it was someone else and not me.)

"Love" - I've made such a joke of the word that I can't even take it seriously any more. And yet I say "I love you so much" every day to...what's the fake name I assigned #30? Oh, Jason, I think. But when I say "I love you" to him, what I mean is, "I don't want you to freak out if I don't say it back, so I'm going to say it back and act like I believe it, so that maybe you believe it, too."

But then...when I'm away from him - when I do GET to go home - first, I feel utter bliss. But then I feel so alone that I can hardly bear it. Even with my son with me at my house, I feel empty. Like something's missing.

I guess that's that "need" again. It's apropos to say that Jason and I "need" each other.

But my son needs me, too, and that one doesn't belong in quotation marks. I'm sorry, but I need to get my shit together. Watching Californication has changed my life. I just finished Season 3. Hank Moody is a better father than I am mother, a better writer than I, too, and, he fucks a shitload of women...which makes me not feel so bad. But it's not cool what he does, and he's has frequent downfalls. His daughter is currently pissed at him, in the episodes I'm watching, for sleeping with her 16 year-old almost-step-sister. But he didn't know she was 16, and he's got a good lawyer that he's fucking, so it'll probably all turn out fine (sarcasm).

Any way, Hank is a fictional construct. But...watching him fuck so many women and and still pick his daughter up from school and out for ice cream makes me feel like a total shitbag. I haven't even fucked that many guys - many of the guys on my list, atleast #20 and forward, are guys with whom I was legitimately trying to get into the relationship to end all relationships.

But it's still fucking lame, putting relationships with men above being a mother to my now four-and-a-half year old boy. This past weekend my son told Jason he hated him, and told me that Daddy loves him more than I do, because Daddy takes more responsibility for him. Those were pretty much his exact words. I hate to say that the kid is right. After four rehabs, his dad is finally doing really well. I'm the fuck-up now. I'm sober, sure, but that hardly means shit any more. I'm not going to go drink or use, because that would make this whole thing so much worse, and there's no need for that. But I wish I could. And why wouldn't he hate Jason? I give Jason way more attention than I give to my son. Goddamnit.

I'm still holding onto the hope that I can get my act together. I started the outline for my memoir. I still don't know if I should write it as a novel, or, "truly". I feel like I'd be completely damning myself in every circle of which I am a part if I write it as a true story. But maybe that's what I deserve.

But I'm not thinking of that yet. What I'm doing now is, I'm just writing facts. I'm writing a summary of things I've done and putting them into little chapters to be expanded upon later. Not how I felt, or what I thought. (For the record, I know that's a sentence fragment, I just don't care. And know that's a comma splice. Again, I don't care.)

In my outline, there are no motives. No self-justifications or rationalizations or painting pictures of people that make me look like the victim (because I'm pretty sure I've done a shitload of that). There's no answer to "why". What is, just is.

Jason was saying, as we were watching the show together, "Poor Hank. He just gets shit on, all the time."

"No. I don't agree with that," I said. "He does it to himself. He can't just fuck everything that has a vagina and a pulse and not expect his daughter and her mom to just be cool with it. It's not about him, in the end. It's about them."

"No, it is about him," Jason argued. Jason doesn't know how much I identify with Hank. I was crying today at Albertson's and Jason asked me what was wrong. "If I told you, it would probably end our relationship."

"I'll never stop loving you, sweetheart. Nothing's that bad," he said.

I still couldn't tell him. I couldn't say, "Do you know you're number 29 (not counting Jesus) in a long line of guys I've been with in some capacity since I left my husband? Do you know I don't even truly know if I love you or if I'm just with you to numb my pain? I don't even know if I'm capable of loving anything. I don't even love myself."

Cheating on him and breaking up with him in the beginning didn't work. So I'm not going there again. But I'm in fucking deep, here. We go to the same church; the pastor announced our engagement to the whole congregation a few weeks ago, at both the 9 am and 10:45 am services.

So now what?

"I believe in you, baby," he just said to me. He knows I'm writing, but he doesn't really know what about. I did tell him I'm writing my memoir. I told him earlier, at Albertson's, that he may not love me so much when I'm done.

The truth will set you free, they say. We'll see.

The Berklee School of Music Singer/Songwriter, part 4

We're engaged.

I'm just gonna give that some space.

I broke up with #30  - on February 14 of all days - because this sex and love addict from one of my meetings was obsessed with me and I totally bought into it (plus, I didn't like #30 that much, remember?). Nothing more came of it than a kiss (THANK GOD) and him leaving the state to go join the Navy (he was all ready leaving for that; it had nothing to do with me).

But anyway, so, #30 fell absolutely head-over-heels with me, by the way. He was heartbroken when I broke up with him after meeting with #31, and I was surprised. I didn't know he liked me that much.

I still broke up with him (#30...I'm calling him "Jason") one more time. He smokes weed, and I felt really tempted to smoke one day. He supports my drug and alcohol recovery, and so he does it out in the backyard of his parents' house and cleans himself up so he doesn't smell...but just me knowing that he was doing it was making me want to smoke so badly! So I broke up with him again in March, because I can't take that risk.

But he said I was breaking his heart, again, and we talked about how his smoking weed was affecting me, and we figured out some alternatives to ending the relationship. I am glad; I gotta admit, I'm so tired of being "out there" - you know, single, or serial relationshipping/dating, whatever - that I was willing to go ahead and keep trying with him. So he smokes a little weed? It's not the worst thing in the world. Plus, now we actually talk about things - finally!! He cries a little more than I do, but that's okay. He's sensitive (well, bipolar, you know - but that's okay, too).

Oh...

So, I decided to go ahead and propose.

Crazy? I know it would appear that way. And I never thought I'd want to get married again, least of all to a guy with so many mental disorders that he has to take eight different medications and see a therapist and a psychiatrist. But he is also so kind, loving, intelligent (high IQ's often come with an array of disorders, I hear), talented, fun, comes from a good (not-broken) Christian family who adores me. He was all ready talking about marrying me someday. It sounded almost too good to be true - until I bought him a ring, got down on one knee, and asked him to marry me, for real, then - and he said, "Yes," of course.

So that's it! I'm done, right? It's a victory story, the way I see it.

The Mastery of Love by don Miguel Ruiz helped to teach me what Love is. It's a great book, and I highly recommend it. I also spend a lot of time reading the Bible and working the 12 steps, and I still go to meetings (not the sex and love ones any more [sorry, but fuck those]).

I'm so happy today. I want to write a book!! It's time!! My classes are over for the summer, and so is my job, for now. I do have to find another job; Jason and I want to be married in a year's time and have a place to move into with each other. A two bedroom, so my son has his own room when he's with us (he and my son are developing quite the relationship, too! It's great!).

But....man...a book...can you imagine? I can...but until I get on it, that's all it'll be - imaginary! So, what should I write about? Should it be an autobiography? Should it be fiction, based on my experiences? If the latter, should it be first person perspective, or third? Should I write a series of short stories, with different protagonists, or the same protagonist? What's more interesting, my childhood, or my adulthood...or both? Or should I write creatively about something or someone that has absolutely nothing to do with myself? Now's the time to call upon my varied English education (and professors), whip out some old books, and pick up reading again, avidly.

All I know is, I have to write. I just have to. These past few months of focusing on school and securing my fiance have taken up all my time (yeah, you can laugh there), and now I'm exploding with creative desire. My photography class provided a great outlet for creativity, but I just had to give the loaner camera back to my school's Arts Department. I'm still singing, and Jason's going to help me record a CD (he's a sound engineer/singer/songwriter and has his own mixing studio and equipment). But it's writing that's always been my first and foremost passion, ever since I was four and learned how to read and write rhymes a lá Seuss and Mother Goose.

But, it does feel like I've turned the pressure valve a little to the left here, and I can *sigh*, smile, and get a good night's sleep. Oh, but I just want to say one more thing:

YAY!!!

More About My Childhood, Marriage, Divorce, and Sobriety

I'm feeling rebellious today. Rebellious in the sense that I don't care that this is a sentence fragment. Rebellious in that I want to just be totally honest. True to myself.

I've always been an "A" student. What that means for me, is, I want everyone to like me, especially those in power. You teach me, I absorb what you teach and spit it back to you just the way you want it, you give me an "A", and we're both happy...except that I just had to bust my ass to please you and your bosses, and that's no fun. And guess what: I didn't actually learn anything. I absorbed what you were saying just long enough to release it back to you the way you wanted it (yes, like a sponge...clichés exist for a reason), and I went along my merry way very grateful that you like me now.

I give you all the power in the world. You are God. You must like me, or I die.



Things have changed for me in that regard. With the help of a spiritual awakening, I've realized that you are not God. You are imperfect. Your word isn't Gospel. You have no power over me. All power comes from something greater than both of us. And yet we are all One, One with everything. My molecules and atoms, my keyboards' molecules and atoms...the hairs on my arm, the leaves on a tree, you - it's all the same.

And the only time there is is Now. When you talk about the past, you are denying the present, unless the past has some direct usefulness to Now. When you talk about the future, you are illusioning (I turned "illusion" into a verb), unless you are actually taking a step Now toward a future goal (and the "end" is not real, only the "means", right Now). (Eckhart Tolle)

I've been running around to various groups of people trying to get "help". "I'm not good enough." "I don't have the answers -- you must have them." "I can't do this on my own." Thank you, every one; you have helped me. Thank you for showing me just how fallible humans are. Thank you for showing me that the only real answer lies beyond us all. And yet, it's not beyond us. It's within us each. I can look within, instead of only looking to you. My own Being is worth something. The "something greater" doesn't necessarily mean something "beyond" or "without". The something within is connected to something greater. And the "something greater" isn't the words that come out of your mouth (I know, awkward noun-verb agreement), unless you connect yourself to it first before you speak. I know not to "listen" to you, now, if what you are saying isn't...True. If you know what Truth is, then I might "listen" to you, if I know what's good for me. But if not, I won't...if I know what's good for me. And I'm starting to know what's good for me = not "listening" to everything everybody says all the time. (The term "listen" I use to mean, "take what people say as True".)



I grew up with a neglectful, alcoholic mother and her abusive, alcoholic boyfriend. Then, I lived with my neglectful, insane dad and his abusive, meth-addicted girlfriend. In both households, I was a "stupid little bitch" who needed to "shut her goddamn mouth."

Teachers in school were the only ones who showed me kindness. They transmitted "knowledge," and if I was able to re-transmit that "knowledge" back to them just the way they transmitted it to me, I earned a mark of excellence that signified success, approval. Knowledge gave me the power to earn what I really wanted: Love.

I had few friends; kids who don't get good grades don't like kids who do. You have to make a choice - don't get good grades, and be "loved" by the masses, or get good grades, and be "loved" by the teachers. Teachers were the ones in power; their "love" was worth more. And their "love" more closely resembled the kind of Love I wished I could have gotten from either of my parents, the adults in my life who were supposed to Love me.



So I did my homework in the classrooms at lunch instead of socialize. Then, when I was 17, my younger sister, also desperately in need of Love (but who chose "love" from friends over "love" from teachers), came to live with me at our grandma's house. Because she was "loved" by friends, she was invited to parties. I had a job and a car, so I took her to these parties. There was alcohol available. I drank and I socialized, and for the first time in my life, people my age "loved" me, and it felt wonderful. My senior year of high school marked the beginning of my double-life. I still strove for good grades so I could be "loved" by teachers, but I still went to parties and drank so I could be "loved" by peers. I was accepted to UC Berkeley, UC San Diego, UCLA, USC...and drove me, my sister, and my cousin home drunk nearly every weekend.

Then I met the alcoholic, heroin-addicted boy who would become my new best friend and later my boyfriend and later my husband. He Loved me very, very much, and I him. After I went off to (what in this blog I call SDSU, or UCLA; not sure which one I've chosen to falsely represent the real) college, my boyfriend got kicked out of his mom's house when she found some heroin in his drawer, and he came to live with me in my dorm room. I couldn't keep my grades up; I chose his Love over my teachers' "love" (it felt better, real), and dropped out, moved in with him at his grandma's house, went to a community college, and worked part-time. Later, he started to get his "Indian money" (his dad, who abandoned him and his mother after his birth, was from a tribe whose casino earned their members a good few grand a month; his dad enrolled him as a member before his dad took off), and we moved into a house together. My double-life continued, as I earned straight A's in school, tutored English, Algebra and Geometry for AVID at my high school alma mater...and was sometimes up til 3 am wandering the town as we waited for our heroin hook-up to bring us dope.



My boyfriend had been raised by a single, alcoholic, abusive mother and (because his dad was gone) her alcoholic, abusive father (although, his grandfather showed him Love and not the abuse he'd shown his children). When we were together, I became the alcoholic, drug-addicted abusive girlfriend/wife and he became the alcoholic, drug-addicted, abusive boyfriend/husband.

Then we had a child.

I couldn't let our child grow up in an alcoholic, drug-addled, abusive home. Absolutely 100% NO FUCKING WAY was I going to repeat the cycle for my son. It took a couple of years though, for things to finally change. We tried counseling, 12-step programs - but the one thing that we were trying to change - the fighting - was a result of the one thing we refused to change - the drinking (we had quit the heroin years before our son was conceived...and I managed to not drink while I was pregnant, but boy was I pissed).

I wasn't getting my husband's Love anymore, so - I needed to drink.  And I was determined that I could control my drinking, if only I just [insert anything imaginable]. Besides, my drinking wasn't as bad as his, so mine must not be that bad, right? It never occurred to us that the only way to control our drinking was not to drink in the first place. "To control and enjoy his drinking is the greatest obsession of every alcoholic." (Big Book, ch. 3). As alcoholics, we have an allergy of the body and an obsession of the mind. Once we take one drink, we develop what's known as the "phenomenon of craving". And that phenomenon is more powerful than we are.



I'm glad that I can report that we're both sober today. Unfortunately, we didn't get sober until after I left him and filed for divorce, two years and two-and-a-half months ago (on October 10, 2011). He's 5 months sober now, and I'm 22 months sober; he's had a harder go of it than I, but he also got started much younger: his mom offered him his first drink at age 8. He got into her marijuana by 10 and was using heroin, thanks to the local gang, by 12. But after 4 rehabs and a stint in jail, he's doing quite marvelously. We share custody of our son, who's now 4...and if we're lucky, won't end up nearly as fucked up as we.

I'm grateful to recovery groups, especially the one that shall not be named (per its traditions). My ex-husband is more involved in an outpatient rehabilitation program that focuses on chemical dependency and depression, and that's what's working for him. But for me, the 12 steps, meetings and sponsorship have been making possible for me to not drink or use, one day at a time. What I'll simply call "The Program" (in honor of the 11th tradition, which states, Our public relations policy is based on attraction rather than promotion; we need always maintain personal anonymity at the level of press, radio and films) has also taught me how to simply "live life" (which is good, since I didn't have anyone else to teach me that while growing up...I was only taught to regurgitate facts or to do "bad" things).



After I was in The Program for awhile, I thought I'd try to solve other "problem areas" of my life by going to other programs. For example, I tended to spend way too much money and am in a lot of debt, so I joined a program for that. And after I left my husband, I had a lot of boyfriends and haven't stayed with any of them, so I joined a program for that. They don't have a "Mom's Anonymous", or I'd have joined that one, too; I really need a lot of help there.

But in all truth, I still spend too much money, and I still have boyfriends/dates/sexual encounters. But I work on a budget every month, and it gets better. And I do try to be honest with any man I get involved with at any given time, so I'm really not being a "bad person" there, either. The mom thing - well, I'm doing better than my mom did, perhaps, bless her heart...I just keep trying to do my best, every day. And my ex-husband and I keep Child Welfare Services (formally CPS) close by (i.e., we call them on each other at least once a month, lol); they're a big help.

I stopped going to the debt program, and am considering discontinuing to go to sex program, too. The program for alcoholics is the mother of all 12-step programs, after all, so why look any further for my development (in terms of 12-step programs)? Yeah, it's nice to go be around people with the same "problems" I have. But many of them aren't using the solution - the 12 steps -in the way that people do in The Program. The latter is a well-oiled machine. And if it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?



The Program also has a set of 12 Traditions that keeps it together. In these other 12-step programs, even if people work the steps (and many of them don't), people have no idea that there are also set of traditions that helps the 12-step program work for everyone (unless they are also members The Program, the only requirement for which is a desire to stop drinking: tradition 3). I am glad non-alcoholics do have access to a 12-step program for whatever ails them. But The Program was the first and the basis for all of them. That's why in The Program we say we're "grateful" alcoholics.

When it comes down to it, though, all one really needs to do for a successful, happy life, I'm told, is be honest, kind, tolerant, and loving, and free oneself of fear, resentment, dishonesty and selfishness (but not to the extent that one hurts his/her self: "to thine own self be true"). Self-preservation is really a by-product of helping others and yourself, apparently. It seems paradoxical, but it isn't: You only "keep it" if you "give it away", a saying goes. That's why the truly enlightened are always teachers (although there are many "teachers", in the most basic sense of the word, who aren't enlightened, which is the reason for this post in the first place, if you scroll back up).



Just for kicks, if you're curious, I'll share here the 12 steps which are suggested as a program of recovery from that state of complete powerlessness:

1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others.

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

So, it's really pretty simple. Admit you have a problem, clean house, make amends, and help others. If 12 steps seems lofty, check out the documentary that explains their evolution: Bill W. - Where do we aim what we thirst for? For more information, or if you think you may have a problem controlling your drinking, you can search online for a meeting (here is the website I used to find my first meeting: http://www.simeetings.com/LA/CalCountiesMtgIndex.html). The meeting is where it all begins.

If you aren't an alcoholic, Don Miguel Ruiz, in his book The Four Agreements (summarized here very well), also teaches us "how to live," with four simple commands: (1) "Be impeccable with your word." (2) "Don't take anything personally." (3) "Don't make assumptions." And (4) "Always do your best."



Then there's Eckhart Tolle, with The Power of Now. Here's a paragraph from his book that summarizes his philosophy for living quite well:

Always say "yes" to the present moment. What could be more futile, more insane, than to create inner resistance to something that already is? What could be more insane than to oppose life itself, which is now and always now? Surrender to what is. Say "yes" to life -- and see how life suddenly starts working for you rather than against you. (Tolle, 35)

 

And "The Cave Allegory" in Plato's Republic is highly illluminating.

So anyway...this post may have turned into proselytizing. I've used the term "you" loosely. But I'm just grateful to be learning new ways to live and to be happy other than needing people to love me, and I thought I'd share it all. I've realized how much power I've been giving people all my life, and how little power I've allowed my own self. I've also now subscribed to Psychology Today and have begun reading The Revolution: A Manifesto by Ron Paul. I'm trying not to assign God-like power to any of these works of words by people...but they are helping (along with, my favorite, the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous) to liberate me from assigning most people God-like power.

This is my Awakening. I'm 30 years old. Better late than never. I am so very grateful for those teachers who, however imperfect themselves, have taught me how to live as opposed to simply regurgitate information for their "love": Gautama Buddha, Plato, Jesus of Nazareth, Carl Jung, America's "Founding Fathers", The Oxford Groups, William G. Wilson, Ron Paul, Eckhart Tolle, Don Miguel Ruiz, Wayne Dyer, Rocco Versaci, Martha Margo Flores, Rich W, Christal Q....and last but always first, God.

And for the record: I'm still fucked up, and what I say isn't Gospel, either. I'm just like you. Hell...I am you. And I do Love you...because, for the first time in my life...I Love me.