This post is going to be absolute shit. I promise.
As I am drunk. I'm broken, and I'm drunk.
It's been a tough summer so far. I went into this summer knowing that I would not be doing the camp that I have dedicated the last 22 summers of my life to, due to politics with the new priests in that community. My decision to not be affiliated with the camp this year was an incredibly difficult one to make. I do not care for, nor agree with, the direction the new priests are taking with the camp, and will not put my name on it. But in taking a stand against what I believe to be wrong, it also means that I have had to give up my kids. I love these kids, more than they will ever know. And I have to trust that they will have the strength and knowledge to know what is right and what may need a second opinion on the new lessons that are coming their way. I was offered the director position for a camp nearby, and while it did manage to fill a huge area of my empty heart, there is still the absence of the camp that has been my home over the years.
Right before the summer started, already mourning the loss of my camp, I also lost my job of the last five years. Though I had been burned out the last year, I had truly loved my job, and the company I worked for. I used to be the favorite, even though it seemed that the gild had been off this lily for several months, though I don't believe my performance had faltered. I was terminated because I made a stupid mistake on a technicality two months before that I had no knowledge of, and isn't listed anywhere. While I understand the termination in some ways, in many ways it has left me baffled. I had never had so much as a single write up, and the stupid mistake really does not seem to have been enough to where they could never deal with me again. Did it make me that horrible of a person? The month after I was gone, the store I had been managing did horrible numbers in comparison to what I had brought in. It still seems weird to me that an honest ridiculous mistake should make everyone suffer. What good did it do? I still have a hard time waking up knowing that the company I loved so much doesn't want me. That they don't view me as being the best person to work with my crew or the clientele that I brought in. And the fact that I have been having an incredibly difficult time finding a new job just rubs salt into the wound. Two months later, and I've only had a handful of interviews, only one of which is promising, and I can't even afford to take it. Too little money, too far away, too close to the open wound.
When I got home from the camp I directed, my mom informed me that they are putting my childhood home up for sale. Two weeks from now. While I understand the reasoning, and respect their needs, I'm not going to say that it is an easy pill to swallow. I've had a way of life that I have been very used to, and in three months time, much of it has been ripped out from under me. And even with all of it, while devastated, I've been putting on a calm, good face, and coping as best I can.
Until today.
Today I lost it.
Today I went to my parents to help with things, and my mom ridiculed me in front of her neighbor and the girl that she has clean her house. My mom had asked me to come help yesterday, and I spoke with her telling her I would come today. I had horrible cramps yesterday (at times I get them to where they annihilate anything I would consider doing with my body, like sitting up or standing), and I was on muscle relaxers because of them. Apparently my mom didn't hear what I said, because when I got there today, she humiliated me, and basically told me to leave. This is extremely upsetting because my mother rarely listens to what I have to say. Whenever I try and tell her a story, she'll cut me off and start into something else completely. My sisters notice it often. When I got back from camp, I was so excited to tell her that I had been given a youth director position at the church. Hoping she would be proud of me, and that she would want to hear about what I had the kids do at camp. Instead, she spent our time telling me about her bills, and informed me that they would be selling the house in two weeks. I did not leave my parents house knowing I had made my mother proud, instead I left my parents house that day with a broken heart. My mom couldn't care less about what I had done with the kids at camp. So today, when my mom had treated me so horribly, simply because she, once again, didn't listen to me, it broke the dam. All the sadness, loss, upset, and devastation that I had been holding at bay surfaced. I sat in my car, on the way home, in tears, screaming at whatever cars decided to pass me or get in my way. For the first time since I had been coping with all of this, I did something completely irresponsible. I went to the store and bought a crap ton of alcohol and a loaf of French bread with money I didn't have. Then I went home and drank a bottle of wine and ate the loaf of bread. And sat down to write in my dating blog about everything that doesn't have anything to do with dating (believe me, that's not going well, either).
But hey. At least I went to the gym today, before it all went to hell. At least there's that.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
Boredom Strikes
It's been about a month, and I've been remiss in writing. In my spare time I've been talking with men from different singles sites. It's like some weird addiction and leech all at the same time. I still hold my stance that singles sites aren't the best way to meet someone, but it has been a nice distraction. But a distraction is primarily all it is.
Most of the guys that I have been talking to live in other states, and I'm not willing to relocate. Though it has been nice getting to know them, it's difficult to take it seriously. What really gets me is learning more about some of these men, and being surprised that there truly are good men out there. There are two that live in other states that have really stuck out.
The first of which is a gentleman in Baton Rouge who I really hit it off with on our initial conversation, so much so that we stayed up chatting until seven in the morning. He's a few years older than me, has an easy laugh, and sincere personality. He was extremely respectful and flattering during our hours long conversation, and it was amazing. Then I found out more. It turns out that he is a single father, in an interesting situation. His daughter lives in another state, but not with her birth mother. Her birth mother abandoned them three days after she was born and has never been heard from again. He raised his daughter by himself, and with the help of a good friend that he eventually got into a relationship with, who became the only mother his daughter has ever known. Even though they broke up years ago, he recently decided that the best thing for his daughter's future was to move her out of the dangerous area of Baton Rouge, and put her in a good school in another state with the mother that loves her. Though he misses her and visits her often, it's a sacrifice that he has lovingly done for his daughter until he has the ability to move with her. To hear him speak of his child with so much love and as a sacred child as opposed to a burden and object as many single dads do, well, it touched my heart.
The other gentleman currently lives in Texas, though he has lived in many states due to having been in the army. We struck up a conversation, and I asked him about a few things on his profile, primarily how he is 41 years old and already retired from the military. He gave me some sort of bland answer, and I just let it pass by. On our first actual phone call, within the first few minutes, he had something to tell me. He had an urgency about it that I didn't completely understand, though I could tell he was really nervous about it. He asked me if I was sitting down, and so I sat. He then told me a story that somewhat startled me because it was so unexpected. It turns out that six years ago he had been in a bad motorcycle accident, and while he survived it, he lost both his legs, one just above the kneecap, the other just below. I listened to his story, and felt for him. He was so nervous having to expose himself this way. Only someone that has to open up her deepest secrets every time she dates someone would understand. It's a hard scary thing to do - put yourself out there to be judged for something you are not in control of, but is yet a part of you that will never go away, every time you have an interest in someone. After hearing his story, I asked him how he was. He seemed a little surprised that my response was so simple. I asked him how he gets along now, and about the logistics that work for him. And then I explained something: I had a friend in high school that had also gotten into an accident, and had also lost both her legs. She is so spunky and sassy, that she purposely wears shorts with her titanium prosthetic stilts, just to show off that she is unique. I always thought that she was so cool. She took something that would destroy many, and put it right out there. I asked him what types of responses he's had from women after telling them his story, and he then made me cry. Most of the women he has told have either told him they were no longer interested, or immediately backed out of talking to him, or have even hung up on him. People are so cruel.
I probably will never meet either of these gentlemen in person, and many would think that it is ridiculous to continue talking to them, but it doesn't feel that way to me. I'm still talking with men in town, and have no expectations of these situations. If anything, I feel a little guilt that I'm not serious due primarily to the distance, but it has really helped to meet and get to know them both. There are good men out there. There are also other human beings that need to be treated as the worthwhile people that they are.
Most of the guys that I have been talking to live in other states, and I'm not willing to relocate. Though it has been nice getting to know them, it's difficult to take it seriously. What really gets me is learning more about some of these men, and being surprised that there truly are good men out there. There are two that live in other states that have really stuck out.
The first of which is a gentleman in Baton Rouge who I really hit it off with on our initial conversation, so much so that we stayed up chatting until seven in the morning. He's a few years older than me, has an easy laugh, and sincere personality. He was extremely respectful and flattering during our hours long conversation, and it was amazing. Then I found out more. It turns out that he is a single father, in an interesting situation. His daughter lives in another state, but not with her birth mother. Her birth mother abandoned them three days after she was born and has never been heard from again. He raised his daughter by himself, and with the help of a good friend that he eventually got into a relationship with, who became the only mother his daughter has ever known. Even though they broke up years ago, he recently decided that the best thing for his daughter's future was to move her out of the dangerous area of Baton Rouge, and put her in a good school in another state with the mother that loves her. Though he misses her and visits her often, it's a sacrifice that he has lovingly done for his daughter until he has the ability to move with her. To hear him speak of his child with so much love and as a sacred child as opposed to a burden and object as many single dads do, well, it touched my heart.
The other gentleman currently lives in Texas, though he has lived in many states due to having been in the army. We struck up a conversation, and I asked him about a few things on his profile, primarily how he is 41 years old and already retired from the military. He gave me some sort of bland answer, and I just let it pass by. On our first actual phone call, within the first few minutes, he had something to tell me. He had an urgency about it that I didn't completely understand, though I could tell he was really nervous about it. He asked me if I was sitting down, and so I sat. He then told me a story that somewhat startled me because it was so unexpected. It turns out that six years ago he had been in a bad motorcycle accident, and while he survived it, he lost both his legs, one just above the kneecap, the other just below. I listened to his story, and felt for him. He was so nervous having to expose himself this way. Only someone that has to open up her deepest secrets every time she dates someone would understand. It's a hard scary thing to do - put yourself out there to be judged for something you are not in control of, but is yet a part of you that will never go away, every time you have an interest in someone. After hearing his story, I asked him how he was. He seemed a little surprised that my response was so simple. I asked him how he gets along now, and about the logistics that work for him. And then I explained something: I had a friend in high school that had also gotten into an accident, and had also lost both her legs. She is so spunky and sassy, that she purposely wears shorts with her titanium prosthetic stilts, just to show off that she is unique. I always thought that she was so cool. She took something that would destroy many, and put it right out there. I asked him what types of responses he's had from women after telling them his story, and he then made me cry. Most of the women he has told have either told him they were no longer interested, or immediately backed out of talking to him, or have even hung up on him. People are so cruel.
I probably will never meet either of these gentlemen in person, and many would think that it is ridiculous to continue talking to them, but it doesn't feel that way to me. I'm still talking with men in town, and have no expectations of these situations. If anything, I feel a little guilt that I'm not serious due primarily to the distance, but it has really helped to meet and get to know them both. There are good men out there. There are also other human beings that need to be treated as the worthwhile people that they are.
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