Do I Want to Give This Blog Up?

“Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are.” ― Marilyn Monroe

(I do believe I’m a lot like Marilyn. I’m not sure why I feel a kinship with her. I guess because all I want is to be loved and understood.-Sparkly Girl)

There are times in my day when I think about writing and it overwhelms me to the point that I don’t know if I can write another word. I I have met people while doing this writing thing that have changed my life. In good ways and bad. I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster and I think I may want to get off the ride now. I’ve found this passion and I’m feeding it. But at what cost? To become emotionally connected with people I don’t know? And then lose that connection and be devastated? Where is my happy medium? Why can’t I find it anymore?

Maybe I never had one. Maybe this is how I’ve always been. Mixed up, confused, discombobulated, crazy and too clingy. I’m forever changed by the words I’ve written on these pages. I’m changed by all of those that I have “met” while doing this. I’m having a hard time prioritizing my life. I want to write a book. I’ve written the ending. I’ve written the first two chapters, but now I need to continue it. To put the meat in the sandwich, I guess. It’s a love story of course. It’s what I do well for the most part. How I ever started writing about love, I have no idea. This was supposed to be a journal about weight loss and change. It turned into so much more than that.

Will I continue to write this blog? I don’t know. For me it’s difficult because I’ve become very close to some of you. It’s how I communicate. But when I see some blogs come up on my reader, my heart beat freezes and a chill spreads throughout my body. That anticipatory anxiety is what gets to me the worst. It makes me irrational and feel out of control. If you’ve read me for very long, you know I like to be in control. Those of us with Anxiety and Panic Disorder and ADHD need to be in control. It’s a built in defense mechanism.

I hate that part of myself. The angry, crazy and jealous person I can be. I’ll step back for awhile. Type up my couple of chapters and the ending of my book. Then start filling in the rest of the story. The love story. A word of warning to you all. It won’t be pretty. But then some good love stories aren’t. Most aren’t. There’s anger, pain, jealousy, loss and a lot of hurt. My main character does not win the love of her life. But she does change his life for the better.

I don’t know where I’m going just yet. But I’ll let you know when I get there. Thanks so much for reading me.

Advertisements

FWBs and Booty Calls

My friend, the original Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, came to me last week to tell me that he had fucked up. I looked up at him, intrigued. I told him to go on. He said he and a friend had come to a mutual decision to be “Friends with Benefits”. He was shocked that she then started to have feelings for him! I wanted to reach out and slap him. He’s all 6 foot 4, tattooed and gorgeous. But he can be a dumb ass.  I looked at him and called him a dumb fuck. I asked if she was the one that suggested they become FWBs, and he sheepishly said, yes. I told him that even though I’ve been married for 23 years I knew the outcome of his story. If the girl suggests being FWBs, she’s already on her way to “Love”ville. I told Big Daddy that if she calls you at midnight and she’s drunk, then that’s a booty call. Those are okay. But “Friends with Benefits” seldom work out. Someone ALWAYS gets hurt.

In my experience, it has usually been me that got hurt. I always used sex as validation. I figured if he had sex with me, it must mean he cares about me. Right? No he didn’t. To him I was just a piece of ass, till the next real relationship came along. And the boys that hid me away from others? That was even more fucked up. It doesn’t mean that I didn’t hurt a boy or two back in the day. I know I did. Sometimes all we are to each other is sex and body parts. We’re meeting a need or it could even be as simple as curiosity. But remember curiosity killed the cat, or in this case Big Bad Voodoo Daddy’s  friendship. To this day there are some people that I’ve regretted sleeping with. Most I do not. We gave each other what we needed. We took what we needed too. Even if it was a booty call or FWB, there was some comfort in it.