More About Mom and Dad, my First Date and my First Boyfriend

My mom let me go on my first date when I was twelve, with a guy who was sixteen. His breath smelled like popcorn at the movies, he was fat, and he had a lot of zits. He asked if he could kiss me, but I said, "No." I didn't go out with him again.

When I was sixteen, my mom let me have my first boyfriend, who was twenty-one. He asked if he could kiss me, and I said, "Well...okay." But I decided to get out of the relationship after he shoved his tongue so far down my throat that I couldn't breathe. While writing the break-up note, I asked her if I could lie and say that my mom just wouldn't allow me to be with a twenty-one year-old. "I guess," she said.

My dad was out of the picture. He still is. So is my mom. They have abusive, meth-addict or alcoholic significant others, respectfully. It's been that way since I was eight.

The Berklee School of Music Singer/Songwriter, part 9

It takes what it takes.

I know, that sentence is about as obvious and maybe as lame as "It is what it is," but, people continue to use it nonetheless.

It's also kind of like when you're looking for something you can't find, and someone else is in the room, and when you finally find it, you say to that person, "It just figures! It was in the last place I looked!"

Well, duh.

Okay, I've generalized enough. What did "it" take, you may be asking, and what is the "it", anyway?

My relationship/engagement with Jason is finally over - and it took him physically assaulting me last night and me getting a restraining order today for it to finally be over.

Your reaction may be kind of like what normal people say when they see somebody drink too much all the time and not stop, despite all the horrible consequences he suffers. "Why can't he just control himself?" Or, "I don't see why he doesn't just stop drinking! Can't he see what he's doing to himself?"

Abusive relationships are kind of like that, too. Women like me - women who were raised in abusive, alcoholic/drug-addict homes - tend to repeat the cycle and can't seem to stop. Even when we're aware of it, getting out is just so hard. But again, it takes what it takes.

The nice abuser-hater lady at the TRO clinic gave me a poem today for me to read, along with a bunch of numbers for domestic violence support, as she was doing my paperwork. She had all ready asked me all the pertinent questions, and I had described how Jason had slammed me into walls and choked me on the bed, that I had to kick him off of me to get out  - and that's the reader's digest version of an assault that actually lasted 30 minutes and left me traumatized (again). I had brought in pictures I had taken of my cut lip and bruised neck and chest - Exhibit 1, photos A and B.

The woman was very kind to me. She had a bulletin board on her wall covered in thank you cards from other women she'd helped through the Volunteer Lawyers program. "This is your third bad guy, huh?"

I knew I had gotten two restraining orders before; I had completely thought about the third one. "Actually," I said, "More like my twentieth, if you wanna know the truth." And that wasn't even the truth. More like 30. "Only" three were bad enough though to have to have gotten restraining orders. It's kind of like that whole last-place-you-look, thing. Obviously I hadn't found a "not bad" guy yet.

I was pretty embarrassed. At first I felt like I had to defend myself, but she stopped me. "Don't worry; we have a lot of resources for women like you, so this doesn't happen again. At least this time it was only 7 months." She handed me a brochure with a bunch of domestic violence phone numbers, including a 24-hour hotline I can call if I think I'm going to go back to him. "Did I give you the poem the last time you were here?"

I couldn't recall, or if she did, I didn't remember reading it. So she gave that to me, too:

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN 5 SHORT SENTENCES

By Portia Nelson

I.

I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost. I am helpless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.

II.

I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I'm in the same place but it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.

(And that was where I was like, "Just walk down a different street!" But it kept going, of course...like we do...)

III.

I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in... It's a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

IV.

I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

V.

I walk down another street.

(The grammarian in me says, "Hey, that's not five sentences"...but the word "sentence" is to not be taken grammatically literal, but more of a..."period" in one's life, if you will.)

So...

Here I go. Walking down another street. If I fall into a deep hole on this one, it will be my fault.

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.

My Memoir Outline:7-8

7

I work at Pizza Hut as assistant manager. It's 3:45 pm. I opened the store today and get off at 4. We need batteries for our scales. 

I walk around the corner and buy batteries at Radioshack. 

What are you doing later? the guy at Radioshack asks me. There’s a $300 karaoke contest at Acapulco restaurant in San Marcos and I’m thinking about going, I say. I’ll go with you, he says. He gives me his number. Okay, I’ll text you later, I say.

I get off work and get home and I change out of my work uniform. I put on the Batman tank top that I’ve had for years, and some jeans Ronnie got me at an online store in New York, years ago. I do my hair and make-up. I take off in my car for Acapulco.

I'm too early. The contest hasn’t started yet. I leave and go to the San Marcos Brewery across the parking lot for one of their Honey Ales.

I go back to Acapulco. The DJ is setting up. I sit at the bar and order a Margarita, double Patron Añejo. There’s a table of four Mexican guys behind me. One of them comes and sits next to me. He buys me another Margarita double. His name is Angel. I tell him about Ronnie and Lyle. He tells me about his ex and his kid. We show each other pictures of our kids on our phones. 

I sing Adele’s “Someone Like You”. My phone is dying. I tell Angel I gotta go out to my car to charge my phone. My plan is to leave. He follows me.

I plug my phone into the car charger and we go back into the restaurant. Angel buys me another drink. I drink it and say I have to go to the bathroom. I go to the bathroom and stay in there for a long time. I mess with my hair. I do more make-up. I go out and Angel’s still standing there waiting for me. 

Karaoke is over. The DJ is playing salsa music. Angel buys me another drink. I drink it. Let’s dance, he says. Okay, I say. We salsa for an hour until I can no longer stand.

I need to go charge my phone in my car now, he says. Come with me, he says. He pulls me by the hand and I go with him. 

We get in his car. He starts kissing me. I want to make love to you, he says.

We have sex. 

I tell him I have a boyfriend. He frowns and looks down. How can you have a boyfriend? he asks. Why didn’t you tell me that before? he asks. I don’t know, I say. It's not serious, I say. I told him I loved him and he didn't want me to use those words, I say. It really hurt, I say. You're gonna break up with him then right? Angel asks. Yeah, I say. Can I call you tomorrow? he asks. Sure, I say. I give him my number.

I’m drunk. I drive through In-n-Out Burger and get a #2 and eat it in the parking lot before the long drive on two freeways back home. I scream and cry and look at pictures of Lyle on my phone while I eat.

8

The next day, Angel calls and I don't answer. I text the saxophone player from SDSU who was in the jazz band with me three years ago in 2008. His name is Rico. He wanted me back then, but I was with Ronnie, and had been for seven years. Back then he kissed me after a jazz concert but I stopped him.

Hey, let's meet up tonight, he says. I can't wait, I say.

I don't work today. I go out and buy a little black dress and heels and new lingerie. I get home, shower, blow-dry my hair, and put make-up on. I put on the lingerie, the black dress and the heels, and I grab some jeans, Converse, and a button-up plaid shirt to change into for my ten-year high school reunion afterwards in Bonsall. It's tonight.

I get to Rico's parents' winery in Rancho Bernardo. I text him from the parking lot. He pulls up in his white BMW and rolls the window down and tells me to get in. I get in. He starts driving. 

I try to unbutton his pants. What the fuck are you doing? he asks. Did I say you could fucking touch me? he asks. I laugh and I stop.

He pulls over on a dimly-lit neighborhood street and pulls his pants down around his ankles. He shoves my head down onto him violently. Put your fist up my ass, he says, as he's pulling my head up and down by my hair. I can't breathe. I put my fingertips in first and he tells me to push them in harder. I throw up on him. Eat your vomit and keep eating my cock til I cum, bitch, he says. Put your fucking fist in my asshole, all the way, you cunt, he says. Oooh, yeah, fucking harder, he says. Now put your fucking fist up your ass, he says. I start with a couple fingers and he takes my hand and pushes it all the way in. He ejaculates into my throat and gag and I throw up again. He says, swallow all my fucking cum, bitch. Fucking swallow it, he says. Mmmm, you like that, huh, you like that you fucking cunt, he says. I gag a few times, then I throw up some more, then I swallow what's left.

He drives me back to my car. I get out. He drives away. I get into my car.

I clean myself up and I scream and cry. I take off my black dress and heels on the freeway as I drive and cry. I get into my plaid shirt and jeans and Converse shoes.

I park my car at the country club. Evan is calling. He doesn't know about Angel or Rico. I don't answer. I don't want to be with you any more, I text. Come on baby, don't end it so fast, he texts. Where are you? he texts. My ten-year high school reunion, I text. Let me come meet you, he texts. No, I text. I turn my phone off. I fix my make-up and hair. 

I go into the country club and sit down at the bar. I order a Jack Daniels Single Barrel and Coke, double.

I mingle with people I recognize. Jorge Montoya is talking to me, along with his friend Sakito Uchiyama. 

I drink two more Jack and Coke doubles while mingling. We all take some group photos.

Everybody is leaving the country club and going to a bar called Ringers a couple miles away. I go too. I'm drunk.

I sit at a raised, small table with Jorge and Sakito. They buy me a blue-ish green drink. I don't know what it is. I drink it.

There’s a band. Me and Lisa Lopez start dancing together up front.

I sit down at the table with Jorge and Sakito. They buy me another drink. Then I start dancing with Lisa again. The guitarist motions for me to get up on the stage. I get up on stage and the guitarist gives me his pick. I strum his guitar while he holds his guitar.

Jorge and Sakito buy me another drink. Sakito and I go outside to talk. It's cold. We put our arms around each other and we talk about our college majors, him math, me music. I hate how there's so little funding for music, I say. Music is math, I say. You could use music to teach math, I say. I work for the government, he says. I'll pay you $1500 to come up with a way to use music to teach math, he says. I have a software guy, he says. Cool, I say. We can have all kinds of exercises on it that use math and music together, I say. We’re going to Cambodia to an orphanage in a month, he says. We can implement the program and teach the kids how to build musical instruments using math, I say. Sakito says great, let's do it. Okay, use the $1500 to buy my ticket, I say. Sounds good, he says.

We go back inside. The band is done. They’re starting to leave. The guitarist puts his arms around me and walks me to their van with them and helps me inside. 

We smoke weed. 

The drummer in the front seat unzips his pants and the two guys in the back seat take my pants off. I go down on the drummer in the driver’s seat while the guitarist and someone I don’t recognize fingers me from the back seat. I make out with the singer in the passenger seat and then go down on the drummer some more. She gives really good head, you guys, he says. 

They let me out of the van and Jorge is waiting for me back at the entrance to the bar. He asks if he can follow me home. I say yes. 

Jorge follows me home and comes inside. We have sex in my bedroom in what used to be my grandma’s bed. Can I do you in the ass, he says. Sure, I say. He does. He goes home. I pass out.

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!