Archive for April, 2010


Posted in Brutal Honesty with tags , , , , , , , on April 28, 2010 by addictmagnet
I want a place of my own. A small place full of light. A cheap studio or one bedroom place in a good neighborhood. A place where I can come and go without worrying about anybody else. Somewhere I can be alone. Somewhere to have a dinner party. Somewhere my dad doesn’t interrupt with the score, or the news while I am writing. Where I can listen to the music I like, watch what I want on TV, or sit in the quiet. Somewhere I can run from the bathroom to the bedroom naked after a shower.

I want a car. Not a sports car. Not a van or family wagon. Not a muscle car or a classic car. Not a status symbol. A car. Something reliable. Something to get from point A to point B. Something with good gas mileage. A car so that I can go where I want, when I want. So I can make plans on the spur of the moment and go. So when I want to get out of my own place, I can. I don’t want to rely on anyone for a ride or to borrow my Dad’s car.

I want to no longer be lonely. I want to reconnect with friends I haven’t seen in twenty odd years because I have been out of state most of that time. Busy with boyfriends, husbands, and children. Busy with my own foolishness. I want a girls night out. Drinks or brunch with my mom and sisters. Craziness with old friends, catching up or just having fun. Girlfriends to laugh with and confide in.

I want a friend. A guy friend. Not a boyfriend, relationship, romance, fiancé or marriage. A guy friend. Someone to talk to about books, music, film, sports. Someone who will share the pain of another season watching the Cubs lose. Or, go to a movie…you choose this time, me the next. Someone to go out to dinner with, share a glass of wine with. Someone to sit with and read the Sunday paper, or watch the game. I don’t want to hear about the woman you are still hung up on. I don’t want to hear about your problems at work. I don’t want to pay your way. I can and will pay my own. I don’t want or need another addict in my life.

I want to continue therapy until Labor Day, before I have to start looking for a “real” job. I want give my broken soul time to heal. To remember how to love myself. To remind my children that I love them. To express to them how sorry I am for any pain I caused them. For them to understand the decisions I made seemed like the right ones at the time. To thank my parents for all their help. For not giving up on me, even when it would have been easy. To thank my siblings for biting their tongues more often than not, which I am sure was not easy. But for speaking up when it seemed necessary. I love you all.

I want to be happy again. To find that part of me that I like. So I can share it again. I want this yesterday. But I know I have to be patient. So I will keep up the soul searching. Continue pouring out on “paper” that which fills my mind. Posting the crap, and the truth. The good and the ugly. I will cry when I am feeling sorry for myself and laugh on the good days. And I will keep trying.

blind man’s bluff

Posted in Brutal Honesty with tags , , , , , , , on April 28, 2010 by addictmagnet

You enter the room, I slip out
Lying side by side not sleeping at night
Comfortable in our discomfort

Now we’re just playin’ blind mans bluff

Neither admitting we’ve been beat
Continue the illusion, playing nice
Love has ended, but the game remains

‘Cuz we’re still playin, blind man’s bluff

Living apart has changed nothing
Blame and responsibility haunts both
Neither want to cause more suffering

When will we stop playin’ blind man’s bluff

rough draft

she’s takin’ back control

Posted in Brutal Honesty with tags , , , , , , on April 26, 2010 by addictmagnet

Now she’s gonna dish it out, She’s finished takin’ shit,

Gonna tell it like it is, No answerin’ to him,

She’s doin’ what she wants, Done working’ for the man,

She’s laughin’ at it all, Cuz she’s cried to many tears,

She’s lustin’ for man‘s touch, Not needin’ a man’s love,

She’s takin’ what she wants, Not carin’ for his needs,

She’s gathered all her strength, She’s takin’ back control.

why did she stay, how did she go

Posted in Brutal Honesty with tags , , , , , , , on April 25, 2010 by addictmagnet

She thought “He is the one”, Believed that it was love
He treated her so special, No one was put above

She had no way to know, Why would she even think
When He began to scare her, When He took to the drink

She didn’t want to tell, He never left a mark
She didn’t want to fail, But he became so dark

She denied it had gone bad, To family, friends, herself
He took her far away, To have her for himself

She needed to be needed, She wanted his gold ring
He begged her to stay with him, He promised everything

If she could only please him, If she could make it right
He tried to keep her close, Held that leash so tight

She felt such deep despair, No longer saw the light
And, he no longer cared Nor understood her plight

She finally had to leave She had to save herself
He sentenced her to twenty years Not twenty years to life

rough draft 4/25/2010

the unfortunate fb date or how to squeeze big mistakes into small opportunites

Posted in Brutal Honesty with tags , , , , , , , on April 25, 2010 by addictmagnet
“She had an unequalled gift… of squeezing big mistakes into small opportunities.” Henry James (1843 – 1916)


Plans were made…. Saturday evening we would see the local band playing at the current hotspot. Safe for a first meeting. Public. Get there about 8:30 pm, stay for the first set, if things weren’t going well I could split. Hopefully he was as stimulating in person as he was online.

Got to town Saturday around 4:00 pm and ran the errands I needed to get accomplished. Then went to my sisters to hang out and get dressed. Nervous. Feel like a teenager with a crush. Had a beer to calm my nerves. And, made the call to “firm up plans”.

Big surprise! He can’t make it (fill in any excuse here… it really doesn’t matter). He really, very much wants to meet me, can we make alternate plans for another time.

Going against all my rules and instincts (he is someone I went to high school with, we do know some of the same people… I rationalize) I suggest we just hang. Pizza and beer. Watch a movie. I really just wanted conversation with him anyway. The parallels in interests were so compelling. Obscure music, books, and films. Some of which when mentioned usually got a blank stare. Address and directions, and the fateful die was cast.

Brother-in-law (Regional Manager for Liquor Company) offers a bottle of Black Cherry Rum, and suggests lemonade or Squirt as a mixer. Stop buy the liquor store for a twelve pack. He lives in the upstairs “apartment” of his cousin’s place. Has a roommate. Let’s see that makes at least four of us… Yes, a twelve should be good.

Call him to say I am on my way about 7:30 pm. Can’t stand to prolong the agony any longer. He admits he hasn’t taken a shower yet. I offer him thirty minutes and suggest he use them to get himself and his place presentable. (There’s a joke there that you can only understand if you have seen this place.)

I call as I arrive and he comes down to meet me. He introduces me to his redneck cousin and the redneck cousin’s friend as we carry the refreshments up to his place. Redneck cousin glares but is polite. He was right the place is a work in progress. Construction materials in every room, none of which are complete. Should be beautiful when its done, if it ever gets done.

We have some interesting conversation and a couple beers, as “The Mummy” plays in the background. The roommate comes home and grabs a beer and sits down. Polite chit chat…. He’s going to bed, has to get up early in the morning for a business trip. Jack and I decide to go into the other room to watch a DVD or listen to music.

Unbelievably good music and thought-provoking conversation. The first flutters of sexual tension. A couple shots of the rum. A couple more beers. More sexual tension. And then, I start to realize he is drinking more than me. And, we are the only two drinking. And, he’s not stopping, even when I suggest we stop. I realize I have gotten myself into quite a predicament.

Can’t leave. Won’t leave. Not after losing someone to accidental overdose from alcohol poisoning. What the fuck! Are all highly intelligent people also addictive personalities? So here we go. I have him run down to the car with me so I can find something comfortable to sleep / baby sit in.

Let’s have another shot….. No! (First major mistake…. This is where I should have poured out all the rum and beer but there is no working drain upstairs. And, I didn’t have the balls to take it downstairs to the redneck cousin’s place by myself. Shame on me. You ever try to fight a drunk? You never win.)

I suggest we go lay down and listen to some more music. We get as comfortable as we can. ( Second major mistake….. As a lonely, recently separated, horny woman I decide to use this predicament for some physical contact. Figuring, I am stuck here anyway, and it will distract him.)

Unfortunately or fortunately, I haven’t quite decided, he is still brilliant when fall down drunk. He is brutally honest about himself. (Another quality we have in common. This fucker and I could have been separated at birth.) And, confessed he had been having a relationship with a married woman. And, he ends up being an extremely generous, tender, patient, understanding, and talented lover. In fact he refused to “fuck me”. He did bring me to the brink of orgasm a couple of times.

He admitted his redneck cousin had suggested he get a blow job from this internet chick. And, I thought “Oh, I’ll give you head like you’ve never had buddy”. And then proceeded to do just that. He used that favorite “guy” line, “No woman has ever been able to make me cum with her mouth”. (Why do all guys think this line is so original and that reverse psychology is foreign to women?) Although I didn’t bring him to orgasm, he confessed he came close and was debating whether or not he should cum in my mouth. (Side note: Women who like to give head, give good head….those who don’t, don’t.)

We didn’t sleep until 4:00 or 5:00 am. When I woke up at around 11:30 am I took the opportunity to go downstairs to use the only working bathroom and while downstairs dumped the rum. The redneck cousin introduced me to his “old lady”. (Really!). And asked if Jack was passed out. No…. I lied. I told him we had stayed up all night talking about the old days. (We didn’t even remember each other from high school.) And, we were just lounging around hanging out. He asked me to tell him his Grandmother had called.

I went back upstairs and drank a Dr. Pepper and read from some of the books in his library. He slept. I woke him around 2:30 pm. Told him I needed to get on the road, it’s a two hour drive. Relayed the message that his Grandmother had called. He begged me to stay. I know he was still somewhat inebriated because he insisted he loved me. Asked repeatedly if I would be “his girl”. Made me promise to come back and visit. Asked if I would stay just a while longer.

I agreed…. Now, who is the bigger fool? Who has more of a problem? I must be insane.

He went downstairs to use the facilities. He got the “you fucked up” speech from his redneck cousin. Smoked a cigarette and called his Grandmother. Admitted he had fallen off the wagon and apologized. Redneck cousin asked if had gotten the blowjob.

We spent the rest of the day talking and touching . And, I finally got laid. (I cried!?!?!) The first person since my ex-husband , the first person in twenty years other than my ex-husband, and he’s more of a mess than me! Or, is he?

I finally pulled myself together and insisted I had to leave at 9:00 pm. Dreading two hours in the car by myself. Totally perplexed with myself. Utterly baffled by Jack. Completely disgusted with the redneck cousin. Jack walked me down to the car and kissed me goodbye. My parting shot to the redneck cousin as I waltzed out his front door was “I give great head”! Which I am sure he misinterpreted as an invitation, but of course was meant as a “fuck you”.

Sex Addiction

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on April 23, 2010 by addictmagnet

First, no I am not a sex addict.

They use to call it nymphomania in women, now its sex addiction for both women and men.

You may be at risk if:

you have a seizure disorder
you suffer from depression
you have a panic / anxiety disorder
you have an addictive personality

These people crave physical contact.

I know because I suffer from some of these disorders. I crave physical contact. I am very touchy, feely. I am a true believer in hugging relieving anxiety. (Just for the record, I just ended a twenty year relationship and I was completely faithful.)

Please talk to a professional if you are at risk.


Posted in Brutal Honesty with tags , , , , , , , on April 23, 2010 by addictmagnet
When she walked away it felt liberating. She did not feel remorse or apprehension. The marriage had been the longest relationship in her life, the best and the worst as well. Twenty years of being his, not her own person.

Now she feels ready to take on the future. To, for once in her entire life, put herself first. There is no husband or child to take care of before herself. She is making all the decisions for just one person, and taking responsibility for just one. To live alone. To come and go as she chooses.

She is dating again. The only part of this she fears. How does she, now, open herself to another man? She is longing for the audacity she always had in her youth.

She has had a few awkward flirtations and dates. Feels so unprepared. The bravado is gone. In the past she had always felt in control. When did she become the needy one? In the past she left men begging for it. Now there were times she had to bite her tongue lest she, herself, become the beggar.