Ms Publicly Dumped

Had a crazy fucking week.

My problem is, I don’t know what the fuck I want. Well, no, I do but men keep pathologicalising what I want and end up making me feel somehow perverted so influenced by their need I change my mind.

Like the wind, one says, flip flop says another. I try to be me, but when I’m with them I want to also make them happy, please them, so I compromise and end up looking flakey.

So last you heard I let Mr AA know I didn’t want a relationship, cause even though his profile said he wasn’t looking for anything other than in his words a “root” somehow on spending time with me he got all intense and I decided to back off as I knew I would end up hurting him.

This of course is coupled with sex with Mr Tadpole on Monday, stupidly fucking Mr G in his car on Tuesday, the date with Mr AA where I ended up dumping him on Wednesday and unwanted sex with Pirate on Thursday. Yeah I know, out of control.

Anyway Mr AA and I kept texting after saying it wasn’t working for me and we decided to try to be friends. However he’d never had a female friend who he didn’t want to “root” so this was probably in vain. He asked me to come watch fireworks with him on Saturday night and we lay around discussing us and the possibility of just being “friends with benefits”.

We resolved to catch up for a movie on the Wednesday as friends. However he called me on Tuesday to chat and during the conversation I disclosed my crazy sex week. He appreciated my honesty and said in fact it made him want me more. I agreed to cancel the date I had been planning for that night and invited him over instead.

We spent the night together getting to know each other more and I talked through more of what I didn’t want at this point in time, as certainly any relationship would be a reaction to my recent break up with Mr G. He seemed to accept this and wanted to spend the next day (today) with me. We went to a movie then picniced on the river, and had a swim. It was beautiful and relaxing.

Unfortunately simultaneously I was in a bizarre text triangle with Pirate and the woman who was part of the reason we weren’t together. He called her Wonder woman. For reasons only Pirate knows he gave her my number. This highly intrigued me and I admit I was distracted by the messages. Though I did not hide what I was doing. It was wrong and I should have resisted. However, that coupled with my revelations about my previous weeks activities was enough for him to issue the public dumping via a comment on my previous post.

He could have emailed, texted or called. I believe he wanted to either publicly shame me, or talk directly to the other “suitors”. Whatever his reasons it hurt and has led to this post.

Bless YOU Mr AA

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Mr AAA!

“Our childhood is memory
Still ascended high in dreams
And I’m suspending what I held for
Preconceptions of my being
I only say this to affirm
Our time is short
But we’ve will to carry on
Transcend with our scars and contusions
” Say Yes To Life, Gang of Youths

Since my last heartfelt post I’ve been drowning my sorrows, or at least distracting my yearnings in the strong sinewy arms of Mr AA. I told him straight up he was a distraction, though a very nice firm distraction!

I had bought tickets to what can only be described as an art installation which the lucky few could spend the night in. It consisted of some cobbled together bits of wood and tin to form The South Mole Resort. Located on the salubrious Fremantle South mole populated usually with rats and fishermen, it had a view to die for of the entrance to the harbour and the maritime museum. The tickets had been purchased with the intent of using them with Mr G and I was determined to still go, but wanting someone to come with me. I asked friends, but most, strangely were washing their hair that night. Mr AA stepped up to the plate.

Since the last post we had shared some passionate fumblings in the back of his van but had decided we would not consumate anything until we had both been tested for any STI. A very noble undertaking. And also a test for two quite sexual beings.

Unfortunately the experience of sleeping together with the sound of waves slapping the rocks was too much to resist. As I write this I still haven’t received my STI results, though the doctor said if there were any issues I would hear by end of the week, so I’m sure I’m fine…

We were woken early by the fact that there were no curtains and the sound of birds, not rats on the tin roof of our “shacklet “. Our host made us breakfast jaffles and we parted company not to see each other again until his fathering duties were over 4 days hence.

With days to imagine our reunion I was champing at the bit to see him again. However he had been sick with a cold, so we settled for meeting at his place, a boat docked on the river. I suffer quite badly from motion sickness so I necked a sea sickness pill before arriving so I was a little dopey. I don’t know whether it was this, his cold, or my feverish speculation but the long anticipated meeting was an anti climax. I ended up staying the night and suffered motion sickness the whole next day.

I don’t know what I wanted or expected but when I returned home I sent a text, gutless I know but easier than a phone call and better than ghosting, no? I said I didn’t think we were compatible but in truth I didn’t want to start anything that could lead to feelings getting hurt. I bailed before those initial feelings could blossom into something more difficult to extricate myself from.

Still not sure if I did the right thing or not. But I do know I don’t want to sleep over on a boat again.

Mr AA

“And I blinded you ’cause I loved your eyes
And I took your voice ’cause I love to lie
And I weighed you down, so I learned to fly
Last night I made you cry ” GRAACE – Last Night

I’m back to my usual pattern of running away from conflict and re-injuring myself in the process. The last twelve months have seen the end to my marriage, the loss of my home, my daughter (who chose to live with her dad), my Nana, my job, my self-respect. I’ve been documenting my journey not just to entertain you but to sort out my feelings and recognise my patterns.

I meet Mr AA yesterday, I don’t yet have his permission to include him in the blog so I won’t go into too many details but he spoke to me about his addiction issues and his continuing journey with Alcoholics Anonymous. Now usually my typical demeanor in a first date is light, happy and confident, a mask of course, but it allows me to navigate the difficult first encounter and leave the impression I have my shit together. Well I was crying within about 15 minutes of meeting him. I pulled it together and got the mask firmly in place and impressed him enough with my witty repartee, I elicited a second date last night.

He was extremely open and honest with his past, sharing things with me that made him very vulnerable. I also opened up and found myself crying even more than the first date. Jesus get a grip woman! However, what I did take, learn, embrace from that date, something that I always knew but distracted the thought with more inappropriate men, was that what I am doing is destructive. Not only to me but to those around me, especially the men I use to distract me, I want them to fall in love with me, because ultimately I don’t love myself.

I have this enormous gaping wound inside myself. A chasm of self-loathing that I try to soothe with male attention. It is a temporary fix and in fact leaves the wound bigger and festering when ultimately the attention does not assuage the shame but makes it worse.

I came home and deleted my dating profiles and am putting my head down to find a job to distract me instead.

Mr Tour guide

“I will not spend the years depleted of my willingness to try
It won’t hurt this way forever, it ain’t worth the overtime
I’m not looking for redemption nor some shallow kind of bliss
Lay me down and kiss me deeply, show me everything I missed” Gang of Youths – The Heart Is a Muscle

There is some one between Mr Dimples and Mr Tour Guide, who I will call Mr Tadpole. He doesn’t want me to write about him even though I am dying to, he is super interesting and very, very different than my usual “type”. I don’t think I have a type but friends and children insist I do. We have had 3 dates so far, if you could call them dates, the last one being a rescue of 100s of tadpoles hence the name , but I’ve probably said too much anyway and should pretend he doesnt exist. Nothing to see here.

Anyway Mr Tour guide and I spoke last time I was on the “sites”, on and off for months. There was never really interest for me, his photos were as uninspiring as the conversation. But he was a nice guy and always had a cheery hello to greet me with when ever I was online.

The easy thing about our online relationship was that he spent 6 months on Darwin doing tour guiding and 6 months based in Perth but doing South West tours. So generally he was usually somewhere I wasn’t so there was no requests to meet.

This time however my return to the scene coincided with him being in Perth, and I felt obliged as anyone would to a long term pen pal to meet in person. I had had a meeting with a new business I was considering buying in the area , and also had a subsequent meeting an hour later which gave me the perfect escape.

He arrived looking just like his photos, he purchased me a drink even though I tried to pay, I always pay or at least try so as I feel no obligation if things don’t work out. I shook his hand which is a weird thing for me to do on dates, either I do nothing, or I do the awkward kiss on the cheek sort of thing. So shaking his hand was very business like to start with. I think even he was taken aback.

He was a very nice guy, boring, bland, and totally not my type, which I could have t old you before I arrived. I guess I just felt obliged to finally meet him. Like I owed him that much. I really need to stop doing that. Making people feel ok. When in fact what I am doing is giving them false hot and possibly making it worse for them and painful for me at the same time.

I checked the time constantly as I was aware I needed to be elsewhere and the conversation stumbled to a close. I stood up to go, he mentioned something about doing it right this time and embraced me and kissed my cheek at that same time I tried to manoeuvre out of my chair. Very awkward. We haven’t chatted once since then and every time I see him online I shut the app down quickly. I’m crap at this.

In other news today I’ve been described as childish, narcissistic, lying, rude, dismissive, impetuous, sarcastic and destructively dumb. However he continues to read my posts so I must also be entertaining!

Mr Dimples

“On the road again, I just cant wait to get on the road again, the life i love is making music with my friends, and I can’t wait to get on the road again” Willie Nelson

Back on the horse, so to speak.

After a week of emails, running the gamut from you’re a slut and a habitual liar, to I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I took the plunge back into the murky underworld of internet dating. Please understand at this time it’s only as a distraction rather than a full immersion.

Bumble seems to have died since I last was online. So far in a week I’ve received 1 match and 10 likes. Pretty shit. My one match gave me a few sentences and disappeared to where ever bad matches go to die.

Plenty of fish still seemed to have some action, though the majority were ones I had rejected as unsuitable last time. Started a few conversations and apart from one notable ” I’m going down south this weekend come with me?”. I was not able to elicit any dating requests.

Time to go on the front foot esp especially since my unemployed days were unfurling into the distant future. I needed a bit of spice!

Mr Dimples and I had connected last time I was online. We had a mutual friend in common and I had done a reference check with this friend which had been a positive one. The reason we didn’t meet last time was due to sarcastic comments, which is fine when they are delivered by me, but can be off putting when read over text.

Anyway with great arm twisting I got him to agree to a dinner date at the local pub. Steak Sanger and a beer. The pub was packed a noisy but we found each other after a while and a few phone calls. He was shorter and older than his pictures but had the cutest dimples.

Conversation was stilted at the start as I tried to not be my usual ” tell all the secrets!” self. However after a beer I loosened up and let the secrets flow. This is always good for spicing up a lagging dating experience but doesn’t usually lead to a second date so risky strategy.

We walked back to me car, careful to to bump into each other or touch on the dark uneven path and we successfully negotiated a goodbye in the same way.

His message to me afterwards was that he had had a good time and found my company pleasantly relaxing and loved my brutal honesty. And here I thought I was holding back!

We chatted a few more times over the next few days but no more dates were forthcoming and the conversation just drifted away.

Ms Single again

What a night!

Mr G and I had spent Friday, Saturday and most of Sunday together and I was feeling like having some me time. I’m introverted and sometimes having someone around all the time is tiring. This went down as well as it usually does. Obviously if I want time to myself I must be breaking up.

Anyway on the Friday night I had had a missed (blocked call) from Pirate. Mr G and I listened to the innocuous message, but it had got me thinking, why has he contacted me after 2 months of radio silence.

So after Mr G left I did a bad thing. I unblocked him and asked the question. We started texting and he asked me to cone to dinner and catch up. I said no, I can’t and you know why. Anyway we kept chatting and I though, fuck it, I’m my own person.

We caught up for drink and a pizza at a bar near his place. We had a good chat and a good laugh. We shared stories about Mr G and one of his current harem members. We talked about my pattern and why I ended up with the men I end up with. Anyway at 9 or 9:30 I decided to call it a night and go home. I offered to give Pirate a lift to his house.

While walking back to my car, what did I see but Mr G’s distinctive car parked not 3 cars away from mine. Adrenalin hit me, I started shaking. Not cause I had done anything wrong, in fact I was going to tell him what I had just done so it didn’t look like I was hiding anything. No, it was the fact that he had obviously followed me. He had left my house over 2 hours before I had left so that meant he had be waiting all that time.

Pirate has another idea, perhaps he was tracking me. He said come to my place and we can check the car. I drop to his underground parking area and we searched the car. By now I was pretty upset. He offered to let me stay but I knew that would exacerbate the situation. I decided to go home and face the music knowing he would no doubt confront me with my perfidity there.

Pirate went to the gates to open them to let me drive out. And who do you think was parked opposite? Now I knew he was tracking me. Pirate called out to him and he came over to meet us. My heart was racing. He had said if he ever saw Pirate he would punch his face. They started exchanging words and it started getting heated so I asked Pirate to leave and go inside. I then told Mr G it was over. He swore he had decided to go for a drink (He doesn’t drink) and just happened upon the same bar. He had driven to Pirate’s house afterwards to check I wasn’t there. Uh huh. Any fool could see this wasn’t true. It reminded me of when my alcoholic husband would swear black and blue he wasn’t drinking while the fumes emanated from his skin.

I told him not to come to my house, if he did I would call the police and I drove away. I didn’t have to call the police as Pirate did. An hour or so later the police came to check on me, asked for Mr G’ s address and phone number. I am unable to sleep as every noise makes me scared. Seriously how do I choose so badly?

Ms Unemployed

After a week’s training in Sydney and 8 weeks working in my new job, I turned up to work yesterday and realised I couldn’t do it anymore. I handed in my notice and walked out the door. After the training the feeling of dread when I walked through the door had solidified into the realisation it was a sales focused job, not the helping people job I had hoped it would be. Coupled with the 8am to 5:30pm working day spent estentially cold calling people, and the basic $20 an hour wage I decided my work/life balance was seriously out of whack.

This is the first time I have been unemployed since I left university 30 years ago, apart from short maternity breaks. It’s scary. I spent most of yesterday sleeping, my way of not dealing with things. So far today I’ve cleaned my kitchen and tried to keep breathing. I feel a huge boulder inside my chest, I’ve always feared not having money, part of the reason I stayed in relationships past their used by date. So now I’m a single, unemployed 50 year old woman who does not own her own house.

Mr G, as is his want, has been trying to fix everything. He thinks if I complain about something it’s me asking for him to fix it. It’s not, it’s me asking for someone to listen. Not everything can be fixed with throwing gifts at it. He’s sent me dozens of jobs that I am hugely unqualified for, but he is perhaps is one of those men who think they can do any job, something I saw daily in my 2 months as a recruiter. 90% of applications for any given job were from men with absolutely no qualifications for that job, but huge amounts of self belief. Our week long training course also displayed some of this. We spent most of the course role playing. After each role play participants were asked how they think they went. All the men said they thought they did alright, or quite well. All the women self reported that they had gone terribly, whether or not they had done well. Anyway enough amateur psychology.

So I’m giving myself the rest of this week to work out what I want to do with the next 20 years of my working life. Maybe go back and do some study. Maybe travel for a while. Maybe sit a bit and stop distracting myself from what a fuck up ive made of my life so far.