Whiskey Momma

After I published the “Intimacy” blog I received multiple emails and stories about how those readers could relate to how I was feeling and what I was experiencing. Every story was a little different, but all the same, I loved, I was crushed, I’ll never trust again. Guess who sent me the most messages…MEN. The men who responded outnumbered the women four to one.

However, the one difference between the men’s stories and women’s stories was profoundly enlightening. In a nutshell, most women, when crushed by “love” or what they perceived as love, they look for it again, and usually, as quickly as possible. There were some exceptions, and they know who they are, however, we can talk about that more later in another blog…

So the men who responded on the “way other hand of the universe,” Like me, they report shutting the vault, welding the combination lock, the hinges, and all around the seal, then they wrapped a quarter inch pull chain around the vault really tight, then locked and welded it too, Then they bury any real thoughts, feelings, and urges to act on said thoughts and feelings that may present themselves when interacting with possible partners.

Almost all of them reported having sexual interactions with partners in which they have and have had “no intentions of ever marrying” and with the exception of a couple, “kept this information secret” from their perspective partners. The persons who were honest with their partners had different life situations, and were comfortable with the partners knowing, however, most have chose to keep their sexual exploits secret from the other partners. Either way, all those who shared reported feeling hatred, rage, disgust, vengeful, and an overall sense of unhappiness .

So what is it that one does, and/or, may tell themselves (me sometimes for sure) that keeps us at a standstill and putting ourselves back out “there” wherever the fuck that may be??? We dilute ourselves with variations of excuses to “keep ourselves safe,” however, it’s still all defense mechanisms to “protect” our ego, thus not allowing a real and intimate human connection to happen, the way social creatures usually need in order to feel connected.

The list is not limited to what is written below, and I have omitted some of the more super unhealthy, criminal behaviors that were shared. However, I’m sure you can use your imagination…

*We hold on to fantasies and memories, especially when there is a long history with the person. Doing this gives us a movie to play in our head over and over, making us comfortable with not moving forward.

*Telling yourself that you’ll get them back if you try hard enough (PS this usually entails some sort of psychotic/psychopathic behavior)

*No one will ever measure up, if they do, we will ALWAYS find evidence that there are other negative qualities that do not measure up.

*Then the usual excuses we tell ourselves: they are too smart, not smart enough, too ambitious, not ambitious enough, I’m not good enough, they’re not good enough, they work too much, they don’t work enough, too ugly, too fat, too skinny, too light, too dark, not enough tattoos(yep, this is a thing), my friends won’t like them, my friends will like them too much, not popular enough, too popular (especially in a sexual manner), too desperate, bad-hair, teeth, skin…Blah, blah, blah…

***Because I’m the author and I am dealing with this shit right now…how about, she’s a therapist and will know/read into too much, be too critical, know when I’m full of shit, try to analyze me, try to change me, read my mind…FUCK it’s exhausting! UGH! You need not be concerned with that, you should be concerned with my right cross and upper cut, in addition to my ability to hit center mass and head during target practice.

NOPE…While we tend to focus on that bullshit and not the real issues, like drug & alcohol use, depression, and other self-destructive behaviors that surrounds us everyday. WHY???? Why do we choose to hold onto toxic and self-destructive relationships, or worse yet, the fantasy of the relationship that will NEVER happen.

The drama that comes with these beliefs is fucking exhausting. The emotional rollercoaster is dangerous and tiring, and the science that supports the dumbass theory that one will ever get the person back is the equivalent of plucking flower petals and landing on he/she loves me…NO they don’t fucking love you, and probably don’t give a shit about you either. Because if they did, you wouldn’t feel terrible right now.

Who can and why would anyone want to try to keep up? Here are some reasons to let it (the fantasy)fucking go…

*You are not the same people you were when the relationship began, or better yet, when it ended! Depending on the situation, that person does not exist.

*They did not CHOOSE you, and are not going to change their minds. No book, no class, and no amount of drinking will change this.

*You CANNOT fix them. EVER (My personal favorite to try) You will turn blue and die before they listen to you. (Trust me I know)

*You have changed yourself for someone who doesn’t care about you, ONLY what you can do for them. (Narcissistic much?)

*Your mental well being is suffering. Which means your self-worth is depreciating, you cannot afford the loss.

*You feel alone, even when you’re not alone. You tell yourself you have a fulfilling life, i.e. kids, sports, work. Reality is, you are waiting for a fantasy.

*You are LYING to yourself (you eventually believe the bullshit you’re selling yourself). You are LYING to everyone else. People don’t like that, you’ll lose friends because they will tire of seeing you self-destruct and wait for their calls.

Now that I have ranted on about what we tell ourselves, let’s talk about the consequences of not making significant changes…the biggest one is, wait for it: YOU WILL LOSE. AGAIN…YOU WILL LOSE

The consequences of closing the heart, the mind, and the general spirit of finding or seeking out “love” can be profoundly negative. The most obvious negative is not being able to form intimate relationships with others that serve more of a human connection versus a physical/sexual connection. Most people are able to have a sexual relationship, however, as previously mentioned, intimacy is more about having a sense of human connectivity which can ultimately lead to a higher sense of self worth, self value, and happiness knowing that you are not alone in the world.

Another consequence of having an unattached sex life, you will be brought into a level of theatrics (drama) in an effort to manipulate and gain control over the outcome of the relationship. This is where being a girl (ME) is helpful. So listen up men, I am giving you a gold mine of information that most of you will ultimately refuse to listen to because you have a way to not give a fuck about anything other than the pleasure principle. (I can vouch that some people never listen)

Most humans crave attention. At some point, any type of attention from whoever they can get it from is reinforcing a behavior. Examples include but are not limited to, “playing the victim”-most have a fantastic back story and can whip one up to be rescued at a moments notice. Others are less “hero and rescue” based, but nonetheless significantly problematic, i.e. threatening suicide or self-harm, pregnancy scares, social media drama, and job interfering (especially if you sleep with coworkers). The list of creative manipulative techniques is long and exhaustive, but tried and true.

But the ultimate consequence of keeping ourselves closed off…we will not get the person who we are really meant to be there with. We are so focused on the negative, we are missing the positive in front of our nose as we cut it off to spite ourselves. We will never know love, connection, and support the way we could. It’s not what we deserve, but the way we could, because they will walk away fearlessly into the night.

I will walk away. Then, I will lead other women and men who have put their hearts on the line and have been ignored due to having others’ past behaviors held against them. We will educate hearts and minds about how they are missing out on real love and connection versus collecting scraps of attention from someone who is broken and closed off.

I challenge all of you who are hurting and choose to use this way of life to make superficial connections to look at yourself. Look at how you hold yourself back. I encourage you to fall. Fall hard. Put everything out there. (Of course this will take lots of time cause just putting it all out at once is just dumb and unsafe)

I am closed off sometimes and build that steel reinforced, 10 foot concrete wall, but I’m not giving up. I mostly want to have happiness and connection…but it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Reach out, talk, be brave to tell the person your history of pain and suffering. Take the journey together as long as it’s not destructive. Lean on someone for that support.

Just a friendly reminder that sometimes the facts of my stories are always truthful but sometimes vague so I can protect the innocent, the helpful, and the fucked up.

This blog entry is meaningful for me for a few reasons. One-although I have experienced kindness on many open roads, I recently experienced good mental health support during an interaction that could have had significant long term consequences. Two-it’s funny how small the circle of life really is.

My week was bad. Overdoses, suicide attempts, mean and angry people (not just me), lies, pain, suffering, and overall just a pretty regular week. I was lucky to get a night out of town to visit friends. My drive was “spectacularly” thrown off course when while on the phone (with Princess B).

Forty miles out of my way, with Ed Sheeran blaring in my ears, I found myself driving “ninetyish” miles an hour. Then I was like, what the fuck! “That’s way too fast!” So I slowed to “eightyish” feeling relieved because that’s a much safer, right! Next, there was a pretty white car driving towards me and I knew. FOR SURE.

It was like a movie. He passed me, then simultaneously pulled onto the shoulder to whip his car around, while flipping those beautiful lights on to chase what could only be someone who robbed a bank or gas station. I may have considered the thrill of a chase, but of course would never break the law in such an obvious and felonious way.

When I seen the writing on the wall, of course I pulled over to await my fate. To be clear, over twenty years of speeding, I was due my just desserts. The officer, whom we will call “The Huntsman” because he is tasked to uphold laws and directives however, the Huntsman also uses integrity and good judgement to do what is just and right.

As the Huntsman carefully approached my open window his hand was tactically placed to defend if necessary, and he asked me if I was alright. Clearly, he was expecting something or someone very different than who he was actually encountering. I responded by telling him, “I was about to find out, if I was alright.”

The Huntsman was thoughtful and asked good questions to ensure I was not a threat to him or myself. We talked about driver safety, the danger of not having more coping skills (than speeding and whiskey) and how our fields of work tends to create a high level of stress. He used his mental health first aid skills like a PRO!

We talked for several minutes on ten side of the road and realized we both knew “Sheriff Nottingham” in addition to our mutual fondness of whiskey. When we parted I was able to appreciate how taking the risk I was taking could have had a terrible and negative impact on my life, which would have affected my little responsibilities as well as my job.

For the past few weeks I have thought about the interaction that evening. Of course I still speed, however, I am more thoughtful about where and when I speed. The Huntsman and I shared a nice glass of whiskey via messaging consisting solely of good amber and good conversation. I discovered an art of conversation I had previously been unable to practice.

It was simple and easy (well as easy as it could be without ever practicing). I learned information about this person without flirting or using finesse (manipulation, I know, I was shocked too). Maybe it was the Basil Hayden, maybe it was the fact that we are several miles apart so there’s no pressure to be anything or anyone different than who we are.

Maybe the proclaimed “devil on my shoulder” has been more of a positive influence. Maybe seemingly “bad ideas” aren’t all bad. The only facts I have right now are…Ive has several interactions with the opposite sex that have been light hearted and they feel sincere and easy.

I currently have a low level of expectations from others, where before I had no expectations which, in my mind, allowed me to feel in control of situations. However, I’m finding that having some expectations feels more balanced. I feel less need to be “in control” or “build walls.”

The “consequences” of me getting “caught” driving eighty-one miles per hour was putting myself in a position of complete submission(which I’ve never ever been). Doing so, I was forced to sit with the feelings of not having control over the outcome from my actions. I was honest and vulnerable during the exchange and as a result “The Huntsman” was able to see the benefits of being “just and right.”

I’m going to keep trying this different approach and take the risk of being hurt by having expectations. I’ll keep moving forward in this journey, not alone And not feeling alone, but with many who have the same struggle.

Music is a huge part of most humans’ life. We use music to relax (almost every patient had said this), we use music to cope with loss/grief to remind us of our loved ones. Sometimes we use it to cope with endings…the writing on the repeat button was faded on my stereo after listening to Mariah Careys’ “Day Dream” album so many times (don’t judge). This album worked for me for a few reasons, seduction, sorrow, and irreverence. Music is much more accessible in 2019 than 1995, I imagine if I had the same access as I do now, (I love Apple radio) I would have been so overwhelmed with choices, my undeveloped mind and hormones would have been a hot fucking mess.

Segway into the present. I have been overwhelmed more days than not with various music types-Love, hate, RAGE, sadness, stoner, classical, reggae, chants, and Latin (which is a huge hit in my car). My mood changes daily…kidding, I’m, a woman, that means it may change from minute to minute; and for the assuming men, second to second. I own it, but I also control that shit with anything possible to make sure I don’t come across as “hysterical” cause god forbid a human have feelings and a uterus. (A different story altogether)

However, it’s the love songs have been my nemesis of late. For me, and maybe you, they hold a secret promise, a living or painful memory, and recently (yesterday) I began to see hope in a love song. (Blew my mind) it started when I was triggered by a song by James Arthur, “Falling Like Stars” on Friday, which ignited anger, I wasn’t prepared to experience because I was participating in a “paint a picture” group and the lyrics, “I swear to God, when I come home I’ll never let you go,” I seriously almost lost my shit.

Then a miracle happened, the wonderful bartender put a lovely (super fucking strong) low ball glass of Crown in front of me. I’m sorry, if that’s not divine intervention…I’m not sure what is. The night continued and I ignored the music at the risk of being triggered again. Choosing to flirt with the art teacher and a librarian instead. (It was harmless, no one was hurt)

However, the damage had already been done and I wasn’t going home. I stopped at the tap house and grabbed some pizza and a few more amber lovelies. The conversation was great, the music was preseason football, and shockingly I still felt affected by the lyrics that the obnoxious table of loud and drunk married people could not drown out. I called in a lifeline from a hero, and got a ride home and was safe. At least from driving. Unfortunately, my mind was alone and focusing on those lyrics.

The next day was only a few hours away and so were my responsibilities. As I tried to fall asleep, I thought about it (ruminated obsessively), and processed what specifically it was about that song, which lead to other songs, that have such a profound effect my (and others) mood changes. I fell asleep thinking about that song…the next day when I was working with a vocal student that trigger song came on. My urge was to turn it, but I believe in fate, especially if I’m working to avoid something. So I masochistically listened.

The words were beautiful. I experienced a brief moment of clarity. My mind was fighting against the pain I’ve experienced in the past weeks, months, and years. (That’s what it’s supposed to do, right) It was afraid that listening to music that ultimately leads to having hope of love, a healthy family, and having a person to “come home to,” “not being scared” to “feel safe” will be my ultimate ruin. Okay. That may be a slight exaggeration.

What promise can a song make? None. Even if someone dedicated a song to me, what is the promise. The only real promise from a song is that it will invoke thought and feelings, and speaking for me, urges and behaviors. When my grandpa was dying in the hospital I heard “Say Something” by Big World. The moment the song came on, I knew he was gone. When I hear “Stars” by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, I think of him and feel a sense of peace.

When I listen to “Somewhere Out There” by Linda Ronstadt and James Ingram, I’m immediately transported to a single night singing with my best friend and then my babies. I feel love from those thoughts. When I hear anything by Guns N Roses or Firehouse I’m nostalgic then angry. Music is the heart of so many emotions based on our memories. Because, Trisha Yearwood said it best, “The Song Remembers When.”

I’m going to continue to struggle with some music depending on the day, but you know what? I already did that! This new journey has only increased my sensitivity and awareness that has always been there. I loosely listened to Ed Sheeran most of the morning and evening yesterday while I did chores and had company. I seen a progression of his life through his music. It was beautiful as it is dedicated to his life with his wife. He defends her, leaves to be with her, and basically has built a life with her through his music (and IRL).

I’m in my progression. I’m guessing many of you are too, based on so much of your feedback, and I know when I really hate a song I send a message to tell one person that I’m in a hating mood. But those days are getting further apart. I can only hope this is a sign of better days…or at least days I turn to music for loving inspiration versus vindication.

There’ll be an actual playlist soon! I painfully listened to hundreds of songs that may be helpful for readers who love music! Stay tuned!!

Intimacy means deeply knowing another person and in return feeling deeply known. This does not occur in a quick conversation in a bar or even during sex. Sometimes feeling deeply known does not correlate with being understood either. However, the willingness to actively listen to the other person to ensure the other person feels deeply known is a start towards personal and emotional intimacy.

What does this look like you ask? Great question! I can mostly explain and describe what it looks like on a superficial level, AND what I’ve done and what I’m continuing to do moving forward to be deeper and more meaningfully intimate. After careful consideration and processing there are a few historical events that I’m going to share, which significantly contribute to my being guarded and fearful of commitment as intimacy.

When I was a child I was sexually abused. This trauma created a mistrust in adults. Not only a mistrust, but a belief that (because they were relatives) this was “love.” I won’t get into the details of that part of my life, but I will say, this was during an impressionable time of developing attachments and learning who I can trust and not trust to provide structure and security. This also left me feeling a sense of worthlessness.

A couple years after my last memory of being abused, I learned what infidelity was and that when it happens, there is screaming, crying, and lies. (Who the hell wants that???) But that’s fixed itself and all was better after a short time…fast forward through years of angry emotions, miles and distance separating loved ones, ultimately another betrayal, then divorce. Which led to the feelings of being unwanted and unlovable.

Seeing this happen in my immediate and close outer circles of my life, in addition to my abuse, I knew when I was fourteen, marriage and children were not in my life plan. Boyfriends were kept secret, and if they got too close or said the word “love” (which, who says that after a week?) Who in their right mind would love me? I would find negative things about them to focus on, like their hair, they were “too nice,” they didn’t fit a mold(which was completely unattainable). Then I’d ignore them and be passive aggressive (gosh, I was a bitch).

Walls were a part of my life since I was under five years old. By the time I was fifteen, they weren’t just walls. They were five foot wide and twelve foot tall steel reinforced concrete walls that had barbed wire electric fence as an ornament. Some of this changed when I was turning seventeen. Sweet goes a long way. But it turned out to be more sour than sweet. About this time I was physically accosted by a “friend” who denied the intent to rape…

But I was fully aware of his intentions. He was going to have sex with me without consent, then turn it around on me that I teased him and changed my mind. He told me no one would believe me and I may as well do it. I almost considered doing it, then quickly kicked him so hard I’m surprised he has kids. My reputation still became tarnished. He and his family were unkind and spread hurtful gossip that left my “sweet” relationship broken. After that reinforcement I was done. DONE.

The next few years flew by with meaningless relationships (except my girls). I only connected on a sexual level with partners to protect myself. It was fine for awhile. Then it was time to find a husband. Ugh. The best thing that came from marriage one, his two kiddos. The divorce was barely in the works and husband number two was in the making. I realize now I that kept each relationship at arms length. Completely disconnected from what real intimacy was.

I tried. However, it was superficial at its best but I’m guessing enough for them to be happy some. I felt love beyond measure and suffering that cannot be described when it was time for having babies. Then heartache from infidelity, yet again. I stayed. I reinforced walls. This time they were wider and taller and had a dam surrounding the wall.

Then the unimaginable happened. Years later a single and intense interaction ignited a new fear and excitement in me. Fear and excitement for so many reasons. The most being, that during that time, my situation was such that something was unattainable. Not because I couldn’t, but because I wouldn’t. Then just like that the “I couldn’t” changed to I could, but “still won’t.”

In the past I would have. Easily. But I am not the same person I was then. I don’t want to build a wall or guard from irrational fears. I want real. I want sincere. No games. No guessing. No passive aggressiveness. I do feel tremendous guilt for this happening…but I know there is nothing I can do about my past. Moving forward it’s going to be different. I am slowly learning and I am practicing what I learn.

Writing this today has left me feeling guilty and raw and honestly, being able to see that I’m still pushing people away. Unconsciously and deliberately. Who wants to feel pain on purpose besides Christian Grey? It’s tormenting. I hate it. I smile today because I asked myself what “is going on with me, right now?” Then I challenge the negative with neutral and positive statements. They work most of the time.

Today is a slight exception. I’ll go and exercise and then have a glass of whiskey (maybe), but I’ll still suffer through my grief and smile knowing that this will be my past someday. I know someday I’ll be ready for something different and when it comes it will be real.

Hello, my name is Krissy, and I’m a pathological avoider of strong emotions. Especially any feelings or direct questions related to and/or that may threaten my sense of security, ability to deflect, and/or run away. In the event I feel or perceive (real or make believe) that any of the above may occur or is in the process of occurring, I will use every tool in my arsenal to attack.

I recently made a oath (because of the nature and who it was with, it may as well been a blood oath) to be open, honest, and nonjudgmental when we talked about our lives (trauma, feelings, thoughts, & feedback). Which, for both of us is a difficult and painful act.

As this is my side of the events, I can only express my side and some of the reinforced (by the other party) perceptions that I had during the incident which occurred. This is my painful admission in which I believe I hurt someone I profoundly care for, in addition, a person that has been able to meaningfully engage and challenge my bullshit. (Which meets one of the above qualifiers)

Just writing this feels raw and I’m trying to find ways to avoid demonstrating how weak and flawed I am, which I realize is the human thing to do, but I take it to a new level of avoidance. However, the point of this entry and most of my entries, is to expose my emotions and learn to grow from my insecurities in hopes it will help me develop more trust and to be more vulnerable to let others inside. (To be fair I trust no one. Ever. But I made a promise to try)

The simple version (Which means I wrote this out at least 5 times and then made it more simple) is that I began to feel like someone was getting “too close” and was able to decipher my bullshit. Worse yet, I felt like he could see the real me that is flawed, scared, and often sad. What did that mean to me if he saw this part? Better yet, what does it mean to me for me to acknowledge my own emotions?

When I was laying the foundation of bullshit down, he asked, if “I was setting boundaries or building walls.” Which made me physically ill instantaneously. Fuck you. I felt cut open and like someone was rolling around. When I told him how I was feeling he generously offered to give me time to “become more comfortable with him being in my head.” Which makes perfect sense and sounds smart, and also, the exact opposite of what I did.

What did Krissy do? Anyone? Yep. Please keep cutting me open and rolling around inside my head. I need it, I’m a masochist. Or was it possible I may have heard, “if you don’t let me in, I’m gone,” or maybe I heard “I’ll get closer?” Either way, I felt sick. He told me he’d stop and let me get more comfy, but I literally begged for more probing “julienne style” to my soul. Think Voldemort. He kindly shared a piece of his own pain in an effort to give me a break, which did take some of my suffering away for the moment. But the damage had been done.

I told him I needed it and that I trusted him implicitly. (Which is true, but I was terrified) He told me he was “glad, and knew it wasn’t easy,” and that “he trusted me too.” Which is a big deal. This guy trusts none. Then, wait for it…I started thinking. Which unfortunately, is sometimes not healthy. He “trusts me, why, what does he want” played like a tape in my head. I tried to challenge the thoughts. It didn’t work.

For me it’s more scary to be emotionally intimate with someone than sexually intimate. No seeing the real me, or learning more than what I’m comfortable or capable of sharing. Sex is easy. It’s flashy, distracting (in the moment), but intimate emotions, that’s the big time, and is scary AF.

Then somewhere between two hours and him asking me how I felt about dear ex’s “moving day,” I had emotionally escalated to defcon 1 and blasted him. I used information that I heard that had made me feel sick with fear. Trust. I’ve tried to trust so many people(because they said I could) and it ended so badly. (Surely I don’t need to give examples) So I asked specific questions using my “therapy bullshit” then I slammed him and accused him of something that, in the moment, I had no right to do. Especially since it was not for the purpose of being helpful.

I had subconsciously and automatically planned for a battle to turn his ability to see through me and my defenses, and I was given the weapon to twist and bastardize to my advantage. Then I attacked. In my mind my safety, security, and trust were in jeopardy. (Irrational) I told myself “this guy manipulated me into trusting him and somehow I’m going to suffer from agonizing pain.” I did this for a million little reasons and one very big reason. FEAR!

His response was more of a reaction and it was short, to the point, and had a sharp double edge and venomous point. The edges of the blade were his suffering, the tip of the blade was my suffering. Which, I brought upon myself by my own fear of just talking about it. My history of bullshit, dealing with liars, and being used had caught up with me and was driving the amygdala; which is not good.

After the last message there was significant radio silence. Which is rare. I assumed he was tending his flock. Then the next morning rolls around and I had received zero responses to my apologies. Which in a sense, was his response. This isn’t a “no news is good news” situation. This was devastating to my heart. Ugh. Yes. I realized it had emotionally affected me in a way that hurt more than any other negative event in my life. (That’s a lot right now)

I was in the middle of a crisis at home, and now a crisis with my friend. Emotionally, I was done. I wanted to hide and just wanted to walk (run) away. My feelings that I felt, felt more like a torture I’d never ever felt. I hated it. I hated them and I hated everything and most people I was around. I wanted it fixed. But had zero control over anyone else. Just me.

My words and manipulation were the “double edged sword,” not his words. In my mind, my words had sliced into the trust he had placed in me, and the support he offered, without judgment or criticism (no matter how hard I tried to find the negative in what he said)…I realized with shock and surprise, that I had hurt him.

WTF is wrong with me? I had hurt the one human who I had agreed to let in without limitations and expectations; even bigger, this was the person who had let me in. What is “in” exactly? Have you met me (you haven’t met him so let’s use me for an example). No one gets in this vault. Some think they’ve broken down barriers, however, like an onion, I have many layers of protection. No one has ever cut to the core and used it as a place to explore. Ever. Until now.

My belief about myself, that I’m too damaged and savagely broken to love or be loved is known and although disagreed with, it is accepted enough to not argue with me unless it’s like the second or third layer of the onion. This guy challenged it simply by asking a genuine and sincere question…and seeing right through the bullshit I normally tell people.

The next morning he let me know he was alive. Then slowly I began to receive more than one or two syllable words. I even received full sentences. Eventually, while trying to write out the blog about this incident I couldn’t do messages to explain my feelings or behaviors. I had to do this in person. OH SHIT.

Live and in living color-I observed him smirk/smile, look down (hiding), and then stare directly into the fire, when asked if I hurt him. Which ladies and gentlemen, indicates the act of being deceptive. Which could be a good sign, because it would validate the fact that I needed to apologize and learn how not doing this to him or others again. (I mean, there are times and places it’s appropriate though, right??)

So, I opened up (well, as best as I could in the moment). I talked about how jealousy is an emotion that I detest, and work hard to not feel and I even talked about my first memory of being jealous. I talked about my first heartbreak (just a little) and how the result of the heartbreak, in addition to illness, changed my life journey.

It felt good and I felt safe to share. I also felt uncomfortable, which we know change only occurs when one is uncomfortable. It was a good start and most likely needed to happen exactly the way it happened. Or not. I just want to keep moving forward and learn and grow from this relationship.

I received a significant amount of feedback from readers…minus the name calling, the feedback pointed out my efforts to build and keep building up walls will leave me lonely and alone. I agree and disagree. Walls and defense mechanisms may result in feeling lonely and/or being physically all alone, however, the biggest negative (and my biggest fear) is not experiencing life and a level of intimacy with someone that inspires, is supportive, and offers a soft place to fall.

I encourage you all to live your best life in every moment. Know where you have come from, what you’ve been through, where you are now, and identify goals to grow for your future. Our loved ones deserve this, and even more, you do too. I am making it my mantra to not hold my past against anyone else. I’ll have to repeat this, a lot, but I know it will help.

Whiskey Momma’s Play List

The Dear Ex

Stupid Love Songs and the Guys That Make Them Painful

Consequences at Eighty-One Miles Per Hour.

The current one is under review. Give us a couple days to hammer and wordsmith. I want to make sure it reflects exactly what I’m thinking and feeling.

Keep the feedback coming! It’s welcomed and heard. Some interesting points have been made related to me taking risks and being “really” vulnerable or ultimately, I’ll end up alone. You are absolutely correct!

Remember it’s a marathon and it’s only going to get more complicated and uncomfortable (at least for me and maybe my mom) as we move forward in this journey. I am absolutely flawed and very willing to learn from my missteps and traps I fall into, and so are my villagers who build me and our other characters back up.

I know “Hook” is a very big interest for (honestly, some have requested more of him and less of me, I’ll try not to take this personally) most of you. Trust me. There’s more, however, remember when exploring changes in ourselves, it’s a slow and gradual process. We can break the ego and the psyche if it’s too fast and too much…also we are both super busy people so time is in an hour glass for us.

The next big entry will be soon, and it will be raw and painful (For me, not you). To be continued! 😘😘

This particular entry is hard. Why? Because a moment in time in which the Dear Ex seen a side of me in which he was able to read and have some insight into a journey in which I wanted to and did partake in with others, and that I no longer did with him. He was profoundly surprised and hurt, however, he was enlightened and a conversation that needed to be had, was had.

What was discovered? Personal messages laced with sexy nuances and carnal desires sent via text messages. The betrayal was made clear, however, and clarifications (reasons to justify the behavior) were required to be made that will explain why some made the cut, and some didn’t. (Dear Ex didn’t make the cut, which has taught me a humbling and painful lesson)

To be more transparent, I have always been very careful with the type of correspondence I have sent to others, i.e. nothing sexy or risqué and/ politically problematic. Because I have this amazing career in politics in my future; which to be clear, it seems like this is now a none issue. Because most politicians have a history of some scandal or another…I’ll just be open and honest, right? (Presidency here I come)

As with most racy messages interesting texts were sent that were not meant for other people to see. That is what privacy is meant for, however, because they were discovered, relationships were tested and new relationships were formed. Let’s make sure that everyone is aware of what “relationships” mean: “the way in which two or more concepts, objects, or people are connected, or the state of being connected.”

So clearly, that doesn’t mean that the relationships are positive or necessarily negative. What was read was between me and those I had an interpersonal connection with in which I felt safe enough to share carnal thoughts and feelings with. (Who hasn’t done that, right?)

However, one may use this new found information as a tool to apply rationale for one of the many reasons why couples “fall part.” Which may be fair, or may not be fair. It should be noted that NONE of the conversations took place prior to the separation. Note: there was abuse in my past that does correlate to past and present behavior and reinforces significant trust issues. (Holy shit-the next blog will address this mess)

Which yes, is definitely something I should have (it would have been nice) talked to him about, but weakness is not something that I am ever comfortable exhibiting. Few have seen this weakness…they know who they are. On the day of what felt like “judgement day” I had to say, you “should not have invaded my privacy” and that “I was sorry for any suffering,” but, and it’s a big BUTT, “you should not have read my private info.”

I felt terrible that there was pain and suffering, in addition there was agreement that privacy was invaded. However, a slow and bubbling eruption was going to occur. I sensed it, I waited for it, it happened.

I had planned an evening to have guests over for swimming and drinks, which was lovely, then turned sad as the friends departed and the dear ex went indoors for the night. (Or so I thought) as I sat listening to a song on repeat, I became more sad. I felt sorry for myself and my situation. (wouldn’t you?)

I’m not sure, and I refuse to reread original messages more than I already have, how I allowed another human to suffer (he handled it quite gracefully) in my muck and mire, but when he offered a “shoulder to cry on and listen,” I happily accepted. Unfortunately, the dear ex was not as happy about the visit. (Which worked itself out)

This visit was strained with mental accusations and emotional turmoil (not by me, well maybe I was a little anxious I did drink another swig of whiskey) as the visitor was polite and courteous, and to be perfectly clear, there were not supposed to be other people around. Ladies and gents, “Hook” had paid a short visit, even though he was in a ridiculous and awkward situation. What a fucking hero (don’t tell him that, he’ll find a way to make himself feel like shit if he hears that).

He was confronted (sort of) and then he graciously offered a beer to the confronter( who should (Would have been nice) not have said or done anything). However, there we were in a ridiculous situation, which unfortunately, was too short, because like all hero’s, hero work is never done.

However, for a short period, and for those who love a good “hook,” although he was there to lend a shoulder to punch/cry on with so many people around, me being vulnerable was not in the cards. Maybe next time.

Will there be a next time? Yes. I think so. Life is changing every day. I found out that living together may not be the healthiest track for us and our kiddos …so next stop, the dear ex is moving out. It’s scary, but grown ups do these things all the time.

Now to regroup and learn to move forward. The kids are excited, and the space will be healthy. So was it Karma or was it an opportunity to learn and grow? Maybe both! The pain and suffering will be enduring for sometime.

I hope that we (and dear ex) do not perpetuate this mishap in communication in our children and continue to teach them to love themselves, let them fail, let them grow through their sense of failure so they don’t require others to measure their worth or value. (I hate that sex is used as a value marker…)Then and only then will they have a sense of accomplishment and security that they’ll survive, and feel a sense of security enough to move forward and continue to be brave and vulnerable.

By run, I mean drive fast with the windows down, the music loud, and away from every confusion, judgement, and every passive boundary. Music is my soulmate. Feeling comfortable….is my enemy.

In a previous blog I mentioned a relationship “pattern” I was able to notice. (That’s what I do, I look for behavior patterns). I had realized the first boy I ever fell in “love” with “Flynn” was a hot mess. His step dad wasn’t exactly easy on him, and his grandfather, along with about every other family member had extreme expectations on this guy. Failure was not an option; And I’m pretty sure it never has been an option for him…

I felt pity for him. Stupidly, I thought, I could be enough (who doesn’t at 17). 🙄 Boy was I an idiot. He had a one track mind, well, sometimes…but, he got his success. However, things aren’t all they seem sometimes. More about him later maybe. On to the next damn fool, he was seriously damaged. Older, charming-I didn’t want to fix him. I only wanted him to be a fix, and he was…

But seriously, what is the deal with man children who have issues with their mommies, leaving the nest and being an adult, or being faithful? That is the list of every other mistake (man child) I ended up knowing in a biblical sense. Which, to be fair, not everything about everyone of them was a mistake. In fact, I learned a great deal from all of them.

Like, how to hide multiple relationships while being in a relationship. Which is not easy! In fact, I have had to learn how to ghost because it was getting ridiculous and time consuming. Twenty messages…all within ten minutes, too much!! Unless it’s from me…just saying. So maybe I didn’t learn how to be a player after all.

How about the next skill, blame the other persons behaviors for the extra relationship(s). (My personal favorite, because who wants to take responsibility for their actions, NOT ME!) I have tried, but for some stupid reason, I take responsibility, like, oh if only I would have done… blah blah blah. Yep. That’s me. All broken and damaged, all the time. Ugh!

So how did I fail at both these “lessons?” Why can’t I have multiple relationships or blame others for failed relationships? Ugh. Time for the “F” word! FEELINGS!!! I think I really may believe there is a “lobster” for everyone. Someone who knows the inner most you, all the muck, the shit, the pain, the suffering, and completely accepts it while still wanting to watch you in a personal porn video.

As for the blame. Don’t get me wrong. I hate telling anyone that I’ve made wrong decisions or that I was responsible for something serious that went south (haha catch that?) that caused significant damage or pain/suffering to anyone or anything. However, when I do accept responsibility, it FEELS like it’s the RIGHT decision and I learn from it. So I’m doing it now…

I’ve been told I worked too much and left my partner alone to bear the burden. Is that an excuse for their actions (no way), did they talk to me, nope (blame blame blame). But, and it’s a big BUTT, I am not always approachable apparently, unless you wear a spartan suit with a special cup for your sensitive parts (heart, soul, & genitalia). I get that. I work with a hard population, and it’s made me hard. It’s also made me aware.

I have recently put a “fixer upper” tag on guys that I have found to be annoying, needy, dramatic, lazy…sorry I have just seen a lot. But I’ve soon realized, I’m the “fixer upper.” Yep, me. I’m imperfect, which everyone is, but really, maybe I’m the one in need of clarity (which I know I am, feel sorry for poor Hook the great captain of mansplaining to a layman of men), experience, vision, and I needto make repairs.

With my new found clarity on my “fixer upper” status, maybe I’ll be more courageous when seeking the great pleasures of my life. Maybe I’ll take more risks with the hard, fist shaped, device that’s in my chest (aka my Grinch heart). Then maybe, just maybe, I’ll have a happy ending…or maybe they’ll all be a bunch of idiots who never listen. Who knows, either way…courage.