Friday, July 18, 2014

Dead Weight and Apathy

“People tend to complicate their own lives, as if living weren’t already complicated enough.” – Carlos Ruiz Zafon, The Shadow of the Wind

I wrote an e-mail today I dreaded doing, but ultimately had to look out for my own well-being because that’s really what’s important right now. I won’t go into the details here because mention of them may cause hurt feelings and that’s not what I’m about. The important thing is that person is being faded out of my life at least for a time being. When I’m feeling more grounded perhaps I can take on the rest of the world’s problems – but now is not the time. My days are spent with very sick people who are facing death. They are afraid. They are in pain and they need someone to give them patience, understanding, and a smile. That’s where my good energy needs to go. At the end of the day/week, I need to be around others who are going to uplift me instead of pulling me into their own vortex of anger and bitterness. For now, with this person, I’m closing the chapter.


I’ve closed the chapter on a few others as well. I can at least give myself credit for recognizing influences that are toxic in my life. Most I’ve cut out completely and others I’ve struggled with a bit more. I know I’ve rambled on and on in previous posts regarding my delicate relationship with my adopted mother. She’s in the hospital again. I find myself extremely apathetic regarding the whole thing. What’s eating at me is that I’m telling myself that I should be concerned that she’s still in recovery. I should care about this woman. I’m sure I do deep down somewhere, that’s just not what’s on the surface right now and I’ve decided I’m going to stop telling myself how I should be feeling and just ride out the apathy. This will pass eventually, I just need to honor that I need time to sift through years of bullsh*t and work through it; it's another form of dead weight that needs to go. 

I'm ready to fly - I just have to teach myself to cut the cord. 

In the meantime, I keep making mental notes to myself of actual notes I need to write to people. Nothing major, just simple ones to let these random people I encounter on a daily basis know that they make my day. I do make an effort to hand write notes on a semi-regular basis to my childhood babysitter.  She practically raised me and I love her. She was my grandmother’s best friend and so much about her embodies all of the experiences in life that are dear to me. There’s also the lovely woman who works at the bike valet station. She’s mute (Why have I not learned to sign?!). She needs to know that smile is lovely and I look forward to seeing her every day. There’s the boisterous, kind and hilarious woman who works in the cafeteria. There’s the kind chef who asks me about my day and is genuinely interested in my answer. These are people that deserve my energy. These are people that deserve to know they make someone’s day because they exist.

The people I encounter now, the women who looked out for me in the past - they need to know they have made a difference to someone. 

My point in all of this is that I am cutting out the negative to make room for the good, positive and fulfilling things in life. I’ve been saying I’m going to do it forever and a day, but have been skipping around the issue for as long as humanly possible. It’s ridiculous. My time is now. I’m taking it.

Dating is still foreign to me. Like my approach to most things in life lately, I’m doing my best to go with it and not overanalyze to the point that I drive myself to some form of mania. There haven’t been many second dates. There haven’t been many first dates, either. What I have noticed is that I am gravitating towards men who are in the military or have a military background . . . . and I never even knew that was some sort of preference of mine until this adventure started.

I’ve had a few dates with one person in particular. I’ve mentioned him before, and I still haven’t thought of another name to call him for the purpose of this blog. I feel at ease with him. He’s made a point of respecting me when I tell him I need time to warm up to him – don’t cross my boundaries because it will send me either running or flying into a rage – maybe even both, who knows? The other night was the first time he touched me without my own initiation of a hug. He ran his fingers on my arm, nothing more. He hasn’t pressured me into anything more and I don’t have the words to describe what a relief that is. He also doesn’t make me go out of my way to see him, either. He comes to my side of town, offers to pick me up if we go out somewhere . . . chivalry isn’t dead. On some levels he understands me. He’s been upfront about his major life f*ck ups as have I. I’m still not sure; I have my reservations about him and I also have all the time in the world to figure it out.

Whatever the outcome, his willingness to let me approach him at my own pace has already left a lasting impression on me. 


So here are my concerns about him: we seem to have no common interests at all. Seriously, it’s like there’s nothing. We do have a good time when we’re together, so there must be something I’m just not seeing yet. On the same note, everyone puts their best foot forward in the beginning, so I’ll re-evaluate this a few months down the road. Additionally, he has an uncanny ability to compartmentalize his life. I guess that comes with being in a specialized Army discipline. While that’s a pretty wicked skill to possess, it worries me a little bit. It worries me because I know someone with that ability, and that person (no longer a welcome presence in my life) is possibly the most toxic, psychological mind f*ck that has ever crossed my path. The person no longer in my life also has a military background. He’s lived with his long-term girlfriend and has many women on the side in many different countries. I guess there’s this nagging (probably irrational fear) that my life will be that of the long-term girlfriend in 20 years . . . ignorant of the intentions, affections and actions of my lover. It’s funny how an attribute of one person who rubbed you the wrong way can cause such an irrational chain of thoughts. I keep reminding myself that they are not the same person. Not even close.

His ability to compartmentalize shouldn't be so worrisome to me. That's another to add to the list of works in progress for the Irish Lass. 


There’s a guy that I’ve been talking to quite a bit who has the name of a comic book hero. I won’t tell you which one. I’ll just call him Clark Kent. He’s in the Army Reserve and we have yet to meet in person. He understands me on a level that a lot of other people don’t as well, but entirely different from the other fellow that I actually have met in person. Sometimes Mr. Kent wishes me goodnight, but his way of doing so is by saying, “happy hunting”. That probably isn’t something anyone else reading this would understand, but it speaks volumes to me. We share a spiritual connection; and that’s an aspect of who I am that Mr. Kent truly understands. On the same note, when we finally meet in person we could decide that we’re enemies and fight to the death. Who knows? I have all the time in the world to figure it out.

While Mr. Kent is away in training he sends me photos throughout the day of him in uniform and it makes me squeal like a little schoolgirl. Lord help me.

Apparently I've had a 'type' this entire time and have only just now noticed it. 


I’m being careful to not judge myself as well just because I’m taking a different approach this time around. I found myself worried the other day about hurt feelings, breaking hearts, unintentionally leading someone on, etc. and I had to tell myself this: No one has made promises or commitments here. What the hell am I worried about? The answer is nothing. I am worried about nothing. I’ll keep approaching this part of life at a snail’s pace. It makes me happier that way. I think my next step is to figure out what type of connection with another person I want in life. At least I think that’s where I go from here. I’m still figuring it out. 

I intend to change many


Thursday, July 10, 2014

He's Really Not Into You

“Don’t spend your time on and give your heart to any guy who makes you wonder about anything related to his feelings for you.” – Greg Behrendt, He’s Just Not That Into You

So I’ve been doing the dating thing for a little over a month now. It feels like a freaking full-time job, and an unpleasant and exhausting one at that. I keep telling myself someone will make this all worth it eventually.

I had previously mentioned my involvement with my neighbor and how fond I had grown of him and his little girl. He had been increasingly distant in the weeks that followed that post. I don’t pretend to know why.  Then came the dreaded words: It’s not you, it’s me. Oh. My. God. He refused to offer any other explanation. Ouch. I thought that was a line that was conjured up in middle school when we simply grew tired of the other person and wanted to move on. And the little girl – I’ve seen her once since then, just last night. She was looking for her cat. There wasn’t an excited greeting or hug.  She looked at me like she didn’t even know me. I felt like a dagger had been thrown at the center of my chest. I’ve missed her. I don’t know what her father has told her – I don’t even know if this is a common occurrence in this young girl’s life – I just know that life feels emptier without her.

I suspect this is what he really meant, but was just too cowardly to have a face to face discussion with me.


I’m angry because I feel like my neighbor used her as a pawn to get my attention and I’m hurt because I know she won’t be a part of my life anymore, and I had no choice in the matter. It’s not really him that I was attached to, it was her. I miss the impromptu playdates, dance offs, and bows. I miss her excitement when she saw me come home in the afternoon and the immediate hugs. That’s just not my life anymore.

She literally had my heart the second she put her tiny hand in mine. 


So I move on because I don’t want to waste my energy on crying over it. There’s nothing I can do to change it . . . .  and once the waterworks start they just won’t stop. For now I’m telling myself to be grateful that it happened sooner than later. He showed his true colors and I didn’t become more enmeshed in her life. That would have devastated me.

I’ve moved on to other distractions. I’m still biking on a regular basis. That’s proven to be a good thing for me. I feel invigorated when I get to work and at the end of the day anything that bothered me is gone because I’ve exerted every last ounce of frustrated, angry energy on bike pedaling. I’m getting stronger, too – it’s worth it.

Channel the rage, Lass. It will go away eventually. 


Life has blessed me with some truly wonderful people. I’ve mentioned my tango friend before – the one who encourages me to get out because he knows I have a tendency to draw into myself. While it’s tempting to do that, I know it’s not healthy, and I’m grateful to have the luxury of knowing someone is in my corner and looking out for my best interests.

 Last week my friend convinced me to play volleyball with a handful of other dancers. It’s been a blast. They call it ‘laughter therapy’. That’s an accurate description. I think ‘rage therapy’ works as well. I had no idea that I was so competitive until I started playing with them – and volleyball is something I haven’t done in over a decade. I never have a voice the entire day afterwards because I spend my entire time yelling at my opponents, hurling insults and cursing in general. My only complaint is that I’ve somehow managed to jam my toe two weeks in a row and today in particular it hurts quite a bit . . . . but I work at a hospital, so I’ve got my bases covered. J

We mean business. 


The online dating saga continues. I made up my mind after my experience with my neighbor that I am so done with older men. Seriously. If he’s more than ten years my senior I want absolutely nothing to do with him. Does this prevent older men from contacting me? Absolutely not. I had someone sending me messages in his 50s. Why?! When he asked me to meet him for drinks I asked him what his intentions were and made it openly known that I was not interested in being someone’s plaything. He responded that it was obvious that I have wounds to heal and he does not . . . . Dude, I think the fact that you’re trying to get in the pants of someone less than half your age speaks volumes about your issues.

Sure I have issues. At least I am honest about them and don't deflect mine to the rest of the world.


I’ve met a handful of guys in person. One really was a pleasant surprise. I’m not sure if we’re a good match, but he did not bore me to hell and back like I initially thought he would . . . and I also turned out to not be the stuck up snob he thought I might be. Our conversation went something like this, “You carry weapons? Me, too! Let’s see if we fight to the death!” I exaggerated that a bit. We just had more in common than I thought. I also very much appreciate that he has respected my statement that I need patience. I don’t warm up to people right away. He doesn’t go for a hug unless I offer. Bonus points for you, guy.

I draw a pretty clear line in the sand. Anyone who tries to blur my boundaries gets nixed. Just don't do it!


On the flip side, there’s the touchy feely types and excessively clingy and needy in general. One bragged about his stellar kissing abilities . . . . . and then he tried to lick my damn face off and plunge his tongue down my throat. My face felt like a toilet. I’m also wary of men who claim that we share a strong connection when I sure as hell don’t feel it and men that use pet names like ‘sweet baby’, ‘darling’, ‘sugar’ or anything along those lines without being a close friend makes me feel like throwing punches. It takes me a while to retract my talons and I really have no rhyme or reason as to why that gets under my skin, I only know that it does. Lastly, there was the guy that seemed genuinely surprised that I actually looked like my photos and yet spent the entire time checking out every other female that walked past him. What the hell? 

A walk in the park with the hound. He was pretty much doing this the whole time. He's just not that into you!  He did ask me out to dinner today. I told him I just don't feel a connection - because there obviously isn't one.


On more than one occasion I’ve been asked what I’m looking for. It took me a while to put it in words, but I think it’s something along these lines: I’d like to find someone to share life with, but I don’t want him to be my life – and I don’t want to be his, either. Maybe our paths will blend more as time goes on and we find similar interests and things we enjoy doing together. I don’t want someone to waltz in and completely unhinge my life by taking me away from things that are meaningful to me and try to mold me into something I’m not. He has to adore my dog because I adore my dog. He needs to be patient with me because I have a tendency to be skittish and can feel like a caged animal if he moves too fast for my comfort zone. I need to take my time to get to know him.

I'm also playing for keeps. I'd like to get it right this time.


What amazes me about my stance on dating is that most men are surprised by my answer. It’s as if they’re expecting me to say I’m looking for my soul mate, I am looking for the ‘one’ to make my life complete, yadda, yadda, yadda. Have we become a society of parasite that feed off of one another because we’re so starved for attention and insecure in our own lives? Heavens! That’s why I took a break from dating in the first place. I needed to be comfortable with who I am and where I am in life. I needed to learn to love myself. I needed to learn to quit attracting the wrong kind of person into my life.


There are a couple of men who have caught my eye. I have yet to meet them in person . . . . and I’m really in no rush, either. I’m mostly looking forward to a summer of biking, dancing, volleyball and the hound. These are happy things for me and life feels complete as it is. 

I'll always be evolving, but that doesn't change my sense of fulfillment.