All I ever do is whine

I am the reason my life is so boring. Not Jeremy. Not my job. Not my friends.

I have been hiding.

When I began my career, I used to hang out with friends from work. That didn't turn out so well. A friend of one of these friends began acting in a not-so-appropriate way. We all drank a lot, so I figured he was just goofy. It progressed to the point that he was calling me ten times a day, on average - with some days nearing twenty. When I finally had had enough, I called him out on his behavior and commented that he must be on drugs. Unfortunately, he WAS on drugs and my commentary did not create the desired effect - him leaving me alone. Instead, he went into a downward spiral of alcohol and cocaine abuse. He tried to turn my friends against me, which worked for about a month. It all unfolded one day when T. was arrested for possession of cocaine and driving while intoxicated. Our friends were shocked; even though I could see the problem, they couldn't. My friends apologized to me, but I never did lower my guard and enjoy a night out with them again. They were understanding when it I explained my reservations and they kept trying to earn my trust again, but they never succeeded. I do not easily forgive anything, and I never forget.

When I moved back to Michigan, I took on three jobs. I worked eighty hours a week, but I managed to hang out with my new friends from the school and from the hotel. Somewhere in there, I managed to complete a decent amount of graduate coursework. I felt like things were getting better. I felt it was important to support my friends in their creative expressions, i.e. poetry slams, lounge singing, etc., and I made it a regular practice to be there for them. In turn, I found myself the conquest of not one, but two men. While this may sound flattering, it really wasn't. I don't know how to react when someone is interested. I always feel like I should like that person back, regardless of my own relationship status with others. One of the two has lingered in my life, remaining a friend and always acknowledging that I am devoted to Jeremy. I feel weird that he likes me. He calls every few weeks to "check on me". It's nice to have a friend, but I think he is hoping that things won't work out between me and Jeremy. When I originally started hanging out with him, Jeremy and I weren't doing so well. We were adjusting to a new location, and we had experienced an awful year prior to that.
The other guy, N., was a really sweet guy. On the surface, he is a wild man, and that is what most believe him to be. I was able to see him, though. We had deep conversations about life and experiences and lessons learned. When we were out drinking, he looked after me - which I thought was very kind. He and I usually traded off DD responsibilities to let everyone else enjoy themselves. We'd laugh and joke. I thought I had found a great friend; he thought he had found something more. He made his move, which I kindly resisted. It was awkward at work for a while - he and I were usually scheduled during the same shifts at the hotel. And that thought stirred in me - should I like him? I toyed with the idea of trying to like him in that way, but my heart belongs to Jeremy and has been a fixed point for many years. There would be no sense in throwing away what I have for someone I can't see a future with.

Last year, I took a job at a different school and moved away. I moved to a small town in the middle of nowhere. I thought my life would be moving forward - I even met up with a couple of my coworkers several times. It all seemed to be going well, even though I was living two-and-a-half hours away from all the people I care about most. Then, a coworker started to make inappropriate comments to me. First, physical comments. Then, he began making a series of sexual comments about me and Jeremy. It got worse. Despite my efforts to stop his behavior, he moved on to try to make physical contact with me. Jeremy was upset. I was upset. I was doing everything in my power to avoid this man in the building. I didn't want to work. I was miserable while there. The man was coming into my classrooms while I was teaching and would try to make contact with me. I ended up going to my supervisors and reporting his harassment. Another woman in the building was experiencing the same behavior. Luckily, my bosses dealt with the problem quickly and correctly. The man was not allowed at any social events for the staff, and his participation in building-wide meetings was prohibited.

I moved again in July. I thought moving closer to "home" would help me live my life more actively. I hate that I want to hang out with my friends. I hate that I want to step back into the social scene because it never seems to work out right.

But I am miserable staying home.

I think I am a magnet for people with issues, but I don't feel empowered now that I am not experiencing these problems. I know what being empowered feels like - it's the feeling of fighting off someone who is trying to force himself on you. It's knowing that I can go out and take care of myself - that problems will NOT follow me. It's a comfortable feeling that allows me to speak in more than a whisper in a restaurant or bar. It's that feeling of being in control of my own life.

I don't feel in control.

And I am not having any fun.