My therapist says I need to find friends and do stuff with them. What a dick! Then he puts a condition on it. They can’t have penises. And, he doesn’t want me having sex – which is totally understandable. No connection intended between the friends and having sex.. That was just an added nugget of information. Although he has allowed me to continue to have sex with Dangerboy. I don’t know if he’s using some old school reverse psychology on me there – thinking I’ll wake up and see he’s a piece of poop and it’s all been the actual nightmare it really is… I don’t know. Does that stuff even work? Because I’m pretty sure my Momma tried that shit all the time while I was growing up. And, look at me now. 🙂
I’ve blogged about friends many times. I don’t have them. And, I don’t have them for a number of reasons! But, mostly I don’t have them unless they have penises. And, lately I’m not sure why I even have guy friends. I’ve become aware in the last 24 hours that I may not even be capable of doing that correctly. Apparently, I present myself improperly. I’d like to believe that I do just fine and others take it wrong. The problem is I have 48 years of a living with a disease that has tricked my brain so many times into believing that I’m whore and failure and bitch and all of those scapegoat labels that if someone wants me to take on that role…… Have at it, bitch! I’m your girl!
MAYYBEEEE… I just feel like fighting back this time.
MAYYBEEEE… I feel like I want to just be who I am and if you take it wrong them fuck off…
Sorry… I don’t want your penis, Dude!
It’s such a fight women play…. Especially women with mental illness. We play so many games with ourselves, I think??? We are always the whores – well, in this case it’s all been simple conversations…. so, no sex involved, but still. We are always the aggressors. And, if we have a mental disease that bitch in our brain will win out every time…. or at least in my case!
Here’s the situation. I bass fish competitively. I fish with my ex most of the time. This is a huge group of men… 100s of men in our circle of clubs and circuits… a handful of them – 20 or so – show up consistently. The majority of them know my ex because his is very good. When we broke up it wasn’t long before they found out about it. A couple of them decided to reach out to me…. UH HUH… I thought they were going to be big boys about it. We are all over the age of 40 for God’s sake! We talked about fishing… dinner came up once or twice. My relationship with my ex came up. Needless to say, well, I don’t really know what to say. I ended up being the one pursuing them. It all blew up in my face. Yeah, fuck that! So, now I want to quit fishing… Whaaaat???
Except I KNOW that I DIDN’T do anything wrong. I fish to relax to have fun – if you have a mental illness can I have an AMEN? Because you folks understand what that means! It took me 48 years of fighting a beast of a disease, but I found something that makes me able to get out of my head – to escape the anxiety… the spinning… the cement block! As it is, I have to put up with my ex to do it. But, we both have been able to be adults about it and we have kicked some ass on the water while doing it. I just want that space and time for myself. Seriously, I have come all this way and finally found something. I don’t want to give it up because BOYS will be fucking BOYS. (um… sorry guys).
I think I’m just gonna “break up” with everybody. Step outside of all the bullshit! They can kiss my ass and I will really be a bitch. Seriously. I’ll be the person I hate people to be. I don’t understand why people have to be mean. But, I think I’m beginning to get it. I’m not a mean person. There is not a vindictive bone in my body (um, unless I’m super sick I suppose and then ….. I don’t think I have ever done it on purpose – but, I’m not going to claim total perfection… I’m borderline people) I’m fun and really can be a happy person. But if this is where it gets me… Seriously! Fuck ’em.
Look out. I’m going fishin’!