Crazy Train pt4

Is there a Goldilocks zone for telling someone you love them? Too early and it’s just weird. Too late? Well, that’s my question. Can telling somebody that you love them ever be too late?

Please see Crazy Train Pt1 Crazy Train Pt2 and Crazy Train Pt3 for further context

GG told me he loved me on 11th July. That’s a month ago.

I still haven’t said those words to him. Partly because as you all know, ima but if a psychotic mess at times and I’m overthinking my feelings for him and I don’t want to say those three little words without meaning them and it doesn’t help when I have temptations thrown in my face and and and.

See all these excuses I’m making?

Truthfully though, what do those three little words even mean anyway if not backed up by actions? And this leads me onto a complaint, a very minor complaint, but still.

Gg fails to send me kisses on his goodnight texts and rarely texts good morning.

Now, in the grand scheme of telling me he loves me, organising weekend trips, making efforts to get to know my son, introducing me to his family, cooking my dinner and doing minor chores for me, you are thinking this is insignificant.

And you would be right. It is insignificant in the grand scheme of all those other things. But it’s the small things that really matter. Because I can do all those big things myself. I’m grateful for when he does them of course, and I appreciate him for those things, but it’s the little things that make the most impact.

Like little ‘post it’s’ randomly left.

Or finding my fave chocolate in the fridge

Or picking up those rare crisps you love that hardly anywhere sells

Or randomly sending me breakfast when I’m working at home and have a ton of stuff to do

Folding my laundry (I cannot explain just how much I despise this task)

Send good night and good morning texts. With Xx’s

Back scratches and tickles.

These are all things I have done or do for GG. And are worth way more than the three words ‘I love you’

And I know words of affirmation are some peoples love language. But it’s not mine. And it’s not GG’s.

I guess the thoughtfulness that was there in the beginning has started to wear off.

I wouldn’t mind but we haven’t even had an argument. 8 months!! This makes me suspicious…because it usually means he’s a bottler. The silent treatment type. The passive aggressive.

I had 13 years of it and let me tell you, it’s worse than yelling.

The crazy train continues….

I’m back…I think

3 years ago, I found myself swallowed by a big black hole. I was numb. I was exhausted. I woke up one Friday morning and I could not move. It wasn’t because I was paralysed physically, but mentally and emotionally I was broken.

I’ve suffered with anxiety as far back as I can remember. I have stubby fingernails and some pretty crazy actions, borne out of overthinking, that pay testament to that fact. But after a break up, a new home, a new job, finding my feet with single parenting and the loss of my beloved dog Rosie, the cracks in my toughened exterior finally shattered into a million pieces.

I rang the doctor. I had no idea why I was feeling the way I was but after a 20 minute chat, the doctor simply said…it’s not an anxiety attack you are having. You are depressed.

For the first time in a long time I cried. I cried and cried and cried and cried. I struggled to breathe through the sobs as the reality dawned on me that my brilliant astute brain and my inner strength had finally given up on me.

Of course they hadn’t given up. Simply put, my mind and body forced me into facing my reality that I cannot lunge myself into all manner of exciting things as a way of dealing with what was going on inside.

I was hurt. I was sad. I was carrying a heavy guilt. I felt like a burden on my friends and family and rather than face that head on, I simply ignored it and went on with life. I was fixing a broken heart. I hadn’t felt loved in a long time, nor did I think I was deserving of it.

At the very same time, I had met a guy. He was nicknamed Super Mark because he had done all these incredible things. He had such an amazing life story. Things were moving rapidly, but when I woke up on that Friday morning I had no idea how I was going to tell him.

He knew I was off work. And one night on the phone he asked me if I struggled with depression. No, I answered. He responded softly saying ‘I have you know. I’ve been depressed to the point of suicide. I know from experience that the only way to start healing is to talk’.

In that moment, everything I had been holding in came tumbling out. I have no idea how long I was on the phone for. He patiently listened to me pour my little heart out. I have no idea if he was listening really, but I sensed he was from his mmm’s and aah’s and awww’s.

By the time I finished, he simply said ‘this is a chapter in your life. You won’t feel like this forever, just for now. Do you feel better?’

It dawned on me in that moment that by talking and getting everything off my chest, I felt a sense of relief. I wasn’t ‘fixed’. I had simply opened the door into healing.

And the mad thing about it, was that afterwards, Mark didn’t run a mile. He chose to love me instead and gave me a wonderful 8 months. That is until I found out he told my Dad that my mum was fit and how much fun it would be to have me and her together.

(Which is proof that even the good guys can be grade A fucking dickheads)

I digress. Back to healing.

I started therapy and working on doing things that made me happy. That’s how I got into football coaching. And how I got back to my hiking. I started budgeting properly and planning days out to the beach. I discovered hypnosis and meditation. Eventually, although it took a while, I found writing again.

Reflecting on the last two months, despite the wonderful things I have been experiencing, I have definitely fallen backwards a little. Depression isn’t ever fully resolved. It’s a constant battle of forgiving yourself. Forgiving the feels. Forgiving people. And in my case, speaking your truth. And after the year we have had, being confined to my own four walls, it’s amazing that I didn’t slip sooner.

I injured my foot and broke my big toe at the end of March, which stopped my usual exercise routine in its tracks. I was able to walk so I still hiked a little. And I managed to limp around the football field twice a week, there really isn’t much running in coaching thankfully. But it delayed my progress.

Last weekend though, I climbed 5 mountains (not as dramatic as it sounds. Actually it was, because it was hot as fucking hell in England) and since then I have been doing my 15 minute hiit or dance workouts. The result is I am happier. Less fatigued. More motivated. I’ve found myself singing again, to the point people have commented. I’m dancing as I walk and shop and talk. My mood is just way more upbeat. I don’t feel like writing is a chore (sorry for that), I’m doing the washing again. The plates are no longer stacked high.

I’m not saying that exercise alone fends of depression, but I’m a pretty good example if it does.

So next time I go AWOL, please, somebody shout at me to dance round the living room for 15 minutes and all will be well again.

Peace out mofo’s!

Crazy Train Pt2

It’s dark. GG is drunk.

I’m already reeling from the introspection of the last 3 seconds before he finally blurts out what I have been sensing and therefore trying to sabotage for the last few weeks.

I don’t respond immediately. Aside from the fact I’ve just taken a moment to reflect and accurately recognise my selfish behaviour, I’m also conscious that GG is feeling 9 beers brave.

‘Oh, you feeling brave tonight. Is that because of the beer?’ I ask.

Yeah, I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but only now do I have the courage’

‘Hmmm’ i murmur, because I don’t know what else to say. This isn’t a conversation I want to be having at nearly 2am on a Monday morning and I especially don’t want to be having it knowing he is drunk and may not remember too well when we do wake up.

So I kiss him enthusiastically, because regardless of how I feel about all this, knowing somebody loves you is incredible. He doesn’t ask me for an answer or push me for any response in kind and then we drift off, with my arms and legs wrapped around him in what I call the koala bear snuggle.

I open my eyes to the harsh sunlight coming through the windows. I take a peep across the bed and GG is awake. Before me. This is rare.

I smile. He leans over and kisses my forehead saying good morning. I know he’s hungover, so I tell him I’ll go make the tea. With extra sugar.

We spend the morning doing what young couples in love do, showered, made breakfast and watched the rabbit hole that is YouTube. He invites me stay for lunch to meet his friend. And his dad, but I realise I haven’t re-lined the kitty litter and kitty needs feeding so I need to get home.

I can’t decide if this is a brilliant stroke of luck as an excuse to get out of there or if I’ve genuinely got concerns for my cat who has survived 12 whole years, mostly fending for himself. Either way, the cat is allowing me to dodge yet another situation I’m not quite ready for.

But before I leave, I can’t not say anything. Because then I really would be THE worst.

I’ve slept on it. I’ve had all morning to think about how I feel about him.

So I ask ‘are you still feeling 9 beers brave?’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, last night you told me you love me. Do you remember?’

‘Yes. And I mean it. I love you’

I smile at him. ‘I’m not very good at being vulnerable and talking about my feelings. But I’m crazy about you and I’m very happy you are in my life. It’s just gonna take me a little while longer’

Crazy Train Pt1

All aboard.

So this week has been a deep dive into a world of vulnerability. Vulnerability that was unexpected and that I was not ready for.

It all started on Tuesday when GG gave me the key to his house. I say key. GG, the big bloody geek, has a digital door lock. The kind that does not need a key, just a fob. Or an app.

Yes. I said an app. I’m not tech-averse, but if it ain’t broken, don’t try fixing it, ya know?

Anyway, I digress. GG handed me the instructions to download said app. I did. I tested it. It worked. I now have unlimited access to his house. His sanctuary. His safe space.

After a few questions about boundaries and when I can and cannot use it (there aren’t any) I said, ‘this is a pretty big deal’. GG said, and I quote ‘we’ve been seeing each other for 6/7 months, I’m ready for this. You don’t have to be, I’m not saying I need a key to yours, but I’m there’.

Then, I had the worlds longest day on Friday, I had to complete a 3 day audit in 1 day. I was at work for well over 12 hours, but I got the job done. I rock up at GG’s house at 11pm to find he has ran me a bubble bath, lit some candles, switched on the diffuser and poured me a glass of wine.

Stay with me here, I’m not finished.

Last night, we watched the Euro Final. With us both being big football fans and knowing the high stakes that came with seeing England in a final, we made a Sunday roast and then settled down to watch the game. Heartache ensued. C’est La Vie. But by the time the game finished, GG had sank 9 bottles of beer. Too distraught from the game, and very drunk, we went to bed. At some point, we found ourselves looking at the clock and it was 1:20am, wayyyyy past my bedtime. Luckily, neither of us have work today. But GG rolls over to me and says ‘can I tell you something?’

Of course, I reply.

And suddenly I know what’s coming and in those spilt seconds, I realise I have been expecting it. The whole last couple of weeks of my own behaviour, the questioning, the overthinking, the sense that something isn’t quite right has just been a subconscious reaction to what was about to happen; to what I was preparing myself to hear. I already knew what was about to spill out of his mouth and have known for a while as he says;

‘I Love You’

Gamer Geek #3

Tell me you have a boyfriend, without telling me you have a boyfriend (Disclaimer, I don’t have a boyfriend, officially).

Unofficially however, I think I do. Gamer geek posted me on his Instagram. He referenced the fact we have been talking for nearly 4 months and asked me how long we had been physically seeing each other. ‘We first met 6th Feb’ I replied.

It hasn’t been that long, was later than that’

It was the 6th Feb’ I repeat

And thus ensued a conversation about how quickly it had gone etc.

GG and I have spent almost the whole weekend together. I arrived at his at 07:45am yesterday to go hiking and I didn’t leave until 12pm this afternoon. And I only left to get home for the cat, I wanted to stay. He wanted me to stay. Neither of us verbalised it, not sure why he didn’t but I was very mindful of overstaying my welcome and showing my hand too much. Remember what I said when I like someone and I get waayyyy too eager, waaayyy too soon. I don’t want to flip the switch. GG is an awesome guy, he’s interesting. He’s cute. He’s fun. I may not be having the daydreams that I did about football dad, or with Mr Big but that’s not a bad thing. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that peaceful and gradual > chaos and fast.

There is still a lack of emotional connection though. I really do have to pry info out of him. And he’s not all that forthcoming with telling stories. For example, he told me he went to Iceland. And he also told me all about his trip, and the whale watching he did, camping under the stars, touring the famous Gulfoss Falls and swimming in the blue lagoon. I swear he said this was a solo trip. I SWEAR godammit, but honestly, lately, my memory is not what it used to be so I doubt myself. Anywayyyy, on a completely unrelated subject, GG is getting his haircut tomorrow, his friend is doing it at home and as he was telling me about her, I asked her name and he said ‘Laura’.

Me Oh, my hairdresser is named Laura too, but I go to a salon called NUYU’

GG ‘Yeah, that’s where she works, she only does home visits for her friends’

W e H a v e T h e S a m e H a i r d r e s s e r!

It’s a small world. Call it fate, call it serendipity. Whatever. But what are the chances of that?!

What’s the point of this? GG tells me Laura was the friend he went to Iceland with. He was very quick to tell me they hadn’t dated, I guess he saw the look on my face or the energy I radiated after he mentioned it and thought I was jealous. But I was confused, see, because I thought he said he went alone. I mean there may have been a pang of jealousy. A tiny one, because the girl is seriously pretty. But you know, I work with two men I have had sex with, one of which was way too recent to mention, so I got over myself very quickly.

But, see what I mean? I’d have definitely remembered him telling me he went with a friend. Especially a female friend. And it just side swiped me. So, a small part of me, now that I’m not around him and all up in my feelings, is starting to wonder. How much of the story am I getting? Half? A quarter?

I suppose telling a new love interest how close you are to other girls is a risky thing to do, particularly if said love interest is the jealous type. I can be very jealous, but it’s usually when something that might make me jealous is kept hidden. I could be jealous when you first tell me the story, but I’m doubly jealous now that you have added to the story and didn’t mention it first time round. You know what I mean? That’s crazy. God it sounds really crazy, but that’s rational for me. 0-25% jealous when it’s laid bare from the offset. 100% jealous when it’s disclosed at a later point. And even if it is crazy, I don’t think I’m alone here (as a female, anyway).

And, tell me if I’m overthinking something else, because you know, I have a tendency to do that when it comes to boys, but something doesn’t add up from the other night. For me, Wednesday nights are football training nights. Now I didn’t really hear much from GG last weekend. And I deffo didn’t hear from him on Weds. I know we are all busy, but when a guy goes from constant and consistent texts on a daily basis and then suddenly disappears for a night, or two nights after a couple of months, then it’s only natural to wonder what he’s doing.

Apparently, he went to the new designer outlet that has opened near us with his mate and they got Five Guys, went back to his place to watch the footy and play Fifa. Fine, all very plausible! Until tonight, when he said he was playing Fifa for the first time in ages.

It didn’t add up. And that’s when my brain goes into overdrive!

Me: He’s just forgotten that he played fifa with his mate

Brain: Don’t be a fool

Me: How am I being a fool? Where would he find the time to date somebody else, he’s constantly texting me

Brain: Was constantly texting you, he’s out of routine now, the energy has changed

Me: oh stop overreacting, if he was dating someone else they must be very relaxed about how much he uses his phone

Brain remember how you managed to bang Mr Big three times whilst also talking and dating GG

Me: ooooh, good point

And I’m sure you can imagine how the internal tug of war continued from there.

I read somewhere that you should reflect after a date on how they made you feel. A focus on if you like them as opposed to questioning whether they like you.

I do like GG. I always feel very looked after when I’m with him, he’s thoughtful and considerate. He’s chivalrous and has manners. We have fun and I laugh a lot. But I do always come away with a sense of unease. Like he’s holding something back.

And I’ve also looked back for red flags. Nothing obvious, although he was keen to tell me all about his manhood on our second date. Not directly, but just a funny story that allowed him to boast a little. I can’t say I blame him, it’s boastworthy. Is that a red flag though? More of a pink flag I would say. It obviously didn’t put me off.

Maybe I have nothing to worry about and I don’t recognise this for the good that it might be because all my previous relationships have been toxic? Another possibility is that I’m glossing over small important flags because I’m trying to forget about my weird Jeremy Kyle situation and so I’m just happy with the attention. Or perhaps I do recognise it’s good, but I’m trying to find things to self-sabotage because I’m also very good at that!

Did learn that he was named after his Dad this weekend though. And he also learned that I was born under a different name than the one I have now (surname. by deed poll. because my mum was young and naive, bless her). And I’m starting to wonder when might be a good time to introduce my mini me. Not like soon, but just how we might do it if we make it to 6 months. I know he’s open to this anyway, he invited him on holiday remember! But these things are just examples of me sharing who I am with GG. Am I getting the same level of personal investment from him? I’m not convinced.

Was there a question in all of this? Oh yes. How do you know if you have a boyfriend? And without an official label, when does texting and dating others become disrespectful?

(Yes, yes, I know this whole post is around my jealousy that he might be dating others. I’m crazy though. A hypocrite. Ok?! Ok.)

Fin.

Gamer Geek #2

There are two things that really turn me on in a man. Independence and banter.

Don’t get me wrong, I am superficial too. I like a guy to have a certain look, a twinkle in his eye, to dress well and to take care of himself. I just rate independence and banter higher.

And so it’s a good job Gamer Geek has those two in spades. Because he has none of the other qualities. Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute. In a puppy dog eyes kinda way, not in the twinkling eyes way. His dress sense is somewhere between indie rock and grandad which is not helped by the long limp hairstyle he is currently sporting. I will forgive him though, none of us have had a haircut in the last 3 months and he’s obviously planning one because he said I wouldn’t be able to pull his hair for much longer. Shame. But ok.

Thing is, I’m not interested in gamer Geek for his outward look. He has wonderful values that gel with mine. He has hobbies to keep him busy and therefore I don’t feel pressure to fill his time. We enjoy similar things, playing games, sports (football and tennis) and he’s the first guy I have met who enjoys hiking more than I do and doesn’t need to wait for me to organise things, he’s very proactive in that sense. Oh, and if you didn’t guess from my nickname, he’s a huge nerd. He has manners, chivalry and a great sense of humour and I really don’t have to chase and keep making suggestions hoping he’ll take the bait, dating is easy and is a mutual back and forth and I don’t have to question anything. All wins in my little black book.

And this wouldn’t be typical of my blog without me describing the bedroom antics.

It’s definitely not what I am used to. Gentle and unhurried. Just good old fashioned love making I guess? I dunno, it’s been such a long time since I’ve experienced truly sensual sexy time. It’s the type of sex I would expect 3 months in, which I suppose we are. But there’s no sense of urgency, and I think we all want to know that secretly we wish we were ripping each other’s clothes off and doing it where they land instead of always moving up to the bedroom. And actually, I’m very surprised at GG’s lack of big dick energy considering he could also have the nickname Mr Big. He doesn’t turn me on in quite the same way though, I don’t get those immediate pangs of ‘I want you now!’ when I look at him but that’s OK right? We’ve slept together three times, I didn’t orgasm the first two, but I still enjoyed it immensely, I was super turned on and writhing about, making noises that I didn’t know I could make! But I’m still worried that I’m gliding into something with no real foundation, I don’t want to waste anybody’s time. Yes I’m being open to a slow burn, but what if I never get those immediate pangs? We’ve talked about a weekend trip in June, so I’m pretty confident he likes me because he’s also quite hard to read but what if I’m still only half-assed about him by then?

Nice guy, with his own interests, a job, his own place, no baggage, chivalrous, funny, we like similar things, sensual, generous.

All those qualities, absolutely nothing wrong with this guy.

And yet, I’m questioning if it’s right. Geez!

Do I need therapy?

FD #7 or is it #8?

At the very first second of the very first minute of the very first hour of the very first day that I was conscious of this 2021st year, I read the following words ‘Happy New Year Babes’.

And those four little words created an excitement in me that I just couldn’t contain. So much so, I told everybody who would listen about it…you guys, my lovely readers, my friends, my colleagues. Even my Mum and I don’t tell her anything (because she doesn’t need to know that her daughter is a hoe). And for anybody who doesn’t know the history of FD (Football Dad) then please view nearly all posts published between October and January. I then spent a good 6 weeks obsessing over his uncharacteristic pet name, despite the fact, as it turned out, that that was the end of his investment and effort in our ‘what could have been’ relationship.

And you might be wondering ‘why on earth is she re-hashing this old story? Bringing him up?’ Don’t worry, I can hear you all shouting ‘let it go, love!’

But the reason I am bringing it up is because I went back to football training tonight and as this is how we know each other, he was there. I saw him. Looking all fine in his shorts and t-shirt, flexing his muscly arms and winning smile. And instantly I remember why I crush on him. Damnit!

And of course he was keen to say hello, and crack a joke.

I was not so warm.

I promised myself I would be my usual friendly, chatty self. I wouldn’t let the humiliation affect my interaction with him. But I am not made that way. And truthfully, I was pissed. Pissed at him for showing up looking finer than Adonis himself. Pissed at him for being chatty and friendly like n o t h i n g has ever potentially happened between us. Pissed at him for not helping me with my balls. Pissed at him for smiling and forcing me to chat and hold his eye contact.

Just pissed.

And you know what I’m pissed at even more? Myself. For allowing the feelings of frustration and anger to seep in and not be indifferent to the whole thing like I so desperately wanted to be. I’m obviously not over it.

The good news is, I don’t feel the same intense level of crush on him. Yes, I’m attracted to him but I don’t feel like I want to act on it anymore. And added to that I found myself disliking some of the endearing qualities that initially attracted me to him, his ‘loud’ presence and his height. I’ve never ruled out any man because of his height but I’d 100% tower over him in my heels, so I’m latching onto that. And he’s updated his WhatsApp status to ‘Road Man’ and whilst it might be a joke, I 100% deserve better than a god damn road man, Nike kicks, sweat pants and puffer jackets are not what I want to be sat opposite when I’m sharing my hilarious stories over a Malibu and pineapple.

So that’s progress.

Hopefully, all of that will continue to slowly turn me off, and the fact we are in contact again, no matter how small, doesn’t start re-ignite the fire….but if anybody has any tips on turning my pissy feelings into cool indifference then I would love to hear them!

Also…note to self. Don’t tell Mum anything unless you want to hear ‘how’s things going with that guy from football?’ forever!!

Witty Title – How do you know?

Is it just me, or does everybody have imaginary conversations in their head with people they know?

I do this all the time. In the car, in the shower, as I’m walking around the supermarket or when I’m lying in bed just ready to drift off.

And it can be with anybody; a friend, a family member, a random member of the public, somebody I work with and absolutely with somebody I like.

The overriding theory here is that if I am fond of the person, I will create scenarios and play it out from my perspective. This is particularly evident if something has gone wrong somewhere. A side effect of a lifetime of anxiety. Sometimes it’s reviewing a situation that could have gone better. Sometimes they are scenarios that are entirely possible, but have just not yet come to fruition because, well, timing. Most of the time though they are completely made up scenarios that are just bloody wishful thinking.

When it comes to dating, I have this idea in my head that I will be completely chill. I want to be completely chill. I don’t want to overthink. I don’t want to fret. I just want it to be an effortless gathering of information of each other, intertwined with flirting, fun dates, knowing looks and companionship.

But alas, this is not how my brain works and the daydream-like imaginations run exceptionally wild in particular when I find a guy I have the hots for. A guy I connect with, a guy who presses all my buttons and makes me tick.

How do I know this? Well because right now my mind is racing with a multitude of scenarios that have Mr Big as the starring role. Whilst poor Gamer Geek only enters my thoughts when his name pops up on my screen. Rarely do I message him first which should be a bloody big neon flashing sign that he is into me and I should start placing more eggs in his basket.

But ohhh no! It’s Mr Big that gets all my thinking time (soon forgot about Football Dad didn’t I?). Gamer Guy barely gets a look in with dream-state saint, even though, and it’s very obvious to see, despite whatever irrelevant scores I apply to either of them, he is quite clearly leading in this Love race!

So…is there a lesson I have not yet learned here? Is this thinking time a form of over investment? If the thinking time is a side effect of my anxiety, what is it about Mr Big that is triggering me? And if it isn’t anxiety, how do I know when it’s ok to let my imagination run wild? And why does it run wild with some people, but not others?

Am I mad for having soliloquy’s running through my mind? Is this madness a form of love, the one that people refer to as temporary insanity? I’m not in love, surely. Not with either of these two.

But if you was to ask me right now, hand on heart, swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth….who I want to love?

It’s the dirty Kawasaki himself, Mr Big.

Sigh.

Post Christmas Blues. A Rant!

Let me start by saying that I really hope that whatever shape or form it came in, that your Christmas and holidays have not been too disappointing. I spent most of the main day working before getting home to my baby and tearing through wrapping paper and the mountain of gifts that were left behind. My son was beaming with smiles and showed a lot of gratitude, which as a parent, you always try to install and when it happens, the pride you feel is immeasurable. My wonderful Mama and Nana bought round plates of food and with some gin and games, Christmas turned out to be a pretty decent affair.

But for some reason, I’ve suddenly started to feel low. I feel like I’m losing control in a number of areas of my life despite the whole mind, body, soul gig this year.

My son’s dad, let’s call him SD, who I love dearly (just not that type of love) started dating my cousin (weird). No wait, my sons cousin (even weirder). This is the second attempt at a relationship. Aside from the fact I just can’t stand it, there is a definite ebb away from our son on his part. As a result, I’m starting to resent and dislike him but he’s too closed off to hear feedback and I don’t know how to get through to him. I’ve been patient. It’s been 6 months, other than making my feelings about this union clear at the beginning (a lot because it’s weird and mostly because it didn’t work out last time because she couldn’t handle the fact he had CHILDREN), I haven’t uttered a word. But I can see his priorities shifting towards his new beau…for example he left him at home for 3 hours on Christmas day so he could have dinner with his new gf. My son wasn’t alone, he had his grandad with him, but as I was working I felt this was pretty diabolical all the same, especially as he told me on the day after he had already left him. And then there’s the polite requests I’ve made to help me out with caring for my grandad following a triple heart bypass, or for work, or just some god damn me time, which have all had to be ran past his gf before any decisions are made. Like…WTF? Is this normal? You have to ask your gf of 6 months, who your son doesn’t know about and has not been reintroduced to, permission to have him?

Maybe SD should stand for Shit Dad. That’s a bit unfair, he’s not shit, but there’s deffo room for improvement…no clubs, no days out, constant screen time, but there is an abundance of love. Or at least, there was….

And.And.And. I could rant on forever. I guess I’m just angry and frustrated and I can’t seem to shake it, I’ve no other outlet for my emotions than here… so you (not so) lucky folk are getting a direct insight into what goes through my mind when the lights go out. But thank you if you are still here reading, absorbing my little 1am pity party.

And don’t get me started on FD. No mention of the walk over the Christmas holidays. No initiation of convo’s, though he did say he’d love to help me complete the UK’s 100 Greatest Walks, which was a book I got from my folks (after I text him). Given the above though, I’ve not really been making much effort and it only seems to be one-way anyway. So I have no control over that either.

We had a re-shuffle at work back in February. I have a new line manager who I barely see, and a new manager has been created who has effectively taken my old job but still expects me to do the work. It was fine to start with, I knew it would happen as they were new in role but 10 months on, I’m still doing it and it’s starting to bug me. I’m a lackey. All the doing, none of the reward and yet again, I have no control over it.

And as I am writing this out, it’s suddenly dawned on me that maybe I am a control freak and that’s my real problem?! Nothing to do with my emotions. I will admit I do tend to focus on my emotions to try and determine if they are rational or irrational. I think my feelings are quite rational on all these occasions so….Is this an epiphany?

How do you know if you are a control freak?

She Cray Cray

‘’If she’s single, pretty and fit, she’s crazy.’’

This was a statement by a man. And I’ll be honest, I’m a little triggered.

It’s not because I disagree. But rather the fact that it suggests that women who are the opposite of those words, or who don’t fit all three of those descriptions are not crazy.

One of my bestest friends is completely neurotic. She’s pretty and fit but married and let me tell you, the stories she has told me about her husband and the things she has done are way beyond anything I could ever think up.

– she pretended to be an asian model on linked in and chatted up her husband to see if he’d take the bait

– she deleted an entire hard drive containing photos of him in his previous marriage and binned his previous wedding photos.

– she linked her phone to his so she could get into his emails and Instagram

– doesn’t allow his eldest daughter in their house or to speak her name

– checked his internet history, found porn and so gave the laptop a bath soak

I mean I could go on. And I know men who are equally ‘crazy’, pouring fish oil on car trims and leaving strategically placed make-up in the house, dating family members of their ex.

Ok so men may be more petty than crazy but my point stands.

And most often, the word crazy is used in the context of ‘its a bad thing’. If you ask my friend she’s say her actions come from a place of love, and the men from a place of hurt, anger or jealousy. But it’s interesting that all of these things are steered by emotions.

Now, I’m not saying I’m not crazy. I can definitely fall foul of my own emotions and I’ve done some pretty crazy things when that’s happened….

– I once text a guy who I hadn’t even been on a date with a fucking essay on how I felt such a strong connection and that him going quiet on me had really upset me and he was a cock blah blah blah – turns out his grandmother had died. Awks.

– I imagine any guy with dating potential in the role of groom and if he’d look good in an Elvis costume, and if I don’t think he could pull it off, I discount him immediately (have I mentioned how ambivalent to marriage I am)

– I do a social media trawl so deep that I wind up in a labyrinth of pictures and posts and can’t find my way back.

– I have put myself in places I know they frequent in the hope of running into them, and then ignored them when I do.

– I write a blog detailing all my emotions and thoughts

But are those things red flags? Do these actions that may be considered crazy to men really those of somebody imbalanced? Or is it rather a perception that an inability to manage and control emotions is a bad thing and so we should all walk round like robots? I wonder what my male friend thinks the appropriate adjective for his fellow males of the same categories is? A player? A flake? Emotionally unavailable? Has high standards? High maintenance? A pest? Abusive?

Some of those may well be fitting, but for the majority….

If he’s single, fit and handsome he’s a big fat scaredy cat. I’m going to start calling this Alpha Pussy.