So Many Dreams

J is on my mind so much lately that he has invaded my dreams on a regular basis, when I'm not dreaming about pythons endangering school children (that's a whole different story, not for today, maybe not ever).

I regularly dream about J and me being together.  In all of my dreams, we spend much of our time in bed together... just like real life.  In all of my dreams, he and I are dating and trying to figure out if we will be more than that.  It's a common theme that plays out in different ways in each dream.

Last night's dream had him spending the night with me at my mother's house.  We were trying to be sneaky about it, but he wasn't careful enough the next morning to get out without getting caught.  We were all embarassed, but I said to J after she went back down the hall, "Well, I am over 50 after all.  She's got to know that I have sex sometimes."

W was nowhere to be found in the dream at all.  There was no question from anyone about him.  It was though he just didn't exist in the dream.  That isn't always true in these dreams.  Sometimes W is a factor in the dream.  Sometimes not.

On another note, I worry about J during my waking hours.  The prison where he works is on lockdown due to an inmate murder.  It is so very bad there since they closed the supermax prison and moved a lot of those prisoners to the prison where J works.  They moved some of the officers too, and that hasn't gone well.  Lots of disgruntled officers.  Lots of disgruntled inmates.  It is a volatile combination.  I want J out of there.  He is just a few years from retirement.  I wish he could go ahead and retire early, but even if he could I don't think he would.  Financially, he needs the work in spite of the risks that go with it.

Thursday Therapy – Agitation

Agitation was the overriding theme of my session with Freud yesterday. I’m sure Freud would’ve realized I was agitated even if I hadn’t mentioned it to him. My body language was full of tells. I repeatedly stretched my arms over my head. I reached for strands of hair and twirled them. I played with the employee badge on the lanyard I was wearing. In summary, I fidgeted through my entire session. This is so unlike me most of the time. Most of the time I sit back and sit still except for occasionally crossing my arms (when we talk about uncomfortable subjects) or reaching for a tissue (when we hit a nerve).

I have felt very agitated ever since I saw J last weekend. I always feel agitated after J and I have been together. I feel like I can’t sit still and yet I don’t know quite what to do with myself. This usually lasts for several days until I somehow get myself back into my comfort zone. I wish I could pinpoint what it is I need to do to get myself there so I could speed the process along. Perhaps the process is one that can’t be hurried though. I don’t know.

 

We discussed my reaction to J’s characterization of me in high school as “promiscuous.” That seems to be at least some of the reason for my agitation this time. J really hit a nerve with that one. Freud said that it didn’t sound to him as though I was promiscuous back then but just a normal adolescent. Let’s say we just have to agree to disagree on that one. Just because I didn’t “go all the way” with anybody in high school, I certainly went pretty far with J and some of the others, Greg particularly. And I certainly was not loyal to my steady boyfriend, J. While I respect Freud’s opinion and get a lot of help from our sessions, this is just one issue he can’t persuade me on. A slut is a slut is a slut whether you physically follow through or not in my book.

 

Freud kept bringing the conversation back around (oh yes, I deflected a whole lot, tried to meander off onto tangents repeatedly) to what it is that I get from my relationship with J that I don’t have in my life otherwise. What gap in my life am I trying to fill with J?

 

What I have identified so far:

•  Physical intimacy – not just sex, even though that’s a part of it, but cuddles and kisses and hand holding and looking each other in the eyes
• Connection to the past and happier, more carefree times
• Camaraderie that is just plain fun, verbally sparring with one another and a sense of playfulness

 Is there more? Maybe…

 

 At one point Freud asked me about W and what keeps me with him.

 

I told him there are two things:

• I don’t know how W would make it without me, and I find it incredibly difficult to take that leap particularly given that his relationship with his grown children is now dead.
• My insecurity about being able to handle things on my own, particularly things like arranging for the multitude of home repairs and maintenance items that are an ongoing part of older home ownership

Could I dump both W and the house? Leave him with the house and walk away from the equity? He couldn’t financially maintain the house on his own. Could we sell the house, split the equity and go our own ways? I hate to do that when the real estate market is still soft. Not to mention the house is a pig sty and to get it in shape to show to potential buyers would be a nightmare.

 

At another point Freud asked me if I’d ever thought about what it might be like to be married to J. I said yes, lots of times. Then he asked did I think that’s what I would want. I blushed and stammered around and finally admitted that yes, I very much think that I want that even though there is massive evidence of why it would not be a good idea. I won’t go through all those here again. I’ve mentioned them in the blog on various occasions.

 

Assignment until the next therapy session: continue to identify unmet needs that I’m trying to fill with my relationship with J and start to think about alternative ways of meeting those needs.

 

Sigh…

Here's a Laugh for You

As I was thinking about the state of me, it dawned on me that from a physical sense I have been completely monogamous with J since the spring of 2010.

Hah!

Now there are several factors that contribute to that:

1. W and I have no physical relationship.  We are completely platonic.
2. When I turned 50 I lost my sex drive entirely for a long time.
3. My one attempt at a hook up a few weeks ago went totally bust.

I would like to think that it reflects a more mature me.  I would like to think that it reflects my devotion to waiting for the right man.  I would like to think maybe it shows a little loyalty to J. I would like to believe those things, but I just don't think they are much of a factor.

Late addendum to this post:
Like an idiot I decided I needed to point out my "faithfulness" to J and sent him a private fb message to that effect.  Can't seem to keep myself from trying to win him over.  WTF is wrong with me?  Seriously... 

Promiscuous? You Must be Joking!

Yesterday’s post was a quick one due to time and location constraints. Today I will elaborate a bit more on the weekend and some of the discussion J and I had.

We were fortunate enough to be able to spend a few hours together both on Friday night and Saturday morning. I made the daring suggestion that he stay in a motel right here in town to maximize the amount of time we could spend together. Although I knew that left open the possibility that someone who knows me might see me I decided taking the chance was worth it. We also went out to dinner together Friday night, again right here in town. I kept an eye out for anyone I might know, but we lucked out and didn’t run into anyone. I had a few ideas in my head regarding cover stories but was glad I didn’t need to use them.

While we were at dinner, we were reminiscing about our high school and college years. Here’s where things got just a little wonky for me. I tend to remember things with a bit of a skew to them, a skew to fit my own self-image and self-story. I suppose many of us do that. Anyway, J challenged my take on reality just a bit when he summarized my personality back then as not at all shy and introverted as I remember but as, of all things, “promiscuous.”

Promiscuous? Me? In high school? I hardly think so! I maintained my virginity, technically, throughout high school. I certainly was not promiscuous! If one used Bill Clinton’s definition of sex I never had sex until late in my freshman year of college. Promiscuous? Ridiculous!

Or was it ridiculous? No, not really. I have a way of using selective memory. If you asked me before, I would have told you I had one boyfriend at a time in high school with some times being boyfriend free altogether. However, J brought up something I had forgotten all about, and then remembered after he reminded me.

At our end of year band banquet (yes, we were both band geeks) my senior year, during the “awards” time they announced the award for band couple of the year. My memory was that it was J and me. His memory, and his is more accurate because I too remember this now that he reminded me, was that it was me & Eddie, me & Greg, me & Randy, and me & J. Now, to be fair J & I started dating Halloween of my senior year (something else I had forgotten until he reminded me) so really Eddie was before J & I got together so I don’t count that one as a bad thing, at least not from the promiscuity angle. The freshman boy dating a senior girl angle: now that is a bad thing and probably explains why we lasted only through a couple of dates, including Homecoming dance. Truth be told, I went out with Eddie because I wanted to go to Homecoming, and he was the only one to ask me.

Now, with Greg and Randy he had a point. I did hang out with both of them more than a girl going steady ought to hang out with other boys and participated in activities a girl ought to only participate in with her steady boyfriend. I never really dated either of them, unless you count cruising and parking as dating. While I thought of myself as “sociable” I can certainly see how it could also rightfully be interpreted as “promiscuous.” Also, I can see how it could be incredibly hurtful to J. I’m surprised in hindsight that he put up with me and my antics. I wouldn’t have if I had been him. I’m also surprised he never called me out on it back then. WTF? I know I interpreted his lack of reaction as tacit approval at the time. I’ve always been one to push the limits to see where the limits are. If you don’t draw a line in the sand I just keep running down the beach.

Putting on the 20/20 hindsight glasses, I realize that as mature as I thought I was back then I was really quite immature. I played very juvenile games, mostly because of my insecurity. I thought I would be lucky to ever have a guy interested in me and so I would just do my utmost to attract as many as possible. Of course, this is not a good plan. The quality of companionship you get when you act desperate is not the kind of companionship you truly desire. The kind of guys who go out with another guy’s girl are not the kind of guys you really want to look forward to a future with, and really I knew that. They were my fun guys. I never considered a future with them the way I did with J. But looking back, how on earth could I expect J to consider a future with me? Why would he want to tether himself to somebody who would blatantly run around on him with other guys right in his face? Sheesh. Stupid kids. Both of us really.

Then there were the college years. I hurt J big time when I told him that I had lost my virginity to another guy. Why did I tell him that when I was home on break the summer after freshman year? It was a misguided attempt to get him to show me he cared. J always kept me off balance, always stayed just aloof enough that I wasn’t ever sure if he really loved me. I realize now that he put up a wall as a type of protection for himself, but to me at the time it seemed as though I loved him so much more than he loved me. I felt like I was always on the verge of losing him, and I would do things (really stupid things) to try to get him to get off the fence and either love me or hate me. And he kept coming back (which should have told me something!) with his aloof indifference.
Only last Friday did he tell me just how hurt he was over all those things I did back then. Only then did I feel like I was way more perpetrator than victim in our relationship. Only then did I start some soul searching, and I am far from finished. On Saturday morning, I apologized to J for my treatment of him back then. I feel that my apology was far less than he deserved, but I’m also not sure what I could ever possibly do to make amends for my treatment of him.

I anticipate this being a big topic of conversation with my therapist on Wednesday.

Flawed People Can Do Amazing Things

The title of this post isn’t 100% a reflection of the meat of this post, but then again it isn’t totally off the mark. It is the thought that keeps popping into my head as I reflect on my discussion Tuesday with my pastor.

As I mentioned at the end of my last post, my therapy session on Monday left me feeling less than settled on anything. I felt like we barely got started before we had to end. I was a mess and spent much of the afternoon at work fighting back tears as I tried to concentrate on spreadsheets full of premiums and claims and admin expenses. My emotions were barely under the surface, so much so that by that evening twice the singers on The Voice that night made me bawl. Since that is hardly how I wish to go through life, and I felt like I desperately needed to talk to someone I turned to my pastor.

Now, please understand that I am not the person that normally goes running to the pastor for counseling. As a matter of fact, I have spent most of my life avoiding such conversations like the plague. I have always felt the need to appear like I have it all together and am a model Progressive Christian around church people. Oh, I’ll fight the fight for understanding and empathy for others who have fallen, but God forbid I admit to having messed up myself.

However, my current pastor has made me feel eminently comfortable in being able to admit to imperfection, to admit to being human and having human failings. It is only because of this that I have been able to confide certain things to her in the past and the only reason I could confide in her on Tuesday.

I started by giving her the synopsis of the 30+ year debacle in which I have put myself. (See previous posts ‘cause I ain’t repeating it again.)

God did not strike me with a lightning bolt when I confessed. Not that I really thought that would happen. After all, God has known all along what I’ve been doing and what I’ve been feeling and the struggles I’ve had with all of this. And deep in my heart I know God to be loving and forgiving. God has always been there for me when I’ve been good and when I’ve been bad.

However…

I know that there are churches where there is no way one could retain a position of leadership if it became known even to only the pastor that an affair was occurring, particularly one that the participant of the affair is not even willing to say she is definitely stopping. I know that my church is pretty much not like that, but there is always that fear that runs through me. So I didn’t know for sure if she might not ask me to step down from the committee that I chair and represent on the church council. She didn’t. When I mentioned that I wasn’t sure I should continue considering seminary given what I am involved in she reminded me that no one is perfect, that we all have sin in our lives and that it doesn’t magically go away just because we attend seminary or become ordained.

So apparently, there is hope for me yet.

All along in this I have thought that if ever J and I were exposed at least it won’t be to a national and international audience. Nobody is really going to care that two virtually unknown nobodies had an affair. We may go through hell with friends and family but at least the media wouldn’t be camped outside our doors. We wouldn’t be fodder for discussion on news shows and jokes on late night TV.

But I’ve digressed. Back to my discussion with my pastor.

The locus of the discussion was really around what would make me feel like a happy and complete person. After some discussion, I said that what I really wanted was to be available for a fully committed relationship with someone that is fulfilling physically, emotionally and spiritually. After that, she kept bringing our discussion back to that point.

I have discussed before with my pastor my relationship with W so she is well aware that all is not rosy in our household. She was very clear with me that from all I have told her W and I no longer have a covenantal relationship between us. It was broken long ago, and the fact that we still have a marriage in the legal sense does not mean that we have anything resembling a marriage in the spiritual sense. The relationship is not fulfilling in either a physical or emotional sense, although spiritually it might be somewhat. It is clear from the past several years that it is not likely to change in any substantial way.

Clearly the relationship, or whatever it is, with J is not fulfilling in any sense. It is something I hang onto because it is the idea of J that is so appealing, not the actual person.

If I want to even be available for the possibility of finding a fulfilling relationship then I have to let go of both of these relationships. Headwise, this makes tons of sense to me. Headwise, I can see that I should let go in both cases. Heartwise, I just can’t seem to make myself do it. Yet I know that the only person who would be [insert derogatory term of choice here] enough to enter into a relationship with me knowing that I am tangled up with those two would not be the quality of person I would want to have a long term relationship with.

Yesterday, after I met with the pastor I was reading some of my old posts about J. Sigh… I recycle these same things over and over and over and over and never seem to make any sort of progress. And in spite of that I remain a relatively productive human being. You wouldn’t know that from what you know of me in my blog, but I am. I do a lot in my real life and occasionally even make a difference in someone’s life. Even though I’m flawed… really, really flawed.

More Tuesday Therapy (even though it's Wednesday now)

Where were we? Oh yes, I had given Freud the Cliffs Notes version of “The Not So Great Love Story of J & TS.” So there I sat, damp tissues in my hand, in the waste basket, and just about everywhere. I imagine I was quite the sight. At least there is one benefit to never wearing makeup – no oddly colored streaks on your face.


I assumed Freud would immediately tell me how awful J is for me, that I need to find a way to extricate myself from him. Nope. Freud’s focus, and I agree it is a good place to start, was to help me determine what it is that I get from the relationship with J. What hole am I trying to fill with this relationship, and are there other healthier ways to fill that hole? (I just reread what I wrote there, and I swear, if any of you are smirking at that last sentence I will personally reach through your computer and throttle you.)

Freud even pointed out some of the benefits that I mentioned through my narrative. Number One was FUN. J and I have a playful banter that occurs almost constantly when we are together. We revel in the verbal parry and jab. We laugh, or at least smile, a lot when we’re together. We always have, both 30 years ago and today. Even when my emotions get the best of me, we still maintain that banter. Is my relationship with J the only way I can have this lighthearted playful time? Are there other ways to fill that void?

Then there’s connection and history. J and I have a lot of shared history. We know each other so very well. We know the good, the bad, and the ugly, and we’re still willing to talk to each other. There is something of a comfort there, a soft place to land, sort of. Are there other places I can find comfort? Are there other soft places to land in the world for me?

Freud pointed out that you don’t hang onto a relationship if you aren’t getting something from it that is feeding you. If you can find a healthier place to feed, then it makes it easier to let go of the less healthy place.

Unfortunately, we ran out of time at that point. I was far from ready to quit. I had myself so churned up that my stomach hurt. Yet there we were, at the end of the session.

Before parting, Freud asked if we’d decided a place to have Thanksgiving dinner. (I shared with him in our previous session that I had announced to W and N that I would not be cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year, and that they are welcome to cook for us or take me out. They chose to take me out.) I told him yes, we decided on Cracker Barrel. So there you are. We’ll be the party of three, sitting at the corner table, looking morose, eating our turkey and dressing and being thankful for… yeah, I need to think on that one…


The post script to this one is that later that night, when it was very late and I was very much not sleeping and still pretty worked up, I texted my pastor asking if I could meet with her this week. Very early the next morning, when it was far too early to be up but she has a less than one year old daughter who kindly wakes her in the wee hours, she texted back to set up an appointment for that very day. Therefore, my next post will be about my session with my pastor where I continue to pine away for the person I can’t quite have, and where for the first time in my life I confess to my adultery to a member of the clergy.

Tuesday Therapy

Freud suggested that having a private journal where I write about my experiences and feelings pertaining to J, as well as other things, might be a good way for me to work through some of this. Hi there private journal, read only by invisible (not imaginary, very real, just invisible) internet friends and random strangers! Let’s see what tales I can tell today.

Yesterday’s session was brutal. I spent much of my time in tears, some of it sobbing, some just tears rolling down my face. I used many tissues. No wonder therapy is so expensive. Their paper goods bill alone must be daunting. It was bad that I had to go back to work afterwards because that meant I had to find a way to pull myself together and not look like a complete sack of shit, but it was good that I had a 15-20 minute drive across town to accomplish it.

While I have mentioned J, and our affair, in therapy it hasn’t really been the crux of conversation. Why? Well, since I’ve been seeing Freud J has kind of been a background character in my life rather than an all consuming obsession. I’ve had other things to worry about and therapize (not a real word, but I like it so I’m using it) about, such as:

• Getting my medical depression under control
• BJ’s and my breakup,
• W moving back in and my decision to turn martyr by allowing him to,
• My on again off again attempts to lose weight,
• My physical fling with M (Oh how I miss M sometimes, just from the physical release standpoint. A good orgasm occasionally is a miracle drug I tell you.),
• My ups and downs at work,
• My disagreements with W over parenting,
• My Dad’s death within three months after my grandmother’s.

Anyway, J came up occasionally, but never in any substantial way. Yesterday, he was right at the heart of it all.

 

One thing I will say for Freud is that he is completely unflappable. No matter what craziness I spew in session he takes it in stride never letting on that he might think I’ve gone round the bend. Why, yesterday he even told me that he doesn’t think I’m crazy at all. That’s comforting a little I guess, although what would truly be comforting is if he told me I was batshit (apparently this is not a real word either) crazy, and here’s the cure for it. Do this, and all the crazies will go away.

 

Anyway, I started with a rather detailed background to bring Freud up to speed, and really, it is terribly difficult to tell a 30+ year story in under an hour. You really have to do the Cliff Notes version, which I did, but I was also brutally honest. I figure that Freud can’t help me much if I don’t just put it all out there with as much honesty as possible.

 

So here, for those who haven’t read my blog in its entirety (And if you haven’t, why not? It’s fascinating and sickening all rolled into one, if I do say so myself), is a synopsis similar to the one I gave Freud. The History of J & me in a nutshell:

 

1977 – J & I start dating while in high school. (Yes, I really am that old. Shut up.)

 

1979 – I start college. J stays home with one more year of high school. J remains my “at home boyfriend” while I enjoy dating life on a major college campus

 

1983 – I graduate the first time from college and am “engaged” to a guy there although nobody knows of our engagement except him and me. I continue dating J when I’m home.

 

1984 – I graduate from college again, am still “engaged” and still dating J as well as a couple of others in other parts of the country (I travelled for work so it was easy to keep different guys different places).

 

1985 – Getting a bit tired of the “fiancé” but never broke it off, still dating J as well and starting to put a bit of pressure on J that perhaps we should get married and start a family. J says he’s not ready. I meet W and well, made one of the worst decisions of my life and ran off to CA with him without goodbyes to anybody.

 

1988 – Marry W after his divorce is final. Shortly thereafter receive letter from J saying that he’s now ready to get married and asks me to come back to him. Cry profusely as I read his letter and as I write one back to him telling him of my marriage. Felt absolutely trapped and unable to get out of the marriage to W because I was halfway across the country, estranged from my family, and totally dependent (at that time) on W financially.

 

~~~~~~and for many years W and TS live a life of ups and downs, goods and bads, adopted N~~~~~

 

2000 or so – God bless the interwebs and Classmates.com. I start to reconnect with high school buddies. Email back and forth with J a few times, just general catching up on what all has happened with marriages, children, jobs, and whatnot. And that’s it, for now.

 

2003 – Moved back to Midwest, within 80 miles of J, but no contact.

 

2004 – High school reunion. Made plans to go. Contacted J. He still lived in town and wanted to get together. I said sure maybe our families could have lunch together or something. He said no, how about just you and me? I said no. I got scared of what I might do and made up an excuse not to go to the reunion.

 

2006 – J contacts me, and we start flirting via email, then via phone, then in person, all leading to finally crossing the line “all the way” and have sex with one another for the first time ever (That's right people.  We dated several years in our teens and twenties and not once did we have sex.  Not that I wasn't willing.  He was just terrified of getting me pregnant, which sounds pretty funny now considering how "broken" the female parts turned out to be, like happened to his brother and his brother's girlfriend.  Lack of a sex life with J may have played a part in my dating a lot of others during those years.  Not that it excuses my behavior, just partially explains it.)

 

2007-Current – J and I carry on an ongoing emotional, and occasionally physical, affair throughout the BJ years and the W and me "reconciliation" and everything else.

  

Whew! Even condensed that is one damned long story.

  

Okay, hopefully in the next few days I’ll have a chance to write more and go into our actual discussion, short as it was. What great insights did Freud have to offer? What suggestions did he have for abolishing the crazy from my brain? What are my plans for Thanksgiving? This and more in our next episode…

Let Us Give Thanks

Thank goodness I see Freud today instead of the usual Wednesday (thanks Thanksgiving for making this shift necessary long in advance before I knew what a state I'd be in today).

J is playing me.  J is playing me really, really well.  Even though I can see he's playing me I am hanging in there.  I hang in because J gives me jussssssssssssst enough to make me delude myself that there's a chance.  Oh yes, J is playing me like a well tuned fiddle, and I keep letting it happen.

And now... now I'm starting to have stalkerish thoughts about J.  C'mon Trueself, do not turn into a stalker.  Do not go that crazy.  Given that J is a corrections officer and knows how to deal with scary criminal types, I really do not need to go all stalkerish crazy on him.  Really bad idea.  Really bad...

Since Friday night, I have thought of nothing except what I want to talk to Freud about today.  Too bad we only have an hour...

I Don't Get It

J, like most men to me, is a mystery.  I have no idea what is in his head most of the time.

What is scary is that I think we are the essence of the cliche, the old joke that goes something like this:

Her side:
He got in the car and didn't say anything, and then when I asked about going to the party he said "sure" but he had a far away look, like something else was on his mind.  Then I saw the cute bouncy blonde from down the street walking by.  Oh sure, was gazing at her.  Look at that little smile.  That's what had his attention.  I knew it.  I knew he was hiding something.  I'll bet he has something going on with her.  Of course he does.  Why else would he look at her that way.  What a jerk!  He isn't interested at all in me anymore, just her.  Okay, that's it!  I'm done.  I am sooooo out of here.

His side:
When we got in the car and she asked about the party I said "sure."  I was preoccupied with how I had ended up at the bottom of the league in fantasy football this week.  Then I thought of the perfect trade I'd just made and how much better off I'll be after next week's games.  Yeah that brought a smile to my face.  Wait?  She's leaving?  What'd I say? What'd I do?

I know I didn't tell it well, but you get the idea.  Women go around making up stuff in their heads while the guys are just going along without a clue what the woman is thinking or why.

That's me with J.  He leaves so many information gaps that I fill them, and I fill them in the most paranoid and negative ways.  Of course, then I turn right around and fill them in the most overly optimistic and naive ways.  For a while I'll think how he hates me, how he only wants me for the occasional booty call, that he'd really rather be with anybody but me if only he could.  Then I'll switch around, convinced that his love for me is so strong that he puts up walls to protect himself lest I hurt him like I did twenty some years ago.  Now, the truth probably doesn't lie on either end of the spectrum.  As far as I can tell, I'll never know for sure.

I overanalyze everything. 
He didn't tell me his wife left him in July when she left him. 
He didn't tell me his wife left him in July when he started asking me to meet up with him a month or so ago.
He didn't tell me his wife left him in July when I chatted with him one Saturday not long ago and lamented that he couldn't meet me in ST2 when I was there by myself for a good part of a day.
 
He finally told me when we were talking on the phone while I drove home that evening but only because I started asking many pointed questions because I couldn't figure out how he could get away with spending so much time talking and texting with me that day without it causing problems with his wife. 
I asked him why he was able to talk so much that day.  He told me she wasn't home. 
I asked if she was working or out having fun.  He told me she was at her mother's. 
I asked if she was just there for the day or longer.  He told me she'd been there since July.
I asked why he didn't tell me this sooner.  He told me it isn't the kind of thing you just tell somebody in an email or a text message.
I asked why he told me that day he couldn't meet me in ST2.  He told me that he didn't have gas money plus he had lent his car to his neighbor.

WTF?  I have spent the time since then concocting all sorts of stories in my head that would explain all this.  I'm sure none of them is right, but I also fear that the real explanation is one that I would not like. That fear and uncertainty is just eating me up. 

Why don't people just say whatever it is they want to say?  Why don't they just cut the crap and get right down to it?  Why is it better to leave someone wondering than to just come out with it, whatever it is?  I'm not saying people ought to be rude or mean, but there are polite and tactful ways of saying things, even negative things.

If all you want from me is a booty call, then just say so.  Say so, and then I can deal with it.  If you want to be with me in a real relationship but just see too many obstacles, then just say so.  Say so, and then we can deal with those obstacles together.  If you want to drive me crazy, then just keep on doing what you're doing.  Keep doing what you're doing, and then I will probably go batshit fucking nuts.

No Toe in the Water

Oh no. I am not a toe in the water kind of gal. Nope. I just jump right in, both feet up to my knees before I know it.

I texted J last night, regretting the email that I had sent and asking him to delete it without reading it if he hadn’t already. I decided it had been stupid to send. I stuck myself out on a limb and wanted to retreat back to the safety of my little hole in the base of the tree.

Naturally, he had already read the email. Naturally…

Excerpt from last night’s texting:

J: If u feel as if u shouldn’t have sent it what does that mean? Are u coming down sometime?

TS: It means I get scared that I’m going to scare you away. And it was a stupid rambling message. And I should just shut up.

J: I m at a loss at the moment. I just want u to come down n we will meet as before.

Now, I don’t know what to make of that text from J. Or… maybe it is that I don’t want to understand what I think he’s trying to say there. I think he’s trying to brush me off while maintaining that occasional piece of ass he’s used to getting. AND THAT ISN’T WHAT I WANT. So… I try to ignore that aspect of it and focus on the part about him wanting to see me.

So…

After much thought and deliberation (like about six minutes so, ya know, plenty of time to think this through to a rational and prudent decision {NOT}), I texted back.

TS: Ok. I’ll try to come down. Any chance you can take a Friday off?

J: I can try…why?

TS: Just thought we could have more than an hour or two

J: Oh I see.. yeah just let me know which one, n where u will b

This, my friends, is how it came to be that in a couple of weeks I am going to go down and spend the day (and maybe overnight) with J. I’ve already gotten the day off approved at work. Now I just have to come up with and perpetrate the cover story for home use.

As the song says:
Tell me lies,
tell me sweet little lies,
tell me lies,
tell me tell me lies…

Today's Email to J

So………

What is it that you want from me? That is really what has me confused and stirred up. What exactly is it that you want from me? What is your desired long term outcome here in terms of our relationship?

I really think I will probably never get out of this relationship what I would like to get out of it. What would be nice is to get a clear idea of what you want to get out of it so that I can decide if I can live with that level of relationship or not instead of sitting here wishing and hoping part of the time and completely giving up and pushing you away the other part of the time.

I know I’ve messed up plenty in my lifetime. I can’t change the past. I can only live in the present and try to make the right decisions for the future. I totally screwed up when we were young. I wish I had hung in there with you. I wish I would have been patient and waited for you. Then I messed up almost worse when I decided to try to make things work with BJ instead of you a few years ago. I don’t know why I do things like that. I don’t know except to say that no matter what I won’t give up on you again. I know that. For all the frustrations I feel sometimes over you, they are far overpowered by the love and positive feelings I have for you.

Are you as afraid of losing me as I am of losing you? I know I push you away sometimes because I’m afraid to keep you close, afraid that it would hurt that much more if I lost you. I try my best to stay away from you when you are married because I don’t want to screw up your life. That’s why I pushed you away recently when you were trying to contact me. I knew your wife had a lot of jealousy, and rightfully so if we’re honest here. I didn’t want to be the one that messed up your marriage. If I had known of the separation I wouldn’t have tried to push you away. If I had known I would’ve let W believe that I was bringing RB down to {city close to J} even after that changed, and we could’ve spent some time together.

Recently I wrote this to the one really close friend [NOTE: this is YOU my invisible internet friends, but didn't want to scare him by admitting just how many people I've shared with, even somewhat anonymously] with whom I’ve confided about all my wild shenanigans the last few years:

There's something comforting knowing that J and I are there for each other, sort of, no matter what. We've loved, we've lost, we've fought, we've agreed, we've disagreed, we've laughed, we've cried. For the last several years we've been there and seen the best and worst of each other. We have kind of been each other's support system, long distance, spotty in ways, consistent in others.
That's kind of what makes it scary. What if we were truly together? Who would have our backs then? Who would be there to fall back on? It's like we're afraid to make each other #1 because then who would we have to fall back on? It's like getting ready to jump out of the plane with one parachute and no backup. What if it fails? What if the one thing you pin everything on fails?

Maybe that isn’t at all how you feel, but I do and wonder sometimes if you do too.

Sorry for the long and rambling email. I’m just trying to figure this all out. You always have had a way of keeping me from feeling completely at ease with our relationship. Maybe that won’t ever change, and I never really will understand our relationship. I don’t even know if I should send this email or just delete it. It’s like every time I see you, every time I talk to you, every time I email or text you, I’m always afraid I will finally do or say that one wrong thing, whatever it may be, that will turn you away from me forever, and that, my love, is my greatest fear.

Crossing my fingers, closing my eyes, and hitting Send.

Love,
Tru

More Thinking About J

Trying really hard to figure out why I can't ever let go of J.

Part of it, of course, is that he never really let's go of me. In that way he is different from others I might be inclined to hang onto. It's hard to hang onto someone with whom you have little to no contact, but with someone who regularly gets in touch, it's harder to let go. Add to that the fact that J always says "I love you" when we end a conversation. Contact plus positive affirmation.  Yes that's a part of it.

There has to be more though.

Another part is my dissatisfaction with life with W. It is one of those things where it is something I'm willing to stick with when there isn't another possibility than being alone. (OMG, am I really that woman? Yes, as much as I don't want to admit it, I am.) However, am I willing to turn my back on J to stay with W? No. I just can't make myself do so.

There's also something comforting knowing that J and I are there for each other, sort of, no matter what. We've loved, we've lost, we've fought, we've agreed, we've disagreed, we've laughed, we've cried. For the last several years we've been there and seen the best and worst of each other. We have kind of been each other's support system, long distance, spotty in ways, consistent in others.

That last paragraph? That's kind of what makes it scary. What if we were truly together? Who would have our backs then? Who would be there to fall back on? It's like we're afraid to make each other #1 because then who would we have to fall back on? It's like getting ready to jump out of the plane with one parachute and no backup. What if it fails? What if the one thing you pin everything on fails?

That's what this feels like to me.

Oh, and yes, I quite clearly understand that I completely turned this post around from my initial purpose of trying to figure out why I can't let go of J to why J and I can't make the leap to a real relationship.

So sue me.

J, J, J

So......................................................

J is separated... again.

Now, he had been contacting me a lot lately, and I should have suspected.  However, my lil pea brain didn't go there.

Finally, after many texts and phone calls today he finally 'fessed up to it.

I am one more time torn between wanting to try to have a permanent relationship with J and wanting to stay here in the status quo.

Why oh why can't I ever just let J go altogether?

Why did I ask him today how many more women he's going to marry before he realizes it's supposed to be him and me?

Idiot! I am a fucking idiot.

Thursday Therapy: Who is This???

Yesterday I had my first visit with Freud in a month. Usually I go every two weeks but between my schedule and his in July we just didn’t have time for each other. Normally, this would have bothered me. I would have felt a loss and some neediness. Not this time. This time I took things in stride and can’t recall ever having the thought of wishing I could talk to Freud about this or that or whatnot.

Yesterday, Freud said something that floored me. He finds that my depression is well under control, and perhaps even gone. “Really?!?” I thought. Then I thought some more and decided that he very well could be right. I do seem to have a much better attitude lately. I seem to be coping with things in a more positive way.

So I asked W about it last night. Did he see me as having come up out of the black hole? Yes, he has noticed it for some time but hesitated to mention it for fear of jinxing it.

Apparently with the right combination of meds and therapy I have emerged on the other side of the black hole of depression and found the light at the end of the tunnel to be not a headlight from an oncoming train, but sunshine, beautiful warm welcoming sunshine. My problems and challenges have not gone away, but my attitude in dealing with them has. I find myself much more willing to approach things in a sound and reasonable way rather than with negativity and a defeatist attitude.

Life really is good, in the main. I’m not happy with W, but on the other hand, neither am I miserable. I am my own person and can live my own life with him at the periphery. I don’t need a man, whether W, BJ, J or any others, to make my life complete. My life is complete because I am complete. I am a whole person, rather than the broken mass of parts I was before. I no longer go to therapy to bitch and moan and complain about how life is just not fair and what a victim I am. I now go to therapy to work on specific issues, to find better ways to react in certain circumstances, to learn how to take care of me without stepping on others, to just plain work on being a better person.

What a major shift all this is. I feel so very good most of the time now. Why complain? It just is what it is. Things that have already happened are in the past. No amount of worry or reflection can change the past. Therefore, I remind myself to let the past go and hold on only to the lesson learned that can be applied now and in the future.

I know that reading this, it doesn’t sound like the same person who used to write here. I don’t feel like the same person either. And it feels really very good.

The Sleeping Beast Wakes

Since about the time I turned 50 I lost all interest in sex. Now, if you’ve read much of the older parts of this blog you know that is just about a 180 degree turnaround for me. Somehow my 40’s were my “escapade decade” of lust and lasciviousness. Then almost simultaneously with turning 50 I lost all desire. The sexual appetite went to zero, nothing, nada. It was if someone had finally flipped the switch to the OFF position.


Thus, living with W reached a new level of tolerability. He didn’t want sex. I didn’t want sex. So what’s to argue about? (Well, other than how he treats N, and his hoarding habits, and his incessant time spent playing solitaire on the computer, but other than that...)

So began more than a year of détente. Notice not much blogging occurred during that time. What on earth would there have been to say? I decided that I was a better person when I had no desires of a sexual nature. I decided that since I wasn’t feeling it there was no use forcing it. The vibrator sat idly by. I sat idly by.

Then, within the last couple of weeks, a few urges started creeping back. Sex started to sound more interesting than it had in a very long while. I’ve actually engaged in some playful banter full of flirtation and double entendres while chatting with a couple of people (J being one and an old blogging buddy the other). I am not seeking out opportunities, but if an opportunity arose I am pretty sure I would jump at it. Don’t worry though. Opportunities are few and far between so there is little likelihood that any of us need to contemplate the consequences of that.

Last night I took matters into my own hands. The nightstand drawer was opened for the first time in a long time so I could get out the toys for a little bit of “me time.” It was okay, but it just made me hornier rather than satisfied.

I did discover that I need a new vibe. The old one has a short in it or something because it will work, then not, then with just the right jiggle will work again for a bit. I am considering heading up to the “toy store” to get a new one. I’ve only been there once (or maybe twice) with BJ there to keep my nerves from getting the best of me. Am I adult enough to enter an adult store all by myself? I’m not 100% sure, but I’m going to try to muster the nerve. A girl’s gotta have suitable toys when the real thing is not available. Of course, I know I could order online, but then everybody in the house would ask what’s in the package so I would prefer not to go that route.

Looking Back. . . and Ahead

Found this meme and wanted to do it. I think I’ve already done it once in the past (as in a couple of years ago), but that’s okay. Since it is time based it will be new and different even if I did do it before.

Looking Back
Ten seconds ago I was sorting through old files on my ‘puter.
Ten minutes ago I was sorting through old files on my ‘puter. (Yes, it is taking a while, particularly as I get sidetracked by stuff like this.)
Ten hours ago I was watching a rerun of Criminal Minds since I couldn’t fall asleep.
Ten days ago I was working like mad on gathering data for a Federally mandated report.
Ten weeks ago I was sending the following email to J:
Ten seconds from now I will be publishing this on my blog.

J,
Well, here I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth. I didn’t want to bother you since the last time we got together you seemed to be feeling like we ought not be spending time together. I miss you like crazy too. Although wishing won’t make it so I do wish things were different for us.
N’s doing pretty well. He’s in middle school now which was a big change from elementary school. He’s pretty much the bright spot in my life. W is still living in the house. We also have another housemate – a woman from church who needed an inexpensive place to live. I charge her minimal rent, and she helps out a lot with things around the house and yard so what she doesn’t contribute in money she contributes in effort, which is more than I can say for W unfortunately. I’m lucky to get any $$ from him for anything as pretty much all that he has goes towards his massive credit card debts plus he is pretty much worthless when it comes to housework or yardwork.
But enough complaining. I just take things as they come, day by day. I’m getting more involved in church leadership, heading up the worship committee and planning to participate in a mission trip (not far, just to inner city Chicago) in June. I find that the more involved I am with church and my spiritual life the better contented I am even when things aren’t all going my way. I’m planning a big birthday party for April 30, and you and your wife are invited. There’s nothing wrong with attending a birthday party for an old (very old now) girlfriend you know, and I certainly won’t let on that we are anything more than that.
Sorry that 2010 sucked for you. Hope 2011 is better.
Come up with a day and time for us to meet up and I would be glad to. There are just a few days that wouldn’t work, mostly the days when the women’s choir I belong to has performances. Otherwise, I can make my schedule flex around things, even if it means taking a day off of work.
Love,
TS

Ten months ago I was getting ready to chaperone N’s fifth grade trip to Chicago, helping with the planning for his fifth grade graduation, and trying to be the best soccer mom I could be.
Ten years ago I was still living in California blissfully unaware that the company I worked for would go bankrupt a couple of years later and change the course of my life.

Looking Ahead
Ten years from now I will be living on my own without a husband to take care of (I’m assuming, based on very recent events that I may share on my blog soon, that he will either be deceased or at least in a nursing home by then) and with a grown son out on his own (I hope at 22 he’s out on his own although I know there is no guarantee of that).
Ten months from now I will be in the dead of winter grousing about the snow and the cold and wishing for spring to arrive sooner than later.
Ten weeks from now I will be celebrating Memorial Day.
Ten days from now I will be looking forward to payday the next day.
Ten hours from now I will be catching up on some of the shows on my DVR that sat unwatched over the weekend due to the NCAA tournament.
Ten minutes from now I will be working on finishing up my monthly reports.

Maybe I Don’t Want Your Face in my Book

I may or may not be on certain social networking sites. Well, okay, obviously I’m on Facebook as is alluded to in the previous post. Facebook is a great (note sarcasm) way of staying in touch with those who are, or were, important to you. Oh yes, I’m friends with all sorts of people from my past and present – J, BJ, W, my first love (who I may have to give an initial to if I keep talking about him), not to mention a host of church friends and old high school friends, and even a relative or two.

As someone who is used to hiding behind the persona of Trueself (TS) both here and on Twitter, it is a bit unnerving to be on Facebook with real live people from my real live life. I am used to my virtual life being, for the most part, separate and distinct from my real life. There are some exceptions where I’ve allowed some people from my virtual life into my real life. There have been no exceptions where I’ve let anyone from my real life into my virtual life. So to state the obvious there has only been a one way exchange between virtual and real. If you can stand me in my virtual life then it is pretty obvious to me you can stand me in real life. It doesn’t necessarily hold true the other way.

Wait, that last paragraph kind of went askew from what I really wanted to talk about here today. What I started to say, but then didn’t, is that as someone who lived online incognito for a long time it has taken some getting used to being my real self (vs my true self, heh, heh) online when on Facebook. Sometimes I post something that as TS I could say without a second thought. Then I realize, OOOPS, this is IRL me not TrueSelf me, and I go back and delete the posting. I’m getting better at catching myself before actually posting those types of things, but it still happens rarely.

Once again, that last paragraph sort of went where I wanted it to but not quite.  I'm still skirting around the issue of the day (or actually of yesterday since I had to stop writing smack in the middle of this post and come back to it) because, well, because it means admitting I've done something stupid.  Not that there is anything novel in that.  I do stupid things all the time and post them on here.  I just somehow feel extra stupid on this one.  This one is all about taking chances and putting blinders on to the fact that I'm taking chances.

 

Okay, so this is totally and completely my fault and my responsibility.  Oh sure, J may hold some culpability also, but I am willing to own my share of the blame here.  On Monday I sent a V-word message to J via Facebook. I told him Happy V-word Day and how much I love and miss him. I didn’t post it to his wall or anything.  I sent it as a message to him.  He and I have exchanged messages before in that same way.  Also, yesterday I replied to an email he had sent me on Sunday.  In it I asked him about firming up plans to get together sometime in the fairly near future.  Although no specific activities were mentioned one might have been able to read between the lines and get the idea that perhaps some intimacy would be involved if one were so inclined to read it that way.

A couple of hours after yesterday’s email was sent I got a friend request on Facebook. . . a friend request from, of all people who have Facebook accounts in the world, J’s current wife. There was no accompanying message, just a simple friend request.


Now, I very well may be overreacting (Who? Me? Overreact? Surely you jest!), but my first thought went to her having seen my Facebook message and/or email message to J. I wove a scenario in my head that he left his computer vulnerable (not signed out of Facebook and/or email maybe) and that she, being that she is unemployed and with plenty of time on her hands according to J, had been looking at his stuff, found my messages and now wanted to friend me to check me out before deciding on a course of action, which would probably in the future include doing things (well deserved things I might add) to ruin my life.

I’m sure what little color I have (palest human on earth, remember?) drained from my face as I ruminated on what I’m certain will befall me soon. I envision nastiness about me being posted on Facebook by her. I envision her making her best efforts to cause me discomfort with my family, friends, and colleagues, all of whom could easily read any postings she might put up on my Facebook wall. I envision me being mortified over the whole thing and losing the respect of many, many people who mean a great deal to me.

I tell you all of this as a cautionary tale. Don’t be stupid. Of course, there is plenty of stupid to go around. We see politicians and celebrities wallow in stupid all the freakin’ time. We watch as their lives implode quite publicly when they get caught up in these sorts of things. They suffer from nationwide and even worldwide embarrassment and humiliation. At least for me if it comes to it mine will be of a much smaller scope, and maybe I won’t have to resign or hold a press conference to apologize or go to rehab for my supposed sex addiction. Yet it could still be ugly – very, very ugly – and hurtful to me and those close to me, and it would be all my fault. So don’t do it. Don’t be stupid. Don’t take for granted what you have and what you don’t want to lose. Don’t risk it for stupid.

Even if nothing comes of this. . . Even if she just sent a friend request because she likes to friend all of J’s Facebook friends. . . Even if this ends up being no big deal. . . Even if. . . Then I lucked out, and I still need to heed my cautionary tale. I need to step back and reevaluate and decide how much I am willing to risk for stupid.

In the meantime, I’m still contemplating whether to accept or decline her friend request.

And It Begins Again. . . Maybe

It’s a funny thing about boundaries and taboos. It is scary, sometimes very scary, to cross a line, to step over a boundary, to go into forbidden territory. However, once you’ve gone there it’s even harder not to go back. There is something about having done it, having crossed the line already that makes it easier the second time and the third and so forth.

That’s why it’s important to think long and hard about it before making that initial leap. It’s much harder to go back than it is not to go there in the first place. So my advice to you is don’t go there. Don’t step across the line. Don’t cross the boundary. At least don’t do it unless you really think you want to keep going back there.

So what does this have to do with my life right now? What has me thinking of such wise and philosophical advice? My dark side. I have a dark side – a deep dark side with deep dark thoughts. If you’ve read this blog for a while you certainly know that.

Right now I am in a sexual drought. M moved away in the spring. J hasn’t contacted me in a long time, and since he almost got caught the last time we were together I don’t think we’ll be getting together anytime soon. In short, I am sex starved. When I go through a sexual drought my mind wanders into dangerous territory. Sometimes, too often some would say, my body follows my mind and wanders too.

At this time I’m in the mind’s arena only, but if the opportunity were to present itself I have little doubt that my body will follow. It isn’t just if an opportunity arises. I am working pretty diligently to find a willing partner, maybe more than one, maybe several. I’m not just looking for straight vanilla sex either. I’m on the prowl for down and dirty, a little kink here, a little perversion there. I’ve been trolling some of my old haunts, and found some new ones, on the internet to see what/who I can find.

So desperate do I feel for carnal pleasures I even emailed BJ the other day. I did it not because I want him back (I don’t) or that I’ve never gotten over him (I have). It’s just that he is one of very few people in the world who I trust 100% in a sexual way. I know him. He knows me. We know each other’s most perverse perversions. I know he would take care of me in the manner I want if we were to try living out some of my fantasies. He and I have conversed a bit, and there is definitely a possibility that we will be getting together to play one of these days.

And all the while the little cricket on my shoulder keeps whispering to me, “Danger Will Robinson! Danger!” (Wait a minute. Did I just mix a metaphor? Why yes, yes I did. That’s what happens when you have a prolific post with no proper ending.)

Really Quick Update apropos Nothing at All

This is a scatter shot post – just things that I must say but without the time to really talk about them to the extent I’d like.

Item #1
I auditioned for and was accepted into a local women’s choir. This is not just a cutesy little community group either. This is a group that has four CDs published and has won a national award or two. To say I’m ecstatic would be an understatement.

Item #2
N and I went on vacation last week. It was the hottest week of the summer, and we spent it at a theme park, water park, and attending a major league baseball game. I may never be hydrated enough ever again.

Item #3
W is absolutely driving me crazy. Thank goodness I had vacation last week without him. (Actually I invited him to come with us but he declined. In this case, he was smarter than I.)

Item #4
A little more than a week ago I had a first round HR only interview for a local job at a global company. I am supposed to hear this week if I get asked back for an interview with the hiring manager. Keep your fingers crossed ‘cause this sounds like a good job.

Item #5
My hair is longer now than it has been since I was in college, and I’m actually enjoying it. I always thought old ladies weren’t allowed to wear their hair long, but I’ve always liked my hair best that way. Wanna know why I let it grow? J asked me to back when we first got together again. Go figure. . .

Item #6
There is no sex in my life right now. M moved late in the spring, and of course W and I have nothing at all physical between us other than the occasional hand extended to help each other get up out of a low chair. I miss sex.

That’s it for now.

Thursday Therapy: Idling in Neutral

This past week is one of those times when I feel like I’ve just had the gear in neutral and have idled. I don’t think this is a bad thing. It is sometimes necessary during any process to just take some time and space for nothing. Even God took the seventh day off. Not only that, He then included it in one of His commandments to us. Time off – a necessary part of life and all the processes therein.

Consequently, I don’t feel like I have a lot to talk about here this week. One never knows though until getting into the flow of the writing though where it will go or what and how much ground may be covered. Most all of my posting is just stream of consciousness stuff. Let’s see where the stream leads today.

Last Friday, I met with a journalist who is working on a story about women like me. Specifically, she is writing about moms who cheat. She had put out the call on Twitter, and I responded. We met for only an hour, not nearly enough time to cover everything but enough time I think to cover the basics of how it started and a lot about J and how that relationship continues on a sporadic basis today. Also, she’s read some of my blog so she wasn’t entirely unaware of me and my less than stellar side. It felt brave in some ways to talk to someone IRL who hasn’t been part of my little circle of imaginary internet friends about that side of me. It was a little scary, but Mrs. Chicken couldn’t have been nicer. Having followed her blog for a while I knew she would be. I’m looking forward to reading her article when she completes it and will most likely share a link to it here so you can read it too.

Talking on Friday felt like the start of the idling process, it kicked off a period of just kind of reflecting and reviewing for myself how I’ve come to be here, at this point, now. This was followed by a weekend filled with N and me activities which left little time for me to be me or ruminate on being me or whatever.

Tuesday should have seen me in session with Freud, but I canceled. I haven’t yet decided what I think of my reason for canceling. I waver between feeling justified and feeling that I was weaseling out of an uncomfortable situation. The fact of the matter is that instead of meeting with Freud I met with my pastor, not in any therapeutic sort of way, but to discuss adult education matters within the church. We had been trying to schedule a time to have lunch to have this discussion for about three weeks. Tuesday worked for the pastor but it conflicted with my appointment with Freud. Rather than postpone our meeting further I canceled Freud in order to have lunch with the pastor. At this point, it is what it is so I’m not giving it much further thought but will just move forward with no intent of canceling future appointments with Freud.

For right now, I’m living the words of Scarlett O’Hara:

I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow.

After all... tomorrow is another day.