Why am I so Mean?
I think I often lash out with rudeness because I think it’s going to make me feel better, or superior. Not sure. Maybe it’s just a bad habit I learned from my parents. They could be really sarcastic at times. Well, most times.
I like most sarcastic humour, but sometimes it’s just mean. I was mean to a couple of people today. Afterwards I just felt kinda childish. I wasn’t actually sarcastic to anyone, but my being mean made me think of sarcasm and how it was used in my household growing up.
There were lots of hurtful jabs. Not physical ones, emotional ones. Damn … those hurt and stick around for years. Here I am almost 50 for god sakes and I’m still reacting to the damage.
I feel like my mind is a big bundle of twisted wires. They all work fine, I guess, but it would be nice to tidy them up a bit so they didn’t cause harm to anyone.
I don’t do well with strong emotions. Strong feelings. I either avoid them or react to them in harmful ways. Either harmful to myself or to others … or both. And by harmful I mean hurtful. I can be mean.
It’s been a stressful week at work, and while I think most people are handling all the stress well I find that living alone gives me a bit of a disadvantage at times like these. I just don’t have anyone to vent with after work nor do I have anyone who can be on my side. Just someone who can say, “yeah, yeah, I know what you mean…you’re right…you’re doing a good job” … or whatever. I just don’t have support in that way from anyone. Living by yourself is hard at times. But that’s a whole other can of worms. I’m not really looking for a relationship – the only thing I miss about living with a man is that feeling that someone in this big world is on my side. I miss being that for someone else too. But I don’t really miss anything else about a relationship and to be honest, most men I’ve met and been involved with since my divorce could care less about that kind of intimacy.
And I know not all couples talk about this kind of stuff – many keep work and home separate. But even in that situation, or a situation where someone just has kids and no partner, it’s still easier for them I think because at least they have things outside of work that keep them busy and occupied. They have responsibilities that I don’t have so they don’t really have time to dwell on stuff. I don’t have that, and my mind isn’t disciplined enough not to think about it. I really have nothing else going on in my life. And don’t get me wrong, I know the grass isn’t always greener on the other side, I was married for quite a long time … it’s just that even in retrospect I can see that it was easier to deal with work stress when I wasn’t completely alone.
Anyway … that was just a mind ramble. I’m just rambling on and on. Probably because I don’t have anyone else to talk to.
Whatever. The reality is I was mean to a few people today and it was my way of lashing out and trying to gain control, I guess. But it didn’t have the desired results, never does. I need to learn to react in a more productive way.
The thing is, it feels so good to be mean sometimes. You know, in that moment when you’re saying something mean, there’s a weird exhilaration. Of course it doesn’t last long and what you’re left with is an even bigger mess then what you started with.
Voice Mail Lost
It’s weird but I had been saving a couple of voice mail left by a man I was involved with several years ago. The other weird thing is I hadn’t listened to them for almost 3 years, but I just kept saving them.
Anyway, earlier today I accidentally deleted them and I’m a little mad about that … or sad. Not sure. Maybe both. But not sure why, like I said I haven’t even listened to them for 3 years. I think I just wanted to keep them as a memory. Just more proof that I like to save stuff. I don’t like getting rid of stuff, even voice mail from old lovers. Not that he was old, lol. You know what I mean.
Oh dear.
Maybe it’s a good thing. I mean I haven’t seen him since 2006. And I wasn’t in love with him. To be honest, I didn’t even know him that well nor him me. It was an affair. Made me feel alive at the time. Not sure what I was holding on to by keeping the messages. Maybe I just liked having a man’s voice there – but I never listened to them. Not sure what keeping them meant to me to be honest.
I just really wish I hadn’t deleted them.
Calmer … but Still Pissed
I’m feeling a bit calmer than I was in my previous post, but I’m still mad.
Well I’m a lot of thngs .. mad, angry, pissed, sad, alone, fed-up, broken-down, defeated. Pissed.
My boss … let me try to sort this out in my own mind. The reality is she is like 2 differnt people. She’s either extremely empathtic – to the point where she’d make a great therapist. Or she’s callous – to the point that she scares me.
The 2nd personality doesn’t show itself very often but the more I get to know her the more I can see she’s battling it. I can understand that. I get it. I admit I have a similar side to my personality. She’d never admit that.
We’ve had some very serious conversations about mental health and our backgrounds, but she really doesn’t see that side of her – or she doesn’t admit it. I saw her one time freak out at her husband to the point that I was nervous and embarassed. It really unnerved me and left me feeling scared.
Scared. That’s a weird word that I keep using when I describe that nasty side of her. It kind of reminds me of how my mother would freak out when I was a kid. But she didn’t behave that way when we got older. When we were kids I’m sure lots of times she was overwhelmed and when she was it came out as this really scary woman! But also, I was a kid, and she was my otherwise nice mother, so it all seemed even that more scary.
It’s weird how this woman can remind me a bit of my mother in that context. I think it does make me revert to that child … feeling scared. So is it my boss or is it me who’s the problem here?
The thing is – my mother never behaved like that in public and never behaved like that when we got older. So I don’t get why this woman would be like that in the workplace. Thank god she doesn’t have kids. The other thing is, ultimately I ended up having a good relationship with my mother … so I don’t think it’s weird left-over feelings for her that’s making me react this way. I think that the boss is just a really troubled person and a very manipulative one as well. She’s the type that has to be a martyr. I hate that. My mother was never that so there’s no comparison to be made there.
The boss is also extremely religious to the point that it can become obnoxious, especially for someone like me who doesn’t believe in any of that crap – with all due respect to those who do believe. I get fed-up with people who act all high & mighty and then behave horribly. And again, it’s the martyr thing that always comes up with her. It gets mighty boring mighty fast, I gotta say.
Anyway, regardless of all the psycho drama in my head – she’s got enough psycho drama for the 2 of us. I never behave like that in public. Rarely do in private. It’s just too bad that none of her bosses ever really see the full extent of her behaviour. They’d be concerned I’m sure. She wasn’t at all stable today.
As for family, they’re always telling me how I’m not alone, yada, yada. That’s only true when it’s convenient for them. I mean, what am I doing tomorrow – it’s Canada Day, a holiday, and since most of them are out of town on vacation or home and have decided not to do anything – then I’m going to be alone. No one ever includes me in their activities unless they’re having a family get-together, and then I’m part of the family. They don’t get it.
You know, when I had a husband and a house and a nice yard with a pool I always invited everyone – not that they came. My parents stayed at another siblings home – one where they didn’t have a guest room, like my house did. So why was that? Basically it was because they’d rather not spend time with me given the choice. Pretty simple to see that.
So it’s like the chicken and the egg. Which comes first – do people not want to be around me because I they don’t like me or am I not enjoyable to be around because I know people don’t want to be around me. Whatever. Who cares at this point in my life.
And sure, it’s not like I can’t go out and do something on my own, but to be honest – after 15 years of doing that, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being the one who can live on her own, be independent, go out to events or whatever alone because that’s just what I did.
I’m sick of it.
I also know I’ll never meet someone, not at my of stage life. I’m almost 50 and look at all the fucking bagage I have. There’s no way I can get my shit together at this point in my life to find someone. And if I did get my shit together … like I’m going to be able to find some shit-free man who also has his life together. Highly unlikely.
I knew this when I was in my 30s and everyone told me I was wrong. But I was right. I’m not the kind of woman men want – regardless of all the kind things people say to me or about me. The reality is I’m fat and men don’t want fat women – I’m not saying all men are shallow and I’m not saying men don’t have fat wives that they love, but the majority of them loved them before they became fat. I’m not in that situation. There’s no way a man would chose me over a thin woman given that we have the same personality traits. No way.
I’m completely and totally damaged goods in that department and I know it. It’s hard to deal with but the reality is I’m alone now, have been for 15 years and will be for the rest of my life and whatever I say to make myself feel better about that – it just isn’t easy. It’s not easy being alone.
Having said all that – I do remember being married and being in a relationship and I know that’s not all it’s cracked up to be either. But considering all the factors one thing is for sure – it’s really nice to have someone on your side. Someone who understand you after a bad day. Having no one day after day after day after day … it’s really, really hard.
It wears ya down after a while. It’s been 15 years. That’s a long time to have to keep lifting up my spirits on my own. That’s a long time to be my own cheerleader. I’ve been doing it but the past few years I’ve become so beaten down.
And yes, I did have a few sexual relationships in the past 15 years, but that’s all they were – not emotional relationships. The men didn’t even really know me. The last man I was involved with – it was just sex. So yes, there are men who do find me attractive or who will have sex with me, whatever. Sex is easy to get – real connection like an emotional connection, damn – that’s so rare and much harder to find so I’ve given up. It’s just not going to happen. So day by day I fade away.
Last year was like a fucking fog. I hibernated in this fucking apartment and just kinda died a little. It’s days like this that remind me how exhausted I really am. To the outside world I’m more together – but I have to say over the past few years it’s been harder to keep up that veneer. Even I can see that it’s cracking. I fear soon everyone will be able to see what’s really inside – god help me. Not that I believe in god – but whatever. When that day comes they’ll be loading me in to a looney van.
I really am finding it hard to keep up appearances. I’ve been worn down. Worn down. A lifetime of missed opportunities and regrets. A life that’s been passed by. I can’t seem to grab hold of life to live it again. It’s pretty terrifying, actually.
Anyway – all just my thoughts … trying to get them out of my fucking head. All in the hopes that I’ll have some peace tonight – but I doubt it. I hate my life.
I don’t know what’s worse. Knowing and admitting that I hate my life. Or living like I have been for the past few years where I just ignore those thoughts.
I’m really not sure at this point which is worse.
The Ex
It’s been a rough day. Thoughts of my ex are running through my head and they’re pissing me off.
I ran across some stuff on the net where it talks about how wonderful he is at his job, about awards he’s won, about all the fabulous things he’s done in the past 15 years. Yada, yada. And when I say I “ran across” it I mean I was searching for it in the wee hours of the morning because I couldn’t sleep.
Anyway, there’s a part of me that thinks it’s great that he’s doing well, that he’s doing good work helping others and that he’s enjoying the work he does.
The other part of me is angry. I’m pissed that he’s accmplished stuff in the past 15 years and I haven’t. How come my life stalled and his flourished? Is all that stuff he thought about me true? Was I just some kind of dead-weight in his life? He never actually said those words, but that’s how I feel now.
He was never happy with me. He never loved me. I’m not sure he was ever happy unless he was getting validation from other people … people telling him how wonderful he was. He loved that. I guess that’s what has encouraged him to do well and reach the top of his profession.
I hate that he owns a house, a new car, has a great profession, makes good money, has a pension, life insurance, savings, paid holidays, and on and on. All those things that I no longer have. All those things that I lost about 15 years ago when I left my job of 13 years, my pension, my security to follow him to a new city.
Now I fight pay day to pay day. I live in a crappy little apartment and my 17 year old car is about to die any day now. I don’t have a good paying job, I don’t have a pension, I don’t get paid sick days or paid holidays, I have no savings, can’t get insurance. It makes me so mad. It infuriates me.
So why am I mad and who am I really mad at?
I dunno. I’m probably a little bit mad at him and at me. Maybe it’s easier to focus my anger at him. Mostly at times like this I really hate him and I’m angry that after our divorce I ended up in poverty. I know I’m responsible for that as I’m the one who made many dumb decisions, but at the same time, we had a plan and he pulled out of that plan mid way. Eventhough we weren’t happy I stuck it out and did what I was supposed to do as a partner in the marriage – he didn’t. He looked elsewhere and “fell in love”. He took all that he had and went on and prospered. I was left behind dazed and hurt and spiraled down to a place where I wasn’t able to even think let alone make decisions.
Who’s fault is that? I dunno. Mine, I guess.
Doesn’t make how I feel now any easier.
The thing is, he had someone after the separation and divorce to lean on. He had “her”. He was “in love” and felt invincible. He could go on and do good, climb the ladder of his profession with her there by his side helping him all the way – and they were so in love how could they fail? It’s like a romantic novel.
Where was I? I was on the floor devastated. I was left behind thrown away like a piece of fucking garbage. Much like the fucking garbage I now collect. It’s fucking twisted.
I was a nice person back then. I guess I’m still nice now, but back then I really was. I was so sweet, and pretty and everyone liked me. I had lots of friends and did well at work and participated in a lot of things.
I didn’t deserve what he did to me.
It’s not like I was a mean or horrible person. Not that a mean or horrible person deserves to have life pulled out from under them, but still…I really always tried to be so nice.
I guess I was shocked that anyone would do something so mean to me. Everyone was always so nice to me.
It really hurt.
It still hurts.
And now all I can do is sit here and be angry and hurt and cry.
Big deal, life’s not fair. Like I’m the only person on the planet to know that.
Well, actually right now I don’t care about anyone else. All I know is that I’m really hurt. I’m really sad. And I don’t know what to do about it. Mostly, I just wish I could stop crying.
I was talking to someone about this today. Someone who knew me then and knows me now. I’ve changed so much. She asked me how I think I’ve changed and I said, “I’ve given up on life” and that made me cry.
She agreed. She agreed that I have given up on life and she wished she could do something to make me see things differently because she thinks I have so much potential.
I don’t see it though.
I don’t see the potential. I just see the tears.
Typing, Thinking, Feeling – Yikes
Had an interesting night. It’s always interesting when I’m out interacting with others, mostly because I have to lie all the time. I’m good at it. On my way home I was in a good mood for the most part. I had to stop for groceries – bought only good stuff. Instead of chips for snacking I bought baby carrots – which I actually like so I don’t know why I don’t buy them more often.
I was enjoying the music on the drive home, an old Commodores love song from the 80s came on. I was letting myself fantasize about love. I have several make-believe relationships in my head … and as I was enjoying the reverie all of a sudden I realized I’ve never had love like that and probably never will.
I remembered back to when that song was popular I was a young woman, 20 or 21. I was in love with a married man at work. It was a huge crush. We never even kissed. We danced once at an office party. I was actually dating or engaged at the time – can’t remember the time-line. Not to mention I was a virgin. That was the stupidest mistake of my life. I hate when I hear adult women telling their daughters to remain virgins until they marry, especially when they never did that themselves. Trust me – it’s no way to go into marriage. It’s a HUGE mistake. HUGE.
I understand telling young girls that, but by the time they’re 18 and older I think it’s the wrong message because it basically sets up your daughter to have a whole bunch of hang ups. Ultimately she’ll probably never have a healthy sex life and why would you deny her that? I don’t get it, unless they have their own weird hangups. Ultimately I guess I have no idea because I don’t have kids, but I think telling your daughter to wait until she’s an adult and in love is a better message than simply telling her to wait until her wedding night.
And I’m not suggesting people need to have thousands of sexual partners, although if that’s what you want to do go for it, but I’m just saying this idea of saving yourself for marriage is very damaging. Probably just as damaging as being overly promiscuous. Both kinda mess ya up for a healthy relationship.
I think if I had received a different message, or ignored the message I was told, then my life would have been a lot better. I think I actually met the man I was suppose to marry about a year after I was married. He and I were probably meant for each other. Or maybe not. All I know is if I’d had a healthier and more “normal” attitude about sex I would have never married and probably would have had a relationship with this other man – and who knows where my life would have gone from there. Maybe it would have been worse, who knows – but I’d like to go back and re-live those years differently.
Anyway, back to the song, it left me feeling sad. So I came in and ate right away. Then I felt really sad and wanted to cry but I couldn’t. Then I turned on TV and Larry King had all these “experts” on talking about how to live your life better – blah, blah. I hate those experts and I didn’t need one of them to tell me what I’d just done. I was upset and rather than think about it I ate. I ate to numb any feelings. Then felt crappy. Crappy is an okay feeling to feel, apparently.
Normally in situations like these I’d just eat some more, feel more crappy, stay up until 5am and get up at 6pm. I’m not gonna do that this time though. This time I decided that this was a significant enough event to blog about. I figure if I just start typing some sense will come of it all. So here I am. Typing. Thinking. Feeling. Yikes.
So here goes ….
Being alone is not easy. I’ve lived alone for almost 16 years now. Wow – I had to re-count that because I can’t believe it’s been that long. Yet it’s hard for me to even remember my life prior to that. I had been married 10 years – and we were together 14 years. That’s a lot of years. I was 17 when I met him. Way too young. But show me a 17 year old who thinks they’re a kid.
After he left me I figured I’d be alone for ever. Everyone told me I’d meet someone, but I knew I wouldn’t. I was too shy. Too unsure of myself sexually. It was another 6 years before I did anything about it – I met up with guy I met online. A one night stand. Or a one afternoon lay-down. Whatever – I felt invigorated by my little adventure. Of course it was totally stupid as I didn’t take any precautions, but as it turned out he wasn’t a murderer. He also didn’t know what he was doing – and considering I really didn’t either it was kinda blah. But that didn’t stop me from feeling totally alive. I never told anyone about it until another 4 years past. And it was about another 7 years until I was with a man again.
This time, out of the blue, the building manager at my old apartment propositioned me. I was surprised, thought he wanted to go for coffee – but no, he made it clear he just wanted sex. I didn’t know if he was attracted to me or just saw me as an easy target. But I was a bit flattered. For my shyness I’m kind of a flirt and he was very lonely and was surprised that I was flirting with him. So he decided to take it to the next level – which no other man had even suggested before.
I took him up on his offer – then learned he was married. Which I had kind of figured but really didn’t want to know. My husband had cheated on me and it was devastating. I couldn’t understand how anyone could do that. But here I was doing it. And I continued seeing him for over a year.
I learned something important about myself sexually during that year. I learned that all those years my ex had ignored me sexually wasn’t necessarily my fault. I’d always thought there was something wrong with me. But with this guy I realized I was perfectly normal. Vanilla – but normal. Which was good because he wasn’t interested in anything kinky and neither was I. Although I guess it kind of depends on your definition of kinky, but for the most part we were pretty vanilla – ha.
I remember one day I felt like calling my ex and telling him I was sexually active, and a man found me sexually exciting and, well …. so there! I didn’t, of course, but I sure wanted to. I had that conversation in my head many times. I did feel alive during that time. I realize having an affair with a married man is wrong, but it did bring me back to life in many ways.
Since then I’ve kind of died a little again. But I don’t think at my age I’ll find the love of my life. Men my age are either looking for a traditional ‘wife’ which I’m not, or they’re looking for a hot momma, again – which I’m not.
Sexually, the women out there who are my competition, are way beyond me. I’m pretty conservative which is odd because I’m a very liberal person in every other way. And very open to the lifestyles other people live. I don’t have judgment on sexual behaviours. One of my sisters is gay and she and I have had some outrageous conversations about sex – and nothing shocks me. I don’t really think certain things are moral or not. I just don’t think that way.
Maybe if I was in a relationship where I felt safe I’d be more adventurous. I think that’s probably true. But I’m not even thinking in those terms because to be perfectly honest – sex is one of the last things I think about. Obviously, since it’s not really been a big part of my life.
What I really want, and what I miss the most, is the intellectual stimulation. The emotional bond. The conversation. Yes! Conversation! I so miss that. I have lots of conversations with people everyday, but I so miss that intimate conversation you can only have with someone who cares about you and who knows who you really are. That I miss so very much. Even though I never really had a lot of that in my life, but I’ve had just enough to know that’s what I miss and what I want.
This is the longest freaking post I’ve ever written! Good grief. And now I have to re-read it for typos and to see if it even makes any sense. I just started typing – no thinking. I’ll do the thinking and feeling after I re-read it. Yikes.
