dreams do come true ... or .. nightmares, rather.

Last night I dreamed that I was sitting in the office looking into the living room where J was pacing back and forth – restless and desperate. “The urge is OVERWHELMING”, he said to me (referring to the urge of wanting to go drink)… “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how else to distract myself anymore.” All I remember was that I felt has helpless as he. I didn’t have an answer, leaving me at a complete and powerless loss.

This morning I woke up and J was gone. He had taken with him all the cash in my wallet, and because he put the wallet in a different bag (my camera pouch) I didn’t until much later realize that I didn’t need to cancel all my credit cards or spend time searching at my job, in the supermarket, and in the car, for the possibly not stolen but LOST wallet. Although, of course, my very first thought was “That bastard did it again!”

So – I barely made it to the MBA info session I had signed up for at C University and I skipped the class visit I had planned afterward. I needed to tend to the possibly stolen wallet issue – which, naturally, aggravated me to no end. Again, he managed to completely mess with my day/life. “NEVER AGAIN! It’s over,” I swore to myself … hours before I let him back into my house. 

He had, in fact, gone out and got completely wasted. He ran into someone he knew on the street, they offered smoke, he didn’t refuse – and the rest is the usual story -> inhibitions lowered, stupid ideas & drinking to follow.

“WHY – even though you know exactly where a 'yes' to smoke or drink will most likely lead – do you still answer with “yeih, sure!” when asked?? I don’t get it? You have a brain, don’t you? You wouldn’t eat walnuts if someone offered you a delicious cake with walnuts in it. It could kill you.  … WHY are you not able to create this auto-response for yourself with weed & alcohol? … “Want walnuts?” – "No, thanks – I can’t have walnuts." … “Wanna beer?” – "No, thanks, I don’t drink." PERIOD. Never ever again say 'yes' to that question. It just shouldn’t be an option. If you get depressed, “caged in”, hopeless about your life, whatever – find OTHER ways to deal with it! Go walk, run, play music, get moving – it creates endorphins! It is proven to work to take that edge off…and then you go from there. Write, go to a meeting, do some community service – helping others works, too! There are so many recipes ..so many options. Intoxication should not even be an option. Ever. Like Walnuts.

I just don’t get it.

Then again, I should get _some_ aspects of it. I know the cycle, I know the risks of heart-ache, instability or loss & damage of property that may lay in my near future if I take this man back into my life, and I do it anyway -over and over again! I’m hopelessly hopeful. Or I’m just as f—ed up in the head as he is with his addiction issue.

Ugh.

Love is just… I just … why? Why does it work that way? … If J had been an addict when I met him, I could at least do my little self-analysis/psychological break-through thing and determine that he represents my older brother, who has been a heroin addict for most of his life. But, J wasn’t that when I fell for him. He was a successful, quirky, funny geek who was very well-mannered, wickedly smart, responsible, and in charge of his life.

The autodidactic psycho-analysis continues…

what if THE ONE shouldn't really be THE ONE?

Last Friday J showed up with all this stuff and the news that he had quit his job, for they weren’t going to give him his promised raise. “So you quit to end up with no money at all?” I thought. "It's been only 3 months! And you were looking for a job for months before that! Aaahhgh."

He said he could go to a shelter - but NYC shelters are nothing but drug houses - so, no, I wasn't going to let him do that....and he knew it.

He has been trying so hard to be an extra good roommate. Does the dishes, pays attention to the kids, helps with feeding them (and even made lunch for them today), went shopping (with my card, but still…), and last but not least, been working on a freelance website gig…more or less.

UNFORTUNATELY, it doesn’t matter how hard he tries – I am insanely frustrated by the fact that he is back in this needy position. I don’t want anybody living in my house! Especially not someone who could lose his sh-- at any moment …which he did today, btw. He is probably getting hammered as we speak. He is also on his way to the shelter….or so he said. :/ I guess, he is on a downward spiral...and (or because?) this allows him to pick up a bottle. Or, at least, that's how I'm guessing this works.

Ugh. WHY is it that I have to love a man so hopelessly dysfunctional? WHY? Whyyy?!
I really am losing hope. I don’t think he’s going to make it. I watch him make too many stupid decisions without any type of reasonable judgment or foresight. I just don't think he is going to get and stay on his two feet anytime soon, if ever.

J really has come a long way. He is much better than he used to be. But, he is still relapsing (or whatever one wants to call it) every week or so. And I just don’t want that in my life. … yeah, yeah… I keep saying that I don’t want this in my life BUT THEN I KEEP HIM BY MY SIDE anyway.

And that’s what is so frustrating. I HATE the fact that he struggles soo much with his life. He is a sufferer. He is incredibly emotional, insecure, and unstable. AND I CANNOT and WILL NEVER BE ABLE to change that. I know this. But, I also love him to a fault.
J is the f—in’ one. That angry, hopeless little man is my f—in’ soulmate. So, as much as I want him out-out-out of my house, I also don’t want to see him go.

I need some serious therapy.

If he had a job and were contributing his share (and I maybe had one more extra - sound-proof [cuz he is a loud night owl - room in the house), I may be able to tolerate the living-together thing. But this scenario just - over and over again - makes me think of a check-list term I heard on a TED talk: one of the characteristics identifying a psycho-path -> “parasitic life-style”. http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/jon_ronson_strange_answers_to_the_psychopath_test.html

I’m sure if J heard that, he’d be deeply offended. Especially since he’s trying so hard to give back in other ways.
But – I can’t help it. I can’t help it. I have had too much of this story. The story needs to change; otherwise, I’m giving up on the happy ending and am settling for the rational and unromantically lonely one.

stability, recovery, and relapse

J has had a job now for about 3 months. His internet habits have changed, so I guess, excessive porn/chat-site surfing are symptoms of active use. Bear in mind, he still does visit these sites but before it would be 50 entries in the history, and now it's maybe 10. Yes, I look at the browsing history. Being with a pathological liar turns you into a spy, always searching for the truth. I was married for 12 years before this relationship; I not once looked at that man's phone, browsing history, or email. It just didn't even occur to me. There was one exception, but I'm not going to get into this now just for the sake of record straightening.

For the most part the past few months have been stable and sometimes I can see his care and love shine through, or - at least - he's doing a much better job at faking it, for I am still wondering at times, whether my soul-mate is, in fact, a socio- or psychopath. I just watched this talk on TED  and, according to the speaker's checklist, it looks like I actually know a couple of psychopaths...but J is definitely on the top of the list, if you were to judge from the past 5 years with him. The only thing that keeps up my healthy doubt about this diagnosis is the fact that I knew him before that. I know how he relates to his child, how deeply he loves (if "love" is the right word), or how he can't help but really like the dog I'm fostering, even though he would much rather prefer to be indifferent about this animal.

Before the dog came into the house he went on a big rant about how filthy these creatures are. I just sat there and thought, "wow, and this coming from a guy who didn't do his laundry for a year, can go days without brushing his teeth or changing his underwear, and who - just yesterday - left a counter full of Parmesan cheese out all night, much to the enjoyment of our nocturnal rodent visitors. Never mind the plate of rice left-overs he forgot about the day before, right next to the dirty socks and the empty juice cups under the futon." In other words, hypocrisy could be that man's second name but, sometimes, I feel like he doesn't even notice the double-standards he presents. Seriously.
Anyway, he ended up really liking the dog and I was so happy to see this. It was kinda like the story Bill Burr tells in one of his absolutely hilarious stand-up comedy gigs.

Anyway, ... now I spent all this time writing without mentioning at all what I actually wanted to talk about: The fact that J still slips up (or rather, decides to use - smoke/drink/etc.) every week or so. Sometimes it's worse, sometimes it's not so bad - usually he makes it to work the next day (if it happens to be a week-day) but accompanied by these relapses are still angry words, lies, a mess from his middle-of-the-night feedings (if he is at my place), and actions he completely forgets about by the next day (e.g. calling his ex-wife in an angry outburst at 3 a.m., or keeping me up half the night with his whining about how everybody hates him, or chatting up other chicks on wireclub.)

I am not quite sure how I should react to these relapses. In Austria, I have several friends who get intoxicated weekly or regularly, and nobody tries to label them with such a worrisome title as the word "addict". But, I guess, when it's your own partner, you just don't want to tolerate it.
I don't want this kind of behavior in my life. I know, I'm not supposed to "shame the addict". It doesn't help. But, I don't want a drunk person near me! ... and J is no better high. He is annoying in every state of intoxication, for he becomes so dumb and so cantankerous, when he is usually sharp as a whip and relatively wise and careful, when discussions get a bit more heated.

I don't know what to do. I love his company when he's sober. I like his weekend visits. But, I cannot stand the times when he steps away to inebriate himself. It could be happy times. It doesn't matter. When he hears the sirens calling, he will run. :(
Sometimes, I can even feel it. I feel when it is about to happen or when it is happening (if we are already apart). And, yet, I remain so powerless. So powerless.

I want him to be o.k.. I want him to tie himself to the stupid mast! I want him to stop already. But, I know, recovery doesn't happen from one day to the other. My expectations are too high, even though, I constantly try to remind myself to keep them low and realistic. Little baby steps. Little victories. Recognize them. Cherish them. Look ahead. This change is a journey with no set path.

And regardless of my wiser self's soliloquies, I find myself frustrated, sad, exhausted, and at a loss.

i can't be helped

Relapse number 3 now since he’s been back. It’s really heartbreaking and I just want to get on my knees, pull my hair, and cry about it…but I can’t. I have to keep my composure. I have to make dinner, mitigate fights between the children, make sure they bathe, and talk to me about their middle school trials & tribulations. Also, there is a board meeting I’m supposed to attend today. Speaking of which,… if I had someone to watch the girls, I would go to an Al-Anon meeting today. I feel as if I am about to burst, I’m so upset. I cannot believe I got this deep back into it. I am back to caring about him and everything pertaining to him. THAT IS NOT GOOD!!

You’re an idiot, S. That’s all I can say at this point. You can’t be helped.

in denial

http://www.searchquotes.com/viewimage/Love_Makes_You_Hold_On_To_Things_You_Shouldn%27t/533/

I don’t want to be at work anymore. I am completely over-loaded so even if it is quiet and people have nothing to do I am swamped. Besides the overwhelming quantity of the labor, it is also the quality of the tasks that’s frustrating. I feel like all creativity has just been sucked out of me. Yesterday, I sat in the parking lot crying about the fact that I have to go into this stupid, windowless, over-A/C-ed building … well, I was also talking to J about it…so, I guess, it made me feel even more upset (i.e. thinking about it instead of just succumbing to the rut).

Anyway…speaking of whom…

So J is now at the house….still. He’s been working on my friend's website, who btw. has sent over 40 emails in the past few days regarding additional web edits. I SO DON”T HAVE TIME FOR THIS. And, to top it all off…she is paying practically nothing… I’ve been rejecting people for months (asking for webhelp) because I don’t have the time…I feel hijacked….anyway…that’s not what I wanted to talk about…She is a lovely, lovely lady and I'm glad to help...but I just don't understand how she managed to book me up like this. ;)

So… again … J is at the house and all morning I was thinking about the letter I was going to write him. How he is in denial, how his porn preferences are worrisome, etc... 

But then... there he is…telling me to keep the money for the work he's done on the site….and telling me to send him all the webwork for P’s construction company site (even though, that deal entails only me getting work done in my apt.)….he just wants to help me….”I’ve done so much for him…” …. I reckon, he just doesn’t want to be kicked out.

In addition, he’s also been a much better roomie than he used to be. I mean…he’s still messy with his own stuff but he’s been doing lots of dishes, he takes out the garbage, he helped putting up a/cs, carry stuff, fold laundry,… he’s just been a much more considerate…and also tries to pay attention to the children...and that, they love, of course.

He wants to pretend nothing happened. Just like he wants to pretend he has no problem with alcohol or drugs.

He wants to continue to live in these soap bubbles…fugaciously being carried along, enjoying the ride until the bubble bursts and he falls, only to get back up and jump into the next bubble as if nothing happened.

And I? I want to ride right along with him. I want to pretend his reality isn’t as harsh as it is….I want to ignore all his troubles and just enjoy the good times. Never mind that he has an addiction problem, no home, no money, no job, no real or good friends or support networks, a warrant out for him, court dates pending, a giant tuition debt that keeps him from receiving his degree, and the list goes on.

relapsing when it's least expected

A lot has happened since my last entry. Last Sunday – J sent text urging me to see him (if I didn’t he was just going to come up to my place). I had a photo shoot that got canceled so I decided I’ll go meet him before he “goes away” as he said. I wasn’t sure what that meant but either way, I thought, I’ll meet him since we then may not see each other for a while.

Turns out, he was scheduled to go into a mandadated, lock-down rehab program somewhere downtown on Monday. I don’t know if it really was because of the public assistance case (when in shelter system, must open public assistance case, and if addiction issues, must go into program. …honestly, that kinda makes no sense since the shelters are just huge big drug houses. His mother’s version – that it was mandated by the court for some other cr*p he did sounds much more plausible…but, I guess, much less pitiable.)

Anyway, …we spent a lovely afternoon in Central Park. It reminded of how much I enjoyed his company. We walked a lot, lay in the grass, basked in the sun, talked, joked, ..it was really nice.

As I told him it was time for me to go pick up the girls from their dad, he announced that he’ll just break night and go to the program in the morning, although, he said, he’d be leaving anyway for his graduation on the 16th and then when his daughter comes in June or July.

And because I was in such a cool, calm, and happy place (and we’ve had pretty stable convo for a while) I invited him to stay with me until his graduation. I don’t know what I was thinking….I have kids in the house! Taking in a recovering addict (or, ‘recovering’…I don’t even think….more like wanna-be recovering).

But, I had already said it…and I felt bad taking it back…so I just let it be, hid all the money lying around the house and hoped for the best.

And it was really nice having him. He was good to the kids. They were (and are) really excited that he’s here. He’s sleeping on the futon and I was planning to keep everything platonic which worked well until I got weak yesterday afternoon. Stupid me…cuz keeping the sex out of the equation (which breeds relationship-type behavior) would have been a much wiser course of action. I had been so proud of myself up until that point. It’s not like he wasn’t trying.

So – even though, I knew it may not be a good idea (or the harmony won’t stay) and it may get me more involved….I decided to “live in the moment”. And I knew that it wasn’t going to last…this complete and utter perfection of togetherness but I didn’t think it would be _this_ short-lived.

Another thing I am completely aware of (and which still doesn’t seem to change anything) is the fact that J is most definitely a sociopath (in my humble non-expert opinion, anyway). A very high-functioning sociopath maybe, but nonetheless, a creature with exceptional manipulation skills and no sense of empathy whatsoever.

He really, truly is amazing with his act (some of it, I’m not even sure if it’s an act or an automated self-defense mechanism).

But, all in all, I just feel really sad. He’s impossible to be with. He is so unstable that his situation or behavior or seemingly fixated plans may change within a 2-hour time span.

Anyway…so today we spent a wonderful morning at his Class Day (graduation ceremony for his School at Columbia University – reading of the names, speeches, reception, etc.). His sister came with her kids and we just all had a really nice time. Then he went downtown to meet his prospective roommate (a friend of a friend) and I went to dance class and to the store after.

I was putting away groceries when he returned and I could tell immediately that he was not sober. He tried to blame it on being really tired and having had too much champagne at the reception which was kicking in now in combination with the exhaustion…but, I have been with him long enough to know when he is high or drunk or something. Besides the fact that I could smell the pungent odor of alcohol, different than the little bit of champagne smell from earlier in the day, he also kept moving his jaw in a weird way which I noticed him doing when he was severely intoxicated that night he came to my door for the first time in almost 6 months. That’s what he did this afternoon. In fact, I’m going to google it right now.

Ugh..I’m tired.

Anyway…so here we are again. I cannot believe it. This is why I must stop wishing for him to come back to me. For he will come, but he will be who he is and that’s that. Soul-mate or not.

Oh, but how nice it was to have this little bit of time with him…

next round

So… last night… I had just gone to bed (early…not even 10pm, yet) …my doorbell rang. When I answered, it was J…begging to be let in…begging me to talk to him. After a bit of a back and forth, I finally agreed to let him in but under the condition that he promised to behave and we’d stay in the stairwell. [kids were sleeping]

He was a mess. Skin and bones. Completely intoxicated, reeking of alcohol. Two gashes on his head from a seemingly very recent fight. Of course, he started loud and emotional the moment he saw me. In fact, he seemed angry and I got scared for a moment. He was talking about killing himself…killing any potential lovers of mine…but once I calmed him down a bit he stopped. I then realized his anger was rooted in the fact that he could not get me out of his head. He said that he had to drink up the courage to come and tell me how he felt. He just couldn’t “not see me ever again”. How I was his _everything_ …how much he loved me…how only I mattered….how he had thought of me _every_ single second of the day….and how beautiful I was…

Then there were a few angry mentions again about who I may have been with… and how he wants to kill them…and then he decided to share how many “b*tches” he had slept with…and how _nobody_, _nobody_ came close to me.

I’m not gonna lie…it was satisfying to hear these words….to get confirmation of his adoration for me….and as I noticed this satisfaction, I was, of course, appalled that I would think this way (!). I mean, I was looking at a completely broken man – why did it matter what he thought of me? 

… It mattered, because I loved him….because he had rejected and insulted me so vehemently when he left (which had truly bothered me, even though, I suspected it was not true).

Later – in a therapeutic break-through kind of moment – I realized that- maybe - the reason I was w/ J, trying so hard to make him love me and see my goodness and kindness was because he represented the two people in my life I couldn’t fix. My brothers.

Turns out – all I seem to want is to hear that he loves me.

At least, that’s what I’m thinking because, even though, it was so sad to see J in this state it also made me happy to hear all of these things. Happy – partially, anyway, for I don’t think it’s very good that he feels this intensely about me. He could, after all, go completely nuts one day and we all know where that could end. This is why I sleep with a knife under my mattress….and I really need to get a fire escape gate (not only because of him, of course…it’s NYC…anything is possible). But – I think, when it comes to J, the only thing this could be triggered by is if he (in a state of intoxication)  saw me with another man....not even sure if it would have to be explicitly intimate. Then again, I'm quite talented at drawing up worst-case scenarios so maybe I'm just being paranoid.

I spent more time than I wanted out in the hallway with him....and, of course, that’s when my neighbor Paul decided to go out. He has seen J in a drunken state at my door on more than one occasion. It’s getting kinda embarrassing.

J then decided he wants to get physical. He wanted a hug and he was just melting in my embrace…and then he almost couldn’t contain himself, tugging at my pajama-pants, pulling them down, trying to grab me… I had to really put him in check. Somehow I then managed to take care of his open wounds and even put a band-aid on one of them. When I was done, I told him he had to go and after begging to stay and later ringing the bell once more, he finally left.

I don’t know where it is he’s going to end up. He said he’s been making money…. When I asked how he said by selling heroin  (I’m not sure if that’s true and if yes, if that's all he’s doing….I know, addiction can lead to worse behavior…selling your body and such)……he looks like a junkie…:(

The only scintilla of hope I have is that he told me to go f- myself, when I said he looks like he’s going to turn into a statistic. That reaction may be a testament of a still existent spark in him that may help him regain strength and focus. …The only problem: his paranoia (part of his illness). At this point, I just think he needs to be and stay on medication to prevent relapses.

Anyway, I told him he’d probably hate himself tomorrow for coming here. 

He has no friends, he complained. .. 

“That’s because you’re an asshole to everyone”, I responded. “You need to stop already. Stop using. Turn your life around. Stop it. Go to meetings. It’s time. …. There are plenty of people who love you and who know you …they’re all waiting for you to get your life back together.”

Ach….when will this stop? Will it ever stop? …. I hope, he doesn’t write to me. I don’t want to get involved again….

a very romeo&juliet-esque moment

I had to end it with my seemingly perfect suitor. It was creating such anxieties that I found myself with a death wish as I was driving to his place for a dinner invitation a few days ago.

I have never been someone who entertains suicidal thoughts. The only other time I had a moment like this was after my divorce. It was an impulse, a hope for relief from the complete and utter despair I felt about the failure of my marriage. It was in the midst of a total nervous break-down...and, I assume, it was a coping mechanism -- the very graphically detailed planning of taking my own life (which, in reality, I would never do).
It was a very vivid picture I painted - so vivid, apparently, that it woke my slightly clairvoyant daughter (back then only 5 years old). She just woke up screaming and crying out of deep sleep...for no reason whatsoever and when I rushed to her bedside, she just sobbed: "BUT,.. BUT I LOVE YOU!" ...

To me, the act and the idea are two different things but I have not played with this thought before or after that ever again until this moment a few days ago ... as I was driving to my dinner date. I found myself in  the third, complete break-down of the day...sobbing and driving...when a huge truck passed by and - for a moment - I wished to have my life taken. I was so surprised by the thought that I caught myself. "Wow", I said out loud, "you would rather die than live without J?!...That's officially insane!" At that point, I also decided that I was not going to be able to have another relationship for a while. I needed time to heal and I feel so much better on my own. There is no replacing what J and I had together.
There never will be.

I resist reaching out to him not only because he is in no position to have a relationship (with me, anyway) but also because I feel like it would be selfish. If I contact him, he'll get weak, too, and I am no good for him, either. Without me, he may actually make it one day. I'm a trigger, I think. It's just how he thinks. No trust = trigger. Actual events are irrelevant. What he spins up in his head is enough. :(

tied forever?

it's been tough lately ... being without J.

yesterday i went on a second date with a man that's been courting me for weeks now. he is a perfect gentleman, he is respectful, he's attentive, listens, cares, ... he seems like a hard-working guy and is a great father to his kids. he also seems very honest and he is well-spoken ... but... after i returned home that night, I just sat in the car and started crying.

maybe it's that i am faced with the reality that if i give in to this potential relationship the loss of my soulmate - J - is finally official. i tried to reason with myself. i am trying to understand why it is that i love J the way i do. he was a product of his addictions and he was not good to me. ... maybe, it's that i saw through it all and just kept up this hope that he'll resurface eventually.

i've been strong - stayed away and kept my email block filter upstanding - but i am becoming weak... depression is creeping in and it's all making me feel even worse, for there is this guy who absolutely adores me (and is truly wonderful with me) and all i can think of is how afraid i am to get close [i don't even allow him to touch me!], for it would mean to get further away and more irrevocably so from J.

at this point, i can only assume i need therapy, for this can't be normal.

maybe this type of passionate and crazy love is like a test for us.... it's like an affair... it's tempting but it's best to stay away from it, for it will consume you and destroy you! ... or, less dramatically put: destroy part of you....leaving you with a void you will never be able to fill again. -- this is why we should choose our mates wisely...not let ourselves be driven by romantic infatuation but by evaluation of their character. ... love can come later... and it will be a different, more stable, mellow love.

but, i can reason myself to death.... all my heart wants is J. :/

this sucks.
or more cliched (how do i type an accent?): love f'in sucks! (ok...cliche is without the f'in...but i think it should be added).

on the streets of new york city

yesterday i took a different route home from work. traffic was awful everywhere and so when i came to halt by a subway station in washington heights i had a moment to really contemplate the terribly sad situation of the man i saw sleeping on the sidewalk, just a few feet away from the steps leading down to the train. living in this big city, i, of course, see lots of homeless people but in this particular case i just felt as if i was personally affected. i pulled my car out of traffic and into the bus stop, for i remembered that i had a sandwich and soda in my bag. i was hungry but this seemed like a so much better place for my food to go. i walked up to where he was sleeping and placed the items by his head. he was laying in the fetal position facing the wall and he had a rough, felt blanket pulled over his face. all i could see was the seemingly familiar jacket and woolen hat he was wearing.

i returned to the car and sat there, looking at him, overcome with emotion. i watched how people walked by, not even noticing him. it was as if he were invisible. when tears began to well up, i went into my wallet, pulled out the biggest bill i had (sadly, only $10), and went back to put the money under the sandwich. I usually don't give money to the homeless....i give food ... and then money to charity organizations on a semi-regular basis instead.

when i again returned to the warmth of my car - it was not only cold out but the air was also ripe with bone-chilling march rain - i tried to understand why i was being so unusually emotional. to clarify, i am very compassionate about people's suffering but this scenario i see every day and i have built some sort of thicker skin for it, or so i thought.

then, it occurred to me that the man sleeping on the sidewalk reminded me a little of J. and maybe, the reason i was so drawn to him, and then so touched by it once i got close, was because it _was_ J. He could have certainly fit the description. It was a rather small man, the way he slept, was the way J used to sleep, the choice of location (no shelter, no nook, just no thought wasted on it at all,...no care for himself). ... i don't know... but the thought that it could have been him has been haunting me.

i feel so terrible for him. ... i hope it wasn't him! the columbia degree for nothing, the past 4 years (of me trying to stick by him)...for nothing. his daughter...without her dad... his mother without her son....
i know that some things can't be changed. if it is his addiction that keeps him on the streets, then maybe he has a chance for recovery (although, last i heard, he is using meth...and that is just as bad as heroin). :/
but, if it is his disorder that's making him non-functional, and the addiction is just a symptom...or an unfortunate side-effect, due to bad decision making at some original point...wherever it is that addiction begins... then this may be his end and the thought of this is terrifying. even if i never see him again, i don't want him to have to live out this fate. ...

i want him to be o.k. - i want him to be happy. rebuild his life, find peace...

i pray.

what's love for?

i've decided to accept the fact that i'll probably be on a self-indulging, heartbroken pity/sadness trip for a while and you're just going to have to suffer with me while i philosophize about love, loss, grief, anger, and whatever emotions are attached when one gets their heart broken and/or gives up on love.

so... today my question to the world (who isn't allowed to comment back because i am way too sensitive to open myself up to public criticism - but you can email me) is: what the hell is the point of romantic love? why are we built the way we are built? why do we love people who don't love us back? why do we get this attached to a person in the first place? and why isn't there some sort of swan-mating-type union set up for us? -- what? - it isn't in the interest of the species of swans to spread their seed? (are swans a species? probably not, but i'm not going to go into refreshing my biology knowledge right now. i'm sure i won't be using it for another 10 years. not that i don't want to learn but at this very moment i don't want to do anything but bitch about love.)

so. .. anybody?

what was the point of me loving this man the way i did if it didn't change a thing?

and what makes this guy so freaggin' special anyway? why him?? ... he's an addict/alcoholic, bipolar, he's rude a lot, he has no empathy, he's irresponsible, broke, jobless, without trust or respect for women... and the list goes on... WHY? why did i choose to accept and love this guy the way he is when i wouldn't dream of giving the same patience and tolerance to _anyone_ else (who would possibly be much more deserving of my love, care & attention)?

and it made no difference whatsoever. love, loyalty, care, sacrifices ... for nothing.

i was watching woody allen's "crimes & misdemeanors" the other night and while it isn't one of my favorites (of his flicks), there are a few concepts in there that really stuck.  so... there is this fictitious professor he's interviewing for his documentary. professor levy, i think. in one of the snippets, this guys mentions a psychological idea that really made me wonder. he says that when we search for love or a partner we gravitate toward people that resemble a significant immediate family member from our childhood - a mother, father, but maybe also a sibling or another close family member - and we then expect our partners to correct whatever faults we experienced with the dysfunctional people from our childhood. basically, it's a no-win situation. .... the question remains: why do we do this?

my parents are both pretty stable and well-rounded people...but both my brothers are relatively dysfunctional...one is bipolar, i'm almost certain...the other one is a junkie and i haven't seen him in over 15 years. HA! ... this observation, I - Ms. McOveranalyze - have made in the first few months of being with J, of course....nevertheless, the epiphany didn't change any of my actions.

anywho. ... another, funnier line from the above mentioned allen movie:
woman: so, how is your relationship life going?
woody: oh, it's not...not at all... the last time i've been inside a woman was when i went to visit the statue of liberty 6 months ago.
;)

in my dreams...

i've been missing J. missing his company, his touch, our intimacy, our laughter, our hang outs. i've put all the bad memories aside and i'm trying to forgive and let it go.

i know that the following are coping mechanisms but i am deeply spiritual, so whatever they are they are part of intelligent design and i am so grateful for it.

so, now that i've accepted the fact that we cannot be together, however, still suffer from the loss, i've been given J's company in my dreams. i suddenly dream of him every night. they are peaceful dreams. we are just kinda together. last night, i dreamed that we were sitting on the steps leading up to an elevated subway platform. we just sat close to each other, friendly, catching up. i was telling him about my dance classes. he had a big gash on his face as if he'd been in another fight (or maybe he was sick). i didn't comment on it. after a while he wanted to give me a kiss... just a peck... and i decided to hug him first and/or instead ... either way, we didn't get very far, for the moment we touched a man came up the stairs to stop us. it was a tall black guy with dreadlocks. J had come with a chaperone ;) ... and i was really happy he did, for we really needed that.

maybe it was my chaperone..but i didn't know the guy, so i assumed he was with j.

anyway, i thought it was kinda funny that i put a chaperone into my dream.

i don't know why i love this man... but loving him, i do. still. unconditionally. always. ... and, regardless of how i feel, we can never be, for he is completely and utterly dysfunctional. the only way he'll save his own life is if he stops _all_ intake of intoxication and accepts weekly therapy (and unfortunately, it seems, regular medication) as the way to keep it straight in life.

cold turkey ...

It's been exactly 14 days since my last contact with J.
[actually now that I finally post this entry it has been almost 3 weeks now.]

The fact that I am counting days is a testament to the tragic reality that I, myself, appear to be an addict. When I renamed my blog not too long ago, I thought I was just being witty, albeit certainly trite, by creating this little word play .. "addicted to my addict". Now, that I have finally mustered up the strength to _let_ the man walk away, I am confronted with a terrible omnipresent withdrawal effect. It isn't just a mild depression underlying my every activity (no matter how much fun is involved), it is also physical. I don't have much appetite, I've lost a lot of weight, my chest hurts (I suppose, this is what they call heart-ache), and when I think too much about the fact that I have really lost the love of my life, I begin breaking out in hives. 

And so, I count the days and I acknowledge every hour I spend _not_ thinking of him. There aren't many of those, yet, but I trust that this feeling of loss & grief (or maybe it _is_ addiction) cannot last forever.

I try to distract myself as if the devil were chasing me. It's ridiculous. I'm in dance classes all weekend, I go to the movies, do volunteer work, hit the gym, bury myself with paperwork in the office and, and, and. Also, I've signed up w/ two online dating services, not necessarily because I want to date anyone (_soo_ not ready) but because it helps to redirect all my romantic thoughts. Instead of reminiscing sadly about the past and wondering about a future that could never be, I read about all these seemingly good/down-to-earth guys who are interested in me. I hardly talk to anyone. And if I do, it doesn't go past an email or two. What a waste of money.

Those guys are probably all just trying to get over someone, as well. Or, as my friend G says, they're all married. - What? No!

There's this funny quote I read on thinkexist.com today: "According to a recent survey, men say the first thing they notice about women are their eyes, and women say the first thing they notice about men is that they're a bunch of liars." I think, I'm finally getting/accepting this. 

What hurts the most, though, is the way J spoke to me in this last interaction two weeks ago. He sent me a slew of horribly insulting messages. It was heartbreaking and enraging at the same time to read the garbage he was sending.

I tried to remind myself that he had just not reached the level of emotional maturity needed in times of distress ... in times of break up. My ex-husband turned into that same disgusting foul-mouth when we split up and he very well knew (and admitted) that it was _he_ who messed up our marriage. I had been the best wife I could be to that man…for 12 years we were together. Anyway…that’s another story.

I don't understand, how this sudden discard works. I don't think I could ever blurt out whatever insult springs to mind just because I'm upset. Certain things you _just_ don't say, no matter what. After all, this is a person you supposedly love (or loved)...someone you (should) respect, and (should) overall wish good things for.

It was hard to keep my mouth shut. God knows I wanted to yell right back at him. Ask him how he could possibly be saying such awful things after all that I had done for him, after all the love I had given to him, after everything I've stood by him for.

I wanted to bark angry insults back, as well, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings! ... Something is seriously wrong with me. Man insults me in most horrific ways and I don't respond because I __don't want to hurt his feelings__. It would be comical if it weren't so sad.