ALL KINDS OF WONDERFUL

For our first date, he took me to see the light show at the Los Angeles Zoo. I held his hand the entire time. It felt warm and safe there. We ate dinner afterward and talked till late. When he dropped me off, we decided he would not come in. I wanted to wait. I wanted to wait. I really wanted to wait. And I also really did not. Historically, I have not been very good at waiting for things that I want. He got out of the car to give me a hug, after the hug, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. On the lips. At first. Then on my cheeks, my chin, my nose, my forehead. It was the sexiest, most tender, sensual, and sweet thing.

I swooned.

And I still did not invite him in.

The next night we watched a movie on my couch. Both of our kids were with our co-parents and we had this wondrous string of free nights that has not happened since.

It was like the universe was parting the seas of time and giving us a chance to fall in love.

And I think we did.

I told him I wanted to wait for four dates. So we did a lot of heavy petting and grinding on the couch like teenagers. I loved the way he kissed.

He is a sexy, sensual, smart, and funny guy with the best boyish manly style I have ever seen.

By our third date, I decided to consider our first meeting as a date, because technically we did walk in and out of the party together. I call that a date.

We finally had sex. On a rainy afternoon. First at his house, then we took his dogs for a walk. He has THREE BIG HAIRY DOGS. Then he met me back at my house and we had sex again before he went to his men’s stag meeting.

I am impressed that we not only had sex twice the first time but we also managed to walk his dogs and hit two separate locations. He is very smart and meditates. Spiritual. Has faith, in something. Makes me laugh. A lot. I feel super comfortable around him. Like I can be myself. He told me yesterday how much he loves how I talk and what I say. He makes me feel beautiful. And honored. And cherished.

And…

Sex at first is awkward. Sometimes.

He is a good human being. A good man. I can tell. Honest. Passionate. Creative. Curious. Compassionate. Everything I want. Yet…he is not dangerous, or scary, or abusive in any way and I fear I miss trauma sex. I fear it is what excites me the most. And I pray that is not true. And I pray that it can change.

Because I don’t want to give up on this one.

SOMETHING is telling me to stay.

 

 

THE ARCHITECT

An old dear wonderful sober friend of mine invited me to his Christmas Party on December 17th. He and his wife host one every year. I usually do not go. This time, I went.

My friend calls me his Eskimo because I took him to his first AA meeting thirteen years ago. We have been close ever since. We usually celebrate our sober anniversaries together. But not since I decided to drink again.

I was not sober as I walked up the sidewalk to his house. I had on a black silk jumpsuit and Manolo Blahniks. I was feeling good. I could not remember the address of my friend’s house so I had my head buried in my phone when I heard the footsteps walking towards me. I knew they belonged to a man but I did not look up. Instead, I heard, “It’s right here. This is it.” Startled and bemused, I looked up quizzically, the most handsome man I had seen in a long time was standing in front of me, “Nicky and Ania’s?” He said. I nodded. He had a shock of thick grey hair sprouting out of the top of his head with piercing blue eyes and manly features. He was wearing a dark suit with a checkered shirt and black tie. Goddamn, he is cute. I thought to myself. And yes, I nodded, thinking Hell, I’ll follow you anywhere. Lead the way! Instead, I said nothing and proceeded to mutely follow him into the condo. He opened the door for me and followed me up the stairs and into the house. As soon as we reached the first landing my dear friend, Nicky, said, in his British accent, “Oh, ello! Looks like you’ve met Sean the Architect!” And that was how I learned his name.

I don’t remember much of the party, except for Sean the Architect. Nicky made me a couple of stiff vodka drinks and I was fairly lit up. Quite a strange experience for me, after having known Nicky only as a sober person for over a decade. But alcohol does that. It loosens things up and the strangeness didn’t matter so much over time.

I spent the entire night outside talking to Sean the Architect. He worked for LAUSD. He had a fourteen-year-old son that had gone to the same elementary school my daughter was about to start in the Fall. He lived a mile from me. A mile!

He was funny and smart and sexy. I liked him immediately.

Near the end of the party we had ventured inside and I found myself talking to a lovely gentleman that I was sure was gay. However, he asked for my number as I was about to leave and immediately turned to Sean and asked, “Well, what are you going to do about that?” He immediately replied, “I am going to ask for your number as well and then I am going to walk you to your car.”

And he did.

While we were walking I slid my hand in his. It felt strong and real. Solid. Good.

He hugged me goodbye without a kiss. We stood for a moment awkwardly. Then I got into my car and he went to his.

20 minutes later he left me a message.

Would I go out with him???

I most certainly would.

And I did.

 

THE END. OF TOMMY. FINALLY.

I was driving home from running a very powerful and meaningful circle with students at a high school in Burbank and was thinking of how when Tommy respects my boundaries and does not contact me it feels like love. It is a very lovely feeling.

Then I got home, and he sent a text- asking how long the “no contact” was for. He knows. Then he said that with all due respect, (although he spelled due – do) he just missed my voice. I saw clearly that it was not respectful of him to completely ignore my boundary. All my happy feelings towards him faded. The hormonal haze is lifting. My feet are planted firmly on the ground again. I am connecting with Great Spirit every day and in every way. I went to a SLAA meeting yesterday that did not resonate. I just don’t buy the theory that “addiction is a disease” it is so clearly a strategy to avoid pain and to achieve connection. My brain is not diseased. My brain has created synapses that fire in a rut based on traumatic early childhood attachment or lack thereof and subsequent failures at finding secure, stable people. My ex-husband was cold. Tommy is abusive. They are both abusive in different ways. My ex and his ex. Jesus. I never allowed myself to fully grieve that. Well, I am now. I unfriended all his women the other day on FB. That felt amazing. To be honest. I want to distance myself as much as possible from my ex’s ex-girlfriend and his current one. I want my own life.

I need to publish the familial piece about being raped when I was 13. I need to write more. Make that a priority in my life. For my sanity. I gave a young girl the expressive writing challenge last night because she was so triggered from the ancestors council that when I asked them to tell a story about a time when one of the people they mentioned either saw them or didn’t, she did not stop crying and did not share a story or her writing. I checked in with her afterwards and helped her find a resource – being in her bed with her tootsie roll pillow. Then I emailed her the directions. Man. I hope it helps. We’ll see. I just don’t want to retraumatize her. That is the last thing she needs. And I reminded the group that she was struggling as I left. They are a tribe now, they need to look out for each other.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Tommy came over last night. I wanted to see him. I was craving his touch. I was incredibly attracted to him in my head all day, but when I drove up and saw him, I had nothing in the tank. It was a strange night. He couldn’t get it up or keep it up. Nothing is more disappointing than that. I made a plan to go up on Saturday. Now I am having anxiety attacks about it. I want to see him and I don’t want to see him. I want a vacation from LA and I want him to be a different person. Talking about it helps me. No one knows. I have not told anyone. I don’t want anyone’s opinions.

I am ashamed that I am still seeing him and I don’t know how to stop.

He called me the Friday before I was meant to go up and see his new place and said he had an issue with something I had “liked” on Facebook. It was a series of oil paintings my friend posted of famous actors giving cunilingus. All you saw was the POV of the woman and they were HYSTERICAL! I joked on my friend’s site that the one of Ryan Gossling got me all like… And the friend that posted this is my dear friend and meditation teacher. He called me not five minutes after I liked it- so that was eery and creepy- and he proceeded to tell me that he thinks my friend is “gross” because she talks about sex in an open way. I told him she is writing a book! And if he thinks she is gross, we are so clearly NOT compatible. He agreed. We hung up. I thought that was that. It was too ridiculous not to be.

Then came Saturday. He texted me that we owed it to each other to have a more intimate good-bye. A more personal one. A better one. Not on the phone. But in person.

I agreed.

I. AGREED.

I wanted to see his place, I told myself. I wanted to get out of LA. I told myself. I wanted sensations. Is what the truth is. I wanted to get high off of being wanted. So I drove to Santa Barbara around 5pm and we immediately went to sushi where the waiter spilled water all over us. Then this couple that he knew sat down WITH us just as we were about to get into a really lovely break-up conversation and proceeded to hijack our dinner telling us how they met thirty years ago in Germany, they had this indelible love affair, and now, are finally back together again and even had a layout photo of them side by side then and now- just like Tommy and I had. When they asked about us, we just told them we were the same. Neither of us had the energy to tell them we were having a break up dinenr that they just crashed.

When we got back to his house we had sex. First thing. It was okay. Same ole. And after about an hour, I felt this strong urge to leave. I just knew I had to get up and drive home, I feared that if I stayed the night, the cycle would just repeat itself over and over again. I had to do something different. So I left. He wept. On me. I wept. But I still left. I got home late. I went to bed.

The next day I felt pangs of regret for not staying. It was a rainy day and the thought of snuggling with him in the morning was overbearing. I have never felt so fucked up and confused in my whole life about a person.

I texted him that. He was angry with me. For sure.

I left it at that. I still wanted him. To want me. I think. I find it so hard to let that piece go. Of being wanted and desired by someone. A childhood of being forgotten, abandoned, and ignored. Of feeling invisible. Of being a burden. THIS is what that looks like as an adult working it through. THIS MUST CHANGE.

Monday night- Halloween- I went out trick-or-treating with my ex and our daughter. Tommy sure had an issue with that! Said he was tired of my threesome with my ex.

Why can’t I walk away from this asshole???? I am a smart and capable woman. What is happening?? I feel sick inside.

I called him when I got home around 8pm and he decided to drive down- sort of without my okay- but anyway- showed up at 11pm. We had sex. I could smell and taste the cigarettes and they grossed me out. He is having trouble maintaining an erection after the first time. It’s a HUGE bummer. Whoa. In the morning we had sex again and he stayed later than usual – we went to breakfast- at breakfast he told me how he thinks the Native Americans have a victim mentality with the pipeline thing. I talked to him about white male privilege. I left feeling dirty and gross.

I went to therapy. Realized I have all these sides of myself and I can’t ignore any of them. I need a council with myself.

Then I had lunch with a friend I met at the Aya ceremony – and she was like the voice of reason- she had been through a similar thing and told me in no uncertain terms that there was no good that was going to come out of this. I needed to end it and block him. Her intensity inspired me. I texted him later- as I was waning from our pipeline conversation- and told him it was not going to work. I had no intention of a long term future with him at this time and was addicted to his attention, affection, and drama and it needed to stop. I was sorry.

He didn’t like it but he allowed it to happen and his last text seemed sweet and thoughtful.

I have not heard from him since.

I found out my step-father, the lascivious abusive one that I have not spoken to or heard from in decades passed away from pancreatic cancer Halloween night. The last night I saw Tommy. Tommy, who reminds me of my step-father.

I took a big rock and painted their names on either side- Tommy/Bob. I took this giant rock and buried it in my backyard. Burying them both. Out of my life and into the earth. She knows how to handle these kinds of men better than me.

 

The next day I went out back where I buried the rock- a raccoon had dug it up- it was sitting on top of the dirt with the Tommy side up.

Creepy.

I buried it again.

Tommy showed up at my house last Wednesday night without warning. I was not here but my daughter was with her new babysitter who happens to be a male of about 26 years old.

I only know he was here because he left a plant on my front steps. A fucking OLIVE plant. Then he texted me and told me he did that. I thanked him. Dumb, I know.

I was scared the entire night that he would return. He sent me some long text telling me how he was not done with me but he knew he had to “allow” me to have other lovers. I was like, WTF is he talking about? Done with me? Allowing me?

Seriously fucked up.

Then he sent another text the next night telling me that he did indeed try to enter my house but saw my daughter playing with a man and realized it was not his place anymore. So he quietly shut the patio gate and left. He realized I had “moved on” and he wished me well.

I told him that was absolutely not okay and if he ever showed up like that here again I would call the police.

I felt scared. Vulnerable. With Trump and now this?

 

Tommy keeps texting. I feel numb. I am not responding. But I have not blocked him. Not yet.

 

 

 

He sent an email:

Dearest,

I have some things to say to you to get clear and clean.
This morning I was in a reiki healing meditation that helped to let go of what I was holding onto.

First of all, I feel in this moment that I have a debt with you to pay off, yet this debt does not involve saying sorry or apologizing for my behavior or even acknowledging what an ass I was to you at times and how I rejected your love and care, and repeated attempts to reach out to me during a time in which I was in full blown ego mode. It does not involve feeling guilty or shameful for my actions or the way I was, or apologizing for being spiritually arrogant. This debt, does however, involve my taking responsibility for my anger, resentment and inability to be within myself with you at a time when our relationship was sooo tender and raw and ripe to flower into a beautiful, flowing, lovely occurrence.

If I could do it over, or go back in time, I would have treated you in the exact same way; disrespectful, judgemental, condescending and cruel. I would not change any of that, for that was exactly where my consciousness was in that moment and time. I would not change the heartbreak, the failed hopes and dreams, the sorrow, the irritation. I would not, and could not change any of that, for I confess that in those moments I was, in no way, able to see your beauty, share your beauty and recognize your beauty. I would not change showing up at your house a flaming addict, getting high first thing in the morning on your porch, craving your cunt, your lips, your body next to mine, your mind, your womanhood. I would not change any of that. The space of regret, loss, foolishness I will not enter in this moment, so therefore I am not wishing for any of it to change or be different than it was. In that time period I was not conscious enough to find a supportive way with you and your situation. I was not clear, kind nor strong enough to use my rational words, underlying my deep emotion and passion.

So thus, the debt I have to pay off with you is letting you know that everything you went through with me, I meant it. I meant fully to mistreat you, put you down in front of pony, argue with you about co-dependence with Tim, and to control the way I saw you living your life. I meant every single moment of this. I had no choice but to treat you in this way because it was the reflection and the energy that I was giving off at that time. I meant completely to lift you up with visions of a beautiful future and travel and co- habitation and then turn right around, into a grinch, and put you down the next day. I meant to judge you for the way you spend your $ and time and I certainly meant to make you feel bad or poorly about that.

And, as previously mentioned, I would not change any of that. I’m not sitting on a pity pile of missed opportunities or should of, would of, could of thoughts giving myself and you more pain and confusion. So there is no way I can go back and change any of that nor do I want to. I’m responsible for all of that and I’m responsible for understanding that, in those moments I was acting from my highest self, horrible at times, and totally hellish, but highest indeed at that time. I was capable of only that in those moments. I don’t want your forgiveness, nor pardon, for that was the exact place where I was in that time and that was the exact energy that I was giving out. That was the data I had received and was only able to receive. There are no excuses and no reasons to share

from the past, although they are there. And it was a perfect match for your reception.

I am not in that place anymore and am in a different place, giving out a much different vibration. I am able to receive, now, that which I was not able to receive before. I am able to receive love and give it in return. That is my consciousness and in this moment the past has only a value to me as a continuation into this present moment. I’m done with beating up on myself for not knowing everything then what I know now. Thank you, thank you thank you for the expansion into a new place and the contrast which brought me here. I thank myself for the expansion and the contrast, too! We provided each other with this to grow and expand.

I am working and striving each moment of everyday to be conscious and grateful for this growth, because I want to see the beauty in you that I know was there that I could not see then, because of where I was. And I see it.

That is my debt I am paying off with you and myself.

In honesty and healing. Thomas.

Ps. I would love to be able to sit in silence with you on retreat. It would be honorous.

Sent from my iPhone

I blocked him after that.

Then last night he texted me (I had unblocked him, why?I know.)

He wanted to know if we would ever speak again. So I finally relented and sent this email:

The last email you sent me was so deeply upsetting and offensive that I have no desire left in me to be in contact with you. I don’t think I can be any clearer than that. I hope you get the help you need.  I am done. I’ve got nothing left. I have no need to see you or to clarify anything. I am clear. 

 

The best you can do for me at this point is to leave me alone. 

AND OF COURSE, HE RESPONDED:

I don’t want to leave in hurt.  Arrowyn. May you go in peace.  All your arrows and jabs at me are the same world you see.  

It does hurt not to be loving. You are correct. 

You are free…

My body is revolting. Years of “being loving” to men when I really needed to be clear and direct has contorted and twisted my insides and it’s all coming out. Literally. Hemmorhoids. Ear infections. Back pain. Exhaustion. Brain fog.

 

 

 

 

I am afraid that if I stop responding, he will finally go away, for good, and then I will be invisible, and then I will die.

But I am supposed to see me. Not be invisible to me.

I don’t know how to see me.

Can someone show me? How do you do that? How? Precisely.

American Honey.

Shia Lebouf.

I know his brand of crazy. Only too well. It is familiar. I fear the unfamiliar.

My life is good without him in it. Good enough. He was unkind and unattractive.

Maybe if he was still hot. But he’s not.

 

I wanted him to be kind. I wanted him to save me, like Lancelot on his great white horse, to be “the one,” to give me that incredible romantic love story for the ages.

And I am so grateful he was none of those things.

Because I need to save myself, I am the one I have been searching for, and falling in love with myself is the greatest love story of all.

 

 

RUN, RUN, RUN…

I told him I didn’t know what the future held but I had to say goodbye for now. This happened on a busy street in Studio City under a weeping tree. Then we kissed. And I walked away crying.

Later that night we were texting again.

The next day I yelled at him on the phone and threw it across the room.

I had a reading with Leon- what he said blew me away- Tommy will never change. I should have known that. Plus. Remembering his face. At our final lunch. His mannerisms and affectations. Not so much. Repulsive. Really.

I told him again- I can’t do this.

Then we decided we would have exclusive sex consistently.

I am participating in an ayahuasca ceremony Friday night and then considering driving up to Santa Barbara to see his new place Saturday morning.

I am not convinced Saturday will happen.

I practiced yoga behind Highland Park, my old polyamorous lover, the other day. He came in after me. I was meditating when he joined the class. I closed my eyes in warrior two- every time I thought he might see me. Then I left class as fast as I could. I did not feel like engaging. I felt like running.

I am working for my ex-husband as his assistant. So fucking humbling.

I had my ass handed to me from the business coach I am working with. Another humbling experience. Once again I am reminded of how little I really “listen” sometimes to people when they are telling me something important.

Decided NOT to see Tommy Saturday after ayahuasca.

Feel good about that.

Have not been super strict about dieta for the ayahuasca ceremony. Just don’t feel like it. Hope it’s a gentle loving ride. Craving ceremony.

Ayahuasca last night – I drank a shitload AND I drank twice and absolutely NOTHING happened to me. I felt no altered state of any kind. Fascinating.

I did realize how silly of a ceremony it was when stone cold sober. A bunch of adults in sleeping bags on the floor writhing and puking while a white woman who calls herself a shaman bangs on a drum and her lover plays a the flute.

I felt stupid. I left as soon as the sun came up. Before anyone stirred. I snuck out.

I decided not to go to Santa Barabara. But Santa Barbara said he would come to me.

I said yes. WHY??? DO. I. DO. THIS. SHIT.

He showed up. We had sex twice and then went to lunch. As much as he annoys me, he amuses me. I felt a deep affection for him. We argued on the phone before he came down and yet, our sex was on fire. Seriously. On fucking fire.

I have no idea what I am doing.

It is a Hunter’s Super Moon and I feel so confused about Tommy.

I am hurting him. I should know this. I should do something about this. He started sending me ideas of all the places he wants to take me to around the world.

All I could do was say Wow.

He sent me unbelievable photos of the Yucatan and Tulum. He texted me about India and southeast Asia. He asked if I could get a weekend off in November so we could go to a spa together.

I started to get anxious. One day at a time. Let’s see how the next time I see him goes. I am planning on seeing him Wednesday night after I teach.

I went to bed wondering if I should just give this thing another shot – maybe it is worth it! Fuck what everyone says. That he is abusive and a narcissist! What do they know? He’s not so bad!! So he says stupid things every once in awhile…so do I?

Right??? Right????

I woke up the next morning and he began our day with a text that dripped with spiritual arrogance. I let that one slide. It wasn’t personal. He asked how I was doing- I told him my body was tired and sore from staying up all night like a rock star and that I was too old for that shit now. He told me how irresponsible I was. I told him to back off. We took mushrooms together and I don’t remember him reprimanding me about that. It took him awhile to respond, but when he did, he apologized, said his judgments were born out of his insecurities. I let that slide too. I asked him how his Master Reiki training was going- he said “intense and challenging” – I told him that was my kind of party! – he said, no, this was for healing, NOT FOR DRAMA. I let that one slide too. It’s starting to get a little slippery here.

Finally, I told him how excited I was to be going Kirtan chanting that evening with a couple of my girlfriends at our local yoga studio.

And that was when he let loose on me.

He told me how it was so sad to see me trying so hard to connect with myself when the moon was perfectly happy how it was. Huh???

And that he hoped someday I would stop and find myself- or some other bullshit like that. It was way meaner but I erased it so I am paraphrasing and I can’t even make shit up as negative as he put it.

And the camel’s back broke.

I did not respond.

All night.

He left messages apologizing for being so negative. I erased them.

I told him in the morning I could talk at 10:30am.

He said okay.

I spoke to my friend from SLAA in the morning, she gave me a script, keep it under 10 mins, she said. Set a timer.

I told him: I can only talk for ten minutes so I am going to keep it simple. I need to take 30 days of being out of contact with you to process this relationship and I need you to respect that. If you reach out, I will not respond. Not that I won’t want to. But I won’t. This relationship we have, at this moment, is not healthy and we are stuck in an addictive pattern. The only way I know how to break an addictive pattern is abstinence.
Surprisingly, he said he understood. He agreed it was a good idea. Just not for thirty days…maybe ten?

I compromised with fifteen. And immediately felt shitty about it.

But this is new! This is unfamiliar territory!!

He said he realized he had some repressed anger towards me that was coming out in completely unhealthy ways.

 

He felt sad for me that I was going to Kirtan chanting while he was doing reiki training.

He’s out of his fucking mind.

RUN.

They all said.

And RUN I….

STAY BROKEN

I dreamed about a bear, that I was trying to date and get close to and it was so confusing and painful. It is really hard watching my ex-husband start a new family and to feel so bereft, broken, and alone. Terrified of how I am going to financially support myself. Thinking of going back to school so a school can hire me. I don’t know if I care for this freelance style life. Maybe I’ll just go into crazy debt and accept it that way.

Returning home from a writing group, we wrote about blood. I wrote about how I didn’t menstruate in the house growing up. Because my body never felt safe. I am craving physical closeness with Tommy. Desperately. Realizing one of the places we met and aligned together was how he never shamed me or rejected me sexually. He understood my ferocious need to connect in that way and mirrored it completely. I felt so held and beloved when we coupled. Coupled. What a word.

I need a job. I need to make money. I am scared. I don’t know what I am doing.

Fear.

Of not being able to support me, alone. Of being alone. Of going back to Tommy because he offers financial security yet, I think he poses a risk to my daughter’s self-esteem and I would rather go poor than put her through that.

I don’t have any answers. Just many questions. And I am so tired of trying to fix myself. I just want to stay broken.

MYERS-BRIGGS CURSE

Something to remember about being an INFP:

  • You are a good listener
  • You do your best for other people, sometimes at great personal cost
  • You have a great facility with language and expression
  • You value other people’s opinions, and you work hard to make sure everyone’s opinions are heard
  • You are incredibly resilient in the face of adversity
  • You give everyone the benefit of the doubt
  • You champion unconventional ideas and attitudes and facilitate change
  • You keep an open mind and an open heart; ever learning and wanting to grow

You are able to find something of value in almost every situation.

Well, that didn’t last long. Before I knew it we were speaking again. Then he came down on Wednesday, even though I told him I only wanted to see him on Saturday. I am useless with my boundaries. Wow. It’s impressive really. How flimsy they are.

Now we are apparently in a relationship again. Yet I am wary. And nervous. And trigger happy.

I am not entirely sure this is a good idea. I sound like my mother. I am repeating her life.

He keeps talking about marriage and money. Fuck me. He has so much money and he wants to support me. Dangles it like a goddamn giant gold carrot.

I am trying to not let it affect me, but it does. Oh. It does.

I’m a single Mom. OF COURSE, IT DOES.

I broke up with him AGAIN last night. The straw was that he was “triggered” by a post on facebook of mine where I shared a graphic about not forcing kids to kiss and hug people if they don’t want to. He felt like I did not support him as a man. ?????
WTF?
I could not take it anymore.

He is not well. Duh.

I am holding firm.

Tonight I spent three hours at the Korean spa. I am fighting the urge to visit the hot bartender down the street. But think staying home is best right now. Tommy emailed me that he really wants to fuck me in the ass tonight and wishes I would leave my door open so he could crawl into bed with me later in the night.

I said no.

This is not love. No fucking way

We are no longer texting, or speaking, or telling each other how much it hurts to not be in contact. I am reading How to Be An Adult in Relationships and it is kicking my ass in the best possible way. This was not love. This was attachment disorder playing itself out with childhood wounds running rampant. He is a narcissist. How can he not be? White privileged entitled mother fucker.

Another person I knew from high school recently reached out. This time to get my permission to use my name in a memoir he is writing. He sent me the piece. It was about how I cried in a breakout group in high school that my brother was using drugs and how much it hurt me. I cried reading it. I seemed like I had it all together at that time. I did not. I was one of the most popular girls in school- girls looked up to me and boys loved me – and I felt invisible, terrified, neglected, and alone.

I miss Tommy’s attention. I feel sick even writing that.

There is a void where his texts once lived. Also, my ex is having his girlfriend and her daughter spend the night now- so they get to have family dinners and breakfast mornings and it hurts. It fucking hurts. I am not going to lie. I want to…

 

THE VOID

Is dark and demonic

Scary

I am scared

I say I am okay being alone

But I am really not

I’m fucking terrified

I endure a patronizing narcissist who is verbally and emotionally abusive

Rather than dive headlong into the abyss

I need to be pushed

I will not jump willingly

I have no choice

The world is burning behind me

I am left with no option

No way to turn back

Thank you, Thomas

For forcing me to face

The unknown

Still trying to find the value in every situation.

DIARY OF A SEX AND LOVE ADDICT

Had a dream about Tommy fucking Mila Kunis in front of me and me raging at him. Woke up clutching my heart and sobbing.

I went to my first SLAA meeting the other night. My friend took me. She swears by it. They are quite intense there. Intense and rigid. Lots of rules. Like NO CONTACT. They talked about withdrawals. Have lots of tips and tricks for handling this. I hope to God they work. I am pretty desperate. It’s never been this bad before. I’ve never been with someone this toxic and fucked up before and NOT been able to fully walk away. This is some scary shit.

DAY 1 of NO CONTACT for 7 days

I need my head to be screwed back on my body instead of my brains being screwed out of my head.

It was an easy day at first. He texted a few times. One text was of the house he was renting in Santa Barbara – or wanting to rent. Then saying this was hard for him. I did not respond to anything. That was not as hard as I thought it was going to be. I enjoyed the lack of contact. Went to yoga. Felt liberated afterward. House to myself. Got tons of work done. Meditated even. Then the pain started to creep up on me. I found myself scrolling through every single one of his facebook posts, asking myself, who is this guy? Really. I even facebook stalked his ex-wife. That was disappointing. She is a trip. Their son looks like her.

Now I am sitting here about to watch a movie and I feel this welling up in my chest. Am I missing him? Something. Something. Something. This way comes.

I hope he doesn’t reach out. I don’t know how strong I am right now.

They (SLAA) told me to block him. And I could not. I physically COULD NOT DO IT.

???? I feel like it’s 2004 again and I can’t put down the booze. My friends are scratching their heads, worried and confused by me. Except for this time, it is not alcohol bringing me to my knees, it is a relationship. I’ve really done it now.

The withdrawals are beginning to set in. I am thinking of how good it feels to be with him physically. When he is warm and loving, wrapping his arms around me.

Why can’t he always be like that?

They (SLAA) said to make a list of all the shitty things he has said or done so I can reference it when I feel weak.

So here it is:

  • It began with him calling me names; dumbass, dumbshit, loser, idiot, slut, and tease. (I told him not to, he stopped everything but dumbass)
  • He told me I was codependent for wanting to bring him soup when he was sick
  • He said I used sex to manipulate because I told him I fantasized about him sexually that afternoon
  • When we were in Ojai at the spa, we were sitting close to each other on a lounge chair after our massages and he spit water in my face.
  • He was ogling a woman at the pool at Ojai and telling me about it
  • He farted on me in Ojai
  • He sent me a photo of the shit he took on his land
  • He called me an idiot in front of his son
  • His son made fun of me in Ojai
  • With Pony in Ojai- he called me a shitty cook, asked Pony if I belonged in a mental institution, and then asked her if I was ever late to pick her up or forgot her at school- all in a mean sense of humor way.
  • Broke me down one day telling me that I was codependent with Tim, that I gave my power away to Pony, and that I was shitty with money. That it was incongruous of me to complain about money issues and then go to Starbucks.
  • Next day he told me to get a job and sent me a budget thing
  • That night he told me he wanted to hate fuck me and date rape me then answered the phone rudely and hung up on me.
  • The next morning he was defensive and rude on the phone.
  • When I ended it he did not respect my boundary at all and drove down to my house
  • He brought flowers with him when he showed up and later said if I didn’t respond well to the flowers he was going to leave.
  • Later that night he said he deserved some acknowledgment for being able to go from zero to hero. (I said nothing)
  • When my Mom was here he told me I was abusive for sending photos of Pony to him and an addict ????
  • He called me a fucking psycho for sending him old photos of me, said I was living in the past
  • Would not respect my boundary about him not seeing Pony and told me that his friends in Santa Barbara joked all the time and I just didn’t understand their sense of humor (regarding him being mean to me in front of Pony)
  • Walking along Colorado Blvd. he told me he was trying to look up a girls skirt and then checking out this woman’s ass
  • At the same time he was telling me how inappropriate it was for me to be friends with a person I had slept with- even once.
  • The last straw for me was when I sent him an article about how Nature changes the brain he told me to wake up, to stop trying to prove things that everyone already knows, and when I was done reading articles I could interact with him. Because he was real, and the article was not.
  • He also asked me to marry him many times, told me he would financially support me, and sends homes he wants to rent. Said I love you way early.
  • He hates my tattoos
  • He made a misogynistic joke on mushrooms
  • He made me feel so small

 

I sent one copy to my friend in SLAA and kept one for myself. I looked at it whenever I started to miss him.

I took a bath with rose petals and put them on my throat. I meditated twice a day – I am everything and everything is me. I wrote about how he reminded me of my angry abusive step-father and inappropriate brother. I did the fucking work.

AND

Because of that- I did not need 7 days- I called him tonight and ended it. Just like that. I felt little to nothing. He cried at one point and I almost laughed. All I had to do was remember how it felt when he told me he was looking up other women’s skirts and ogling their asses. I felt so small then. So small and insignificant. I never want to feel that way again. For as long as I live.

I feel like doing the snoopy dance.

I feel liberated.

I feel free.