Archive for August, 2012

New Day? Is It Even Possible?

Posted: August 31, 2012 in gay lesbian, lesbian, life lessons, love, self-help
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Everyone always says to me, “Keep your chin up, tomorrow is a new day.” I’ve always tried to listen to this advice but lately it just seems like too much to do. First of all, tomorrow really ISN’T a new day, because all the shit I did wrong yesterday still comes back to haunt me.

Sometimes I find out that I”m doing things wrong when I thought I was doing things right. Sometimes all the trying just wears me out in a way that is so exhausting that I wonder why I keep trying or why I even get out of bed some days at all. I lay my neck out under the guillotine and I bare my soul. It seems like I get zero points for that from anyone, but I get called to the carpet for other things. I feel like the little kid who made breakfast for mom and dad and instead of them being happy with me, I get grounded for destroying the kitchen in the process. Today…I’m Eeyore. I’m feeling sorry for myself. I’m entitled once in a while. Get over it.

Last night I couldn’t sleep. At 1am I looked at the clock. I got up, got a drink of water, sat at the table and gazed out at the moonlight. Tried to go lay back down. At 2:30am, I was back up to pee and wander back out to the table. I put my head on the table, exhausted but still cannot sleep. I prayed. Oh yeah, this is when God and I get very in depth when it comes to my life. My mind is working overtime and my gut is telling me something is in the air. I try to lay down again. At 4am, I give up and sit at the table with sweat trickling down my chest, the back of my head is wet because it is so hot. I hate it. I’m itchy from the mosquitoes. My legs are scraped to the point of bleeding and I’m sure there will be scars….all from mosquitoes this year. Nothing is going right. NOTHING.

I go back to bed. At 4:45 I looked at my watch but that is the last thing I remember, until 8am. Promptly at 8am, the yard crew decides to start weed-eating and edging right in front of MY house. Sitting straight-up in my bed, I glare at the man outside my window who is unknowingly making my life hell at this very moment. He doesn’t even notice me. Story of my life.

I was FINALLY asleep and even actually dreaming. Now this man has become the object of my disdain, but it really isn’t him. It’s my life. I fell and hurt myself yesterday. Getting up this morning hurts like hell. My toe feels possibly broken. My ass hurts from landing hard. My knee is stiff and sprained and my ankle is a little puffy. No one asked me today how I feel.

I get to the main computer room at the park to find that the internet is out and I have to ride my bike 5 miles to the library if I want to use the internet. I need to, because I’ve been instructed to do some things by someone who is somewhat pissed at me. So…I go. I do what I need to do, because she’s right and I was wrong and again, I’m paying for yesterday’s stupidity and wondering when – if ever – that I’m going to get things right. I try…I really do. Things just don’t seem to work out for me.

I refuse to be an angry person anymore. I won’t let that eat me alive one more day. In it’s place though is this huge void. The part of me that was once filled with so much rage is just sort of ‘empty’ now. I don’t know how to describe it. I’m frustrated but far from angry. I am looking for answers and reasons, looking for the things that are going to help me fill that void. I get exasperated because some days it feels like for every step I take forward, I take two steps back.

This morning, I got smacked back into reality. Again, two steps back. I feel like I should have stayed in bed today…I don’t have any fight left in me.  I feel like the air has been sucked right out of my lungs and that that I am slowly suffocating in my mistakes from yesterday. I’m fighting through the jungle to get to the open clearing where my redemption awaits…only right now I feel that the bugs and the exhaustion are going to kill me before I get there.  Feeling pretty hopeless and defeated right this moment.

Tomorrow is a new day, right? <bangs head on wall>

 

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Divide and Conquer, Since the Beginning of Time

Posted: August 28, 2012 in American government, equal rights, gay lesbian, life lessons, Politics, self-help
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I sit and listen to conversations around me. I watch the news almost every day, because it is on the television in the room where I work. Each day, my facebook page is riddled with republican comments, democrat comments, religious views versus anti-religious views. The glbtq community uses it to pass along things that outrage them. Hate groups and those who have been labeled as hate groups, use the same social medias to do the same thing.

Yesterday, it occurred to me that all of the disagreements have been fabricated by the world around us. What YOU believe is a direct result of what you have been taught. What you were taught is directly related to where you went to school, what religion you were raised in and the church that your family attended, if you went to church.

WHO CONTROLS THOSE PLACES? 

In this country, we talk about trickle down economics, but what about ‘trickle down policies?’ Does it really ever cross your mind that your opinions have been bought and paid for many times over by the machine that really runs this country? From the time you were a child, you’ve been forced to choose a side. You have been GROOMED to choose a side in a battle that really doesn’t matter, unless you are someone at the top of the food chain, struggling to stay in charge.

Politics has been drilled into your head from the time you were old enough to study history. Your church has taught you what THEY considered important, not necessarily what the bible even says. Teachings are taken out of context, the word of God is skewed to serve the purposes of the church, and those who control said church. Now, I’m not trying to pick on any church in particular, but the Catholic church is one that comes to mind. They are extremely wealthy and powerful. The pope is considered one of the most powerful people in the world. Catholic schools teach their own agenda and don’t have to meet any specific guidelines in many cases.

As I said, this is just an example. There are plenty of other religions who do this very same thing. We are also seeing, here in the US, that the lines between church and state are becoming more and more blurred. There is no clear separation of church and state anymore.

WHY IS THIS SUCH A PROBLEM?

Churches are now running politics in ways that they never have at any other time in history. It is well known and common knowledge that “right wing politics” has become the political choice for those who are extremely religious. The issue with this, as I see it and hope that you will too, is that these same people are also not independent thinkers. They have done nothing to actually “prove” their beliefs or to investigate the claims of their ‘false prophets’ that spoon feed them what they should believe and how they should behave.

Our politicians have become puppets to churches, corporations and even to other countries! China owns most of New York City at this point. Our jobs have been sent over seas. The economy and increased percentage of jobs in China has gone up by over 7%.  This is ironic when our jobs have decreased by almost this same amount. Wouldn’t you agree?

Wall Street led us into economic devastation because they were allowed to do so. Those at the top of the food chain got greedy. I believe that they also honestly felt that they would never get caught, becoming rich on the backs of middle class Americans. The poor suffer daily so that the wealthy can be wealthier. This has not changed. Not even since the bail-out that was supposed to help things. While corporations didn’t go out of business, it didn’t save millions of  people from going into foreclosure. It didn’t save small business owners from losing the family business that had been the heart, soul and center of their family pride for 50 years.

The struggling dentist with a new practice, loans for equipment, supplies that are over-priced by these larger companies and struggling to pay bills that are sometimes three times the amount of money that comes in each month, is still faced with patients who feel services are over-priced. Yet this dentist is struggling to make ends meet. “Trickle down economics” doesn’t work. Helping people at the top of the food chain with tax-cuts and bail-outs doesn’t help. The middle class people are the ones who SPEND money.

If Washington gave the middle class a stimulus that was handed-out to each family of a few thousand dollars, ALL of that money would go right back into the economy in their local markets. 100% of these people would pay bills that are behind, buy food, school supplies, take their kids to the zoo, pay the insurance policy that they couldn’t afford before, etc. Some of them would just go out and be frivolous with the money. They’d get their hair done, get a manicure, visit the spa for a day, take the kids to the movies or take a family vacation. THAT IS WHAT STIMULUS IS!! It gets people to spend money!

What stimulus is not – giving those who really don’t need the money a tax break, giving them loans at reduced rates when they don’t need them or giving the money that they aren’t going to spend because they already have the monthly bill money that they need. The amount they are going to spend next month is the same and that stimulus money is sitting in a bank drawing interest for them now…instead of creating a job for an out of work father with three kids that all need new shoes for school. His wife would like to get a job, but the cost of daycare outweighs what she’d bring in, so she stays home with the kids while dad works two jobs, just to feed them all … if he can find two jobs.

WE’RE BEING USED, DIVIDED, and CONQUERED BY OUR OWN GOVERNMENT

The arguments about gay marriage, the war on women, a woman’s right to choose….etc; they have all become distractions. They are all important causes…but they are MADE causes by politicians who want to see us divided by these issues! As long as the American people are busy fighting each other and playing into their hands, we lose sight of the real issue. We have lost our country. We no longer have control. Politicians and that 1% that you keep hearing about, at the top of the food chain, have taken away most of your rights and they have pulled the wool over your eyes. While you’ve been busy learning to hate each other over differences that God doesn’t truly care about, because He wants you to all love each other, your government has been working behind the scenes. They’ve orchestrated these events. They have made all of you into puppets.

It’s been a bait and switch game since the beginning of time. In civilized society, those at the top have played the people against each other in order to serve their own purposes. We fight, they get what they want. We judge each other, churches get more tithes and donations. The Church of the Latter Day Saints is one of the richest churches in the US. Yet, they are one of the newest religions in the world. Mitt Romney is a Mormon. I believe that his ties to that church, that is so very powerful and wealthy, could be catastrophic for America.

I feel that We the People, need to start trying to get along and realize when our leaders are practicing this divisiveness. We need to be able to stand together as AMERICANS, whether we are black, white, hispanic, straight, gay, Baptist, Protestant, Catholic or atheist, republican, democrat, liberal, independent, green party or tea party member. WE ARE ALL AMERICANS and we are being robbed of our country. We are playing into their games like a bunch of idiots and we should be mad as hell.  It’s time to start loving and accepting each other and start fighting back against the REAL bullies, Washington politicians! You are being used. Wake-up, Americans.

Butch Sexology II About to Launch- Do You Want Your Business In It?

Posted: August 23, 2012 in equal rights, erotica, Free Books, gay lesbian, lesbian, love
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Skye Isono, model and aspiring actress. Skye will be the star on the cover of Butch Sexology II – The REALLY Naughty Stuff!

Hello everyone! I have an interesting proposition for you. In my new book, which is pretty much complete, I am going to offer “product placement” within the stories. If you have a business, a product, a website, a place of business or anything that you’d like to advertise in my book for ABSOLUTELY FREE, then leave a comment below on how you can either give me a link back to my books, advertise for me or whatever you can dream up!

I’m not talking about a list of links in the back of the book! I’m talking about actually writing you into the story somewhere, so that you are 100% guaranteed that anyone who reads the book is going to see you. If they are reading on Kindle, they can click right over to you from the book! How great is that for your business??

You’re links will be LIVE in my Kindle version. This is a unique way to market your products without having to spend any advertising dollars. There is virtually no risk to you at all. Pitch me your idea and sell me on your product, service or whatever! I can’t add ALL people’s stuff, so you’ll have to really sell me on your ideas. Maybe I get a free product or something. Maybe you give me a permanent link on your site. After all, you’re going to be in my book FOREVER!

How many people are going to see this? Well, the FIRST book has only been out for 90 days and has been downloaded and sold to 1175 people! I fully expect the follow-up book to outsell the first. I expect sales to be well over 7000 copies in the first year alone.

The photo shoot is happening in Texas this week for the cover art. I’m so excited! Skye Isono is a great model and this cover is going to have a butch, a femme and a motorcycle! This is a combination for HOTNESS! I guarantee that this book is going to make the last one look entirely too tame.

Would you like to get a free autographed copy of the book when it comes out? Follow me on Twitter for a chance to win! Look to the left for the link to my Twitter account! I’ll be choosing one person a week for the first four weeks after the book launches, to get a free autographed copy! Tweet me! RT me! Who wants that book? ;)

The Breaking of a Person; Rebuilding Something Better

Posted: August 19, 2012 in abuse, ADHD, child abuse, life lessons, love, self-help
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You really need to watch and listen to the video to get the entirety of this blog. I haven’t written much lately. I’ve been lost in my own world. I’ve been facing some demons. I hide my fights, I share so much with you all…but I hide the truths, I hide the realities and maybe because I have never known them? I’m sharing my life through this blog, but I’ve censored and I’ve told half truths and it’s possible that the reason is because I’ve lost so many pieces of myself along the way, that I don’t know who I am anymore?

THE HARD TRUTH

The reality is that I was an abused child. My mother fucked me up pretty good. I was six months old the first time she slapped me across the face, by her own admission. The truth is that I’ve never faced it, never gotten over it and never even opened the door to deal with it. Like a taproot, this pain of my life branched-out to every single part of the rest of my life. Even when I thought I had run far enough away, it still always caught-up to me. I didn’t know just how much it had taken me over and how much of it was actually making my decisions, breathing life into thoughts that were negative and destroying me one day at a time.

I’ve made a life of running. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known to do. The instinct now is to run, run, run.  The fact is that you cannot run from yourself…but you absolutely can be absent from your own life. Living in the past and worrying about tomorrow has robbed me of so much.

RUNNING FROM MY DEMONS

Here’s a truth. I went into the woods to hide in a cabin because I couldn’t face reality and I didn’t want to face myself anymore. As long as I didn’t have to look people in the eye, then I didn’t have to see myself reflected in their eyes. Again, I was hiding. I’ve done it my whole life. I’ve suffered from insomnia, depression, ADHD that has very similar symptoms as bipolar only without the excessive episodes of mania. I still have the mental confusion, the inability to make decisions, the absolute bombardment of my senses and the mind that must stay busy at all times.

I’m agoraphobic. Sometimes just the thought of leaving the house can cause me to have panic and anxiety. What does that feel like? It feels like an elephant jumping a rope on your chest and convinces you from time to time that this is the ‘big one’ and you’re dying. It feels like the devil himself has a grip on your neck and you can feel your windpipe being crushed by an invisible hand and it comes with no warning.

I’ve fallen asleep with my face on a computer keyboard and woke-up the next day with the impression of keys on my face. Insomnia and a busy brain causes me to go until I’m so exhausted that I want to just die. I want medication. I can’t get it. I fall through the cracks. I’m that person that you read about who borders on the edge of just holding on and loosing it all at any time.

When I was a child, I used to do really odd things…acting out the pains that I understand now but didn’t then. I used to pull my own hair out. It’s called trichtotillomania. Sometimes trichotillomania occurs in kids who have anxiety, major depression, obsessive-compulsive disorder, or Tourette’s disease, according to this article at about.com.

I also did other things. I used to steal small handfuls of fine gravel from the driveway. I would find somewhere on our property to hide from my mother and my brothers, who tormented me daily, and I’d actually pour the gravel on top of my head. I’d sit for hours, as long as I could stay hidden, and I’d just rub the pieces on my head. It felt good. It was some ‘feeling’ other than what I felt all the time. Who knows if there were other psychological reasons?

My mother insisted on giving me a bath until I was more than ten years old. The older I got, the more ashamed I felt. I’d beg and ask to take a shower on my own and she’d tell me no. “You won’t get your hair clean enough,” was one of her favorite excuses. It wasn’t until I was almost 38 years old and in therapy that I realized how dirty it made me feel and I had memories of being “touched” that, to me, were horribly inappropriate. You try not to believe your own memories about this sort of stuff. It was locked away for so many years. I still remember the look the therapist gave me when it came out. She knew I was not ready to deal with it, I think…but the look she gave me told me that it was real, it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me.

To top it all off, every evening after my bath, it ended with me standing in the kitchen as she raked a comb through my hair, pulling through tangles so hard that I’d cry. She would normally end-up slapping me for crying and the wads of hair in the comb looked like a dog was being groomed. I remember her pulling the handfuls of hair from the comb and piling them on the kitchen counter until she was finished. It felt like she was keeping trophies. She insisted on keeping my hair long. I hated it and I begged to get my hair cut short.

I even have a very vivid memory from 2 yrs of age, and sleeping next to my mother. I was terrified. I was terrified of her and I was quietly biting my finger nails and I could taste the blood in my mouth from biting them to the quick. To this day, I have issues with my nails. I quit for periods of time and then it always comes back.

Whenever she was mad at me for most anything, she’d grab my hair and drag me. I got dragged from room to room, from chair to feet … sometimes it was just a great thing to hold me by so I could be hit with something in her other hand. I’ve been hit with toy race car tracks, plastic hair brushes, wooden yard sticks, broomsticks, mop handles, wooden spoons and so many other things that I don’t even remember. After a while, you shut it out. It’s nature’s way of protecting you I guess?

In all honesty though, the real hell for me was figuring out when she was going to hate me and when she was going to love me. I never knew. She’d hurt me, either with her mouth or her hands, and I would hate her. Then she’d turn around and want to make up. She’d invite me to come and sit next to her and put her arm around me and pull me close and tell me that she loved me…but that I should make her mad. I still remember that in those moments, I felt like I had a mother. I wanted the hugs and so the abuse became a means to an end in so many ways. The only way I got the acceptance was to endure the anger. I felt hated by her half the time and loved the other half and it left me confused, scared, too frightened to sleep sometimes, walking on eggshells most of my childhood and even praying to God that I was adopted sometimes. I couldn’t fathom that she could be my real mother. I used to talk to God a lot back then.

BREAKING DOWN

Have you ever done something that you wished you could take back but you couldn’t? Ever had a behavior that you wanted to change more than anything in this world but couldn’t figure out how? Keep making the same mistakes over and over?

Fast forward about 20 years. My parents have both been dead now for 16 and 14 years, respectively. In that 16 years, I’ve been angry at God for robbing me of my parents too soon. I’ve been angry at the universe for making me have to deal with things on my own. I’ve been pissed-off that my mother took diet pills and smoked while pregnant and passed on her genetic crap to me. I’ve looked for somewhere to place my anger. I’ve directed a lot of it at myself. The path of destruction is in my wake. I’ve screwed things up, I’ve sabotaged what should have been good things and successful stories in my life. I’ve punished myself and carried guilt and anger like a backpack that weighs a hundred pounds.

In March of this year, I met someone really nice online. We talked and talked, mostly by IMing and we used to talk until late into the night. We gradually got to a point where we talked via Skype. Our conversations were almost always long and really good. She shared things with me that meant a lot to her and were personal; things that were hard for her to explain and talk about. She also happens to have a habit of asking questions and being very matter of fact. She sees through bullshit and doesn’t always let things go. She asked me questions, made me look at myself and really made me very angry. I lashed out at her and I hurt her with some very venomous words about her and her life. I know now that it was only because I felt so shitty about my own. Still, the damage was done.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I had only done it that ONE time. I’ve lost my grip another couple of times and while it hasn’t been leveled at her in quite as personal assault, it has still been pretty terrible on my part. This last time it happened, we didn’t speak for 3o days. SHE SHOULD HAVE WALKED AWAY FROM ME.  Instead, she still reached out to me and her first words are always “R u okay?” I have absolutely no clue how she can do that. I really don’t. She shouldn’t care about me at all. I’ve chased everyone else away in 20 years….why does she come back? Truth is that we actually have a lot similarity in our pasts, though not the same. Both of our childhoods were tragic in many ways.

Sitting on my porch, alone, I had an epiphany about why she cares and why I do the things I do. I realized that I’ve NEVER been honest with one single person. I’ve hidden all the things that really matter. I realized that here was this person who honestly cares and I owe it to her to be honest with her. I realized that I could actually trust her … even when she hadn’t been able to trust me. I began opening myself up to her and telling truths where I normally would have covered things up or not talked about what was real. I have tried very hard to lay myself wide open and it hasn’t been easy. What has happened is that I’ve opened all these other doors.

Twenty years of crap is all coming out now because I cracked the door open and now I can’t shut it. Everything is flying at my face, assailing me at all hours of the day and night. I keep having these “ah-ha” moments and they come with goosebumps, anger, release and exhaustion.

She questioned me about my belief in God. I never talk about it. I’ve called myself an atheist…but when it comes right down to it, I cannot actually own that. I tiptoe around it and say that I am spiritual. She presses me. This makes no sense to her. I am squirming. Again, she’s making me face something. Painful but necessary. I finally admit that I’ve been angry with God for many years. I’m gay, I’ve got a learning disability, my parents are dead and died too young, I have no family … as far as I am concerned, God turned his back on me and I am like child angry at a parent. I told her this. It was sort of “news to me” in a way. Once it started coming out, it just became so clear to me though. It was another door that opened.

Perhaps the biggest realization of all was a few days later? I was thinking about all these things. My mind has been consumed with it all lately. I’m suddenly realizing so much. I feel like I’ve been living the last twenty years blind as a bat. I was thinking about God and thinking about how to get better … needing and wanting to heal myself and become whole. Like a shudder, it came over me as if a voice spoken from above and I have to say that it may be the only time in my entire life that I feel like God spoke to me. My parents died almost twenty years ago not to punish me, but to save me. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I had been given my life back almost twenty years ago and I could almost feel God ask me why I had wasted all this time?

NOW WHAT?

This is the biggest question of all. I did something that I have never done as an adult. I prayed and asked God to take care of it for me. I’ve been withdrawn and I think it may get worse before it gets better. I wish that this was the only thing in my life going on right now, but it isn’t.

I’m on the verge of losing everything because work has been slow. My books are doing well, but I won’t see the first royalty payment until September. I’ve been watching a little red tag swinging on the utility box for far too long now and have even stooped to the point of applying for food stamps because I’ve been hungry too many times in my life and it scares me. I don’t even want to talk about the lot rent. Ugh.

Still, I know a few things. 1) I know that there is someone that I can tell everything to and she isn’t going to judge me, hate me or run away from me. She’s still a little scared to totally trust me and I understand, but I’m positive that eventually she will see that what I’ve just gone through emotionally, spiritually and psychologically has changed me a lot.  2) I know that my past does NOT have to steal one more minute of my life because my focus has shifted, thanks to an awakening that has taken place inside of me.  3) I know that I don’t have any anger in me anymore…it seems to have left like an unwanted guest and left me very tired and exhausted in it’s wake. 4) I know that I have a long, long way to go. Nothing is going to be easy but most things worth having aren’t easy anyway. I feel like I just started seeing my life in color instead of in black and white. 5) I’ve spent my life running from things and this time, I’m not going to run.

The ADHD DJ and Welcome To My Nervous Breakdown…

Posted: August 11, 2012 in Uncategorized
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This morning, as I opened my eyes, I was aware of two things. The first, the cat was staring at me. The second, “Knights In White Satin” was playing in my head. Loudly. I wonder if the cat could hear it too? I lay there wondering if the whole song is going to play thru or not. It keeps skipping at the same part…”letters I’ve written, never meaning to send”. Why? There is a DJ in my head and he’s trying to tell me something I think?

I picture a little dude that looks like Deepak Chopra, with a baseball hat on backwards, headphones and a turntable. He’s occupying space in my head and sometimes he just fucks with me. The messages are cryptic. They leave me feeling nuts. Maybe I am? Maybe I shouldn’t be telling you all this. Note to self…if I see anything that looks like men with a white coat, AVOID them. Cargo vans are also suspect. “Never meaning to send….”

The cat is meowing. I’m grumpy. I hiss at him. He gets that and exits the bathroom with his tail high in the air. I let my head fall against the wall. “just what the truth is, I can’t say anymore….” Suddenly I am singing out loud…still on the toilet. “Some tried to tell me…thoughts they cannot defend”…”and I love you…..yes, I love you…oh how I love you”….banging head on the wall in time with the beat, imaginary though it may be. Breathe – just breathe. Imagining myself smacking little Deepak upside the head.

Feed the cats, Feed the dog, open the door and let the dog go out to pee. I walk out with him. Halfway to the pond I realize I’m only wearing boxer shorts. No pants. Oh well…fuck ‘em if they can’t take a joke. The dog is squatting and he looks like this is getting hard for him. He’s so old. “just what the truth is…I can’t say anymore….”

We’re back at the house. I’m going to take a hot shower. I’m going to use the campers showers…the water never runs out. I decide that I’m still not going to put pants on. I walk to the shower in my underwear. They’re boxers…not like anything is hanging out either.

Turning the water on. I’m still itchy. I turn it up as high as I can stand the heat. It helps. My back hurts. I can barely bend over. I realize I’m no better off than the dog. My bed is too hard. Maybe if I didn’t ride my bike everywhere with a 30# pack on my back I’d feel better? The hot water feels so good as it runs down over my shoulders. “Knights in white satin, never reaching the end…..letters I’ve written, never meaning to send…” I wonder if the letters are my life? I write my life…I never send the letters…wait…no…they’re letters to MYSELF. That’s it isn’t it? My life is one long letter to myself!

Lil’ Deepak scratches the record as he brings it to a halt. A second of silence. Suddenly the music switches. Matchbox 20 is announcing, “I’m not crazy I’m just a little unwell”….  Son of a bitch.

 

 

 

 

Five Minutes of ADHD

Posted: August 10, 2012 in life lessons, love, self-help
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Everything is in pieces. It’s always been that way.

For anyone with ADD, ADHD or other learning disability. No one understands. People can’t see your issue. People tell you they understand when they don’t. They forget. If you’re a parent, your children will be judged, labeled, medicated and treated like they are just bad. I have ADHD.

From http://www.livestrong.com:

A person with ADHD might have problems expressing himself or communicating with others as a result of the presence of other undiagnosed mental health problems. People with ADHD commonly have co-existing mental health disorders that include, but are not limited to, learning disorders, autism spectrum disorders and mood disorders. While having ADHD itself will impact a person’s ability to communicate, the presence of any of these other disorders will also impede a person’s normal communication skills. 

My Morning:

It was dark this morning when I woke-up. I’d only been asleep a few hours. That damned John Mayer song is playing in my head again. Shut the fuck up, John! Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?? I don’t know what time it is. Where’s my watch. I always sleep with my watch on, why not last night? Oh…that’s right, I’ve been itchy. I was scratching … where did I take it off?

Geesh, I’m itchy. I wish I didn’t bite my nails, then I could scratch better. Where is that metal ruler I used the other night to scratch my back..it’s here somewhere. I feel around in the dark. There it is. I scratch my back and eventually end with my legs. I wonder if it is possible to scrape a hole in my leg? I’m probably bleeding. I can’t see. It’s dark. I should be more careful, I’m diabetic. These scratches and bites could really get infected. Well, maybe I’m not really diabetic anymore. My readings have been normal recently. Wait…when was the last time I checked? I really haven’t been eating very well lately. I think I want donuts for breakfast. I haven’t had donuts in a really long time. I want coffee too. Where can I get that? I really should look for my test kit. 

John…shut-up…seriously. Maybe if I take a hot shower this itching will stop? Captain is sitting there staring at me now. God, what a good dog he is. I know he wonders why in the hell I’m scratching like this. Fucking Florida bugs. At least I haven’t seen any roaches. I really hate roaches. “Okay, Cappy…let me get your breakfast.” He really is a good boy…he’s dancing down the hallway now. He really would like Karma. Sigh. Doubt that’s going to happen. 

I reach for the dog food, the cat starts crying. I grab the cat food instead. The dog sighs. John is still singing. I’m still wondering if hot water will help.  I’ve been awake 5 or 10 minutes. Where IS my friggin’ watch??

People don’t understand me. I’m used to it. It doesn’t hurt any less. It just is. I have autistic tendencies at times. I have auditory processing issues. I get agoraphobic and have panic attacks when I’m in crowds. I have a soundtrack that plays in my head all the time, 24 hours a day. I assume it plays in my sleep, it plays all day long and is there first thing when I open my eyes. I have a tendency to get depressed, because of all the other issues. The doctor calls it “situational depression”, slaps a prescription in my hands and pats me on the back on the way out the door. I’ve learned “detachment” in self-defense. I walk away. Isn’t the first time, probably won’t be the last. It doesn’t hurt any less. It just is.

What You Are

Posted: August 8, 2012 in gay lesbian, lesbian, life lessons, love, self-help
Tags: , , , , ,
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Love is made of many things. It isn’t always pretty, but it IS always unique. Photo courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

You have it in your head that you aren’t what I want or need. You’ve listened to what I have said and/or written about what I want in a woman. Of all the times to listen to what I am saying, you choose that? Oh my love, let me tell you what I think about you and what you mean to me…let’s talk about what you are.

I wish my soul had a zipper installed so I could just open myself up. Then you’d be able to peek inside and you’d know that what I am about to say to you is true.

When I look into your eyes, I see my world reflected back at me, with a new hope that I never had before. Every breath I have ever breathed in my entire life has brought me here to you. I feel that I’ve arrived somewhere that I was supposed to be all along. It isn’t a place, it isn’t a thing or a particular accomplishment; its simply being at your side and a feeling that this is where I belong.

When you speak to me, I admit it … I’m guilty of not always hearing the words you are saying. I’m overwhelmed with the sounds coming from you and I hear your emotions instead of the words. This isn’t always good, but I feel that it’s my soul trying desperately to hear the song coming from your soul. I hear your sadness, your fears, your insecurities and your worries, even when your words try to tell me something different. In and of itself, this isn’t so bad but what gets to me is knowing that you are doing the very same thing to me because our souls are speaking a language to each other and you and I are just following along in a strange dance that we no longer have any control of.

It’s true. You know it is. No matter what has happened between us, we find ourselves back where we are supposed to be … next to each other. You make me crazy, and you calm me down all at the same time. You find a way to make me feel loved, even when you don’t say it … I know. I hear all the words that you do not say. Your eyes tell me all that I need to know. I see you searching my own for meaning, for acceptance and for understanding. Your eyes plead with my own from time to time. What do they say? “Give me what I need to trust you. Please.”

You’re right. You aren’t any of those things on my list. You challenge me, you question me, you say and do things on a regular basis that force me to look at myself and it is sometimes painful. At best, it is uncomfortable. You are amazing. You look at me and you see me and you still keep coming back. You are crazy. You are beautiful. I don’t understand you. I love you. I’m afraid of you. I trust you with my life. I want you. I run from you. I’m terrified. I’m happier than I have ever been in my entire life.

You want me to hold you. You tell me you aren’t ready yet. You dream about me. You tell me that you want to be alone. You close your eyes and imagine that I am there with you, don’t you? When I ask to be with you, you make excuses for why the time isn’t right or the trust isn’t there yet. I imagine that you are next to me every night when I go to bed. We are exactly alike. We couldn’t be more different. Just shut-up and hold me. Let me hold you. Don’t tell me you love me. See if I care. I know you do. I know you want me to touch you. I want to hold your hand. I want to touch your face. I want it all. I want you.

Baby girl, I’m content to take our time but I remind you that any time that we waste, we will never get back. Don’t keep me away from you if you want me there. Don’t deny me the chance to be with you and offer you comfort when you need it. Don’t give us any reasons to build any more regrets. Don’t forgive me right this instant. That’s okay. Just stop persecuting me for yesterday and making today suffer. Let me be there today and let yesterday fade in time. Tomorrow will work itself out. I’ll say it again. You need say nothing, just reach for me and you’ll find me there.

I Want to Be Naked With You

Posted: August 6, 2012 in lesbian, life lessons, love
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I’ve tried to write the perfect thing for you today. I’ve struggled for three hours to put the perfect words on paper. I can’t. This photo says it perfectly. I want to be naked with you like this. I trust you with this now. It took me time and for that I’m sorry, but I get things now and I trust you like I’ve never trusted anyone with my heart. Please, take care with it, take things slow with me this time and let’s do this right. Let’s be kids together, let’s have fun and refuse to grow-up. Spend the next 20 years laughing with me. Lay with me in the silence sometimes … just being happy to be together and have another chance. Let me look into your eyes and revel in my love for you. Let me watch you walk out of the room and fall in love with you all over again every time you walk back in the room. I promise that I will. I already do.

Let me hold you when the world closes in around you. I want to be strong when you need that. I have two shoulders that belong to you and only you. You don’t have to say a word, just reach for me. I will always be there to wrap you up in my arms and tell the rest of the world that you are on break. Someday, you will trust me and we will both trust each other.

I have no words for the way you make me feel. I only know that I love you, I want you and I’m not going to spend one more minute pushing you away, being afraid of you or not allowing you “in”. Woman, you humble me, you make my heart skip beats, you move me to tears, I dream about you. I’m yours. All in.

Butch Sexology II Coming This Month!

Posted: August 3, 2012 in equal rights, erotica, Free Books, gay lesbian, lesbian
Tags: , , , , , , ,
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Here is a sneak peek at my newest book, coming out in just a few short weeks! WARNING! This is sexually explicit, lesbian erotica. Do not read if you are offended. This book covers more ground than the last book. I deliberately included some material that is sometimes considered taboo. This particular story includes fisting and is not necessarily going to appeal to everyone. To my fans, I believe that it will. Your comments are welcome.

 

The original Butch Sexology.

 

 

 Not In A Million Years

There I was, sitting at the bar on a Thursday night. It was raining outside and the bar had a normal crowd. It was fairly busy but nothing like the weekends. I liked sitting at the far end because I could see everyone coming and going. I could sit and drink my beer and admire the eye candy as it walked in the door; it was the perfect spot.

In they walked, the three of them talking amongst themselves, giggling and carrying on. I noticed them right away. Hell, I couldn’t miss them. The three of them were very ‘girly’ with dresses, purses, heels, make-up and looking like proper ladies out on the prowl.

Not being at the bar for purposes of picking someone up, I was not immediately inclined to show any interest. However, I couldn’t help but notice the lady in the black dress. She was wearing pantyhose and spiked heels. Her dark brown hair was long and wavy and it fell in front of her shoulders, coming to rest on her breasts that were accentuated by the low-cut dress that she was wearing. I was a sucker for long hair.

As I watched them come in and take a table, she glanced towards me and I immediately smiled but didn’t hold my stare. Instead, I gave a nod to go with my smile and promptly ordered another beer from the bartender, as I looked away. I never liked to be too forward.

I watched the women sit and chat, laughing and having a good time. A few times, they got up and danced together, the way that groups of women so often do. I maintained my post on my bar stool. They weren’t going anywhere. The night went on and they had more to drink and so did I.

At about 11pm, she finally wandered to the bar to order herself a drink. She came and stood almost close enough to touch my arm at the bar. I smiled at her and she smiled at me. She spoke, “I haven’t seen you move all night. You can’t be having much fun!”

“Oh sure I am. I have the best seat in the house. I can see everything that is going on from right here. I see who walks in and I know when beautiful ladies are at the bar to get another drink,” I smiled at her as I spoke.

She giggled at my open flirtation. “I’m April,” she grinned as she held out her hand.

“I’m Casey, nice to meet you,” I took her hand and gave her my best smile. I didn’t offer to remove my hand all too quickly and she allowed her hand to linger a few moments as I continued speaking with her. “So, are you and your friends out celebrating something? You’re awfully dressed-up for this bar.”

“No, we’re just out having a good time. It’s our ‘ladies’ night out,” she was still smiling. I could see her looking at my hair. She finally withdrew her hand when the bartender came to take her order.

As she waited for her drink I touched the chair next to me, “Why don’t you have a seat. Those heels can’t be too comfortable.”

She sat but protested, “Oh, they aren’t that bad. You get used to them. I only get sore after I’ve been dancing too long.”

“You mean like tonight?”, I grinned at her.

“Okay, you got me there. Yes, fine … I’ll admit it. My feet are freaking killing me!” With that she burst out laughing and I laughed with her. When the laughter stopped there was a moment of silence that was filled with tension as the chemistry between us was becoming clear.

The bartender interrupted, right on cue but she did not leave immediately. She lingered a moment and took a sip of her cocktail. She was drinking a white Russian. “Mmmm…that’s yummy.”

“I love those when I’m in the mood.” I looked into her eyes. They were brown. In fact they were so dark brown that they almost looked black, especially in the dimly lit bar at this hour of the night. “There’s a lot of things I love when I’m in the mood.”

Now she blushed. Even in the near dark, I could see the blood rush to her face and neck and begin to work it’s way down her chest towards her cleavage, which I now took the opportunity to take a good look at. She just giggled a nervous giggle. Still, she hadn’t left.

I stood from my bar stool and held my hand out to her, “Wanna dance?”

“Sure,” she replied and sat her drink next to mine.

“Gotta take your shoes off too,” I grinned at her.

“What? NO! I couldn’t do that,” she gasped wide-eyed.

“Okay, well then you have to agree to let me rub your feet afterward.” Now she didn’t know what to say. She stammered for a moment but I didn’t give her a chance to answer. I took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

We danced for three songs, getting progressively flirtatious as things went along. Alcohol and music tends to have that effect. When we were getting hot and sweaty it was time to head back to our drinks.

As she picked her drink up from the bar she smiled at me and said, “I really suppose I should go check-in with my friends.” She glanced towards the table where her girlfriends were sitting. They were looking at her and waving. She waved back to them as if to say, “I’m coming!”

Before she walked away, I smiled, “Well now, don’t be a stranger. You know which end of the bar to get your drinks at now.”

“Yes, I do.” She walked away and grinned from ear to ear. When she got back to her table, I could see them all gather in a gaggle and start talking. I knew they were getting the scoop on what was going on and I thought it was funny.

I tried not to let them know I was watching out of the corner of my eye, but they probably knew. Femmes seem to know that stuff. There isn’t really much hiding from a femme once she has you on her radar. That’s fine because once a butch has you on his radar, you’re either going to give in or have to run. He isn’t going to give up. Most butches will admit that the thrill of the chase is half the fun.

As the hour grew late and things were winding down, I decided that it was time to make a move. I approached their table and had my keys in my hand. “Are you girls going to go out and get some breakfast? It’s sort of tradition for most of the people at this bar to go hit the Perkins that’s open all night down the street.”

They all looked at each other. April looked at her friends hopefully. One said yes that she was definitely hungry. The other was whining about being tired and having to work tomorrow.

“Did you all ride together?”, I inquired of the trio of girls who were as indecisive now as any group of teenage girls possibly could be.

“Yes,” came the collective reply. April continued, “Sue drove.” She nodded her head towards the grumpy one who wanted to go home. Then she looked at me and said, “I’d go to breakfast with you if you could give me a ride?”

Her friends looked at her as if she had a spider crawling out of her ear. Of course, the grumpy one had to say something. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, April. You don’t even know her.”

“Well, that’s true. I’d be happy to give you my phone number so that if she goes missing, you’ll know where to send the cops,” was my flip reply to her accusatory tone.

April laughed, “I’m sure that I’ll be fine, Sue. Don’t worry.” The whole time, she was looking right in my eyes.

April gathered her things and gave her friends a hug. We all walked into the parking lot together and I was very clear about which car was mine. I figured that maybe if they knew my car and had every chance to take down my tag number that they’d feel more comfortable.

Once her friends were in their car, April and I walked on towards my mustang. I opened the door for her and then walked around to get in on my side. She reached over and opened the door for me, which struck me as cute. “Thank-you,” I smiled over at her and quite suddenly just decided to give her a peck on the cheek. April, however, decided to turn and take it on the lips. It really is true what they say about the quiet ones. She had her tongue in my mouth in 1.2 seconds. I wasn’t complaining.

“I don’t want to go to breakfast,” she blurted out. “I want you to take me to your place.” Before I could respond, she was kissing me again. No, I certainly wasn’t complaining and I surely wasn’t going to say no.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

I put the key in the ignition and fired-up the engine. I reached over and took her hand as I backed out of the parking space and headed the car towards my place. She played with my hand, stroking it and kissing it. At one point she was sucking on my fingers and it was all I could do to keep driving and not pull over and hike her skirt up in a parking lot somewhere.

When we finally got back to my apartment and parked the car, I looked over at her and said, “How often do you do this?”

April’s face looked a little embarrassed. “Never.”

“Are you serious? Why now?”, I couldn’t help but be curious.

“I’ve always been attracted to butch women but I’ve never been with one. I want to. Know what else I want?”

“What?”

She took my hand again, “I want you to put your hand inside of me.”

Now my blood began to beat through my body with the force of an oil rig. My heart skipped at least two beats and my blood pressure must have climbed to the point of nearing a stroke. “Holy crap, April. You just put it all out there huh?” I was laughing though, I couldn’t help it.

“It’s a fantasy I’ve had for a long time. When we started talking tonight I knew that I was very attracted to you. I feel like I can trust you and I want you to show me what it’s all about.”

I leaned towards her and kissed her, slowly and deeply before responding. “So you want me to fuck your brains out is what you’re saying, right?”

“Yes! Please!”, she was smiling at me as if she was feeling triumphant.

“Well, you’re an adult, I’m an adult … I do NOT have a problem with that at all.”

With that, I hopped out of the car before anyone could change their mind. I walked around to her side to hold the door and help her out. I took her by the hand and led her to the stairs and motioned for her to move ahead. I was right behind her, watching her ass sway all the way up the staircase. I’m quite certain that she was giving a little ‘extra’ swing to her hips just for my benefit.

When we arrived at my door, I put the key into the lock and swung the door open. It was dark inside and I reached in and flipped the light switch. Then I stood back for her to enter. As I stepped inside behind her, I shut the door and then turned to face her. I pushed her back against the door with my body against hers. In an instant, I was kissing her, devouring her as she stood there against my door. I could hear her moaning. The reverberations of her moans against my tongue inside her mouth was the sweetest of seductions. It made me think of other places my tongue could be. I wanted to taste all of her and I wanted her now.

My fingers slid slowly up her thigh and up underneath her dress. I could feel her laced panties underneath the panty hose that she was wearing. Without saying a word to her I leaned back and looked into her face, took her by the hand and led her to my bedroom. As we walked to the edge of the bed, I turned her around and reach around her, from behind and cupped her breasts in my hands, as I kissed her neck. I could feel her nipples growing hard under my fingers. I ached to feel them in my mouth.

Spinning her around, my lips met hers again with a hunger. Passionately, we kissed for several moments as my hands again reached to pull her skirt up. I could feel her step sideways and spread her legs to accommodate my fingers between her legs.

She groaned as I touched her clit underneath the layers of her clothing. Firmly, I pushed her back onto the bed. I loosened my tie as I stood over the top of her. Slowly I loosened the knot and pulled the tie up and over my head. Stepping forward, I straddled her on the bed. As I looked into her eyes, I simply said, “Give me your hands.” She quietly complied. I felt her body give a slight jolt and I knew that she was utterly turned-on beyond turning back. I slipped the tie over her hands to her wrists and slipped it snug. Then I took the loose end of the tie and pulled it over her head, tying it to the bedpost. With her hands secured over her head, she was completely at my mercy.

I moved to unzip her dress and guide it down over her shoulders. Slowly and with great care, I pulled the dress down to her stomach. Here I stopped because I could resist no longer. Leaning forward, I took her left breast in my mouth and sucked her hard and long. She moaned softly at first. The harder I sucked the louder she became. Her utterances were turning me on and making me absolutely insane. I wanted her body and I wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk a step tomorrow without thinking of me.

Slowly, I slid down the length of her body, kissing and teasing her salty skin with my tongue, until I reached the floor on my knees. Her dress was around her midsection, in a bunch. In front of me now were her legs, still covered in panty hose. As I leaned forward, she spread her legs wide for me, wanting me to touch her. I kissed her square between the legs. I could smell her body and her excitement. I knew she was wet, I didn’t need to touch her to know. Her thighs were quivering now. With very soft kisses, I touched her inner thighs and I gently nibbled a tiny hole in the hose that stood between me and the treasure between her legs.

I gently crept my fingers into the hole in her hose and with no warning to her, I suddenly ripped them from her with all my strength. Shredded fabric hung from her waist. I was taken over with desire now and I yanked the material from each leg and tied it around each ankle, which I then secured to the bottom corners of the bed after pulling her panties off. She couldn’t move now at all, other than some wiggle room.

For a moment, I just took her in. She truly had a magnificent body and her pussy was beautiful to me. She was neatly trimmed and shaved but not smooth. I let my fingers play in her hair and teased her with my touch. I kissed her hair before allowing my tongue to slide south and touch her clit softly.

She cried out, “Oh God…yes!” I heard the headboard creak as she pulled against it with her arms. With her cry, I wanted to eat her alive and I buried my face between her legs and licked her like I wouldn’t live to see tomorrow.

Her hips bucked and lifted to try to ride my tongue, as it danced up and down, back and forth. My lips locked around her clit and sucked her into my mouth, as my tongue continued to lick her furiously. Glancing up at her, I could see her nipples were hard as rocks and I moved my hands up to reach for them. Rolling her nipples in my fingers I continued to lick her. She screamed now. I could feel her body convulsing with spasms that were rocking her from the inside out. I continued to lick her as she came until she was squirming and trying to move away from me. Still, I continued to lick until I finally let my tongue become still. I held her clit in my mouth with no movement until her breathing became less rapid.

“Oh my God…please, I can’t breathe…”, I could hear her moaning. Very softly and gingerly I flicked my tongue at her clit. Her entire body jumped. I giggled; I couldn’t help it. Right now, at this very moment, I owned her body and I could do whatever I wanted with it. All I wanted to do was bring her the most intense physical pleasure that she’d ever felt in her life. It was my life’s mission, at this very moment. I wanted her cum the way men want gold or money.

I leaned to the bedside table and pulled the drawer open. Inside was lube and a vibrator. I pulled them both out. She could see what I was doing but still couldn’t move. She lifted her head and watched for a moment. She let out an anxious moan and threw her head back, giving me complete control.

I held the lube over her pussy and squirted it, letting it drip down over. It was cold and she let out a gasp. To keep it from running off and onto the floor, I caught it with my hand and rubbed her pussy up and down with my flat hand, spreading the lube. I turned the vibrator on and I felt her thighs tremble in anticipation. I could hear her softly draw in her breath. Slowly, I inserted the vibrator into her, only penetrating an inch or so. I wanted to stimulate her vaginal opening and relax her body. I could see her open for me. Leaning forward I gave her clit a few quick licks before I plunged the vibrator into her as deep as it would reach.

Again, she shrieked but this time it was no words. The sounds that came from her were the sounds a woman makes when she is in absolute heaven and her body is completely on fire. Her nipples were hard enough to cut glass, her pussy so wet that it was dripping. She was ready.

Leaning back so I could see what I was doing and watch her face at the same time, I pulled the vibrator out and I slipped two fingers inside of her. She knew what I was doing now and she murmured a very soft, “Yes.”

I let my fingers explore inside her body. There is nothing in the world that compares to the soft, fleshy heat of a woman’s pussy when she is swollen with desire. Her body conforms to wrap around your fingers, hugging them and begging them to fuck her at the same time.

My fingers twisted and moved to touch her g-spot. I pushed against and touched the vibrator to the side of her clit. I didn’t want her to cum, but I wanted her to hover at the edge as long as was possible.

I pulled the vibrator away and added a finger inside of her. I fucked her now, with my hand and her hips rose and fell to meet my strokes. She was moaning and crying out loud now. Over and over she screamed, “Yes…oh God…YES! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

Slowly, I folded my thumb into my palm and curled my hand as much as I could. Reaching for the lube, I squirted it onto my hand and wrist. Slowly, very, very slowly I applied pressure and entered her with my entire hand up to my knuckles. This was the critical part, the widest part of my hand and I knew if I was not careful that I could hurt her. I flipped on the vibrator with my other hand and touched it to her clit. Her pelvis thrust forward in pleasure and I took the split-second to move my hand forward be pulling my fingers into my palm and making a fist. The movement involves a twist and thrust, simultaneously. I was inside of her completely now.

“OH FUCK!”, she shrieked but not the shriek of pain. “It’s SO intense,” she moaned as her head tossed from side to side. I gave her body a few moments to get used to the sensation of being completely filled. There was no room to move inside of her, all I could do was flex my fist tighter and then release. It gave her a pulsating sensation. As I did this I leaned forward and licked her clit. My hand was beginning to go numb as her body began to tense and tighten. Her orgasm was going to be enormous, I could tell. I felt the shudder coming from deep inside her and I groaned as I continued to lick her. I had just cum all over myself.

Three of my fingers had gone completely numb from the tightness of her pussy and her muscles contracting around me so tight. I could feel it now, she was cumming. It started like a wave inside of her and as it hit the crest, she cried out, “Shit! Oh my God, I’m cumming!” Within seconds, her contraction was so hard that she came like a freight train, pushing my hand out of her body with such force that if it hadn’t been connected to my arm it probably would’ve hit the wall behind me.

Her body went limp. She was totally spent. Gently, I untied the restraints on her legs and removed my tie from her wrists. I settled-in next to her and she whimpered softly and moved against me as tightly as she could squeeze herself into my shoulder. I kissed her forehead and gently rocked her as she slowly came down from her high.

“Oh MY God, that was the most intense thing I have ever experienced in my whole life!” She gulped and sighed.

“Was it what you expected?”, I grinned at her.

“No. It was definitely not anything I could have ever imagined in a million years,” she started to laugh because her body was still shaking from the intensity of her orgasm. Her voice was cracking and she was almost stuttering, as if she’d lost all control of her body at this point. She continued to laugh as she looked at me and asked, “So … was this what you were expecting when you went to the bar tonight?”

“Nope, not anything I could have ever imagined in a million years,” I snuggled-up next to her and closed my eyes as I laughed. We both grew quiet and still, bringing the night to an end and giving way to our dreams of the night. 

How Do You Apologize To A Crusty Dragon?

Posted: August 2, 2012 in lesbian, life lessons, self-help
Tags: , , , , , ,
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Photo courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I have a lot of people out there who read what I have to say. I’m humbled that you think what I say is important enough to read. When you comment about various things, I am moved a great deal that it meant that much to you or touched you in a way that compelled you to let me know. The greatest desire of a writer is to touch people, move people and make people think. If I have done that, then I have achieved my ultimate goal in life.

That said, I also think it is very important to be honest with people. When I express emotions I am a human, just like you. I sometimes write things that have been about my past or my relationships and my remarks indirectly hurt someone. I never really mean for that to happen, because I get lost in the writing and releasing of the emotions … sometimes one of which is anger.

I Feel That I Owe Readers An Apology Too

This isn’t a good thing and it makes me feel that I’ve misled people and it makes me feel that I’ve done a disservice from time to time. Today, I’d like to set the record straight. I’m kind of a bitch. I’m not easy to live with, put up with or even understand. I’m complicated. I have a learning disability that great affects my ability to communicate, and more importantly, to understand people. I take things the wrong way. I take things out of context and I have been known to over react. It costs me a lot in my life. People tell me that I need to get a grip on it, control it, work on it, etc. They simply don’t understand that it’s chemical and genetic and I can’t just “get a grip” on this. I can medicate myself, but the amount that it takes to really help makes me feel drugged and unable to function physically.  I sleep all the time. I feel hung-over all the time and sick to my stomach. My frustration levels build and I get aggravated. I am very upset with myself in these situations because I don’t want to over react and I don’t want to be angry, it just happens. After it happens, sometimes I am very remorseful but it doesn’t exactly help at that point. The damage has already been done.

The Part Where I Admit I’m An Asshole

I need to apologize to someone and while she doesn’t want me to do it publicly, this is what she deserves. I vented publicly and I should apologize publicly. I took comments that she made very personally because she was important to me and her opinions mattered to me. It made me feel so picked-on and pressured, exactly what someone like me can’t deal with. She didn’t mean to do that to me. I know this now. The pressures I felt were the ones I put on myself.  My reactions were to speak harshly to her, say hurtful things that I really didn’t even mean and hurt her when it was really the very last thing I wanted to do. I’d compare it to feeling like a wild animal that gets backed into a corner and, out of fear and anxiety, scratches and claws anyone who comes near…even the helping hands.

It isn’t right. I know this. She was not an awful person in any way, she just had her own way of doing things and because I wasn’t really very honest with her about my learning disability to begin with, we had great difficulty in communicating. When you have an issue that makes you feel defective, your initial desire is to hide it from people. I should never have done this. I should never have hidden from her and I should never have lashed out at someone who cared … because I know that she did.

The Truth Is Out

I’m defective, now you know. Now you also know that ranting about my “ex” recently was not the right thing to do and I owed her better. I’m sorry. Times when I should have talked to her, I wrote things instead. Writing has been the only thing that helps me get inside myself, focus and becomes almost meditative for me. Writing is my refuge, a place where I feel safe. Talking, especially face to face, is full of anxiety for me, it scares me and makes me want to run and hide. There were times I just wanted to lay my head on her shoulder and cry. There were times when I just wanted to be silent and be close, just to listen to her heartbeat. She didn’t understand that I needed that calm and stillness and that I couldn’t talk in those moments. I wanted her to be my refuge. I never told her that and I never let her be.

To Set The Record Straight

She’s really a wonderful person, but she’s a busy person with so much going on in her world. I never wanted to add a stress to her life. I never wanted to take away from her. I wanted to be there for her, I wanted to support her and be her cheering section. She’s brilliant. Amazingly smart. I admire her. I wish I was more like her in a lot of ways. I didn’t want her to know my flaws because I was afraid she would not be able to handle it, understand it or have time for it. I never gave her much credit I guess?

At any rate. I owed her an apology. She deserved better. I’m sorry, Dragon.

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