So Long and Goodnight

I’ve left Kali behind and immediately my life got immensely better.  It’s so wild to think that the pheromones of that woman had me so twisted up I believed that she was actually in love with me.  She is Poison Ivy from Batman.  She uses her pheromones to make men go crazy and do her bidding.

Now Delilah is back in my life.  Slowly working her way back in.  I am not jumping into a relationship.  Yet she and I are talking and getting physical.  It’s comforting.  She is such a sweet woman.  I’ve also gone visiting with other women, some new and some from my past.  My friend Crazy is having similar issues with a man with whom she is sleeping.  She and I are getting close and considering physical options.  She is an ex of mine from 20 years ago.

Sure, there is a part of me that recognizes that I am filling a void.  However, there is also a part of me that is merely making up for lost time.  I don’t like spending long periods of time out of service.  So this entire clusterfuck with Kali represented a gross loss of time that I need to recuperate.

I will always love the women that I have loved.  I still love Kali.  But I also still love Crazy, Delilah and Kimberly, whom I visited in the big city recently.  Then there was Sylvie whom I did finally manage a session with.  Though now she has started dating another guy.  Truthfully without the bonds and restrictions of a relationship I always find something new to get up to.  Or something old to get up to.

I can’t rightly complain about my life.  Things are improving.  Spring is coming and I’ve left another controlling, manipulative woman in the dust.  I pity her.  I pity the shortsightedness of women.  Their total incapability to work through such tiny issues to gain the big prize and all the little beautiful things along the way.  I am super considerate, so being a woman in my life is rewarding.  I will always be there for you and thoughtfully doing sweet and useful things for you.  So to just discard that is the paramount of insanity.  I have recently had a run of bad experiences with woman incapable of moving up and onward with their lives.  Improving and expanding.

There will come the one someday.  Until then I am actually very blessed with feminine presence in my life.  I am just going to go on safari and enjoy the majesty and beauty of the natural wildlife all around me and let it move me.  The goal in my life is to be a better person than I was in a better place than I was and I am achieving that.  Leaving behind those who have no interest in these things doesn’t hurt me in the slightest.  In fact, it is a huge benefit to me.  I have taken a massive step up.  So long and goodnight!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Pattern of Abandonment

Aforementioned in this blog are the desertion of my mother and wife.  It is something that I have come to accept.  No amount of giving nor love can change a woman’s mind once it has been made.  Especially on the matter of love.  Kali gradually began resisting reasons to interact with me.  Not bothering to text most days, refusing outright to try to call or visit.  When I observed this she accused me of playing games or making her jump through hoops.  No, it’s expected in a loving relationship that you’ll simply do these things because you care, because it matters to you.  Because the person you claim to love matters to you.

I consistently make the mistake of jumping in with both feet and loving with my whole heart.  Kali was no different from my wife.  She loved me while it was convenient and provided her with something, the second that it was challenging she bailed.  That’s not love.  That’s not how it works.  Love isn’t self serving.  Love is altruistic.  Yes, love is also work and as I’ve said in the past both parties need to participate.  The moment one does not it’s over. 

So Kali has, like all of the other terrible women in my life, failed me.  In so failing she has failed herself dramatically and like all those who have no love in them and no accountability it is of course all my fault.

I’ve admitted to my flaws.  I’m bipolar type two with dysphoria and serious abandonment issues. Not to mention SAD.  If you are a vigilant reader you’ll notice that most of my women troubles occur in winter.  I admit that I’m at my worst in winter.  This is no reason to be a failure.  No reason to put all of the blame squarely on me.  I accept my mistakes, I’m big enough to admit to them and I make my amends.  This cannot be said of the women of my past.  They refuse to accept their mistakes.  They place blame and spew vitriol.  They use names.  I rarely if ever throw names around and usually only when they are proven to apply.  I used few names against my wife, who earned them.  I used none against Kali, though I did describe, accurately, her unfavorable behaviors.  Which all of course still apply.  I fought for our relationship.  She did nothing.  Then blamed me.  It’s pathetic, it’s lazy and cowardly. 

As with Zoe I’m not upset about losing her so much as the idea of her.  She actively proved herself to be none of the desirable qualities she portrayed.  She is living deceit.  I was fooled into believing that she was a decent, caring and loving person.  Mostly, I think she was a spoiled housewife who got bored of the same man and decided to cheat on him.  Which I am not moralizing against.  If she was genuinely mistreated and wanted a way out she would have found it rather than a distraction in me and excuses.  She isn’t committed to leaving him.  She’s oddly enough more committed to him than she realizes.  Maybe for all the wrong reasons, but devoted nonetheless.  She even prefers to defend him in conversation over a man who offered her a way out and hope. 

I had genuinely hoped that in finding someone with the same disorder there would be understanding.  She accused me of not understanding when she decided to not care about me nor regard me at all.  Claiming that it was depression.  No sweetie, when you are depressed the loved ones who offer you the slightest sliver of light are bigger than the sun.  You just didn’t love me.  Maybe you even felt guilty about it.  I understand.  Boy do I.

So go.  Fade into the obscurity of malicious self interest, spite and pity that is the women of my past.  My pattern of being abandoned won’t end with you.  It will end with the woman who is good, proud, honest, strong and deserving enough to stay.  That clearly isn’t you.

The Bitter Poisonous End

So everyone is clear on the definition of love, love is when two people see everything about the other, the nasty parts as well as the good parts and instead of running the other way they think, we can work with one another on those nasty parts.  We can work together to sort those out and in so doing we can become one whole perfect unit.  This only works if both parties consistently show up and get to work.

The woman with whom I was most recently involved, Kali was my soulmate.  We saw one another for exactly what we both were.  Both flawed, both bipolar.  It was a beautiful union.  I am still very in love with her, I always will be.  She is physically, intellectually and socially perfect for me in every way.  Emotionally she is so damaged that she can’t allow herself to be loved properly.

Before the Christmas holidays of 2015 she would send me cute messages of her own volition, send me pictures, cute and sexy.  She would tell me how handsome I was and how excited she was to see me, how much she missed me and couldn’t wait to see me and talk to me.  During the holidays I had difficulty making contact with her though I dismissed this with her excuses that the holidays are a busy time.  She texted rarely with apologies and maybe a picture.  Perhaps a promise that she would try to call later.

She returned after two weeks of this and I thought okay, things will get back to normal.  She loves me so much she will try to call me on the phone just to hear my voice.  She will still send me pictures everyday.  Without me having to text her first she will surprise me with texts just to tell me how great I am and how much she loves me.  This might have happened about three times tops.  I started putting in all of the work.  She would reply positively, but fewer pictures if any and no uninitiated texts at all.

At this point it is very evident that you are clearly and totally not on someones mind.  She claimed to be upset and depressed which I accepted and was concerned about alas, there is only so much anyone can do through texts to legitimately help in these situations.  So I began to probe around the idea that she call me.  After our phone calls she always felt so much better for having heard my voice and knowing that she wasn’t alone.  I would say sweet and wonderful things with a voice and tone that she normally loved and it would all be a little better at least.  Except she now resisted this.  Despite admitting that this might help she flat out did not accept taking any part in trying to make it actually happen in any way.  FUCK NO, was she going to try to do this even in the slightest.

Her love for me was dying, obviously.  When a woman’s heart goes it’s gone.  This I have learned.  You can do nothing to prevent it, though you try like a desperate fool in vain because as a man, you are bound to fight for a love you have in so short a time learned not to live without.  Women truly do not need men.  Men desperately need women.  So I fought, which only made matters worse.  I tried all the soothing things I possibly could and made myself a door mat for her.  This obviously didn’t work.  Why would it?  Why would having an attractive, capable, kind, loving, caring, intelligent, thoughtful, considerate, sexually perfect for you and completely smitten man at your disposal please you?  It wouldn’t.

I tried all the nice things I could and then I challenged her.  I started being a little bit vicious on those points that I knew that she was being weak.  Which, rather than motivating her only made her flat-out hate me.  I have always suspected that there are things that she has withheld from me, not outright lies per se, more like lies of omission.  I challenged her on this which upset her worse.  I challenged her on her unwillingness and fear to put her foot down and take control of her own life in the face of her oppressor, calling her a coward in the process.  I feel terrible about this though the goal was to motivate her to actually DO ANYTHING about it she only decided to turn it back on me as rage and hatred.

None of the above matters.  Not a bit.  There are really only a few points that actually matter.  She stopped loving me some time around Christmas and I have been fighting desperately for us, but seeing as I am the only one fighting there really is no us.

I don’t blame her for not loving me, I blame her for continuing to say the words, for claiming still that she loves me when it is plain to see that through her actions and behaviour there is no love left in her.  She is only herself with no space nor interest in anyone else.  I feel sorry for her.  I genuinely pity the fuck out of her because from here in her life she will have to find someone else who isn’t nearly as good as me or stay with the clown she lives with who is abusive.  Who she also shares no love with.  She had a perfectly good lily pad to leap to and instead she shat all over it and is now totally uncertain of her future.  All she had to do was keep loving the man who loves her more than life itself.

You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink as they say.  I can’t make her love me and I can see that she clearly has no intention of pretending even for her own sake, which is actually for the best.  I don’t want to get suckered into it now.  The good news is now I am fully aware and free to move on.  No guilt and no urge to turn back.  She had her chance, if she were to have a change in heart now I know that I couldn’t possibly trust it after months of neglect.  It really bothers me though, that act of burning a bridge while you are standing on it… Her love was so great and wonderful while it lasted, I was certain we would be together forever and then she just shot it in the face.  For no reason.  I’m going to have a Kali shaped hole in my heart for the rest of my life over a few months that were mostly unrequited… It’s a horrible monstrosity. A tragedy.  Part of me wants to die and another just desperately hopes I can find anything like her anywhere else…

Dead Inside

My emotions have taken a beating in the last little while.  The woman I love has become an uncertainty in my life and this simply destroys me.  I genuinely love her.  More than anything.  I want nothing else in this world than to be with her always.  Yet, after months of receding texts and pictures, no visits nor phone calls of any kind… she seems to have turtled completely.

I’m not saying that it’s over, but it doesn’t look good and I am distraught.  I don’t have what it takes right now to deal with something like this.  I don’t know if I will recover from this.  I don’t know if after all of this neglect I will be able to see her the same.  I feel like you can’t care about someone and treat them this way.  So, this is causing me harm.  It is doing damage.  Damage from which I’m afraid there is no healing.

I don’t want the woman of my dreams to become something I resent because she has totally failed to provide me with any kind of relationship.  I don’t want to look at her as selfish and cruel.  I don’t want these to be the surviving traits that come through this storm.  Because if they are then there was no sense in weathering it to begin with.  I want to girl who genuinely thought about me.  I want the girl who loves my everything.  Who sends me cute pictures.  Who doesn’t withhold things from me or flat out lie to me.  Alas, this woman is slowly disappearing and I am left with nothing but the dream of her.

I have been very depressed and I think she has been as well.  Yet this is no excuse to treat one another poorly.  I am always kind to her, I always think of her.  She never thinks of me, never texts unless I have first.  I feel more and more that this relationship is one sided and as I do despite the love that I feel I am angry.  Not so much with her but myself because I know I deserve better.  She wanted me because I was so considerate, yet totally fails to earn that.  She takes me for granted and neglects me completely.

So.  I guess I have to pull the trigger on another one.  My heart really can’t take it.  I can’t help but feel like this was the goal all along.  I just wish she had been a better person about it and had simply let me go rather than waste my time, my hopes and emotions.  Now I’m going to be hurt for a good long while and I won’t be able to be with anyone.  At this point even if it could get better, if an improved version was offered I don’t know that I could take it… I love her more than anything but I doubt that it will get better and even if it was it will always go back to shitty.  Now that I know she genuinely doesn’t give a shit I will always know that.  It will always end up right back here.  So why fucking bother?

I don’t know why I do this to myself.  I meet women who seem so great and then they just abuse the shit out of my good nature.  Which is why I’m a total asshole most of the time because I don’t want anyone to get close like this and do shit like this to me.  To exploit my empathy and care and then just fucking ditch me.  I’ve gotten nothing from this relationship.  Nothing.  I can’t even get her to call me!!!  If you love someone this isn’t even a thought.  This isn’t something that you ever consider NOT doing.  So yeah, the more I write about how so totally fucking horribly shitty this whole fucked up deal has been for me, the more angry I get.  I don’t want to hate her completely so I have to stop writing.

The question is, when I go do I fucking torch the shit out of the bridge or not…?

 

Triptych Pastiche.

The title will support the theme of this article and were I half the writer I believe myself to be I would actually make of it as such.  Though I am a finely crafted mimic, a recurrent undertone in the homily that is my life’s tale, I am only that and nothing more.  However… As a pastiche one can be renewed as unique, sublime, original and divine, for this is upon which I have been mired for so long.  It is possible to pay homage to multiple things and thus be set apart as something wholly individual.  To be defined, whilst still tipping ones hat at those from which it draws its characteristics.

Contrary to what I had originally believed to be true, I am really rather well defined in three parts:

There is Jack McBastard, the interloper.  The unwelcome rogue.  An agent of chaos, he brings to the table a litany of useful tricks and characteristics.  Even though the result may invariably be ruin and carnage he is an agent nonetheless.  An agent provocateur.  The mad keeper of the gates to Mania.

Dysphorian Alpha, the future self that I strive for always.  A partially built, megalithic construct assembled from the parts of great men that I admire.  He is found in my visage as it is the simplest part of myself to shape.  The finest shave, a collection of eau de toilette, finery and positive charms.  Socially acceptable at my best behaviours and always upbeat.  I find him in my genuine confidence, my lack of fear or need for competition as these things suggest loss of control or rivalry.  Alpha is peerless, yet humble, his confidence dictates that he has no need of displays.  He is rarer than the other two as he is the final stage of my metamorphosis.

Then there is Dysphorian the curator.  My present and evolving regular self.  The glue and stitches holding together the poorly grafted frankenpersonality.  The man who plays between these two diametric titans and is torn asunder from the fray.  When they clash, he is crushed between them.  When they dash in opposite directions, he is drawn and quartered.  This is the character that everyone sees.

As I have stated in the past, there used to be confusion with regards to bipolars and whether or not they were multiple personality.  It is easy to understand, we aren’t multiple personalities, we are several personalities attempting to be one.  He is the curator, the keeper of the characteristics and traits.  Perpetually under the weight of the opposite poles and far behind schedule.  Always playing catch-up.

With regards to Kali… I have been the ass.  I have been playing catch-up between these two and finding myself much needier than I should.  I have been impatient and moody and there has been no need of it.  Things aren’t going to be like a newlywed’s honeymoon everyday.  That is the matter of going through life without being in control of our own circumstances as of yet… That can be expected.  I am merely going to do my best to keep the romance alive and not worry so much if she isn’t always available at every moment.  I knew, and know, that this is an unrealistic expectation.  I should know better than to push so hard when there is nowhere to push to, that is exactly how pressure is made and nobody likes pressure.

I love her.  I can never lose her.

 

Sidetracked

I somehow managed to get lost along the way.  I did what I all too frequently do and I lost focus on the primary goal.  My objective is to manage my disorder and the emotional imbalances that come with it.  The problem with that being that I am and do have a wealth of emotion.  I am passionate.  I extend my care and concern to others.  I am affectionate.  In fact, it is this feature that assures my therapist and myself that I am not a psycho/sociopath.  Though, a caveat to this is that sociopaths can be made…  Especially if their emotions are dissociated, abused and in all other ways scrambled.  I’m not far away from antisocial personality disorder (ASPD) and share many of the traits as seen in this previous post (the post in that hyperlink also has another hyperlink to a related post, which is on the same subject and one of my favourite so we can see there is a theme here).

I put myself out there and I like to believe that it is give and take.  That the love and care that I give will be returned to me.  That my nearly boundless consideration will be appreciated and because it is that it will come back to me.  This is rarely if ever the case.  In fact it is becoming downright aggressively hostile how I am absorbed from like a fountain and not even so much as pissed back into.  And there it is.  The crux of the entirety of bipolar hypo-manic dysphoric  phase shift.  You care SO much that when you realize that the same care and love that you send out will never be returned, you snap.

It isn’t unreasonable.  It really isn’t.  Being thoughtful is the basic minimum standard in any relationship.  My wife couldn’t do it.  All you have to do is pick up a phone, send a text.  Even if it is meaningless, let me know that I am being thought of and that I am still in the loop.  Let me know that you are going out…  So I can make plans too, or I don’t wonder what the fuck happened to you.  My ex Zoe was extremely selfish in this regard.  She had the nerve to ever complain about anything I did or did not ever do for her… What did you ever do for me?  I even did all the work in bed…  Idiot.  Anything I did for you should have been taken as a bonus and you should have thanked me profusely for it.

So once again I find myself investing more thought in another person that I am in myself.  I want it to be a loop.  I want it to go out and then have it come back to me.  I want to say sweet things to her in the middle of the day and know that it will come back to me at random.  Which it never will.  There’s a thing about stuff of this nature, if you have to be told to do it then it is meaningless.  You are only fulfilling a preordained task or obligation in order to satisfy a request.  You are only going through the motions.  A programmed meat robot acting out the events without a will of your own.  You need the desire and inception for it to matter.

It was these things that drew her to me in the first place.  What she doesn’t seem to understand is that there are two sides to it.  That you earn it.  That you are there for it, you receive it and make time for him.  That you return these thoughts, surprises and gestures.  That you think of him when he is not around and let him know.  That you, yourself are considerate in little ways.  That you keep him filled in and let him know with texts that you are thinking about him always.

I have been confused as to why she even wants me in her life lately.  I mentioned it to her and she seemed really upset but that actually confused me because after that I didn’t hear from her again until the next day.  even then we spoke some throughout the day, she was elusive as per usual these days and then from diner nothing.  I doubt I’ll hear from her until close to noon tomorrow.  I don’t know what has happened to her but I want the Kali that I fell in love with back.  The one that never stopped texting me.  That sent me a picture every half hour at the latest.  That was always trying to think of ways to see me.

I didn’t really come to this post to complain about her.  She is a wonderful woman and I really do love her.  I came here to declare that I need to work harder on myself and focus less on my relationships.  Focus less on external distractions.  When those things sort themselves out they can be a part of my life again.  In the meantime I have some housecleaning and creativity to get underway.  I’m only afraid that by the time that others are ready to be all in I might be too busy to be able to focus on that.  Or just too far out.  I guess this is how life goes.  It’s all one big sordid Greek tragedy.

 

Edit: I have a serious problem with the lack of communication.  It has been a theme in my past relationships and has always turned out to be a sign of a deeper issue.  We live in a communication rich era.  It is too easy to communicate in a myriad of ways: Text, being the easiest and quickest, but also, call or email are quick and simple.  You can facebook or facebook message too easy as well.  So when there is radio silence from someone I get really, really suspicious immediately.  Like, it drives me fucking mental.  It has always served me well, this instinct.  My wife decided to fuck off to her girlfriends for a weekend of binge-drinking without telling me and sure enough she was leaving me.  This is only one example of many.  Could I be over-reacting?  Sure, but I doubt it.  It really takes little to no effort to show someone that you care by picking up your phone and texting literally something so simple as: “Hey :)”

 

Tangled Web/House of Cards

A new person has entered my life and brought with her joy and a complication.  For the sake of this blog I’m going to call her Kali.  She is the girlfriend of a co worker and the mutual friend of other co workers, which is to say that she has met and befriended people in my working circle through her boyfriend, my colleague.  I had been seeing her on social media and hearing about her from friends and friends of friends for a while and my interest was piqued.  She has unusually dyed hair in a bright unnatural colour.  She has an incredible talent with practical arts and crafts and makes all kinds of really cool things like t-shirts and decorations.  She does wild makeup and does little cosplays to amuse herself.  In short, she’s unusual, rare, fun and zany.  She also happens to be unusually tall at almost six feet and ridiculously gorgeous.

Now I have been observing from afar knowing that I have a problem with women as I do and trying my best to behave.  Though, seeing as we run in similar circles it was inevitable that I was going to run across her eventually.  We met for short periods here and there but nothing substantial.  Not enough to really learn about one another or carry on a conversation.  Until a mutual friend had a birthday.  For which she had made all her own gifts all to suit the theme of the party and totally the highlight of the night I might add.  They floored everyone.  Completely unique and creative.  Jaw-dropping.

It so happens her boyfriend requests that I drive her as he won’t be attending… Well, okay, we live nearby.  No problem.  We instantly strike up conversation and it becomes clear to me that she is undiagnosed for bipolar.  She has all the symptoms, the same rhythm as I do almost exactly.  Right down to the timing.  She even reacted poorly to SSRI’s.  Though, I’m no doctor…  She complains that she feels like her psychologist is perhaps not treating her properly.  I ask her if she had any trauma in her life, she says yes and gives me some background.  I ask if she told her shrink this, she says she did.  I reply that I think this might be the issue.  The psychologist sees depression and erratic behaviour and moodiness from a woman who had a traumatic past and they are dismissing the genetic component bypassing the possibility that is an inherent disposition and predilection toward bipolar.  The shrink is instead attributing all her problems to the trauma because they are trained to think horse when they hear hooves.  They choose the most convenient answer.

We hit it off famously she and I.  After that night we correspond through social media for a week or two.  We have so much in common.  I help her decide on and design her halloween costume.  She likes the same music, movies, videogames.  We are gelflings, the two remaining members of our kind.  I have never identified with another living person so completely as I have with her.  We become best friends in less than two weeks.  We are fascinated with our similarities.  Cut from the same cloth.  Mirror images, narcissistically  pair bonding due to our unique and unusual sameness.  Then little by little this becomes a crush.

Which is where we are now.  I have a girlfriend and she lives with her significant other.  We have way stronger feelings for one another than we do for the people in our actual relationships.  I don’t want to disrupt her life and making any sudden movements would cause serious problems for everyone involved.  So here we are, a house of cards built on a spiderweb.