All the King’s Horses

Its been a while. It’s been the kind of a while that stirs up a “get stuff off your chest” post…It’s been a maelstrom of meditations, medical problems, friendship fallout, and catching myself in symptomatic behavior. To be honest I’m still being carried by the swirl. I know I’ve written about this before, my difficulty with relationships and BPD, but things have come to such a screaming apex that I thought it might be time I wrote out just how it feels being this socially inept.

Firstly, my long suffering relationship with DG has come to an end. He’s no longer in my life. He moved on, found new friends, and is happy as a clam from what I gather. Its rubbed in my face to be honest. It’s a cycle that’s become overly familiar over the years, simply because there is a clear cut pattern that replays with every relationship. There are a few obvious phases that sometimes overlap and sometimes come alone and fierce.

Anna Karenina

This is the phase of pure paranoia. Things will be going along swimmingly until we spy a tiny, probably meaningless and unintentional hint and spend hours trying to decipher the meaning. We weave these thoughts into an ever increasing web of certainties that may or may not have any basis in reality. Consequently, by acting insecure and suspicious, we push away the very people we fear losing.  Like Anna Karenina,  the smallest signs of being abandoned take hold with a ferocity painting only visions of endings that no reassurances can overcome. While those feelings led her to suicidal resignation, I’m trying to reason my way out of mine.

Humpty Dumpty
The big one with BPD that I can tell you is happening for me right now is the cycle of putting someone on a pedestal (idealization) and then just as quickly, after whatever trigger occurs, feeling nothing for them or even worse, feeling anger toward them (devaluation). I can tell you that I had no idea I was doing this until the pedestal broke, but looking back, this person’s word was gospel to me, every opinion the totality of truth. Now that the break has occurred, all I can see are the fractures left over from the fall.  People are angels or devils with no in between. It’s a hard way to see the world and it’s never made an appearance so strongly with me as it is now after DG. Even Though I recognize what’s happening as symptomatic, I can’t stop the feelings from overwhelming me.

I’m no longer fairest in the land, it’s Snow White.

Here comes the anger and the jealousy. The view is extremely selfish… everyone wants to be favored; to think they’re the closest, the most important…but when the illusion is broken, it’s a long way down to the concrete. This comes into play when you are no longer the center of attention like you once were. It comes with the inevitable pulling away that comes with every friendship whether it be the arrival of a significant other, new friend, new co-workers, whatever the new and exciting thing may be. We feel replaced, no longer good enough (that is if we don’t have the solid self esteem to show us otherwise – which we usually don’t). So, my friend found a new friend. Most people deal with this in a healthy way hanging out with other people who want their company. Focusing so much the one perfect person, however, made that impossible. In the all or nothing thinking, there is now nobody left. I felt devalued and it set of the chain reaction of devaluation and landed me in my angry little hole. Being pushed off to second place (or lower) is something I’m keenly aware of.

Fear and Loathing and the Devil Ether

This all leads me to the fact that while I know all of this, and can recognize the symptoms, just like the devil Ether, “you can actually watch yourself behaving in this terrible way but you can’t control it.” The feelings are so overwhelming. You can reason with it. You can try to think your way out of it, present it with alternative scenarios, shame it, cry and hope it goes away, but in the end, the emotions have their day. You find yourself thinking terrible things and plotting until you snap yourself back to reality.

It isn’t easy. No one can Live up tho the picture I painted, no matter how loving or kind. No one can live up to the best friend myth that I keep looking for either.

The problem is I’m still, well,  I’m mad. Angry. While that’s an honest feeling, it also ranks me in the “unhealthy relationship” category and pushes me even further down the scale of people likely benefit from friendship. I’m still behaving in this terrible way by feeling betrayed and reacting to what was to me, a very real event. So, it’s kind of like shooting yourself in the foot accidentally. It seems I might have to get used to the idea of of being fully on my own and learning to like it.

Blankety Blank

 

It’s a little weird to have no more questions to answer at the end of the blogging challenge. I can say that it’s been a bit odd not having the daily post to do.

I thought that I was on a roll and decided, like every year, to sign up for National Novel Writing Month. I had a couple of overlap days which was a little much, but I was both excited to jump in but worn out at the same time.  Then there was a crash. A few things unraveled. My car broke down, I got sick, and…I couldn’t write.

Seriously. Crash-o-rama…

In the midst of chores I started feeling crappy and…bam! Fever. Aches. Being stuck on the couch and most of all, no word count. One day turned to four and I had nothing behind the eyes but a massive headache.

I’ve never tanked the contest before and I’m still feeling kind of bad about it. I’ve been, to be honest, feeling a little depressed and cursed with bad luck. Out of nowhere, I saw another 30 day test of dedication. A random diet page I follow came up with 30 days of gratitude! Instantly that was a real challenge. I’m without wheels, missing appointments, miserably sick, isolated, and to top it all off, facing complete apathy from my Doubtful Guest (the boyfriend).

Of course I know I’m supposed to be grateful. I know it! But faced with it as a 30 day challenge I had to remember than knowing something and practicing it are far removed. Obviously, the problems tend to stick out and occupy your mind, especially when your mind feels like it’s getting ready to make a break from your skull towards the cat door.  So, today I’m thankful that I have something to write about and for the fact that there are suddenly people reading it (Thank You!). I’m thankful for everyone’s kind comments and for the opportunity to be completely me (as off as I can be). I always seem to forget that for things to get better, you have to focus on the things you want, not the problems.  I’m done circling the drain, as my bestie’s mom says.

I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I might be up for a Life of Brian sing-a-long instead of ruminating on the issues to be solved. (ok, yes, I may actually like show tunes after all!)   A rousing round of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” might scare people I know, but a little enthusiasm may yield better results.

Day 29 – All my friends are imaginary

Who is your closest or most special friend that you’ve never met and what do they mean to you? How did you cross paths? Talk about how you “met” them: Facebook, Twitter, an online support group, etc.

Well isn’t that a pip? It took me a while on this one. Is it a typo? Is it my best friend or is this a build-a-best-friend workshop where I can stuff him with rainbow fluff, hug him and squeeze him and name him George? Given how “Met” is in quotations I’m guessing I can make up anyone I please. Do I wanna be besties with the Joker? Sheldon Cooper? Emily Bronte? Did I meet them in a bar, at Gotham’s diviest bar? At a physics symposium or run across Wolverine while renting a horror flick at Blockbuster? The mind reels with possibilities.

I’ve decided to do a bit of a split between the two on this occasion. Actually, it’s a stretch but go with me on this one and then see if it works for you.

I met her on a cold night in the dark back alley of one of my stories. She’s always there, lurking behind the sharp German expressionist corners of the more dramatic passages. She’s a hard one to pin down and I’m not sure I actually have yet. I only get snippets through the fog banks but what I see of her is both aloof from the world and longing for it at the same time. She has the loneliness of an outsider forever watching through the windows into the happier stories in this world. She comes to see me when I’m at my breaking point. offering me her companionship when there is no other and reassuring me when I need a reflective opinion. Sometimes she’s unruly and says horrible things. She says things I would never let anyone else get away with but she’s just trying to protect me. She wants me to remember danger and to tread lightly which I’m grateful for but sometimes I’d like her to shut up about it already.

She is beautiful but doesn’t know it. She’s talented at a number of things but denies it. On occasion though, she shows me that I can do what she cannot. She roots me forward and energizes my dreams. She’s there when I need to vent frustration. She’s there to cry with. She’s there when I’m angry and need a voice. She’s everything to me and all at once nothing to me. I try to get past her and then try to find her. She’s the only one who will walk with me until the end and I need to cherish her more, compliment her more, giver her more time and affection. She deserves my love as much as everyone else in my life and more. She deserves recognition and remembrance. She may be flawed, but she’s the only one I’ve got to keep me company when I’m alone.

What is that song? I’ve been to Paradise but I’ve never been to me? Horrible song, agreed, but there is a point in there somewhere. If I need to make up an imaginary friend, I may as well get to know the little me that’s in there that goes ignored and chastised most of the time. Not a horrible idea I think. Sure I’d rather hang with Wolverine eating popcorn, but maybe I’m not such bad company in the long run.

Day 23 – Smile and Nod

Talk about a moment when you got annoyed with a married friend, a person in a relationship, or a person with kids (Be honest! No judgment!).

To be honest, I don’t get annoyed much anymore. For the longest time just the sight of a happy couple or the mention of someone’s boyfriend in a conversation would send my eye to twitching. Over the past months as I’ve realized that I can really be happy alone, it doesn’t phase me much anymore. I’ve actually caught myself watching My Fair Wedding a few times with no negative effects. Progress I think. There was, however, one recent time when the whole subject irked me. Getting advice on ending your single life from a happy couple is always so much fun, isn’t it?

It was a random weekend and my relatives were going on about a trip they were taking and one of them seemed less enthused about it. I asked him why he agreed to go since it wasn’t his thing at all. Well, it it became a big discussion about how relationships were a compromise and how I’d never get everything I wanted, that I should be less picky. At that point it was brought up that I should try this new online dating site. When I pointed out that I didn’t subscribe to the religion it was based around, I actually heard these words of advice,  “Who cares? You can fake it. You’re getting older and you need a man around the house.”

So the happy couple was giving me the message that faking my most deeply held beliefs was better than being alone. Somehow neither of them batted a lash at this. It made me wonder just how fake their relationship was, how much each of them was lying to the other, and if either of them realized that implication for themselves when they’d said it. According to that advice, being dishonest about myself was preferable.  Somehow being in a relationship is supposed to trump being true to myself because, you know, compromise. At that point it was more stories about how each of them did things for the other that they didn’t enjoy because you have to.  Compromise is all well and good, and it’s not that I’m incapable of it, but I’d much rather be alone and real than fake and in a relationship that won’t last the second a little tremor reveals it’s shaky foundation.

I’m over hearing about it. I’m over couples’ advice, I just smile and nod and wait for them to stop. That was the last time I got the eye twitch and the last time I argued on the point. I’ve decided no matter what the examples are in front of me, I’m going to follow my heart on this one. What the heck is the point of a relationship if you’re not allowed to be yourself? Now that I think about it, I wonder if that present they got me was really from where they said it was from…hmmm.

Day 22 – Sweet Villainy

What fictional character in a movie, tv show, or book do you identify with and why? On to a juicy one. As every one of my friends knows, I have always had a thing for the villains.  It seems odd, I know, to go straight to baddies when asked who you identify with, but there really is a good reason, besides I never think of villains as bad per se. A villain is simply someone who’s had their happy ending taken away, and who grows increasingly desperate in their means to reacquire it. We all want the hero to win to make the world better but we rarely identify with him. Everyone loves a good villain because they’ve been damaged, hurt, and forever changed by it. Everyone can relate to someone else’s pain, can’t they?

As usual, I’m torn between two answers. The first is Queen Regina from Once Upon a Time, aka the Evil Queen. Since my son started calling me Regina, and my ex-husband jumped on that bandwagon, I’ve been paying attention to her story. She’s lonely, wounded and trying so hard to be better for her son. That does strike a chord, plus she can actually shoot fireballs from her hands and keeps boxes of hearts, who wouldn’t love that? Ok, maybe it’s only me… Something about getting older as a woman also makes that character resonate in the classical Snow White sense and really, I wouldn’t mind keeping specimen hearts in jars somewhere. Yes, I do watch Oddities now that you ask.

However, like Highlander, there can be only one and the character closest to my heart (was that a bad pun?) has to be my beloved Captain Hook. In this case, it is NOT the Once Upon a Time version, nor the Disney. Everyone who knows me is familiar with my Hook obsession. I gave a good amount of my arm for a tattoo of him so that should say something. Given the way he’s usually portrayed, that may seem like a bizarre choice but when I read the original book to my son. I found a character I didn’t entirely recognize or expect. 

Firstly, I love his style. I grew up in a house that was all about the velvet drapes and gold scroll work. That ornate classical style reminds me of something I lost when I left my childhood home for my father’s more minimalist style. My place now, with a little more work, could be Hook’s captain’s quarters. If I could explain how much velvety drapery and gold is going on in my apartment, well, it would be obvious why I love the man’s extravagance.

Secondly, Hook has a temper to be sure, but he’s an extremely lonely character; brilliant and tormented by an immature boy who cares nothing about the damage he’s caused. He is most often described in the book as melancholy. He feels all alone, even around his crew because they don’t understand him. He talks to himself, deflated, because he’s so terribly alone. He’s been injured, lost something vital to him and is left to deal with the fallout. In that way, anyone who’s been left to pick up the pieces after being injured by someone indifferent to the injury they’ve caused can relate to him…you know like that guy who broke your heart and was out partying the next day and moved on like you never existed? You know how you were tempted to slash his tires and lay waste to his truck like Carrie Underwood sang about? You just wanted him to feel something like you felt, right? (Or kind of like how my husband left me alone with a kid to raise and flitted around like a demon sprite with no responsibilities…Yeah, like that) He simply wants recognition for his loss. Instead, he has his attacker flaunt his victory and freedom at every opportunity with no remorse and worse, a cocky pride. If you’ve ever tried to get someone who doesn’t care feel something for what he’s done to you, well, that’s all Hook is trying to do and as a reward, he’s portrayed as a villain for doing so. 

Lastly, he’s an example of duality. Here is a character who was well-educated, elegant, and well-spoken. He was an Etonian and a PIRATE! It doesn’t get more rebellious than that. In that way, he’s totally punk rock. I’ve never seen Hook as a villain. I see him as the book says, a not wholly un-heroic character who is tragic in his way. I can guarantee I’m the only one who can’t watch his demise without tears, especially with a pile of creep children cheering on the crocodile, but that’s alright with me. If no one else can relate, I have my lonesome companion in print and under my skin reminding me to let go and disengage, reminding me of what I can become if I don’t and where it leads. At the very least he reminds me that I really need some cooler coats.

Day 18- Dear Me, Love, Me

Today’s grand quest…If you could have a conversation with yourself in high school, what would you say?

Well, seeing as how I was a complete pain in the butt when I was a teenager, I probably wouldn’t listen to myself, leading to an epic slap fight which would probably bring an end to our whole timey-wimey, wibbly wobbly sort of universe. I was good like that. I was an ass. An overly dramatic ass at that. Come to think of it, I still am…

Firstly, after apologizing for giving myself the big red palm mark, I would probably gasp and face-palm myself mostly for the hair staring back at me. I would then tell myself the most important thing. It would take care of the bad hair, the bad habits, and the overt, pain-fueled drama, the people pleasing, all of it. I would tell myself that even though I didn’t have one secure place to be, that you can be your own secure place,.. To start inside first instead of looking outward for my self-worth. My dad never had anything good to say, things were unstable and scary. I felt less than all of the time and I wanted to escape. I know now that all of  my reactions to that were ok. It was ok to be scared. Who wouldn’t be? It was ok to be angry. It was ok to be me. I would have given myself a big hug and told  that younger me that no matter how bad her hair was, or what bad role models she currently had, that I loved her, and that would be the key to so many of life’s challenges.

Learning to find that small voice inside, that stable place would save her from trying to find it in lousy, untrustworthy friends, a bad marriage, kept her on track in school, given her courage to leave an unhealthy environment, and saved the world from a book full of really bad poetry. It would have saved her from the drinking and the smoking and the stupid, unhealthy eating of her feelings to fill that hole. It also would have saved her favorite frilly shirt from the torch while trying to write said bad poetry in candlelight. (Never mix ruffles, tears, and open flames kids!). Yes, I’m sure I used the word “plummeted” in there somewhere.

I would also beg myself to get counseling now so we wouldn’t have to go through it later. How much easier would it be to tackle those abandonment issues when they were fresh? Deal with my dad’s stuff and realize it wasn’t me? That no one’s behavior was me but them? Priceless. Save myself from years of spiraling anxiety, panic, and depression that really started then? It would have been a miracle if I had support back then in the midst of all the drama. It would have been life changing. It would have helped me stay my course and trust in myself enough; believe in myself enough to not give my goals up for the promise of a relationship or to please anyone else. I also wouldn’t have taken crap for my love of black.

The last thing, and it ties in as well, is to stop caring about other people’s opinions. Now, that’s not to discount criticism or disregard well-meant advice, no. If I had learned then not to value others’ opinions of me more than my own, I wouldn’t have tortured myself nearly as much as I have over the years. Kids tear themselves apart to fit in only to find later on that they’ve lost themselves and now have to rediscover what makes them unique to stand out. I made some bad decisions, and some horrible fashion choices, even for then, but to learn to be and stay authentically me no matter what the surrounding storm, that would be the main point; the only point. Love and love first from within. Be authentic. Don’t try to please everyone because you can’t. Then you can shine outwardly – even darkly. I would get that across no matter what… even if I had to say it over and over and over, with charades, photos, Pictionary, or even the odd slap fight, space-time continuum be damned.

Day 17 – Spiritual Evolution

Oh drat. I can’t put the little rainbow star in the title. That would have been rad…Just because in this case I think that the more you know, the better off you are.
I find it ironic that today’s subject is to discuss our spiritual beliefs and how they impact our relationships and/or relationship status…given that I’ve just spent two full hours sitting in a class discussing Jewish traditions with a bunch of people I didn’t know attempting to follow along. I don’t happen to be Jewish. I did it for the kid. My son has decided, for whatever reason, that he resonates with that tradition so I’m letting him explore that by going to the classes for a few weeks because I believe that inquiry is a good thing, especially in spiritual matters. In the meantime, while waiting for him, I sat in on the parents’ class. There’s a high learning curve with any religion you aren’t familiar with, but they all have wisdom to absorb and I came away with some good stuff. Mindfulness, a focus on thinking and observing your own behavior, respect, etc…

As far as my beliefs, that gets complicated. I’ve really dreaded this assignment because I don’t fall into a majority category which leaves me open to all forms of criticism, but I promised myself authenticity and I have to be intellectually and personally honest. I also came at this with the idea that I’d have to defend my point of view, but there really is no reason to spell it out. It is what it is as everyone else’s ideas are.  I’ve spent years trying to find answers to the big questions, reading, looking for evidence, looking for parallels, looking for anything that would lead me to a place of peace…in short, that same inquiry I’m encouraging the boy to pursue. What I found instead was a heck of a lot of arguments, people using their beliefs to feel better than, and ironically, not a whole lot in the way of kindness or peace.  In the end, if I have to label myself currently I’d go with Secular Humanist. I’m a person who requires evidence to back up large claims but as any evidence based human is bound to do, with new and changing proof, I change my mind. I am also of the mind that all religions point to the same thing and that we simply can’t at this stage, know what that thing is in a quantifiable way. I believe in equality, I believe in love. I believe in anything that brings people together in a positive way to make the world better.

I’m also open to mystery. I’m not foolish enough to claim I’m sure of anything or the lack thereof. It seems to me that a few hundred years ago people were pretty sure that the world was flat. Also, a few hundred years ago, people couldn’t imagine that there was an entire microscopic world of bacteria and viruses that was the main cause for their illnesses, so I’m sure that soon enough we’ll have whole new ways of viewing the world that are unimaginable to us now. I love to be surprised. I’d like to hope that there is more to us than this crude matter, as Yoda put it.  I won’t speculate or succumb to wishful thinking. I go where the evidence points but there is the chance that though we can’t prove something right now, evidence may come to light someday. I’m on the more open-minded side of agnosticism. It’s always the dreamers that make the discoveries anyway.

As to how this opinion affects my relationships or my relationship status, well, obviously I don’t have a spiritual gathering place in which to meet someone (unless I count the Jewish class – which could mean I’ll have a lot of studying to do!). There are no rational thinker dating sites that I know of… Maybe I could meet someone at a nice lecture at the Academy of Sciences. Most of the people I do meet have differing beliefs than I do and that does take some compromise or it can be a deal breaker for some. I suppose there’s always a challenge in finding someone with matching views to your own to begin with, no matter what they may be. D.G. and I have differing views, but I think (and I hope I’m right) that he respects my way of thinking and I duly consider his point of view as well. Some of my other friends more closely match me, some are the opposite. These things are always in flux and you never know what can happen to change a person’s ideas. As long as respect is present, which it should always be, there’s no reason to have issues.

Day 16 – Time Warp

If you planted a time capsule right now of your life to be opened in 20 years, what would be in it?

To start with, the A #1 thing would be pictures of my son up until now, especially the one with he and I this last mother’s day. We’re still close right now, and while I hope we always will be, I’m trying to bank the good bits. I want to remember how he wants to cuddle and still wants to be tucked into bed every night before the day comes when he starts rolling his eyes, muttering at me under his breath, and referring to me as “the hag.”

Secondly, a copy of my manuscript should go in there along with all of my currently unfinished ones. I have an unholy, masochistic urge to once again work on the big one today. It’s a huge accomplishment that I’m proud of. Even if nothing ever comes of it, I want to remember that I did it, or whoever opens it to see that I did it. If they read it and come to the conclusion that it’s awful, well, at least I stuck with it to write a full 300 pages of awfulness instead of quitting after 100!

Third would have to be a before and after picture of me. The before I was at my most robust weight which was close to requiring a manatee grade scale. I’ve managed to lose a full hundred pounds and that’s something I never want to forget that I’ve done. I have a little left to lose yet but I’m nearly there and I’m so much better than I was. I need to remember that it’s possible and that I am capable.

As for the rest, like Laurie in The Walking Dead, or any mother during the zombie apocalypse (it could happen), I’d throw in the photo albums. Photos of the family, friends, happy moments and events (yes, even my wedding, no matter how that ended up), and a copy of my journal to reflect some of the not so good times. It’s important to remember the balance. I’d also throw in randomness. I have collectibles, little Dracula figurines, some of my paintings that I’ve done, photo projects, crafts, books, all things that reflect the odd personality. Maybe some stuff from the prep room to remember the job, letters I love, and a photo of the actor that inspires all of my main characters whether I want him to or not.

I think, for posterity, I’d also throw in a variety of the stupid anxiety pills I take as well, also for balance. The journal would explain it all to anyone who’d want to know. Maybe I’ll get lucky and something of mine will become well received and published and then all of that side of things can be referenced as evidence of my tortured genius! Ha! Honestly, I just want to remember the struggles as well as the bright moments and I want my son to realize those things too so he can make sense of his own struggles; to realize he’s not alone. In the end, that’s what all this stuff is all about.

Day 12 – Victory!

I wanted to say that my proudest accomplishment was my son, but I can’t really take credit for that, at least not all the way. I steer a little here and there but he’s his own driver. It’s also a cop out answer.

An accomplishment should be something that you plan and work toward and complete from beginning to end without quitting. That’s what makes my answer hard. I’m not really great at celebrating victories or taking note of small steps, which really is a lousy habit. I tend to notice the things I didn’t do. I never learned to swim. I can’t ride a bike (no, really), I never got that degree out of indecision…

An accomplishment is something that should have you falling asleep in your corn flakes, buying extra concealer for the dark circles, and drowning in coffee. Thinking back, I do this every year in a contest called NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month, It’s really more of a challenge than a contest because you don’t really win anything other than a little winners badge and the satisfaction of knowing you’ve written 50,000 words. I’ve finished every year for the past few. I have a bunch of almost-books in the wings just sitting there waiting to become something. 

One of them, however, I actually went back to, revised, revised again, and revised again until I had a 300 page piece of…work. I stayed up day and night for weeks. I drank tons of coffee. My eyes went blurry. I did laps. I procrastinated. I tore out hair, I yelled out loud and sat alone at my desk in the middle of a world of my own making. It was mostly a filthy world because I was too tired and engrossed to do much cleaning, or actually anything else, but hey, I was dedicated. I wrote when I hated writing. I had fantastic moments of sudden inspiration. I came up with things that were amazing that I can’t believe I wrote and then I came up with things that were horrid that I can’t believe I wrote. The experience was both wonderful and so much more difficult than I can ever describe.

The book is still nowhere near perfect. It’s still not agent ready let alone sitting on a book store shelf, but I did see the story to the end. I fleshed it out and I intend to keep working on it until it is something that people will read. Now those people may be the population of my office and my family home, but hey, it’s people!

The point really is that I finally did have that experience of seeing something through. I know now that I can do it. The next time it will be a little easier and hopefully a lot better. I hope to have book signings and maybe a graphic novel (and maybe people arguing on a forum about what some nit picky thing in one of my chapters really was supposed to mean) one day. Why not dream big? There’s nothing to lose by dreaming. Anything can happen. Make it big and then a little bigger! I just want fan boys! Not too much to ask…

Day 11 – Bad Dates

Let’s see, my worst, funniest, or most embarrassing date…I’m not really into dating in the formal sense. I usually like to get to know someone for a while first in a casual sense before heading in that direction, hanging out as friends. When I go down the road of thinking  about the actual dates I have gone on, they’re all kind of depressingly bad.

Let’s see, I had the guy that climbed up the side of my house to sneak in and scare me to death, the guy who told me I had big legs (supposed to be a pick-up line??), the guy who made me a fetish box full of nail clippings (ew!), and then the guy I dated last.

I went to have my car worked on and the mechanic asked me out. I liked that he seemed nervous and I couldn’t remember the last time someone had actually asked me on a date. I decided to have coffee, actually tea, with him at my favorite book store. I figured at least I’d be in a place I liked if it didn’t work out. We talked for a while about this and that. He’d almost become a priest but didn’t because he liked new wave, which I found hilarious as a visual. Why not put on the vestments and dance around to a little Echo and the Bunnymen, you know?

Anyway, it was ok, though I was nervous and a bit uneasy the whole time. He asked if he could see me home. I declined but we made a date for the weekend. He went in to kiss me but I couldn’t do it. Just not that quick and to be frank, I hated his cologne. I’m big with smells. That should have been my first red flag…

Just why I went out on a second date with him I don’t know. I figured if the guy could hang with me at the cemetery, a place where I was likely to feel comfortable, then it would be a good sign. I met him at the garage (he smelled like grease which was oodles better than that cologne!) and told him where to meet me. He was up for it. I went to the store to get almonds and coconut coated dates and rushed to make it back to meet him at the time we agreed on. Well, I was there, got it set up and waited. I had the kid with me, which was unorthodox, but the guy thought it was sweet so that was another check in the good column. Still, I should have gone with my gut…

It was a peaceful Saturday afternoon with a nice breeze blowing the leaves on the hanging branches. No one was around. The kid was climbing the nearby trees having fun, and I waited. Then I waited some more. When I finally decided to break into the almonds, he finally showed up. I asked what had taken so long. He’d decided to go home and shower so he didn’t smell like garage. That’s right, the cologne! It carried on the breeze like the noxious fume it was. I tried to ignore it and we started chatting. It was pleasant enough until he made an off-handed comment about it being his lucky day because he could see my underwear. Soon, he was onto his favorite physical, intimate activities and asking me questions about mine.

After about 15 minutes straight of my trying to change the subject and him keeping on the intimate track, I asked him point blank. “Are you actually interested in me at all or looking to have a relationship?” He point blank said “No”. I was shocked to have him be so blatant but at that point I realized that a funeral procession was on the way up the drive and that we were in a bad spot. Unable to help myself, I watched the service  as I packed up wondering if I knew anyone affiliated with work. He suggested we go back to my place. Flabbergasted, I said I wasn’t comfortable with that as I hadn’t cleaned for company. I had my son with me for crying out loud! He then dropped the doozy I’ll never forget.

“I want to see where you sleep.”

I was so creeped out I wanted to run. I thought back to his wanting to follow me home the first night and was feeling close to a panic attack. As we walked to the cars to leave, he tried again to kiss me, rather forcefully and I managed to fight him off. He told me he could be extremely persuasive and told me to call him, mouthing “Call me” as he drove past out the gate. I just felt dirty and took the kid to visit grandma, not wanting to drive home. I didn’t call. Oh no, no I didn’t. It wasn’t so funny, or embarrassing, but it was by far the worst, at least since high school which pretty much says it all.