Chaos Digitized

I'm quite tempted to give up on life as I see it. Sounds suicidal,  I know,  but please don't go off and call the people with the nifty strappy jackets. I'm not suicidal. I'm depressed, but it's more feeling like I've wasted so much of my life rather than wanting to curtail it. I want to be happy. I want to come home and be excited to be around the people who are there. I want to be loved... or at least not loathed by the person who shares my bed. I've had a couple of friends offer to help paint (one of which promptly took back the offer, stating that painting is best outsourced) my new bedroom. I'm planning on hitting up target for the things I need to make my bedroom my own this weekend. Hopefully. My stepson's mom thinks that I'm overreacting. But everyone else in my life thinks that I underreacted upon hearing the news that I was going to have a stepson. So I guess it's a wash. So here's to the next big adventure C.D.

I miss the man I fell in love with.  The one who opened doors for me and would fall asleep while I was talking to him and who would put the goddamn toilet seat down. The one who actually used to like me. This guy who replaced him is kind of an asshole. Does any guy ever stay in that new love mode of taking care of the woman in his life? I'm talking about simple stuff... walking between his girl and traffic. Walking beside his girl. Opening doors. Putting the toilet seat down. Taking your girl out on a date. Holding hands. Watching movies that make your girl happy just so you can see her smile. Closing the goddamn bathroom door so I don't have to smell the rancid effect that your mother's cooking has on your bowels??? Seriously bro, if it has to do with the toilet, please retain some mystery. I want the sort of love that you used to feel for me-before you stuck your head up your ass and started looking for more sex (rather than asking for more sex). Coz guess wha...

It's Florida,  so of course the actual weather is moderate and beautiful...or rainy. Whichever. We don't really get chilly until January or February.  But I'm not talking about the actual weather. Things are chilly between me and H. He's not even trying. So I'm not either. I've been trying for the last few years and not really getting any response to him. But I want to talk about good chills.  Those chills you get starting at the back of your neck that travel all over you when you find something really ridiculously pleasurable. I have had chills recently and will likely have them again very soon. I get chills every single time I hear the national anthem. Other songs do it to me - normally tight harmonies - but nothing gets me every time, every artist (key word, artist -don't get me started on Rosanne Barr,  grrrrrr), except the national anthem*. There. I've said it. No shame. So obviously the best part of sporting events for me is the nation...

Things are deteriorating at home.  I'm sure it's my fault for wanting more than I've ever taken for myself. I want time to do what I love.  Nope, you get enough time between work and the commute... grumble grumble growl. But you have football and a kid you had outside of the marriage.  I've had the football tickets since before I met you... grumble grumble growl. But the kid? I've said I'm sorry for that in one of the TWO counseling appointments I went to... grumble grumble growl. Speaking of counseling?  I've told you I don't like going there because it's too one- sided... grumble grumble growl. So one sided in my favor is a no go,  but one sided in yours is perfectly cool?  (No response)  grumble grumble growl.  I'm tired. I never get sleep... grumble grumble growl. I need time alone for a little while. I had to keep the little guy during my normal nap time... grumble grumble growl. I'm done. I wanna go home. I miss being a...

 He was tall, dark, kind of thick and muscular... big strong rough craftsman's hands, deep rich voice,  thick southern accent. *swoon* He looked about 10-15 years past being a carpenter from a romance novel. And he,  without fail,  called me by a pet name... Darlin', Sugar, Sweetheart. He made me melt every blame time he walked into the office,  called,  or texted me (first client I EVER gave my cell number) .  I had a MAJOR crush on him and the lady that was an admin there and who had known the client for years and years said that he lit up around me and had never been like that before (seriously though,  how many people light up when they get their taxes done? ).  Co-worker admin would always say that he had as major crush on me. There was one time when I actually considered acting on it.  The stage was set.  I needed an estimate on some water damage in my home.  I was all alone at home.  He drives up and... the god...

I'm not writing like I should.  I'm making no progress. Every time I go to work on my writing, I get called away. I have to help with schoolwork.  I have to do everything. I'm  already treated like a dick for working and driving. And now I'm treated like a dick for doing anything for myself. I don't need this. I need to be supported in my goals. I need to be respected. I need to be treated like I'm not the worst person alive for the mere fact of my existence. Anyone want to go on a cruise with me? I won't bite (unless you ask me nicely), I sing in the shower (really well too!), and I don't hog the covers. Seriously, who's down? (Echo echo echoooo) Nobody? Fine... y'all be that way C.D.

 My novel for NANOWRIMO begins with a feverish search for happiness. The happiness is nowhere to be found. My character (me) is unable to feel anything at all. She resorts to self-harm as a way to feel anything. But how far off is that from any other day in my life when you really look at it? I stay in a marriage where I'm obviously not loved. I am loyal to employers to a fault. I even tried to spend time with my deadbeat dad long after most kids (including my siblings)  would have given up. Who is the patron saint of lost causes? That really strikes a chord with me. When my best friend was dying of cancer, struggling with a life-changing diagnosis for her older boy and just fed up with life in general, I told her that if she was fishing for a break, she's using the wrong bait. So is that my problem? Am I using the wrong bait?* I'm not looking for someone else to being me happiness.  That's my job.  It'd be awesome to share happiness. Been trying that for...

Lately I've had trouble sleeping. So imagine my shock when I caught myself dozing off and - wait a second - tripped over my own feet lying on the couch and woke myself, just before the dream faceplant  would have surely broken my perfect dream nose. I did get to sleep once I made it to the bedroom.  And when I did, I was in a large ballroom with hundreds of other people. Coupled off... there were all sorts of different couples there, a beautifully dressed lesbian couple (white western suit,  short purple hair on one and a long prairie style dress on her partner) stood out, literally,  because the majority of the dancers were dancing in the round (synchronized, choreographed steps) ,  but they were dancing their own, enjoying each other's company and the music. And I was dancing too.  Slow two step,  same as the other special couple, following my partner's lead. I can't be certain of who it might be leading me,  but he felt strong,  confid...

I've noticed that I form closer attachments and feel more loved when someone shares things with me that they think I'd enjoy (and bonus points if they're right). Ultimate love is a book recommendation. I formed a HUGE crush on a former coworker when he recommended Ready Player One (and brought it in for me to borrow) and discussed it with me. It didn't hurt that he has a smile that lights up his whole face and has those cute little crinkles at the corners of his eyes. I digress... So, if you can tell me something like "I read this book and it sounded like something you'd enjoy," it gives me an insight as to what you think of me. It gives me a connection to you.  And if I do truly love the book, it makes me love you a little too. Thoughtful gifts are also wonderful. Just that you're thinking of me makes all the difference in the world. You see cool socks that you think I'd love and pick them up?* Sweet! You snap a photo of a sunflower field bec...

I am writing a novel. My blog may suffer for it, but when it comes down to it, I feel like it will be therapeutic. I'm doing the things I need to do to make myself happy. I'm becoming more outgoing. Trying to anyway. I spoke to a stranger in the car dealership the other day. Probably terrified him with just how forward I was.  But I  thought he was kinda (really) cute (seriously, what is it about redheads that makes me all giddy?!?) and he might do my novel cover for me! Squee! The piece he was working on was fabulous and I think that style would fit my theme perfectly. I know this isn't my best writing - my novel is for sure getting that treatment. My words are emotionally charged.  I'm not making the progress I'd like to, but part of that is that I'm getting more snuggles and love from the most awesome little dude in the world.  And I'm living! Time with family, time with just my guy, quality time. And that makes all the difference in the world. So I...