"When she was down, she was very, very down. But when she was high, she could fly."

I am so exhausted, I start to think I'm going crazy-er. Crazier. I think I've slept 5 hours in the past 48. At this morning's meeting, I read the topic and then was just at a loss. Like, for once, I have nothing to say. How odd is that? I'm in a fog. Yet, I can't lay down and when I collapse onto the sofa, I only sleep for a little bit. I haven't slept in my bed the past 2 or 3 nights. I just can't. I don't know why. It's the oddest thing and I can't explain it at all except to say that it's insanity.

Yesterday was an okay day. I went to the meeting and did share...bawling, of course, like an idiot. I shared not the personal private stuff going on but just that this is the most dangerous place for me to be and if I call, please answer. I haven't had to call anyone, but I have. I've spoken to Aunt Hope. What a lifeline she is. I talked to Dad this morning but not about me. He's too sick to worry or think about me, according to me. He has enough stress with both him and Mom being ill, I didn't want to add to it. Plus, I'm afraid to talk to them about what's going on. I'm afraid they're going to tell me what a burden I am on them, emotionally and financially. I'm afraid they're going to tell me they're just going to stay South until I get my poop in a group. I'm afraid they'll turn their backs on me. And why wouldn't they?

I'm getting negative. Sorry.

Back to yesterday - I spoke first during the meeting. And then several people who spoke after basically said the same thing - "If you don't do (insert AA shit here), you'll die." If I don't have a spiritual experience, I'll die. If I don't turn it over to my higher power, I'll die. If I don't talk to others in recovery, I'll die. If I don't work the Steps, I'll die.

I listened politely. I smiled at them. And then I went about my day. I can't recall a single thing said yesterday that was actually helpful.

I helped Ben with some stuff and then hauled 4 old doors, 2 pallets and 2 old windows home with me. I'm sick of hauling stuff, but thank Dad, we have his truck!  Here's what I did with 3 of the old doors.

I'm going to hang a wreath on the center door. Something Spring-y. And maybe some of Mom's quilts from the others. I don't know. I like it. It works for me. 

I worked out last night which was awesome. I hadn't in a few days. It felt good. And I had a revelation during the cool down period. 

Religion and AA are very, very similar.  I realized that they both use fire & brimstone to make their members toe the line. Religion says you must invite and welcome Jesus Christ into your heart in order to have life everlasting. AA says you must invite and welcome your higher power into your heart in order to stay sober & live. Religion says if you don't, you will burn in hell for life everlasting. AA says if you don't, you'll die. Religion says we are all born in sin. We're all full of sin. In order to cleanse ourselves, we must be baptized and, again, accept JC as our savior. AA says we're all totally and completely flawed. We're full of resentment, anger, bitterness, self-centeredness, self-will-run-riot is their favorite saying. We're basically just shit in religion and AA. And both of them say we will suffer the severest of consequences if we don't just do what they tell us to do! 

It's all so ridiculous and unhelpful. 

“And what do we get for our faith? For the centuries we’ve given this church or that one our gifts of blood and treasure? The assurance that heaven is waiting for us at the end of it all, and when we get there, the punchline will be explained and we’ll say, ‘Oh yeah! Now I get it.’ That’s the big payoff. It’s dinned into our ears from our earliest days: heaven, heaven, heaven! We will see our lost children, our dear mothers will take us in their arms! That’s the carrot. The stick we’re beaten with is hell, hell, hell! A Sheol of eternal damnation and torment. We tell children as young as my dear lost son that they stand in danger of eternal fire if they steal a piece of penny candy or lie about how they got their new shoes wet.

There’s no proof of these after-life destinations; no backbone of science; there is only the bald assurance, coupled with our powerful need to believe that it all makes sense. But as I stood in the back room of Peabody’s [Funeral Home] and looked down at the mangled remains of my boy, who wanted to go to Disneyland much more than he wanted to go to heaven, I have a revelation. Religion is the theological equivalent of a quick-buck insurance scam, where you pay in your premium year after year, and then, when you need the benefits you paid for so –pardon the pun- so religiously, you discover the company that took your money does not, in fact, exist.” King, Stephen, Revival, pgs 72-73.

Couldn't have said it better myself. 

I don't believe in a higher power. I don't believe in a diety. I believe in my goddamn determination to stay sober, which is the only fucking thing that has kept me so the past 5 days. All I have to do is play the tape through...if I took a drink, I wouldn't stop. I'd drink to oblivion. And it wouldn't be one time. It would be ALL THE TIME. I'd ruin what relationships I have. I'd hurt my family and friends and AA. I'd drink until I died....or worse. Because, to me, there are worse things than death. Loss of everything, loss of family & friends, loss of home, loss of security, loss of love...and having to live with that. 

Drinking doesn't solve anything; it only makes it worse. And staying sober is a helluva lot easier than getting sober. Damn skippy.

So, yah, if I didn't work all the tools in my toolbox, with my own self-will & determination, I'd be drinking right now. Instead, I called friends & family. I went to meetings. I did yoga & meditated. I've stayed busy (I better since I have all these goddamn hours to fill in my day), I called my sponsor and texted her. Am I perfect? No. Definitely not. Obviously not. But I don't consider myself born in sin, nor want or need to focus on my flaws. What I need is focus on positives, because that's the hardest thing for me to do.

This may be the beginning of the end for me & AA. I want to go back to my AA, where I'm not judged, I'm not told I have to do this or that or I'll die, where people accept me and embrace me and aren't so closed-minded, where AA isn't the end-all, be-all, where there are other resources to use to continue this life of sobriety. I want that more than anything. However, I won't make any decision regarding AA in this current mental state. I will take my time and let life flow and see where I end up. I'm okay with that.

I'm still not sleeping and my body is wearing down and my brain isn't working as great as it used to and I feel like I'm not the same person I was last week or even 3 days ago. And maybe that's okay...maybe it's not. I don't know much of anything today. I'm full of hope that I will sleep tonight and I will wake up tomorrow morning refreshed and full of vigor. But if not, I have a plan to call my med-check nurse and get this shit taken care of. A person can't continue like this for very long.

With that, dear friends, I'll bid you good day and peaceful night.

Love you more,
Me

"It is hard to leave something when you are told you will die as a consequence. I can see why some people call it a cult." https://www.recoveringfromrecovery.com/leaving-aa/

I've been trying to figure life out in my head and it's getting all jumbled up so I figured, why not blog about it? Write it out. See if the picture gets any clearer.

I've been struggling the last 2 weeks. Goddamn March. Fuck you and your Irish clover and the color green and that stupid leprechaun!

I really have nothing against leprechauns or rainbows or the color green or clovers & certainly not gold. But come on, March.... Work with me here!

I missed several days last week due to being physically unwell. I wrote about that in the previous post. Catch up if you choose. The weekend was better. Saturday, I went back to a different doctor because mine wasn't in and this doctor I'm not fond of at all, but she said "You're fine" and so I was. Right? Right?!? *eye roll*

Sooooo not right.

Tho folks in AA said I was very different from Saturday to Sunday. Saturday I was much more subdued and down. Sunday I was much more up and perky. Well, sure I was. I'd been on Rexulti for 4 days. I was feeling pretty damn good. Almost too good. Like, uh-oh, is this turning into mania? Um, yeah.

Let me tell you something. Mania feels fucking great. Best feeling in the goddamn world. I can conquer anything and anybody. To do list? Fuck. How about To-Done list?! Sleep? Who fucking needs sleep? Not me! There are too many things I want to do! What can I get done next? Should I build a new house? Write a novel in one night? Scrub every motherfucking floor in my house?

Jesus.

It is not great.

In fact, mania is a far more dangerous place for me to reside than depression.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

So Saturday to Sunday, I took a turn. But not necessarily a turn for the better. I went to bed Sunday with every intention of going to work Monday morning and being a good Stepford employee. However, I woke up Monday and the first thought in my head was, "I'm not going" and when I have even an inkling of that thought, it burrows into my goddamn brain and I am incapable of turning it around. I haven't figured out how yet, and not because I'm sitting around doing nothing. I'm trying to figure it out. Goddamn, am I ever.

So, yah, Monday morning. Do you know how I got to work Monday? Because I was going to quit. That is the only reason I made it to the office. I was going to walk in, not even clock in because how rude to expect to be paid for the 10 minutes it's going to take me to quit?  I walked in and had to search for the HR woman, eventually found her and said, "I don't know what to do". I explained what was going on with me (depression, anxiety, sick) and get this. She understood. She was empathetic. She wants to work with me to get through this. She said very complimentary things about me, like, "I see such potential in you as a buyer. We need somebody stable."  STABLE. Can you believe that? As I'm sitting in her office, crying, telling her I suck at being an adult, I don't know what to do, I think the best thing is for me to quit. (AVOIDANCE much?)  I laughed at her.

She allowed me to take this past week off (unpaid, of course) to work out the problem and she said even if I come back on Monday and tell her I still want to quit, then no hard feelings. That was a relief, to One, have someone understand and Two, not have the guilt, anxiety and fear of calling in, stressing about going or not going, etc, etc, etc.

I grabbed my shit and, after telling my boss I needed the week off to deal with a personal family issue and that HR approved it, I booked it the fuck out of there and went home...and crashed.

Now, I could have stayed in bed all week, not doing jack shit and just wallowing in my misery....but  Rexulti wouldn't allow that and I guess I should be thankful for that much. At this point, I had taken .5 mg Wed, Thurs, Friday and 1 mg Saturday and Sunday (evenings).  Monday, after I crashed, I went for a walk with a friend to get out into the sunshine and get some exercise. I went to Salvation Army and bought some stupid shit and then I went to a meeting, where another member said, "I got a real problem with atheists".  I could have sat there and not shared, but, come on. How could I allow that? So, I very lovingly, kindly, politely and with a smile on my face and a lot of laughter, said "I'm an agnostic atheist. I don't have any knowledge of gods and I lack a belief in gods. But this is what I love about AA. We can all be so very diverse and respectful of each other's beliefs, even if we totally disagree." 

Yah right. Dude wouldn't even look at me the rest of the night. Whatever. I guess you got it all figured out, huh?

But I digress.

(You could almost skip this entire section because I basically give you my agenda for each day, which you probably don't give 2 shits about, but I need to do this for my own record. So skip ahead if you like. I'll tell you when it's safe to read again. :)  ) 

Monday evening, I took .5 mg because I could feel myself ramping up. Tuesday, I tackled a bunch of shit at home, made phone calls to get in to the med-check lady and my therapist and was just busy all damn day. Didn't even nap. Nor did I sleep much Tuesday night... a few hours, at best.  My alarm went off at 4 Wednesday morning, I shut it off, but still woke up 20 minutes later. I needed to wake up and get ready to go to the CB AA meeting at 7AM. I went. It was good. I was rather perky and for the first time ever in that meeting, chose the reading. I'd never done that in that particular meeting before. Odd. Almost 7 years later and I did. Better late than never, right?

I then went to NFM with a friend and bought a new living room set. Because I'm practically jobless, so that seemed like a good idea. *eye roll* I bought a loveseat outright, so at least there's that. I put the rest on credit with 0% interest for 2 years so at least I'm not a total fucking idiot. But still. Come on, Amy! You have to have a job to pay off even 0% interest! So maybe I am a total fucking idiot. I was excited. I didn't stop moving. Ever. My body is so goddamn tired, I can't even explain it.

I met with my med-check lady after NFM and she said, "Whoa. I was expecting crying, sobbing, catatonic Amy. But this isn't good...." At least she got it. I couldn't shut up. I just talk, talk, talk. How annoying am I? So, even though I was high, presumably because of the Rexulti, she thinks we just need to find the balance. The right combination. Maybe every other day. Maybe every 2 days. Maybe .5 one night and 1 mg the next and so on and so forth. It's just finding the right combination.

My insurance won't cover it. Of course not. And it's $1200.00.  Luckily, my provider has a plethora of samples which they're giving me. They're my dealer.

After med-check, I went back to Salvation Army and bought more shit I don't need  (at least I'm shopping thrift stores and not Kohl's). I got home around 4. I did not nap. I went to bed that night after 9 and was awake at 11. Wide awake. I painted. Until 4AM. I slept for a couple more hours and then back at it.

Thursday, I got a massage (I love this masseuse and the massages she gives), went to therapy where Tausha pointed out my behavior pattern of AVOIDANCE. No shit, Sherlock. How do I fucking stop it is the question!!  So she suggested doing yoga, meditating (I already do every morning, work or not...hasn't helped, tho); Going for a walk with a friend. Um, yah, who exactly is going to get up at 5AM to go walking with me? I don't have a good enough friend who would do that for me, nor am I ballsy enough to even ask. Tausha suggested making a PRO's list. I don't needs a CONS list. I've got that down pat. I need a PRO's list to remind me of why I wanted this job in the first place.

And that was pretty much it. All very good suggestions.

New furniture. Accent chair is on backorder.

After therapy, I borrowed Dad's truck and drove to NFM to get my new furniture because I was too antsy to wait 2 weeks for it to be delivered. I hauled it home, a friend & I unloaded it. I hauled my old couch to a friend and almost died carrying it up his stairs, so after that, I wasn't in the mood to be around him any longer....without throat punching him.

It boggles my mind how few people know how to pack and move shit. Like, obviously your father was nothing like mine because mine taught me the proper way to pack the bed of a truck, tie shit down and carry stuff up stairs and how to properly get it through the doorway. Thank you Dad! But it so irritated me that I knew if I hung around, I'd do, if not physical harm, certainly verbal harm. So I left.

And I went to bed at 9 and finally slept. Jesus I slept hard. I woke up at 6 this morning feeling like I could sleep another 9 hours....but I didn't. I got up. I meditated. I yoga'd. I bathed. I went to lunch with Shan, tho didn't really get to talk about what's going on. *sigh* Stopped by the library, got the key, got some movies and ran errands downtown. I came home, in a food coma, and napped on my new loveseat. I got up and intended to write this post then, but got distracted by going through family pictures on my computer and moving them to my phone and I got sad and cried and then I saw a picture of Chris (the ex, not the brother) & I and felt like I was going to vomit. Goddamn, I loved that fucking asshole and even now, I want to message him. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just turned my phone off to make it more difficult to do so. I don't trust myself.

(You can resume reading now, if you took the break you so richly deserve from reading this crazy fucking madness.) 

Then a guy friend came over and he was his typical self which just annoys the fuck out of me and I'm just not in the mood to cater to anyone's needs right now, nor is he helpful at all, so I reached out to my sponsor....who I had not spoken to since last weekend.

I forget I have one! I really do. It's odd. I'm not really the type of person to call on people when I'm in need, unless it's my mom & dad, and even then, I'm less likely at this age to call them for talk-therapy because that's just not who they are and I know that so rather than expecting something different from them and then being disappointed because I didn't receive what I needed in that moment, I just don't expect that from them. They support me in so many other ways....let's give them a break from crazy Amy, shall we?

I'm just not one to call people when I need. Am I? Maybe I am. I don't know. Right now, I'm not. I try. I do! I tried to get with Shan all damn week but it never worked out because of life and then today it did work out, and I tried to share with her my struggle, but it wasn't really being received (distractions), so.... yah. One person. I reached out to one person. Tho I did go to med-check lady and I did go to therapy. I'm doing what I'm supposed to do....but I guess it's not enough.

I should've called my sponsor much earlier than this evening.

And here's my problem with AA.

After sharing with her everything....literally everything.... she did what a sponsor does. She asked how we can work the steps through this problem...and that I should think of the steps in terms of alcoholism, not alcohol, because it seems to her that my problems are alcoholism.

Hm.

So my depression and anxiety and mania and craziness are alcoholism? They're all a result of my alcoholism? They're not stand-alone? Or maybe, just maybe, they're what brought on or caused the alcoholism. How about that? Because that's what I think. I don't think the depression, etc are a result of alcoholism. I think alcoholism is a result of those things. But what I took away from her was that, I clearly have issues with my mood, but that alcoholism is the core.

Is it? Am I just too stubborn to see that? Or is this just shit?

I do just fine with AA as long as I don't delve too deeply into it. Do you understand what I mean? If I don't look too closely at it, if I only look at it peripherally, then it's fine. I can make do. But when I start to go deeper into AA, I see such religious, AA-righteous, "do this or you'll die", ambiguous teachings, antiquated teachings, Steps that aren't effective (3%, folks. 3-fucking-% success rate). I see gossip and hurtful things. I've read the Big Book much  more recently because of the meeting I started and think, "How have I stayed in AA so fucking long? This is really a religious program." I read the Daily Reflections every morning. It's 95% of the time about God and God with a capital "G". They don't even try to pretend it isn't about GOD. If they did, they wouldn't capitalize G. If it wasn't religious, why do we say the Serenity Prayer and the Lord's Prayer? Why do I need a higher power to pray to? I don't believe in prayer. I believe in the power of thought. Is that all they mean? I think not. I believe in nature. Does that mean I should pray to it?

*sigh* It's all so frustrating to me.

My sponsor is funny and smart and lovely and I would love to be her friend in real life (outside of AA), but this is my problem. She wants me to look at AA a little too closely and ya know what? I wanted to work the fucking steps. I did. And maybe I still can....just in a different way. Hm. That's a new realization. Maybe I can rewrite the steps. Keep the basis the same, but remove all religiousness. I think I shall at least try. I know there are secular AA meetings that have probably already gone though the process. I can pilfer from them.

Back to my sponsor phone call. She also questioned my med check lady and how my Rexulti is dispensed and the terms in which I take them. My med-check lady basically left it up to me. "As needed". She just said to call her when I need her. I'm capable of that. Clearly. Yet, my sponsor said that's a dangerous place for an addict to be.

I've never abused drugs, except to try to harm myself, lol, so I guess I have. But not in an addict-sort-of-way. Never. It just doesn't appeal to me. I don't enjoy the effect of drugs. Hell, I don't even enjoy the effects of alcohol at this point. I honestly think if I were to go to a bar or buy alcohol at the store, it'd be shocking for me to do so without having a major catastrophic crisis of conscience. But say I did. Say I went to a bar. Imagine that glass of beer (or whatever) sitting in front of me. Do you think I would be able to pick it up and drink it?

Writing that, as I was writing it, I thought, "Oh god, yes I would. I would guzzle that beer so fucking fast, I can almost taste it."  I would. And god, I can taste it.

(pause)

I took a 1.5 hour break from this post. After I wrote that last bit, I freaked out and immediately texted Shan and got my ass down to her house and cried and laughed and talked and listened. And now I'm finally hungry and tired so rather than finish all of my thoughts on this tonight or even wait to finish it tomorrow, I'm going to post what I have and hope to get back to it tomorrow. But if I don't.... I was going to say "Don't worry" but that's ridiculous. My sponsor said one good thing tonight that I'll take with me: There's good selfish and bad selfish. Right now, I'm in need so being selfish is good. Think of the stewardesses speech at the beginning of each flight. Put the mask on yourself first and then help the person next to you....because if you're dead, you can't help a damn soul.

"Hello darkness my old friend." "I ain't your friend."

I think I figured something out today and I can't believe it's taken me this long to figure it out.

Did I write about March being a bad month for me, traditionally, throughout my life? And how I found several websites about Reverse SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) and how I thought, "Finally! A reason!" 

Yeah, well, now I think there's a strong correlation between seasonal allergies and depression. I'm not saying everybody with allergies gets depressed and I'm certainly not saying depression causes allergies. That'd be ridiculous, right?

I am saying, however, that having allergies (if that's what this is, which I assume so) makes me fatigued and sleepy and sick with a headache, body aches, coughing, runny nose, stuffy nose, sneezing...and that all of that leads to feeling mentally unwell - somehow "less than" normal people, worthless, hopeless. I want to crawl into bed and stay there. I contemplate ending my life because what's the point if I'm never going to make it as an adult? What am I doing, exactly? Who am I benefiting by existing? Why would any employer hire me? Why do my friends even care about me? I'm nothing. I'm nobody.

See how quickly that all happens? Jesus. It's no wonder I've been in therapy most of my adult life.

BUT! There is hope. 

Somehow, even though I know when I get physically ill, my mental health quickly follows suit, reading a bunch of scientific studies on-line about the relationship between allergies and depression made me feel....better. 

Now, do I feel better because it's Friday and I don't have to worry about going to work or not going to work for 2 days? Do I feel better because I can breathe even though my head hurts and my chest hurts and I'm still coughing...being able to breathe through my nose makes me feel like I'm returning to "normal"? Do I feel better because I literally slept all day? Do I feel better because I took a bath with epsom salt & essential oils? Do I feel better because I rubbed said essential oils on my chest to release the tightness? Do I feel better because I did some peaceful yoga? Do I feel better because Pysch is on t.v.?

Maybe it's all of those things. Maybe it's none of those things. Who the fuck knows?

I'm not saying my thoughts have suddenly cleared and I'm all "happy, happy, joy, joy" because I'm not. But for tonight, at least, I don't feel like I'm going to have any more suicidal thoughts. I'm focusing my thoughts on the positive and am grateful for this day, as shitty as its been. I'm especially grateful for this blog and the ability to share without actually having to speak and for all of you who help bring me back to sanity. I'm grateful for this beautiful house and for Garfield and for all of my friends & family and for a job I don't deserve and for exercise and yoga and meditation and candles and incense and Spring and the sound of birds and for early mornings and for late nights...

And now my boss just texted me asking if I went back to the doctor today which I did consider but did not do, tho I did call my shrink and left a message to call me back because I need to get a handle on this depression and didn't hear anything back from her, so..... now the anxiety is back and I'm feeling like the shittiest person on earth and I don't want to lie to my boss but I don't necessarily want to tell her exactly what I'm going through either. 

Why do I have to make everything so damn hard?

Here are some articles I read about allergies & depression:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/04/12/health/12really.html

https://www.achooallergy.com/learning/the-link-between-allergies-depression/

http://www.cnn.com/2011/HEALTH/04/20/allergies.depression.moods/index.html

"I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure a Nyquil margarita will solve all your problems."

Yes, I'm sick.

In more ways than one, though.

You well know that if my physical health takes a nosedive - and not even a very steep nosedive, at that- it's a very small step to the deterioration of my mental health.

I started to get sick Saturday with a dry persistent cough. Sunday, sore throat, dry cough. My sinuses felt fine. My throat hurt. Monday I woke up and thought, "I really do not want to go to work" and that's all it took. One stupid simple negative thought and my brain wouldn't let it go. Obsess much? I ended up going to work, but left early to go to the doctor to see if it was flu.

It wasn't. Of course not. It's a goddamn cold which can't be treated with any antibiotics so I'm stuck with OTC shit that makes me loopier than if I didn't take them. I decided to try Alka Seltzer Cold & Cough because that worked for me ONE TIME, 10 YEARS AGO.

Jesus.

It made me sick. So guess what? No more of that.

I did not go to work Tuesday or Wednesday. I slept the majority of those 2 days and went to work Thursday. Why, I don't know, because I wasn't any better and in fact, I think it did me more harm than good. By the end of the work day, the cough that had dissipated, came back phlegmy.

Yum.

Last night was by far the worst. I could at least sleep before. Last night, the stuffy nose and head full of snot began. I tried to sleep with a Breathe Right strip, to no avail. I got out of bed this morning and thought, "Fuck no, I'm staying right here".

And so I did.

It's too early in this new job to miss so many days in one goddamn week. I haven't been there nearly long enough to not want to go already.

Yes, I'm sick and here's how I know I'm sick. I haven't sang since Sunday. I sing every damn day, every time I get a chance, in the tub, in the car, while I'm cooking, while I'm working out, every chance I get, I sing. Not a peep since Sunday and I'm not even sure I sang that day. I just know I haven't sang in my car or at home all week. It didn't hit me until last night. I never realized how often I sing and how much I enjoy it, until I can't.

But so what? So I have a sore throat? So my head is full of snot? So I've slept a shit-ton this week? So I'm still so tired I can't keep my hands at 10 & 2 on the steering wheel? So. What. I could go to work. I proved that yesterday by going and suffering through it all day. Other adults go to work sick all the time. Hell, people with cancer and chemo treatments still go to work..... So why can't I?

I've beat myself up every damn day this week because 1. I'm sick 2. I'm weak 3. I'm not normal 4. I can't figure out what my deal is.

I talked to my sponsor about it last night and she laughed and said it's an alcoholic thing.

Really? Because all my life I thought it was just me, sucking at life, sucking at adulting, sucking at normal. It's good to know it isn't just me, that there are plenty of other sick-o's out there who behave the same way I do. It doesn't make it okay, by any means, but it does give me a little bit of validation. Like, maybe I'm not the one person in all of humanity who sucks at life in this particular respect.

I still don't understand it and I still think there is something inherently wrong with me and I honestly don't know how to change it....but maybe once my head clears, I'll be able to think it all through.


On another note, I don't know how this keeps happening but my roles in relationships tend to be whatever male role from my immediate previous relationship. 

For example, after Chris, I dated Ricky. Suddenly, Ricky was me and I was Chris (from my previous relationship).  And now I'm not in a relationship because I flat-out refuse to be, but I sort-of am and suddenly I'm Ricky and this new guy is me from that previous relationship. It's weird.

When I was with Ricky, I was insecure and untrusting and needy and way clingy (like Chris was with me) and Ricky was much more secure, more mature, more independent, not needy in the least (as I was with Chris before).  Now, I wouldn't say I'm any of those positive attributes Ricky exhibited, but I'm certainly not needy and more like anti-needy: "I don't need you. You can go away at any time and I'd be just fine with that. I don't even like you." That's how I felt Ricky thought when we were together, like he must not really want me because he's not behaving in the way I've learned shows "like", "want", "need" or "love". I realize now, he was simply behaving as a healthy male adult should behave.

I remember when Ricky was sick and I couldn't see him. Ugh. It made me uncertain and scared and needy and behave poorly. And now I'm sick and I don't really want to see anyone or be around anyone and everyone can just fuck off...but this guy is needy and demanding and pouty and whiny and so fucking annoying. So here I am reflecting on my behavior when I was with Ricky and his behavior towards me and my current behavior with this dude and wondering if it's Karma that I switch roles every relationship or if it's all just learned behavior.

Well! This was very apropos.

I don't know.... and because I don't care if this guy stays or goes, I feel almost compelled to be my most straight-forward self and say "This is what I need. If you can't give me that, there's the door." And while it's incredibly rude, it's also very freeing to finally be able to say whatever the fuck I want to say and not worry about another person's feelings...because mine are totally protected.

If this pattern continues, that means the next relationship I'm going to be in, I'll be needy (again), whiny, clingy, annoying, a regular sap and he'll be rude and disrespectful and for some inane reason, I'll stick around and take it.

It's a fucked-up world I create.

I don't know...

But I do know, I'm not in a receptive place so any comments you feel like sharing will not be received from a place of gratitude. Probably more from a place of "fuck off, you don't know me" which is totally irrational because only you people "know" me.

And now I'm exhausted from typing and thinking and feeling shitty about myself so I'm gonna go back to bed and just lay there.