All the Things Are Different

It’s been a very long time since I sat down in front of my blog.

Things have been tough. I think my last post was somewhat related to suicide; thoughts of suicide? I’m not even sure. I see no point in going back to find out.

Let me remind everyone who I am as quickly as possible.

2011, had a massive stroke. I am now without use of my left side.

I had a baby that same year.

2017, my common law husband and father of my 2 boys moved out.

I am now a single mother of 2 with no job, no idea how to progress in life, and struggling to learn to navigate life as if I was 21 with no responsibilities.

It hasn’t been 2 years since what I refer to as my “divorce.” I just ended a really awkward and not-so-great relationship with a dude I’ve been dating for roughly 3 months. Let me tell you, dating is f*ucking hard. Like stupidly hard. Like so hard that I really just don’t want to do it.

I hooked up with my kids’ dad in 200…5? I honestly don’t even know. We were 12.5 years in when he moved out Easter 2017. Online dating was still done on laptops and PC when we met. People still went into chat rooms, like those creepy white squares where everyones text is scrolling by so fast you got lost in conversations at times. I didn’t have Myspace, Facebook was still relatively unknown, and my flip phone still charged me per minute before 7 p.m and per text.

Now, here I am surrounded by all these apps people are throwing at me to try because, apparently, people don’t randomly meet each other and find their vibes mesh awesomely well together anymore. I am not a fan of this. I’m finding myself having to explain things about myself that I just don’t want to. “Oh, when we meet, ignore the limp…and uselessly hanging arm…and growing bald spot from a brain surgery, nobiggie, really.”

I’m An Embarrassing Wreck of A Woman

The thing is, I have literally nothing to offer a man. I’ve no money, family other than my boys, no friends, no future in anything, my food stamps and disability are hardly enough to support myself and two kids because I do not ask, beg or lie for more than the government has decided I need. I’m a stoner, slacker, and I’m pretty boring. I have looks. I’m 36 but I barely look 30. I look better than decent without makeup and like a model with it. But I also have low self-esteem because I’m very, helplessly loud, opinionated, emotional, passionate, and too honest for my own good. I am not easy to get used to, handle, or love. I have a permanent STI and all the brain injury stuff. It’s a lot to explain repeatedly over some dating app. I’ve decided not to.

Over the summer I decided to tell everything to f*ck off and just learn to be comfortable being alone with my two boys. Why worry about a partner if I cant be my own, first? It was not as difficult as I thought it would be. I learned to fill my time alone when my kids went to their dad’s. I took baths, so many of them. I started cooking meals just for myself. Drinking, not to numb myself but because it felt good to soak in a tub with a full belly and a buzz. I loved it.

And I was like…

Somehow, after learning to be with myself, learning to enjoy my time alone, I met a guy and boom, I was like, “me, who?”

With this guy, I quickly discover what I want with a man. This guy is giving me ideas and I’m falling in love with them. Not him; the idea. Let me be clear. I told him my secrets, and like always, he accepted them. Why was I worried? This is so easy! Concerts, breakfast in the afternoon, spending literally full days in bed. I’ve never done that before. In my 36 years of life I have never spent an entire day in bed with a man, rolling around, having sex, smoking pot, drinking coffee and laughing and making out for no reason. I loved it all. But I knew he wasn’t for me. Physically, he is not what I want in a man. He was 40 but he reminded me of the boys I had crushes on in Junior high. Skinny, hat with the rim bent almost entirely into itself, always up on an angle on his head like he just didn’t care. Bass player for a metal band. But he was also an alcoholic. And he didn’t want the kind of future I wanted. I still have time to build, maybe not with new babies but can build nonetheless.

The worst part? Before meeting ST, I had found my sexuality again. Despite the horrendous gifts I bring, I had a man I could call but never had to because he always called me. Sex, 3-4/week. Sometimes he brought food. He wanted nothing more than what we had. I needed more and somehow, in my search for this elusive “more,” I managed to give up everything I had found within myself. ST couldn’t even keep up with me sexually. I told him first thing I have a very strong appetite. I mean, we’re talking years of sexual deprevity due to a passionless marriage. I have A LOT of making up to do and my body is demanding every moment it deserves. I suppose ST didn’t exactly understand, or simply underestimated the depth of my hunger.

I Learned A Lot

Like, for instance, I still have a lot to learn.

I want all that fun stuff as much as I deserve them.

I do not have to sacrifice my time, myself, my body’s wants and needs, for some guy.

I do not have to settle.

My disabilty/ies are not reason/s to hide from any/every thing/one

I’ve been holding myself back for a very long time, and I learn to not only stop doing that, but to push myself forward instead.

I’ll Get There

One of the most important things is that I keep listening to my gut, my kids, my heart, and my head. I have so much to do in my present life. I need to focus on myself as a woman and a mother before I start the whole enter man, situation again. I have to do it right this time. I can’t keep losing myself whenever I meet someone…new or old. It’s likely going to take more than one mistake. I tried so hard to keep myself whole while this guy and I failed…but not miserably. I’ve seen a light and it wasn’t bright…yet. I will dig myself towards in hopes it is not the ass of a glow worm…