Lady Gaga-Alejandro

 I would have married him if he would have asked. That's how far gone I was with the South American Harley rider. It's been almost three weeks since we have spoken. It's like I have emerged from a drug induced fog. By no means does that mean that I am not feeling the loss of him. But it's more like I can be objective in a way that I wasn't before. I thought maybe it was a loss of human connection that was driving my pain which is especially heightened during this pandemic. But I did go out with a very nice man this weekend. I felt a connection to him even though it was not physical. 

The Harley rider is more than a human connection. He is a drug. A disease. An addiction. He activates my anxious attachment style and he clearly has an avoidant attachment style. When I think of him it's like I am banging my head against a brick wall. I literally have physical pain on the front and top of my head. He is a burning building that I can't stop running into to save my life. I've given it to November first and then I am blocking his number. I realize it is dangerous to leave myself open to his communication. I can't stop wanting him to contact me but pray he doesn't. 

Yeah Yeah Yeahs-Heads Will Roll

 

Alanis Morissette-Smiling

 I don't know what's going to happen. It's been two weeks to the day since I've spoken to the South American Harley rider. We had gotten back together a month ago, lasted two weeks and now have not spoken for two. I know what I should do. I should block his number. Block his number so I'll never be tempted to go back if he contacts me again. But, when have I ever done the smart thing when he is concerned? 

In the space of a week and two days the Harley rider pushed me away and then my father did.  

I thought that a Latino Harley rider was the farthest thing from my white uptight accountant father but I couldn't be farther from the truth. They are one and the same man. When will I stop trying to win my father's love?  

I thought I could heal and be in a relationship with the Harley rider at the same time. But every time he was an asshole my PTSD would trigger. And he could be a major asshole. I fell hard from this last push away. I felt like I was in a rushing river and I could not get my feet on solid ground. I was swept up in feelings from the present and the past. I couldn't tell where one started and the other ended. My therapist helped me put limits on my thoughts to help with the surge of emotions. So my current goal is to only spend half of the day thinking about this shit. But I must not forget how this has made me feel. How he makes me feel. It's just a matter of focusing on how I don't want to feel that way again. I won't let him hurt me again. 

Berlin-No More Words

Doja Cat-Cyber Sex

It's been 21 days since the South American Harley Rider and I have texted. Why the fuck does it still hurt so much? Why the hell am I pining after him? We were texting about fixing things but he said I would fuck things up. I went into a major downward shame spiral three days later and binged on peanut m&m's. I ate a 62 serving Costco jug in two and a half days. I was nodding off for three days like I had done heroin. My body's plumbing clogged up from all of that sugar. I kept waiting for the Crohn's flare up. I know my Crohn's was not that severe until I started emotionally binging on sugar 6 years ago when my Mom died. Four days after the binging started I had therapy. My therapist helped me work through some of the shame spiral. Four hours later my body released physically, emotionally and mentally. I think I pooped out all of that chocolate. 

I'm still a little shaky but have not eaten too much sugar since binging. I did give into a craving for a chocolate milk shake the day after therapy. I pooped that out right away...no holding onto that chocolate. My body is starting to straighten out as I return to a regular food intake. 

I had been getting the binging, sugar intake and Crohn's under control starting in January. I keep thinking how is it that one exploded love affair could make me fall off the wagon and get run over by it. I realized that something more was going on after watching Psych2go's Youtube video, 7 Signs of Unhealed Relationship Trauma. This break up has tapped into unhealed trauma and now knowing this I feel a little less like I'm losing my mind.

Katy Perry-Wide Awake

I had another go around with the South American Harley rider this week. For someone who was just having fun he got really upset at me. He wanted a commitment from me without being committed. My part in things were not expressing my feelings better. I sent a final text and he ghosted me.

I've done a lot of thinking today. Sometimes I think I expect you to be a mind reader. Maybe I haven't said it but I do care about you deeply. I'm sorry if any of my words or actions have hurt you.

I was momentarily curious about a guy in a dress but do not want a guy in a dress. In fact I really don't want any other guys. I want you. All I can say is when I feel myself getting upset I'll take some deep breaths and process things without hopefully saying anything stupid.

Will you come over and talk about things? Maybe start over?

I don't think I could have stated things any clearer. One of my regrets in life was not telling my ex-boyfriend sooner how I felt about him. So I wanted to have my say with the Harley rider. He didn't want me to see other men but I was afraid he would toss me to the side so I looked for other men. I didn't feel secure enough with him. And why would I? He would only commit to "having fun" and I don't know how many women he was talking to. But, ultimately, even if it was too late I did tell him how I felt. So I do have a sense of closure. There have been some tears. I do miss him.

It's really tough for me to be vulnerable. It seems like ever time I open my heart and express how I feel the guy freaks out and takes off. It feels like if I relax something bad will happen.

Should we tell our loved ones everything? I vowed not to keep secrets after watching my Mom keep so many things from my Dad over the years. But was that the right thing to do? That sometimes our loved ones can't handle our secrets? I would like to think that I would find someone I didn't have to keep things from. I certainly kept things from the Harley rider and there were many other things I should have kept locked away from him. But I am happy that in the end I didn't keep my feelings to myself and told him I cared deeply for him. I do not regret that although I regret other things I didn't keep from him. Maybe some people can't handle the truth.

Flume-Tiny Cites & Never Be Like You

He's not going to call. The Harley Rider and I are over. We had a fight last week and I think it's actually over this time. At first I felt free from his control. Now my mind is fucking with me. Yesterday all I could think of was the walk we took the first time we met. We were walking side by side and he brushed up against my arm. After I didn't move away he spun around and kissed me. He took me by surprise and I was so happy. Why can't I focus on the shitty times? Why am I torturing myself thinking about the good times? I want that giddy feeling back. When I would run down the stairs to answer the door. I would throw myself into his arms and he would kiss me. Those incredible kisses. How am I going to live without ever being kissed by him again?

I made it through another night without him. And it was a Sunday night. Sunday night the trash cans rumble around me as neighbors pull them to the curb. I put mine out and wondered where he is. We always got together on Sunday nights after he spent the weekend out on his Harley. At least this morning I am thinking of all of the bad times and am fighting my mind when it tries to focus on other times. I need to remember how bad it was. I need to believe that I deserve better than him.

But not only do I not believe I deserve better than him but I believe there is nothing better than this. My mother did me a great disservice. She and my father did not have an emotionally healthy relationship. I  repeatably asked her if more emotionally healthy men existed and she always answered in the negative. My entire family set me up with very low expectations. Hey, if they're faithful and don't beat you, what else do you need?? 

Ac/Dc-Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

My bedroom still smells like him. What the fuck am I doing? The Harley Rider almost cost me a woman. I was upfront about having him and she worried I was just out for sex. She's bi also and realizes what a bad rep bisexuals can get so after some discussion we were on the same page.
I've recently started coming to terms with my bisexuality. I look back and realize it's been there since I was an adolescent, if not earlier. I just wasn't cognizant of it. I had never heard the term bisexual. I had a fairly conservative upbringing. When I became curious my mother gave me a sex education book written by the conservative Dr. James Dobson. That was confusing as fuck! I thought men just rubbed against you and I decided that might be okay. So learning about intercourse at school was kind of mind blowing. The just of this book was, unsurprisingly, abstinence must be practiced. You weren't suppose to have sex before marriage. Having a same sex partner was so far out of the realm of that education. But why then did I keep looking at the Frederick's of Hollywood catalogs? I loved looking at the women's butts. I'm not sure if I would call myself an ass woman but I loved the butts in those catalogs. It was there, along with an attraction to boys, but I had no name for it. I didn't understand bisexuality or that I was one. And when I started taking baby steps I was met with shame and rejection.
After graduating high school at my job there was an "old" (maybe 50?) bisexual woman. When she heard I was curious and had questions she thought I wanted to have sex with her and wouldn't even talk to me. I was so disgusted! She was the last woman I wanted to have sex with. I believe that it is a common misconception that if you are attracted to the same sex you are attracted to every single same sex person you meet. It took me awhile to realize that being attracted to women was the same as the attraction towards men. Some women I am attracted to, others not so much. I am not attracted to every man I meet. Why would I be attracted to every woman I meet? I think about that "old" bi woman. What an asshole! A young girl with questions and you can't even answer a single query. And I feel like it only went downhill from there.

Blue Oyster Cult-Burnin' For You

Things are fucked up! In the world in general but especially when it comes to love. There is heavy traffic on the dating sites right now. Everyone is looking for a hook-up. And my Harley Rider is all over the place. According to him this is still not a relationship but he bounces from extremes like a mentally unstable child.
This morning alone he said, "No one puts his cock in my pussy and your pussy is mine", along with, "Just use a condom with other guys".
I texted my ex-boyfriend yesterday. He was extremely mercurial throughout our relationship until I left him. Now ten years later he still consistently tells me he wants me back and how much he loves me. I just figured if anyone could give me some insight into the Harley Rider's brain it would be him. I worry I may just repeating the past.
I do however admit I am getting some amazing stress relief. We may be screwing with each other's heads as much as our bodies. But it is certainly fun to roll around in bed with him for hours. It has even made it easier to be around my dad. It could be alleviating some of my caretaker/family dysfunction burnout.

*********************************************************************************

After Note: Fell asleep at my Dad's because I am so tired staying up with my Harley Rider. He wouldn't let me sleep because he wanted to binge, "Curb your Enthusiasm". I don't want to watch "Curb your Enthusiasm" with my Dad. I reverted to emotional eating and wolfed down tortilla chips and ice cream. I think I need more sex.

Tame Impala-The Less I Know The Better

I went out with the Romanian last night. My Latino Harley rider said we were not exclusive. That didn't last for long. He came over after I got home. He wants me to cut it off with the Romanian. And we are now seeing each other. I'm not quite sure if I know what I am getting myself into. He went into full machismo mode. He said he would fight over me if it came down to it. I certainly do not want punches thrown on my behalf. The Harley rider can be a dick when he needs to be a dick.
The Romanian seems to be more sensitive and was willing to take things slow. Am I making a big fucking mistake? Am I throwing away the chance to an emotionally healthy relationship? One not based on carnal desire. I came so hard last night. It is almost impossible to see beyond the pleasure.
How do I end things with the Romanian? I may want to be bad but I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. Does it at least deserve a phone call? I am usually the one being dumped. I am not good at gracefully ending things.

Ellie Goulding-Close to Me

The South American Harley rider stayed with me in my bed last night. I was going to break off things and instead had him come over. I feel such a primal animalistic desire for him. I am like a teenager fresh with hormones. Have I become the cliche of the blossoming woman under his hands? I just needed a good screw by the right man?
He drives me fucking crazy. The gruff biker teddy bear and I'm his bitch. Afterwards we cuddle naked, flesh pressed into naked flesh. We are trying to meld together like melting crayons for a stained glass project. He woke me up at 3:30 am to ride him. He is relentless.
I masturbated after he left as I recalled the night before. I needed porn to finish. What is going on with me? I just am so sick of being good. I want to be bad. It's almost like the 80's movies where the housewife is the horny hooker.
This goes beyond a little caretaker burn out. I think family dysfunction is smothering me. I can not be responsible for everyone's emotions. Sure, logically I know that we can not control another person's emotions. But the fucking unrelenting training in my childhood is that I am indeed responsible. It's a lot to shoulder as a kid. And try as I might I can not break the loop in my brain.
 

The Weeknd-Save Your Tears

I want to be bad. Even before this horrific pandemic I wanted to bust out of my trap. I am so sick of doing the right thing and being a good girl. And I do have covid fatigue. At the beginning I entered lock down but now I am just so sick of the social isolation I am bursting out.
I recently threw caution to the wind and risked both my heart and health. He was from South America and loves motorcycles. He has thick black hair, beautiful brown eyes, stubble and killer eyebrows. He is a gruff biker teddy bear. I could have easily fallen in love with him. But he just wanted to have fun and I want a relationship. He didn't want to break my heart so we ended things. But before we ended things we had a couple of glorious nights in bed. So I went from social isolation to jumping into bed and exchanging bodily fluids with someone who does not take the coronavirus seriously. He takes almost no precautions and I didn't take any precautions with him. But the way he kissed me...
I take care of my elderly father and often am told what a good daughter I am to him. That in and of itself is loaded but I won't focus on that now. I go back to my original thought. I want to be bad. I am a good white girl from the Midwest. I do my best to not to be a Karen. I am a good friend, sister, cousin, worker and citizen. But it can be suffocating; this trying to be good all the time. This constant putting of other's needs above my own. I feel like that could kill me, not Covid 19. I am only human. And that might be how I ended up in bed with a South American Harley rider.

Tanglewood

I started thinking existentially this morning.  I've recently finished both Debbie Harry's autobiography, "Face it", and Flea's, "Acid for the Children". So I could be in a self assessing state of mind. Plus it's a new decade! I realized last night that I have a tough time realizing I exist. That my body and mind are connected and I will not float off into the cosmos until this body is done for. Perhaps I have lived too much of my life in my head. I have never been one for sweaty, grueling physical activity. And past trauma has caused a life-long problem of dissociating at the most inconvenient times. So this morning I thought to myself; what is my purpose in life? Why have the powers that be grant me this life I am living? And my automatic go to is caretaking. I have taken care of many children and animals. I have taken care of my mother as the horrible disease of cancer ravaged her body and took her life. And I take care of my elderly father. While I take comfort that I have given comfort and care to many who have needed it. I ask myself...is this just what society expects me to do? That I have simply fulfilled society's role assigned to women. It's a quagmire. I am good at taking care of others and feel it adds to our messy society. But would I have found other strengths if not for society telling me I needed to take care of other people? Would my purpose in life be something else? I grew up in the 80's. But despite it being after the first wave of feminism, society was still locked in strict gender roles. Of course, we could say that in 2020 we are locked in strict gender roles. What if I would have been pushed in science and math? What if I were pushed in sports? I watch with glee as my nieces are raised in a system which does push them to stretch. Which leads me back to my original morning thought. What is my purpose in life? Perhaps even as I approach fifty I can push myself to stretch despite not receiving incentive to grow as a young girl. That's a daunting thought- can I push myself out of my comfort area of caretaking and develop other strengths that could lead to a more fulfilling societal role? I'd like to think yes, but I do not anticipate it being easy. Here's to the new year and decade! And a new me.

New Kids on the Block

When I was young I traveled to Brazil. I remember getting off of the plane with my excitement building by the minute. We emerged from the airport and caught a taxi to go through the mountain tunnel on the way to Rio de Janeiro. New Kids on the Block was pouring from the speakers in the taxi. I was beyond disappointed. I was ready to experience Brazilian culture and America had followed me.
On that trip I saw poverty like I had never seen before and it broke my heart. We were staying in a luxury hotel and I cried each night at the poverty I had seen during the day. There were children literally sleeping on the streets. And the card board shacks of the favelas spread up the mountain sides. There was one woman with a baby outside of our hotel. Every night I would have my aunt, who spoke fluent portuguese, give her my leftovers from dinner. On our last night in Rio she tried to give us her baby. She cried as she begged us to take her child from her and give him a better life. It almost destroyed me.

Nirvana

Nirvana's, "Drain You", perfectly describes my relationship with S. who is a energy vampire. He drained me dry of energy, money and emotion.

He definitely said he's lucky to have met me.
And I only did think about him not myself.
It was his duty to drain me.
And he did end up in my infected dysfunction.
I practically did chew his meat for him.
And we did pass drama back and forth in a
passionate kiss.

I would like to say I am entirely free of S. after a decade of being mind fucked by him but we are still in contact. He caught me last week as I lay in bed sick with the flu. He can sense my weakness from a million miles away.
I said it might be time to say good bye and move on.
He said if I told him never to contact me again he would abide by it.
Complete freedom from him was within my grasp but I couldn't say yes. I couldn't tell him to never contact me again. Some day when I am stronger I will say yes to freedom.

Odesza

I slept until almost noon today. My initial reaction is guilt but then I thought of the spoons I had used yesterday. Spoons represent tasks and the energy required for said tasks. All of us have a certain amount of spoons or energy to use up in a day. And those of us with chronic pain and fibromyalgia  are among the people that start each day with a lower amount of spoons than a healthy person. I used up a lot of spoons during the day even before the show. But my pain levels were low and I was able to really get into Odesza last night. Their show is excellent with good music, graphics and light show.

QOTSA

Queens of the Stone Age in my ranking come close to the realm of Duran Duran. I love Queens of the Stone Age and was super stoked to see them live. I bought my tickets the minute they were available four months prior to the show date. And then the big night came and I was ready to see them. And then the fibromyalgia pain hit. I was in so much fucking pain during that show. I was suppose to be in heaven watching Queens of the Stone Age instead I was in hell. I even checked the time on my phone during the show which is a big deal. I was in so much pain I just wanted to get out of there. Plus some guy was standing too close to me breaking my personal space bubble.
They are coming to Chicago and I am tempted to try to see them again. But, I can't justify it when my car needs thousands of dollars of work. I will just have to wait until the next album and tour. This sucks.