The End of an Okay Week

So, Tupperware man said he's going to leave me alone...and he sent two texts to reiterate that point.


I went to a lecture at U of M yesterday afternoon. I felt the need to explore more academic ideas than I've been doing at home.

Tonight I have a date, although I'm not entirely sure I'm going to go through with it. I am still very hurt by what the Canadian did, and I know I am not necessarily ready to get out

Tupperware Man and other stories

So, the revenge meeting person turned out to be very heavy into daily drug use.

I met another POF guy. His name - Joe. He has turned out to be obsessive and possessive. I'm not quite sure how to rid myself of him. The shit hit the fan yesterday, and I am trying like hell to distance myself from him as quickly as possible. I started calling him Tupperware man because he refuses to return some Tupperware of mine.

I went to meet someone in Windsor. I stopped to see Steve. He and I had a very calm and polite conversation. Part of me really misses him, even though I'm still hurt.

The new Windsor guy seems friendly...not interested in more than friendship, which is fine by me.

Went to meet a guy named Andy tonight. The meeting was friendly, but I had hoped there might be some sort of spark since he's a nice guy...never married, no kids. And he's cute....very cute.

A Dose of Reality

So, it's been a while since I wrote anything here. I've been seeing a Canadian guy for over a month now. He devastated me yesterday when I simply asked if he'd been with anyone else since we started dating.

He replied, "I don't want to hurt you, but yes, I have."

He said it just happened, almost like someone just wakes up hits the snooze bar or something. And it happened two wweeks ago with his ex-girlfriend. I'm so completely hurt.

I truly care for the guy, and I am trying to be mature about this. We aren't in an exclusive relationship. How do I just let something like that go and move on from it? I've been going on dates and I've kissed a few people, but that is definitely not the same thing as having sex with someone.

As revenge, I went back on plentyoffish and started talking to someone. I'm really glad I did. I ended up going to meet this really nice guy from Waterford. He's yet another father for the collection of fathers I have been seeing, but he's really down-to-earth and normal. He even understands that whole aneurysm thing. Part of it is his background in the medical field. The other is that his family is riddled with them. I could totally see going out with him again.

THe Life I Had Planned

Nothing ever works out the way one plans, and I am trying to surrender myself to this notion.

I truly believed I would be married by now - married to the man who has been the focus of the past ten years of my life. That ended.

I'm trying to get my bearings in this single world, and I've already made some mistakes, I'm afraid. I'm not sure what I should be doing.

The Downward Spiral

My fall from grace shall be a big one. I'm flirtatious and I feel as though I am bordering on crazy.

I went out to a club with someone who has become a very close friend over the past 4-5 years. While we have a tremendous friendship, I do realize that it looks bad that I am now hanging out in the social scene with him.

So, today my mother and father decided that I hadn't had enough verbal assaults, so they decided to make up for lost time. Apparently, I've just been sitting around, doing nothing for the past three months. They made it clear they don't like my attitude, that they think I'm a bitch, and that I am a complete burden. According to them, I am acting like a spoiled and stupid teenager.

I just really want to die. I've been making tremendous progress, but when they can't even try to be supportive people, what's the point of trying to prove anything further? I just want it all done. I want to no longer have to be a part of any of this.

And to think, this weekend started with so much promise. I'm still looking forward to tomorrow and the little bit of freedom Ryan will provide. My parents

Porcelain doll

Something doesn't feel right. I don't fit this helpless mold I'm expected to fit into. I wear out a lot more quickly than I have over teh past few months. I constantly feel as though I'm going to faint. I tell mhy parents and they do nothing. In fact, they tell me to just sit down and wait - as if that is going to help.

I haven't felt like I was falling apart since I was in the NICU back in March. I know my issue is most likely psychological, but it is still wearing me out. I was feeling pretty empowered when I started running again, so this slowed pace makes me want to just give up. I never accept giving up as an option, so I'm sure I'll push right through this...

I just wnat Monday to get here. Ryan is picking me up so that we can join the rest of our ukulele group in the Ann Arbor parade. Afterward, Ryan and I will be hanging out in Ann Arbor. I don't know what sort of shenanigans we'll get into, but a day out will be nice. I need more days out, away from my parents, away from therapy, away from the BS of recovering.

I am so irritated that I am still stuck at my parents' house. I hate it here. I hate that I have to rely on my parents to take me places, to buy me food, etc. This doesn't jive with the adult I became over a decade ago. And, unfortunately, I can't see an end any time soon. It needs to happen soon. This arrangement is making me want to kill myself. I don't see the point in sticking around if I can't have my life back.

Why am I hearing almost identical remakes of what were already great songs? I heard a remake of Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus today. I was disappointed that there was no attempt to make it "their own." Creativity can't be dead!

Remaining positive about life is difficult. My therapists say that this is common, but I don't really have a method to combat this....other than begging my friends to give me positive feedback and encouragement. I no longer have motivating brain chatter, and I miss it.

I find that I often just seek distractions from this silent and painful Hell.

I still cannot believe that I've had brain surgery...at 30!....at 30!!!

It's crazy because I had no symptoms for the HUGE time-bomb that was in my brain.

I am not you. You are not me. Truth be told. I barely feel like me now.

Boundaries

My mother does not understand the concept if boundaries. She barges into my room in the morning to lecture me on what she thinks I should do, think, or feel. I just want this to end.

Not sure why I feel so alone. It could be that not many people visit. It could be that no one can really relate to what Ive been through. I'm struggling with all of this

omeone suggested I repeat a mantra or something every morning. I think that idea is complete bullshit. I

Recollections - NICU & Rehab floors

I don't remember a lot of the neuro ICU. I screamed and cussed a lot. I had tubes everywhere, and nurses repeatedly had to put arm and leg restraints on me to keep me from pulling everything out. Unfortunately, the hospital staff decided to insert a catheter into my bladder while I was conscious. I fought the best I could, but they forced it in.

Lots of people visited, but I recall nothing of the visits.

The Rehab floor was slightly better, but I was still miserable. The medication didn't do anything to help me feel better. My vitals were checked constantly, especially once I had fallen asleep. The medication was typically in pill-form and didn't go down easily. The injections in the stomach (to prevent seizures, I think) were bad, but I was able to tolerate them toward the end of my hospital stay.

Therapy felt like torture, and I hated leaving my room for this regularly scheduled anguish. The diaper-lady roommate made me freak out about germs. The family was always around, and I felt crowded. I paced the halls a lot once I was allowed to use a cane.

I called a number of friends today, even though I knew most would be at work. I just needed contact with people.

It's Good to Hear Your oice

This is what I want people to say to me. I want to hear how you are happy I am still alive, that I am not just a memory, even though I may be in your memories.

Salt in the Wound

Lat week, Jeremy felt the need to make it clear to me that we are not and will never again be together. While I was aware that we weren't together, we were making progress prior to my hospitalization. I think his timing last week was bad - I am struggling to find solid ground on which to build myself back up, and having the proverbial rug pulled from under my feet was not helpful. I became very depressed and felt myself sink into the blankets and pillows on my bed. I cried for several hours.

Luckily, I have some really wonderful friends who keep picking me up and dusting me off. James made sure to hang out with me over the weekend. I really needed the time out and the supportive discussion. I wish there were words that could convey how thankful I am to him for being a good friend when i needed one.

Good Day

James picked me up and took me to Ann Arbor. We parked the car and walked through the Diag to my favorite place in Ann Arbor. We talked about relationships, recovery, pain, and work.

We stoppedd for sandwiches at Amer's - my favorite sandwich shop in that entire city. I was thrilled to be conversing with such a good friend, but even more thrilled that I recovered a memory of the day prior to my aneurysm rupture - an entire day that has become a gap in my memory. I recalled where I was sitting when hanging out with Wes on March 13th. I didn't neceesarily need that memory to move forward with my life, but I wselcomed it, nonetheless.

James an I then went to a book store where I vowed to NOT buy "bargain books."

We walked down Main Street, and then headed to my condo in Ann Arbor to check on my cats. We talked for a couple of hours, which was really nice. I like that he doesn't expect me to be exactly who I was prrior to this whole nightmare. Eventually, he brought me back to my parents' house where we watched the tail end of the baseball game.

All-inall, it was probably the best day I've had since waking up after surgery.