Bury all your secrets in my skin
Come away with innocence, and leave me with my sins
The air around me still feels like a cage
And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage again

So if you love me, let me go.
And run away before I know.
My heart is just too dark to care.
I can’t destroy what isn’t there.
Deliver me into my fate, if I’m alone I cannot hate
I don’t deserve to have you
My smile was taken long ago, if I can change I hope I never know

I still press your letters to my lips
And cherish them in parts of me that savor every kiss
I couldn’t face a life without your light
But all of that was ripped apart, when you refused to fight

So save your breath, I will not care.
I think I made it very clear.
You couldn’t hate enough to love.
Is that supposed to be enough?
I only wish you weren’t my friend.
Then I could hurt you in the end.
I never claimed to be a saint
My own was banished long ago, it took the death of hope to let you go

So break yourself against my stones
And spit your pity in my soul
You never needed any help
You sold me out to save yourself
And I won’t listen to your shame
You ran away, you’re all the same

Angels lie to keep control
My love was punished long ago
If you still care, don’t ever let me know
If you still care, don’t ever let me know

Snuff lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

At the end of the video she says something I said a few weeks before…
“I want you to promise you will NEVER let go.”

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Erasing the Memories

I woke up today feeling better than I have in months. This breakup is a lot easier than the last. But I’ve said that before. It’s a more normal course for me. Or it would be if Lilith wouldn’t have involved herself1. At this point it’s not about missing Sam anymore.

I realized last night that I’m done missing him. I wish him well and I hope he gets the help he really needs. I will never regret knowing him. I don’t give a flying fuck about anyone else’s opinion of that. “It’s his fault. You should hate him, too.” I am angry with him and the things that I’ve found out recently2, there’s no doubt. But now I know what happened. I don’t need to hear him say it. I don’t need to hear him say anything else now. I was shocked that he’d turned like that, but now I know why. And now I will let all of that go.

But I will torment that bitch until the end of my days.

There’s a process in my brain when someone breaks a connection with me. It doesn’t matter how much I loved this person. It doesn’t matter how much we shared or how deep we were into each other. It doesn’t matter how well we know each other. I have one serious cry – the kind where your eyes are swollen for the entire next day – and then the healing starts. Then I empty my brain. You can see that part here3 it through the written word first. Then the weirdness starts.

The first step is forgetting the voice. I can’t recall what he sounds like. I have a recording, so I can listen to that, of course. But to recall it on my own? Even immediately after listening to the recording I forget the sound. My brain reads the words I’m trying to remember him saying. His voice is missing. My mind has erased it.

Then I forget the eyes. It doesn’t matter how deeply I’ve looked into them or how I’ve stared in an effort to burn the image into my brain. If I try to recall what his face looks like without an image to remind then I will fail. I know the words to describe the color or shape of them, but I can’t see them. If I imagine a face my mind’s eye avoids the area of the face where the eyes should be. There’s nothing there. I’ve erased them from my memory.

Next the entire face goes. When I remember or dream this person (whoever it should be) my mind will avoid the face or… blur it out. I saw a Buffy episode that had a monster with a similar face of what the people in my mind look like. Again, I can describe them with words, but I can’t see what I’m describing.

Then the memories become choppy and segmented. If I were to imagine him from head to toe I wouldn’t be able to do as a whole. I can see a hand, an ear, the stubble on his chin. I can see his weird toes, his calves… The images don’t seem to belong to a single person. They just kind of float there for me to snatch out of the ether.

It’s frustrating for me, but also a blessing. For some I can remember what their touch feels like or their breath going through my hair. But that’s not typical. That happened once when I was standing in my closet and it was almost like a ghost hugged me. That was probably the weirdest memory jolt I’ve had. The weirdness of it is the memory now, though. I can’t actually recall the feeling. Sometimes I will come across something that reminds me of a certain person. When I touch the object I get a sudden rush of feeling. But it’s short and a one-time only thing. My brain adjusts and plugs up the hole that memory may have leaked from. I liken it to the pain of childbirth. I can describe what that feels like but can’t recall the actual feeling of the pain. I’ve read that is a mechanism in place so that women won’t avoid having babies4.

I explained to my counselor that I will forget what he looks like in 2 weeks. She seemed a little taken aback. I’d assumed it was a relatively common thing. “Out of sight; out of mind” as the saying goes. That’s me, basically. She told me that’s a survival mechanism I probably honed from the time I was a child. I had to do it to survive. I asked her if I can fix it. I didn’t want to forget the way his voice vibrated when he called for me in the morning. I didn’t want to forget that growl he does. I didn’t want to forget the beauty of his eyes5. She didn’t offer anything other than “you need to find a way to connect more easily with more people”. Pshaw. That wasn’t the least bit helpful.

So, I tried to fix that. And I failed. There is no stopping my brain from doing what it’s been honed to do forever. I can’t recall his face without looking at a picture. I can remember what it felt like to lie with him, but his voice? Gone. I look at his pictures, but they don’t stick when I shut the app. It’s not because I didn’t love him. Don’t get it twisted6. But I’ve subconsciously released myself from… missing him.

I can’t guarantee that I’d even recognize him if I saw him right now. Forgetting faces is frustrating. I’ve been there with other people. The last time I saw the love of my life I didn’t even recognize him. He had to tell me who he was. I have no pictures of him to remind me. I remember that I really loved him and why I really loved him. Again, I can describe it in words. But I can’t remember the feeling of being in love with him. I know I’ve never loved anyone else the same7. I want to believe that part of my memory is just walled up so tight even I can’t get to it – as opposed to it being gone forever.

I don’t much care who reads this or what their opinion is on the matter. I’m genuinely bothered that my memories just kind of evaporate. Overnight almost. After a while I completely forget what it felt like to be in love with someone – though I can describe it with words. That’s part of what I meant with “The Hollow”. I know that it happened on a logical level. I know because I do have the bare-bones memory that it actually happened. I don’t have the emotional memory of any of it. Not when I’ve decided it’s time to let go. I’ve packed it all away. Except the parts that caused the severance. That won’t go away. And that is why I don’t get back with my exes if we’ve been apart for a good length of time: I forget what it felt like to love that person. I also become friends with exes because I can’t recall the feeling of hurt – just that I got hurt and how. Not the feeling of it.

Anyway, the way she described what I was doing to me leads me to believe that it’s not common. That someone can really remember their loved ones faces well enough to count the freckles on their nose. How though? I told her that I’d forget his face in 2 weeks. She looked shocked. Unfortunately, I haven’t seen her since as she’s been out of town. She seems to think there’s something in me that really isn’t there. That’s kind of sad. When I tell her I was right I wonder what she will say.

Yes, I keep pictures of all the people who are involved in my life because I need to be able to visualize them. If they’ve not been around in a while then I begin to erase them. It does not matter who the person is. It’s all part of my curse. It tortures me. Because I want those good memories. I want to reach back into my past and pull up the good stuff. I can’t do that without visual or audio aids. I can watch that video of Lucifer and I and remember that I had a great time. I smile when I watch it. In my mind I have separated those memories away from the horrible ones I have. I like to focus on the bad ones in an effort to heal8. I can do the same with Sam or TheMan. I can remember that moment for the length of time it takes to watch that video. My brain puts it away after that.

So that’s where I’m at today. I don’t really even care much about the Lilith at the moment. She and her co-conspirator are annoyances on the peripheral of my life – Sam isn’t even part of that. I’ll always know why I can’t stand her. Eventually it won’t even matter. I’ve already begun moving her out of my head. I’ll never know how well or bad any of them are doing. I won’t care. I don’t stalk or circumvent blocks or drive by anyone’s house. I refuse to allow myself to do that crazy shit. I won’t allow more wounds to my psyche before these ones have scarred over. I know she will continue to hurt Sam with the words that I write here, but he also had the choice of finding out for himself when we were together9. He had the choice of talking to me about anything she and that other person told him. He chose their lies over my truth. And that’s that. Good riddance, I guess.

I’m glad it didn’t take as long as with Lucifer, though. Holy shitballs, I don’t have that much time in my life. Once again, as a reminder, my relationship with Lucifer was incredibly damaging. It was likened to an addiction. I had to detox from him and get him out of my system before I could even give Sam a chance. I remind myself what he did to me so that when I see the signs again I can act10. I just remind myself that I’ve been here before and I’m still alive and kicking. Sam’s friends helped me realize that I don’t have any more time for him either. That door that I opened has been closed to him forever.

I’m broken, yes. Lucifer took what I had to give, burned it to ashes, set the ashes back on fire and then pissed on those ashes. Yes, I’m recovering from that. Sam didn’t do all that – though he was digging the triangulation. I didn’t allow it to happen. Not this time and never again.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. That one has a long life of misery and internal torment to which to look forward. I should feel bad for her, but I hope she suffers for a very long time. []
  2. My suspicions that have all been confirmed. []
  3. I used to do it in a private journal that I’d eventually burn. My deepest thoughts still go into a journal though. Either way, I process []
  4. Silly scientists. We’ve found ways around that. []
  5. Which is funny because he and I have the same color eyes. []
  6. Lilith, if you read this, I hope you choke. []
  7. I was young. We were hot and heavy and dangerous. But he knew me. He knew my thoughts, he could read my face and, yes, he could finish my sentences. We loved the same things. We were inseparable until we separated. []
  8. And, with Lucifer, completely forget him forever. []
  9. I will not stop blogging. Fuck them. If they don’t like what’s being said then too fucking bad. There’s the x to close the window []
  10. As I did when Sam did his thing. I saw the signs and I couldn’t ignore them any longer. I acted in my own best interest for once. Survival mode kicked in and, well, it was different this time. []

So This Happened

I have a funny story. Well, kind of funny and weird. Usually I’d say ‘oh, this is for sure a sign from the gods’ but I’m not so faithful anymore. It was a hilarious coincidence.

So, I’m minding my own business at the Devil’s Own Box Store1, talking on my phone when BAM! She walks around the corner. I knew immediately who she was, even though we’d never met. And she very obviously recognized me. Her eyes must’ve gotten as big as mine before she bowed her head and moved around me. I’m still trying to remind myself that there was no sign. But what a fucking coincidence.

So, when Lucifer and I were together he had a particularly upset member of his harem. This chick hated me with a passion2. I only know this because she made it known. I don’t know if she was trying to intimidate me or what. It didn’t work. I was not at all impressed back then.

Lucifer showed me her pictures and told me a funny story about how she was deathly afraid of raccoons. I love raccoons, so this was hilarious to me. She’s a city chick and actual wild animals can be very, very scary. But the motherfucker was in a tree outside of his window. That story and some bits about what she did for a living were all I really knew about her. He did tell me she was well put-together and very beautiful in person. That was nice3 and I didn’t even give a shit. By then I was all about hating Horseface and I can only hate one “other woman” at a time.

He did ask me if I’d like a threesome with her once. We both declined his invitation.

Now, Lucifer and I had rules about this sort of thing. I was never to know nor be approached by any other woman he’s messing with. He was to keep these women in check and they should never, ever know who I am. On his part he wanted to know when I was seeing other people4. This chick decided to comment on a post in which I’d tagged him. I didn’t respond to her. Instead I showed him my phone and he knew just what to do.

She never communicated with me again.

Anyway, that’s neither here nor there. Just some backstory. So, I’m just standing in the aisle, almost nose-to-nose with this chick, and I notice something. She’s not wearing makeup and she looks considerably older than in her facebook photos (surprise, surprise). She looked like an average 30-something woman with no makeup on, really. For my part, I was in the same boat. Hair pulled up, no makeup – just here for some floor cleaner, folks. I knew I looked a right mess. I cannot hide my thoughts, so I’m sure she was quite aware that I was giving her the once over. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I was standing there googly-eyed with my mouth open. Dur.

Now, the question as to why she was at my Walmart… She doesn’t live down here. She’s got about 3 Walmarts between here and there. So I immediately wondered why she was in my little corner of BFE. Then another lady caught up with. This woman was obviously her mother and she very obviously belongs down here. Ahhh. Ok then. Well, now I know.

I can see why he’d choose her though. She’s not ugly. And with makeup she’s stunning, I guess. Good for him.

Here’s where my idiot mind went: I’ve been thinking about Lucifer a lot lately. Sure, it’s generally in connection with my horrid love life overall and Sam particularly, but I’m having good thoughts about him. Nah, man. Nope. Take back the power of your brain, JJ. Anyway, I happened upon a video of him and I together in an account I’d forgotten5. And now I’ve seen another member of the harem from when I was a part of said harem.

What’s going on right now? What the actual fuck is going on right now. First I have a weirdo stalker6 and now I’m seeing blasts from my past with Lucifer. I mean, I really shouldn’t see his people. They’re far enough away that I should probably only run into people who knew him when we were a couple. That’s it. And this woman? This particular woman was a part of my life, but on the edges. We were connected by one person. Now, he’s far away from either of us. How fucking funny is that?

I’m curious as to her thought process when she recognized me. She knew right away. Right away. The two of us had never met in person so I know it’s because Lucifer showed her my pictures. She was obviously taken aback. Will she tell him she saw me? They’re still friends as far as I know, but who knows for sure.

Honestly, Lucifer had some good taste in women. Not going to lie. Suave motherfucker had a beautiful lineup. Even Horseface is pretty in her own horse-faced way. He didn’t mess with skanks openly. And he never spoke bad of any of the women. Horseface was a good mom, though she was untreated bipolar7. This one is a hard worker with a smashing body. There was this other one who had a pretty singing voice. Really, I think the only one he even said a crass word about was his primary supply. He used the fact that she withheld visitation as a way to garner my sympathy. As soon as he saw how passionately opposed to that bullshit I was, well, he amped it up a bit. Ultimately, though, even she is not horrible. She’s got a good life – job, car, her own place. All of us were chosen for that particular list.

At any rate, he told me once that he didn’t date unattractive or stupid women8). He told me the problems in this relationship or that one were his fault. He made sure to be as sympathetic as possible. Like I said before, when we were out together he was very proud to claim me. Hugs, hand-holding, kissing. Oh, how little I realized back then.

This is another way that Sam and he are different. Sam has told me some pretty disgusting things about his past girlfriends. As if he was proud of how skanky they were and how bad they let him treat them. He told me his baby’s mother used to crawl in through his bedroom window to come see him because he was too ashamed to let anyone see her come through the front door. He told me stories. Anyway, all of his ex-girlfriend stories are really bad. But here’s the thing about that. It changed the way I looked at him. I asked him once “You love women with daddy issues who will bow to your every whim. They’re all skanks. What’s that say about you and me?”

No answer. I didn’t elaborate and it probably didn’t click with him. Every time he dogged his exes in the manner that he did made me wonder about him and why he was with me. I don’t like toxic Lilith9 for good reasons. The other one… that one I’m more sympathetic toward. But he told me shit she did too. I have opinions about all of it. Most of them to do with his own choice in who to be with.

Fun fact: I will never fuck any of his friends. I won’t allow him to pass me around. I won’t be caught dead going from fucking him to fucking someone else without even a shower between. How disgusting is that? Learn to use a condom for fuck’s sake. And have some self-respect. Also? He could actually take me out in public and be proud – as old as I am. He could actually trust me. Ahem

So, anyway, that happened and I’m all “hmm, so weird”. I wonder how long before I get an email “Hey, been thinking a lot about you lately…” I hate him with a passion, but I’d hook up. No lie.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. WalMart []
  2. Lucifer was no doubt triangulating with her as well. []
  3. He was never one to talk bad about anyone he was with. We were a reflection of him and if he talked bad about us then it would look bad on him. He only chose a certain type of woman. The kind that was “undercover sexy” – meaning we didn’t advertise our goods for the entire world to see. Except this one. It was her job. []
  4. Until I actually told him. Then that rule changed with the quickness. []
  5. Deleting other stuff. But that video makes me smile. I remember that night. It was fantabulous. []
  6. She makes it easy. []
  7. She is probably suffering from dealing with his shit. []
  8. All of us are stupid to a degree. We all share him in common. []
  9. She came into my driveway and tried to have sex with my man. C’mon, now. And now she’s watching everything I write like it’s fucking gospel. Come the fuck on, now. []

Today Was a Good Day

I do have some good news, but went off on a tangent here. I didn’t want to mix that up with this. I had a really good day. I didn’t think about him until he was brought up at the end there. Then I was all offended because does anyone really pay attention?

Anyway, I woke up this morning and decided to edit and publish the children’s book my mother wrote when I was a small child. I decided this is the project I need to do. It’s a wonderful story. She told us the story as she wrote it1. I remember sitting on the porch of our house in Columbus and just being amazed. She was a wonderful story-teller when I was young. This story she just happened to write down and flesh out.

We used to beg her to submit it to a publisher, but she refused. She was afraid of rejection. When I was young and trying to write she was insanely jealous. Man… But that was a different woman than the one I’m discussing now. The same mother, but different mindsets. She only had the one copy and treasured it forever. She used to dream of being published – but was too afraid of critics.

Other Sis made bound copies of the book and gave one to each of us2. I want to have it published.

That’s what I was doing today when I should’ve been working. I was copying her book onto my computer and telling everyone all of the wonderful stories my mother used tell us. This project is incredibly therapeutic. Actually, writing by itself is great for me right now. I’m going to rewrite all of her book then illustrate it myself. Then I’ll set to work to getting it edited and published. I don’t know if I even care if I get it published correctly. Just rewriting it is making me feel better. I think this may be my mother’s way of helping me from beyond the grave.

The lady I work with is going to introduce me to a family friend. He’s supposedly doing ok for himself and not bad looking. Also he’s closer to my age3. I was a little irritated by that last part, but I let it slide. I agreed to meet him. I doubt very much that I’ll want to spend much time with him if I even like him at all. Who knows? But I’m not passing up an opportunity just to see. I haven’t so much as flirted with anyone since Sam has been gone. I’m ready for the ego boost.

Then I got home and found my good earrings in my sister’s bedroom. Proof. That’s all I need.

See? A good day. I needed one of those.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Much like JK Rowling and how she came up with Harry Potter. []
  2. She kept the original, of course. []
  3. No, I didn’t want Sam for sex. []

Baby’s mama drama

I have never had to deal with side chicks so much in my life as I have in the last year. First it was TheMan and his Pokémon then MyDude and his baby’s mom and now…. another baby’s mom.

These last 2 refuse to let their children’s fathers see their child unless the father is in a romantic relationship with them. If not in a relationship with them then GOD FORBID he be in a new (definitely better) relationship.

I don’t understand that mindset. My mother did that with us – though not with our father. She was more along the lines of no family members were allowed to see us when she was in a mood. She didn’t speak to my aunt for 2 years because my aunt took us after our mother attempted suicide in front of us. Maybe if we’d have had access to more normal family… But that’s not how that worked out.

We were hurt by my mother’s selfishness. None of us are ok. Granted, I never needed to be around my father, but what about a grandmother? Imagine if a father actually wants to see his child and said child’s mother decided “Nope. If I can’t have you then you can’t see your kid.” Welp, imagine no further.

I’m exhausted from all of this nonsense. I’m exhausted from being the “bigger person”. I’m exhausted from my life being interrupted to deal with women who aren’t happy unless they have all the toys. When can I let the bitch out?

Of course, the babies’ mamas use me against the fathers, so I’m to shut my face if I want him to see his child. I’m to accept continuously bloody shins or I just don’t care. Can’t I see how much damage I’m doing?

There’s rarely a court order in this scenario and there’s not one now. “Go assert your rights “, I say “go to court.” That’s absurd, though. So much easier for me to shut up and pretend I’m not in any way involved. It hurts me,.of course, but ultimately it’s the kids who are hurt. It’s not just a quaint expression. I’m proof.

I had this elsewhere, but thought I could flesh it out more on here. Or at least make sense about it in my head. The only thing that makes sense at the end of this is why I can’t stand this shit.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Life is a Little Brighter Now

A helluva lot has changed in the past year. So much. Of course, it’s not a whole lot to people who don’t live my life, but still…

I’m finally in my new house and I really like it. I don’t like the fact that it’s not mine but I like how cozy and bright it is. My family loves it. We’re doing ok here so far1. It’s smaller than my old house in only one aspect, but it seems so much bigger.

We have a new cat. His name is Mews. Lil’lady named him after a cat on “Stranger Things 2”. It surprisingly fits him. He’s a beggar cat and cries for whatever you’re eating. Will he eat it if you offer? That’s up in the air. He’s particular and only cares if you pay him attention. He’s an orange tabby with a huge circle on his side. And he’s fun. Spooky Jim tries to hump him on a regular basis.

Aside: Why does my little dog prefer the love of male cats? It’s so strange.

I have a new dude. I’ve known him for a while and maybe I’ll tell you who he is eventually. But for now we’re just getting used to each other romantically. He’s very different from the ex-husband and ex-boyfriend in that he isreally into me. I like that. A lot. I need it right now. And I’m starting to feel a certain way toward him as well. Not the way I felt about MyDude, but that motherfucker worked my head and I was in a bad spot when we were together. This new one sometimes asks about MyDude. I don’t like to talk about him at all. But he says “I don’t give a fuck about the husband. He’s inconsequential. The other guy though… Fuck him.” Then he asks about our relationship. I shut that shit down with a quickness. I don’t want to tell him how I felt for MyDude or what he looks like or why we broke up. I don’t want to talk about any of it with him. Mostly because I don’t feel for him that same way. I don’t feel that intensity for him. I just enjoy his company and if he decided to stop talking to me today it wouldn’t bother me in the least. I don’t want him to know that, because it would probably break his heart. He loves me. I know it and have known it for a months. I decided to give it a go after I’d moved and begun this new chapter of my life. I’m not ready to invest too much in him yet. I have a bad picker, according to my friend. So, I’m just enjoying the now with this guy. He’s very sweet, attentive and understanding. And he makes me laugh so much. I wish I’d have given him the chance instead of the that demon, MyDude. Pffft. Live and learn, I guess. So far, I’m happy with him. I’m happy to let him spoil me. When he leaves I’ll still have that.

My family is coming back into my life – slowly but surely. I’m close with my sister and aunt again. I’m open to hanging out and having coffee. There isn’t a rude man at my back making everyone uncomfortable anymore. Of course, they all tell me now that they couldn’t stand him and that he made everything awkward. I have no idea if they’re serious about that, but it annoys the shit out of me if it’s true. He isolated me, sure, but they didn’t make an effort. I didn’t make an effort because they didn’t. It was a fucked up cycle and now everyone is all “well, it’s TheMan’s fault”. Shut all the way up. It was a team effort. 100% of those people thought I was a major fuckup before I got married and none of them even bothered to tell me when my mother had her first stroke, when my great-grandmother was in a nursing home, when my cousin came back for a visit from Germany, let me know there was a family get-together with an aunt I hadn’t seen in years…etc and so on. They didn’t include me before or during my marriage. But now I’m older and seem to have my shit together. They like that. Or they’re just older and realize that maybe – just maybe – I’m not a bad person. But I have more.

I have a sister from my father that I haven’t seen since she was a baby. She’s about 10 years younger than I am. We’ve lived in the same town for years, but have never made contact. I’m the bad sheep, you see, and everyone likes to tell everyone else how terrible I am. People sometimes are genuinely surprised that I’m not a devil spawn when they get around to meeting me. It visibly throws them off. I’ve been very aware of that for years and would rather avoid that whole getting to know a random family member. At any rate, she contacted me last night. Just out of the blue. She says “My mom and I used to see you when you worked at this place. My name is [redacted].” Well, of course, I knew her name as soon as I saw it pop up in messenger. I didn’t know she was my sister until then, though. I am fucking floored. We exchanged some boring pleasantries and promised each other we’d get together for coffee. She’s got 3 absolutely gorgeous girls who have never met me. She comes from the conservative side of the family2 and they’ve all basically disowned me because I had a black child. At any rate, there are a million reasons why we’ve never connected. Not a single one of them good. And I don’t know if we can have a good relationship now because I am who I am and I refuse to change ever again. I’m wild, cuss too much and am not afraid of being proud of my LGBT child. This makes a lot of people in my area very uneasy. I think that will pose a problem for her. She’s not used to wild things like me. I would have watered myself down a year ago. I won’t do that now. I do want to get to know her, though. I’m very excited. She’s my sister. It’s crazy how this all happened. At least I won’t die without knowing her and her kids at least a little bit.

My ex- mother-in-law has determined that she’d rather have a relationship with me than with her own son. How insane is that? Millie and I have never in all these years seen eye-to-eye, but she wants to help and get me back on my feet. She’s all about making sure Lil’lady and I are ok. She says her son is a dirtbag like his dad. I LOL. WTF is actually going on here? It makes zero sense to me. I don’t trust her, but am accepting her as she comes. I’m not harboring ill-will toward her anymore. Our lives have both been upended recently. I think that’s sort of created an awkward bond. I’m too old to hold a grudge3 so here we are. How crazy is that? I’m lucky I think. Very lucky.

I don’t really have anything to complain about and I’m not really. I mention the past and the hard feelings because it explains the weirdness of right now. I don’t know how to handle people actually giving a fuck about me. I’m overwhelmed. It feels nice, but I’m still waiting for it to all be snatched away.  I’m cautious, but feeling good. Maybe – just maybe– things will actually work out for me for once. Maybe I can get through this without sabotaging everything. I have never wanted anything more than this right now. It’s nice.


I’ll eventually fix my damned database and get those old posts back up. I’m planning on participating in NaNoWriMo this year and part of that (regardless of the rules) is going to be me taking up blogging again.

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Getting used to paying rent again is kind of a challenge considering. []
  2. My father is not so conservative, but my grandfather used to be Amish and my grandmother was very Christian. They are all very judgmental of anyone not exactly like them. []
  3. Also, I suck at it. []

A short story

“She told him she found comfort in the way he looked into her eyes. He never did it again.

He absentmindedly played with a length of her hair as she laid her head on his shoulder. She caught sight of his admiration. The next day she cut her hair boyishly short.

This was how they loved each other.”

I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

Not My Problem

His sister contacted me a couple of days ago. No one has heard from him in over a month, she tells me. It didn’t make sense. I just threw a grenade on the remnants of our relationship two weeks ago. I’d refused his demands about that really important letter and he disappeared from my life.

And apparently everyone else’s life.

I told her I had no idea and the last I heard he’d found a new victim chick in Akron. I wondered how she got my contact information, but I didn’t ask. The situation was already awkward, She asked for this chick’s name. I don’t know. This is almost all third-hand. We don’t speak anymore. I explained that my brother-in-law1 saw him two weeks ago when he picked up his tools from the job site. I began to worry about him. To panic. His sister had gotten the police involved and was contacting (probably) hundreds of people looking for him. He really is missing. I wanted to find out if he was ok.  I was polite to her and offered my help. She thanked me and that was that. My people all had the same thing to say about it: Not your problem.

They’re right. He has some serious issues2 and he very well could be holed up somewhere with a new supply. He may be ghosting – trying to run from all the ways he’s fucked up his life recently. He may be in a flop house with a needle in his arm. Any of that can possibly be true. He is a very sick man and it would very much be in character for him to just disappear like this. He’s mad at his baby’s mom so he’s punishing her. I have little doubt that’s she’s panicking more than I. She has been in his orbit too long. She is still very happy to be his main supply. And disappearing to cause her pain would be something he absolutely would do. I am lucky that I got away from him so soon and there are no children to tie us together. I’m a lot luckier than she is.

I’ve been reading about Narcissistic Personality Disorder. The actual disorder not people who have just never learned humility. There are two kinds of malignant narcissists – overt and covert. When people hear about NPD they assume overt. That’s not the case here. With the help of my therapist, I learned that MyDude is (most probably) a covert narcissist. As I read about it I was re-traumatized. I was shocked. He fit the bill to a tee – grooming, devaluation, triangulating, the traumatic discard, the hoovering. But he wasn’t all bold and brash. He is quiet and always inside of his own head. And he preyed on my need to matter to someone. He saw me vulnerable and, sadly, I put myself right in his path. He played me like a finely tuned instrument. I was an object he sucked dry – and discarded when he could get nothing else from me. There is no difference between me and every other woman in his harem. We were simply supply for his disorder. That was devastating to learn. He was nothing more a drug to me, too. In the end I was simply addicted to the swirl of chemicals in my head. That “connection” that he played and perverted. My counselor explained that I was behaving like a cocaine addict. That was painful to hear, but true.

Everything that I thought was a “sign” of some sort was actually intentionally engineered by him to trigger my desire to matter to someone. I couldn’t stand to see him suffer. But why? It was most certainly pathological. And he made sure it was. He made sure to muddle my fucking brain and warp it to his benefit. And it worked until my cognitive dissonance3 was so painful I could no longer ignore it. I often refer to my logical and emotional selves (as if I sit outside of them) fighting. That made me crazy. I fought against myself and a monster was created. I wanted to hurt him as much as he hurt me. I said and did miserable things to achieve that goal. I saw it, but the compulsion to hurt him overwhelmed me. He was in my head and it drove me around the bend. I still have not recovered. I’m addicted to the chemical mix that he causes in my brain – that’s why I was so sensitive to his touch. Why I needed  just to be physically close to him. I know that now. At the time I had no idea that was even possible. How the fuck is that even possible?!

Covert Narcissists dangle their vulnerability in front of you as bait, just waiting for your good nurturing mothering/fathering instincts to kick in and rescue the poor little lost child they are presenting to you.
As soon as you reach out a helping hand, their jaws snap shut on you.

We fall for the projected idealised image of the person the covert narcissist wishes they could be but knows in their hearts they are not. This is the person they NEED to convince others they are in order to foster narcissistic supply.

Clients would tell me the person was “not my usual type” or “I didnt even find them attractive at first”.
Yes, because they are NOT your type. But they are smart enough to know what you are looking for at the level of your core values and mold themselves to appear to represent that whilst provoking as much sympathy in you for them as they can.

But beneath the mask of a shy, vulnerable and “good person” something far more sinister lurks.

And this what makes covert narcissism so damaging and dangerous: the nature of the disorder is such that you are brainwashed into thinking you are dealing with a human being with a morality, perhaps even a “pillar of the community”.

This is frequently a part of the covert narcissists fantasy: the misunderstood but kind, caring genius/ guru that the foolish world cruelly victimises.

If the target is tricked into believing the FALSE narrative that this person is a vulnerable victim they are left suspecting  that the manipulations, insults, transgressions and abuses they experienced CAN’T be real …right?

Forced into a split reality, one in which the person is as vulnerable and victimised as they wish you to believe and the other in which you see shadowy, fleeting signs of something else entirely :

– a social chameleon who would wear a completely different identity depending on who they were talking to
– a sneaky, underhanded way of operating in the world that ONLY those closest to them ever get a glimpse of
– a person whose actions RARELY match their words!

This leads to crushing feelings of frustrating isolation as you feel like you are the only one on the planet who can see this gaping disparity in the person and it’s impossible to explain to anyone not experiencing the abuse directly. [source]


My ego was hit hard as my cognitive dissonance choked me. I did not understand this while it was happening. I did not see him for what he really is. I did not see. I truly thought we had a connection. I honestly thought he loved me (because he said so, right?). I thought he was just afraid of his feelings and that he also loved her. I kept asking “Why is this happening between him and me? How is he doing this to me?” I know now. Part of me is still holding onto the delusion, but I’m better prepared to fight against that thinking. I know what happened now. I was addicted to those fucking chemicals. I still am a little bit. I’m ashamed of how he worked me. But I need to tell this particular story. My stormy relationship with him really killed any sort of confidence I had when I met him. He stole that from me4.

When his sister contacted me I panicked. I was immediately worried that he was dead. Then, after I explained to her that I didn’t know anything, I got control of myself. I am angry at him for doing this to his sister. And I have no doubt this isn’t the first time. I’m angry that I care and want to help. I’m angry that his nonsensical behavior bothers me at all. He’s not worth it. He’s not my problem. He is broken. Forever. I feel bad for his sister and every other person in his life that loves him.

I’ve lost quite a bit of my spirituality during this entire mess. Everything I’ve held onto since my son died has basically rotted away during this process. Some folks (who share my beliefs) have suggested that this was a lesson for me. Never trust anyone? Never let anyone get close? What the fuck kind of lesson was this? Give me a break. He is broken, empty and basically a demon. That’s no fucking lesson. So, that belief has been expelled. The only reason we came together was sheer dumb luck. Bad for both us. I really can’t blame or credit anything spiritual. It just happened. He just happened. 

Fixing myself after this (because I do see how fucked up I am) has been a challenge. Just taking time to heal has been a challenge. The people in my life don’t understand. So many people jump from relationship to relationship or they have been in the same relationship for decades. They can’t see what I’m doing is ultimately a good thing and will make me better. I’m annoying and too introspective. Whatever. But do I want to risk another relationship like that one? I don’t think I want to take that risk. Seeing what I am capable of has really shocked me. I need that to never happen again. I need to learn to kill those compulsions. I need to learn skills to keep part of me (the devil part) from ever coming out again. I will never be free from that horrible part of me, but I can learn to control it. This isn’t about him and me anymore. This is now about my learning, understanding, and healing.

I hope they find him safe and alive. I do. But I’m not going to help them. This is not my problem.


I like geeky stuff, politics, squirrels and monkeys.

  1. Who got him this great job that, by the way. []
  2. I know I do too. []
  3. and my own pathological illness. []
  4. This relationship wasn’t normal. The breakup wasn’t normal. I am trying to heal instead of jumping into another relationship that may hurt me. I am analyzing myself so that this never happens to me again. []