Hurt feelings

 Last night T revealed something. Several months ago I shared a provocative picture of myself. I think it was me in some lingerie, a bra and panties. He made casual remark of feeling uncomfortable knowing that someone else has this picture of me. I shrugged it off and explained that I figure they probably have lots of pics of different women. Didn’t think of it again. Last night it came up again. Apparently he had never been sent a lingerie pic before, that’s not something his previous partners did. That was his first and he had to reckon with the idea that I’m more worldly than he is. And that made me feel some kind of way. He’s not used to being with someone who openly enjoys sex and intimacy like I do. Now I’m trying to figure out why I feel the way I do. 

Is it shame? Adrian says shame statements start with “I should have” - i.e. I should have waited longer to have sex with him. I should have used a condom. I should have held out on intimacy. I don’t want to feel shame. Maybe I did jump into this too quickly, as evidenced by the fall out from Valentines Day. I thought I knew him well, or at least well enough, but apparently i don’t. 

But why am I feeling shame? Why do I have this instinct to withdraw? Is it feeling of judgment? He adamantly insists that he isn’t, that he doesn’t want me to change anything about myself, that he loves how open and free I am. 

A few days ago I shared with him how I’m excited to buy new swimwear and I’m looking forward to wearing my bikini and thong on the cruise. He shared a skeptical face emoji, and apparently he doesn’t like the idea of something that is “his” being made available to the public. That some things should only be available for him, to include my butt cheeks. I don’t agree with that, it seems silly/foolish to me. Who cares what ppl look at, what’s that got to do with me? I’m not talking to these ppl, I’m not interacting, and I definitely don’t wear bikinis for the gaze of an unknown bystander. 

I could fall down a rabbit hole wondering how many men feel that way. Is that common, for men to expect some sort of say or censure in regards to what their partner wears? Willie never gave a damn but he didn’t give s damn about me either. Craig didn’t seem to mind when I went to the beach with him. T said that it doesn’t matter if I’m with him or not, he doesn’t like it. We talked, and I’m not changing anything, but it bothers me to know he has that mindset. 

And now this. 

I’ve decided, if he makes any attempt to shame me or make me out to be loose or harlot or anything - I’m leaving. I love myself more than anything and anyone (other than William). 

16 Apr 2023

 I wish someone could come save me. 

Someone to swoop in, capable and confident, to resolve my shortcomings and conflicts. Easily wrapping each problem in a neat bow.  Then pull me in for a hug, and tell me that everything is going to be okay. 

Once again I'm in a situation where I could use help, but have no one to turn to. Even though I ostensibly have a man in my life. For all his shortcomings as far as personality and manipulation go, Craig would have been here to fix my a/c. He would have had the know-how and knowledge to be able to talk me thru what I need to do, and he would have driven down to fix it. Even if he had to bring his kids with. Taffy... is only an hour away. I don't want to compare, because its' apples to oranges, but it's a reality of what being with him is like. I'm with a man who offers nothing to me.  Why? 

We went to New Orleans. He booked the flights: American, with a layover in Miami. I booked the hotel. I booked the tour ($55 each). I booked the party bus ($20). He paid for dinner; We both had gumbo ($14) and a drink each (?), and he bought our alcohol for the party bus. He paid for breakfast. Yes, I'm keeping tabs because it feels uneven. It feels imbalanced. Why? 

I have a lot to offer. I'm attractive, I'm affectionate, I'm worldly, I make good money, I'm passionate, I'm adventurous. 

He is tall, he is moderately attractive, he is affectionate, he is kind, he is spiritual, he is thoughtful, he is empathic. He has potential... 

Does he inspire growth? No, he is seeking to grow. He doesn't even know what he doesn't know. So where can he take me... ?  

Real time: what is he doing for me right now? He makes me feel good, he says loving things, gives physical affection, is someone to talk to. He offers an empathic ear when I'm frustrated or overwhelmed, but he doesn't offer anything else. I'm very much on my own, and that rubs me the wrong way. I feel that if someone is my man, he should show that he can shoulder that responsibility. 

He hasn't shown beyond a reasonable doubt that he is THAT dude. And I need that kind of certainty before I can really dedicate myself to being with someone.

On another note: I don't like how down I get when faced with adversity. I look to others for help or guidance, and on a certain level I do feel like I wasn't meant to be here on my own. But the fact of the matter is that I am on my own. Yes, God is my co-pilot. Yes, My family and ancestors cheer me on from beyond - but can they cashap me money to pay for Williams' camp or AC repair or fixing my car? Nope. 

I should have dropped him in February. Why didn't I? Because Petey prophesized him. She said God was bringing me a man, and I'd know he's the one because of his relationship with William. They're really going to bond well. And he's going to be a God Fearing man. And he's going to want to take care of me, and I have to let him. 

Everything tracks except for the "take care of me" part. He wants to... he professes that he does. But he doesn't. Is it worth my time? My energy, my effort?

13 April 2023

 It's 5:43 am, on a Thursday morning. I have a headache already. 

Something is wrong with me, and I'm not sure what. I feel powerless and unable/unwilling to do anything. There's so much that I'm avoiding, it doesn't make sense and I don't know why, so in an attempt to make it make sense I'm writing them down and the feelings I associate with it. 

1) Italian documents: in February Rapisardo emailed me several documents to sign, scan back and mail back... I haven't. No good reason. It's so easy to print out, sign, scan and send back to him. Not only have I not, I've been avoiding his messages and his phone calls. I'm also now avoiding Nonna's calls, because I suspect that he has reached out to Alfredo who has then reached out to her. Why... why am I avoiding this. 

    Feelings: Guilt, discomfort, shame. I want to pretend like it doesn't exist, and don't want any reminders of it. Out of sight, out of mind. IF I ignore it'll go away.

2) OPB - it's time for the Officer Performance Brief, the new version of the OPR. I hate OPRs, I always have a hard time with them. 

    Feelings: Dread. Shame. Inadequate. I'm not good enough. Avoidance, if I ignore it'll go away.

3) HOA - This one is confusing. There's HOA fees, and then there's this Vesta fee. I set up automatic withdrawal for one, but I also owe for another? I'm very much confused. It slips my mind, but then they send letters to my house saying I owe - but I'm still not understanding who or what I owe for. 

4) Working out - I know I need to. I want to be fit and trim for my birthday, which is coming up in August. All I'm doing is the weight loss medicine. No kind of organized diet, my nutrition is no good. I know I don't eat enough protein, not enough veggies, not enough fiber. I'm not sure what I'm eating honestly, it's quite haphazard. Not to mention that my fitness test is coming up in August, and I'm not training at all. 

5) Birthday planning - it is now April, my birthday is Aug 1. I have nothing planned. No notice, no save the date, no air bnb, nothing. Why. 

These are all big things. Why am I acting this way? It is not in my best interest to do this. But I don't want to do anything. I feel dread, I feel shame, but I just want to lay in bed and sleep or lay in the sun. I don't want to be productive in any way, I'm content to just lay here and avoid thinking about it. I can't do that. I need to get out of this stagnant energy. 

Not to mention that my house is a mess. Dirty plates in the kitchen since Monday. Clean clothes piled up in my chair waiting to be put away. Suitcase from the weekend on the floor, still full of clothes. 

I'm going to reach out for an emotion code balancing, I feel off.

Overwhelmed and Frustrated

 Today was another frustrating day. 

First, trying to rush William out the door this morning. Despite prepping him yesterday, making him go to bed early at 20:00 and waking him he still dragged his feet this morning. At one point I found him laying on the couch in the dark. I yelled at him, and he got up and went upstairs ostensibly to find socks - stayed up there for 10-15 minutes, doing what I will never know. Either lying down or playing with his legos. I was infuriated. I dressed, fixed his lunch, took Luke out, fed Luke, fed Kitty Baby all in the time it took him to get dressed. I think stood and watched him brush his teeth and brush his hair. He has no sense of priority, no rush, no hurry. I wanted to thrash him. It's so frustrating to see. He's old enough where he understands the idea of consequences, of cause and effect. He understands the words I'm saying, and the directives, but he doesn't translate it to action. My words mean nothing to him, he just doesn't give a fuck. Oh he'll act like he's sorry, he'll droop his shoulders and look forlorn and bruised but he doesn't change his actions at all. Nothing changes. 

This afternoon on the way home after picking him up from aftercare I asked if he had his math studyguide. His math teacher, Ms. Austill, sent parents an email yesterday giving us a heads up that she would be sending the students home with a study guide to prepare them for their math test tomorrow. You know this boy told me he left his blue math folder at home. Said that he didn't hear Ms. Austill tell them to take it home. I'm so sick of his scholastic laziness. Sick of it. I've yelled, I've fussed, I've guilted, I've lectured... he gets upset, he cries, and says I'm so mean yet here we are... not giving a fuck. I've already restricted ipad use to only weekends. So I kept him home from soccer. He was supposed to have soccer practice today, and I told him that since he doesn't take school seriously he doesn't need to be playing soccer. That school is more important than soccer is, and that since he left his math folder at school that he'll take the time he would have been at practice to practice on his math. Logged him into iReady and he did 30 minutes of math. After that I made him read for 30 minutes. That's an hour. He was sad about missing soccer but I told him that school is a priority. If he wants to do fun things he needs to be more serious about school. I hope that works. I can't afford him to be stupid like his daddy. My greatest mistake in life was pairing with that man. I cannot fathom how much my association with him has tainted and soured the promise of my life path. 

 I don't want him to grow up to be yet another useless ass man. A liability. 

This single mom shit is hard. There is so much to do and not a lot of time available to do it. Paying bills, homeowner shit, william school shit, extracurricular shit, work shit, taking care of my self shit, housework shit, yard work shit, car shit, dog shit, cat shit. Hell it's been a year and I still have boxes that need unpacking!! I don't have the available resources to confront each thing, I. am. tired. My default is tired.  Even if I get a nice day of relaxation to myself, by Tuesday I'm exhausted again. When will I get my feet under me, when will things straighten out? 

Sick and tired of being sick and tired. I'm tired of complaining. I'm exhausted and fed up, exasperated. I don't even want to talk about it, because whyyyyy. To what end? It isn't going to change anything. My life isn't going to improve by dumping my thoughts and worries and mental burdens on someone else. They can't help me. I don't want to be someone to pity or feel sorry for. Yeah, single mom life is kicking my ass but this is temporary. The turn is right around the corner, things are going to improve. Things are going to change. How? I don't know. William will become more responsible - he'll be proactive in his things, completing his chores and doing his school work/studies. His grades will improve, so I can stop paying for a tutor. My car a/c will get fixed. My HVAC system will be cleaned and maintained. I'll get new flooring in my bedroom so the ratty carpet will begone. I"ll get someone to pick up this damn dining room table, clearing space out of the dining room and giving me room to tackle those boxes of books. I'll promote to major, giving me a raise. Mom's 401k. The Italy house stuff. 

I dream of having someone to share these responsibilities with, but I honestly can't imagine living with someone. Having another adult in my house with me, sharing my space with them? All my secrets, the weird shit I do in the evenings before bed when no one else is around to see. I haven't met that person.

Dual parent homes

I finally caught up with my BGs on Marco polo. We hadn't talked in a few weeks, since valentines day really. I've been kind of in my hermit kick, holing away until I feel better. 

Courtney is looking to slow down her career, is stepping down from her director position and she announced her and Paul's plan to launch his full time photography career. She shared how he wants to be home more, and the Post Office is hard on his body. Not to mention it's a dead-end job. Jamie has been voicing his desire to have his daddy around, and Paul doesn't want to miss out on these core memories. Jan shared how she appreciates that Lew works from home and is readily available, and hopes that he is able to continue doing that for some time. 

Courtney then shared some childhood memories of having her dad around, at games and picking her up from school, and just his ready availability when her mom was getting her masters degree and both Jan and her shared their decision making process. It was beautiful hearing about how they sat down with their husbands and planned what they want their future to look like. Those kids are so blessed to have two parents with a shared vision of growth and aspirations for their family, and I can't help but to feel like someone on the outside looking in. 

I can't imagine what that must be like, to have a Partner to plan my life with. Even when I was married, there was no planning. He didn't have any aspirations, why would he, he was already living at his peak. I cannot fathom being with someone and growing together, tangibly. Establishing a goal and working toward that, for the mutual benefit of our family. I think I'm screwed. 

From what I've seen so far, it's not promising. I haven't met any man who wants to grow with me, or is growing, or interested in a "us" as a family. I'm not sure that exists, or if it exists I'm not sure that I'll find one. 

Adrian says to remember God is my co-pilot, I'm holding on to that. God wouldn't leave me hanging. I'm not alone in this. Although I feel very alone. I don't know how my mom did it, but then again she also made a lot of mistakes so... that's probably how. 

I feel so incredibly lonely. 

Journaling - March 15

Usually I prefer to physically write my journal prompts, but I feel that I'm going to have a lot to write this time around and I don't want my hand to get tired and I get lazy. 

Adrian says that anger helps us see where we are being violated/trespassed and where we need stronger boundaries. I've felt a lot of anger lately, towards Willie and towards Tavarean. She says I still have a lot of unprocessed grief related to my divorce and failed marriage, and encouraged me to do some journaling regarding that. I also need to do some journaling regarding Tavarean, and my anger and grief and indecision regarding him. First Willie - 

I havent' been on Blogger in probably years, and the first post I saw was one dated January 2020. I think it was an unsent text message. I read it again, it seemed like the for the first time, and it brought back so many memories of loneliness and gaslighting. I read more entries, and remembered just how miserable I was with him. How poorly he treated me. How alone and isolated I felt. The man who was supposed to take care of me, treating me like common garbage. Adrian says that I get so triggered by him because there's still unprocessed feelings. I don't know how to process those feelings. 

Old pictures of us get to me. I'm 39 now, I was a few weeks shy of 21 when I met him. He turned 36 about 8 weeks after we met. I remember when I was 36, and realized that I was the same age when we met... and looking at 21 year old as ignorant kids. You couldn't pay me to hang out with someone under the age of 25. I have one friend, Maya who is 10 years younger than me... and that's only because we were roommates in COT. Otherwise I don't think I would have befriended her because she's so friggin young. Yet this man met me, and thought I'd be a good choice of a wife. 

Why did my mom encourage it? Mom thought it would be a good idea for us to date, she didn't think twice of the age difference. I guess she thought he'd be a good pastime for the summer, but I was 20... what made her think that I knew anything about having a "pastime"? And why didn't she ever sit me down and talk to me about the relationship, the inappropriateness, the lack of a fruitful future? She knew, there is no way that she couldn't see the fat-ass bold writing on the wall, but she let it happen. Why didn't she love me enough to re-direct my future? Why wasn't she proactive in directing my life trajectory? I shouldn't have had to learn all of this from first-hand experience. I can also recognize that I had never seen her with a "quality" partner, none of her partners were ever on her same social level or professional level. It never occurred to me to look for that in a potential partner. 

Our wedding pictures sicken me. 

I see my bright youthful optimistic face full of hope for the future, and in his face all I see is avarice and greed. I feel like he used up my youth. He drained me of vitality and opportunities, while he stalled with his lies and obfuscations, demanding to be the "head" of a household he didn't have the wherewithal or savvy to lead. He took from me, took advantage of my mother's love for me and my son, of her desire to see us happy, and had no intention of ever being able to support or provide the lifestyle he knew I wanted. He had no issue with taking from my mom, from me, from my nonna - he never hesitated to take a handout, with no plan to reimburse or reciprocate. 

Now looking back he has so many qualities that I abhor in a man, but I don't know if that's because of my experience with him so now I'm super sensitive.

It's the lack of return on investment. I believed him for so many years. Promises of applying for programs, degrees, Personal Training, always followed by excuses and reasons why he couldn't. I believed him because I loved him, he was my husband so why would he lie to me? But he did. He never showed any vulnerability to me, was never willing to indicate that he didn't know or wasn't sure or was worried about anything. Even when he blew his knee, he was always adamant that it's not because of old age, that it's an injury that could happen to anyone at any age. I never understood why he would repeat that over and over again, he would get so offended if anyone suggested it was because he was old. Now I know that he was insecure about it. The one thing he had was his physical strength and prowess, and here he was approaching 50 and his knee gave out on him. 

I don't know what to write - but he disgusts me as a man. He's the ultimate example of a failure, he's CAT (lacking courage aspiration and truth) the basics of what a "man" should be. TAke gender away, he lacks the basic building blocks of what a good person should be. He is all talk, no action. He makes promises but doesn't uphold. He holds more importance in image versus substance or reality, and will go to great lengths to portray the image of a Good Man and a Beautiful Family but doesn't seem to grasp the reality of what that means. 

 When I think of the marriage - I feel anger. Anger at Willie for using me and ruining my future, and anger/sadness at myself for allowing myself to be led down this path. Granted, how could I have known. I'm angry for that young girl not having any guidance. I'm angry at the adults around her for not giving her guidance, particularly her mother. 

I Just rented Adult Children of Emotionally Unavailable Parents, going to listen to the audiobook, that's another issue altogether. 

I tried really hard for that marriage to work. I had a vision for a future, and his insecurities and ignorance hobbled us from day one. I sought a partner to lead me, and he was too ignorant to even know what he didn't know.  

Now I have to be my own leader, which is fine, but it isn't easy. I'll follow-up with another post about dating and seeking a partner. 

Willie disgusts me at because although my expectations are pretty basic/Mickey Mouse, he still consistently fails. I don't know what his baseline is, and thus I continuously overestimate his abilities and subsequently am continuously disappointed by him. That disappointment triggers remnants of disappointment from my own father, who did nothing but fail as a dad. I so hoped to have found a "better" father in Willie than I had, and in some ways he was better. He didn't' do drugs, and he didn't run off to leave me to raise 2 daughters alone in a country where I didn't speak the language well ... but he's still a shitty father and husband. That triggers my anger, because I'd hope/expect him to do better by William. I can understand not giving a damn about me or my desires but at the very least do better to provide a good life and childhood for his only son.

January 2020 writing prompt

January 2020 writing prompt

"Write about a time someone talked you into doing something you didn't want to do"


Candles flicker against the dank stone walls of a basement, outlining the periphery of an elaborate pentagram chalked onto the bare concrete floor.  Deep cold seeps through the fabric of my jeans, numbing my legs at the pressure points.  Droplets of a dark sticky substance are spattered across the floor but when I try to focus my gaze on them my head starts to swim.  I'm so tired. The air hangs heavy with the mixed scent of beeswax and old damp, and something else that I'm afraid to name.

Why is that so important? I get the nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something important, something vital but what?

At that moment a faint scuffing noise draws my attention to the darkest corner of the room, which the faint candlelight refuses to illuminate.  My disorientation worsens as I try to decipher the shadows in that dark corner, as if my eyes refuse to focus no matter how much I concentrate my efforts.  They refuse to dwell there, I can't see a thing, only a hazy darkness. What am I doing here? Where am I?

"Julien? Is that you?" A small familiar voice calls out from that corner.

The bile rises in my throat as chill bumps spread across every exposed surface of skin on my body. That voice...

"Julien!" The child's voice calls again, "I'm scared. What's going on?"

Julien... in a rush my mind is flooded with clarity. I am Julien LeFleur, and the last thing I remember is.... dammit I can't believe I'm this stupid. Stupid stupid stupid!!

Family legend claims that the LeFleur clan are Sensitives. That we have a closer tie to the spirit world and to the unseen.  All my childhood I grew up hearing stories about great aunt so-and-so who claimed to have had a conversation with the devil at a crossroads and left with her soul intact, or big daddy such-and-such who was able to predict every birth and death in the family down to the day.  Grandmere professed to hear angels up until her dying day, and my little sister... sweet little Faustine.

What was I doing? Grandmere is probably rolling in her grave right now, she taught me better than to mess around with this kind of Foolishness. That's is what she called dark magic, Foolishness. As if negating the damned and making it out to be silly would somehow lessen the danger.

A wave of nausea rocks me back to reality. Cold sweat beads on my upper lip and brow despite the cold. A susurration of voices in my head.  Out of reflex I raise my hands to my ears and scream.

"STOP!"

Deafening silence, like the muted stillness following snowfall. Or the expectant silence indicating the presence of a predator.

"Brother, help me" The plaintive voice calls out. I can't see her. What is she doing down here in this godforsaken hole? My baby sister. I was supposed to protect her! Keep her safe!

Soft sobs erupt from the darkness "I'm scared... where are you?"

Why can't I remember? The soft dripping of liquid hitting the concrete floor snags my attention. This... is wrong, there shouldn't be this much blood. I feel so weak. No, I'm not supposed to. Can't remember why, but there's the nagging feeling that I'm only safe within this circle.

"W-who are you?" I call out to the darkness. Silence fills the air. Angry now, "Who are you!". It's not Faustine, not my little Faustine. 

My Faustine died months ago, struck by a speeding vehicle just outside of our house. It was a crisp autumn afternoon. She was outside, as usual, trying to convince me to play hide and seek with her. Somehow she got too close to the road just as a delivery truck sped by, and apparently lost her balance. If I was out there with her, instead of inside the house ignoring her... my stomach knots with the remembered anguish of that day.

A small girlish voice calls out "Please help me... I can't go on. You called me here, and now I can't go on. It's dark... and scary." She pleads "Please brother".

Protective instincts take over just as guilt rears its ugly head. Is this my fault too, am I causing her pain in death? How? "'Tine, what do I do? Don't be scared, I'm coming to get you". I drunkenly shamble to my feet, shoes slipping in the blood and wax that has accumulated on the floor beneath me.  My limbs feel heavy, I'm gasping for air. So much blood...

The whispering is back. Telling me exactly what to do. This isn't right. I don't want to, but I have to save my little sister. That's my job,  I'm her big brother, her protector, that's what I'm supposed to do.  I stand to my full height, square my shoulders, and fix my gaze to that dark corner as I step over the faint chalk outline.  I can almost see her face, just as darkness envelopes my consciousness.

******