The flushing experiment.

I started to see a therapist a couple of weeks ago. Things haven’t been getting better for me, and I had reached a point of desperation. I have been to two different therapists before over different traumas. One therapist talked to me like a child and used cutesy words. The other therapist mostly sat there in silence. I needed a more direct approach. So far, this new therapist is more talkative. I have only been twice, and go again next Wednesday. The trial period for therapist #3 has officially begun.

At my next appointment, my therapist is going to start EMDR. I have never done this before, although I have certainly heard of it. She has honed in on my self-defeating opinions of myself and wants to work on that first. So, we’re going way back to when the low feelings of self first started… all the way back to age 11. The therapist has given me some ideas of what to expect, and I have done my own research at the upmost tier of reliability (a.k.a. Dr. Google). I am still a bit nervous, but open to trying something new.

At my first appointment, we went over my history of Wellbutrin and Zoloft use, and the undesirable side effects I had from each (fogginess/short term memory issues from the Wellbutrin and weight gain from the Zoloft). I am greatly fearful of gaining weight again on an SSRI like I did on the Zoloft. Although I found Zoloft helpful, I am opposed to going through the fat mill again.

My therapist asked me if I have seen the documentary Food Matters. I had not, so she started to explain Dr. Saul’s position on niacin use and depression. Dr. Saul believes that high doses of niacin can help with the symptoms of depression. Check out a clip from the film here:

Niacin doesn’t have the side effects that anti-depressants do, although individuals with liver conditions can have complications with such high doses and thus should not follow this advice. One of the few side effects is a flushing of the skin, which feels warm and resembles one big hive. The flushing effect is temporary, and should subside within 30 minutes.

I started taking niacin a week ago. I got up to 1000 mg spaced throughout the day, but still was not experiencing any flushing. My therapist believes that my niacin levels are really depleted if I had no flushing effect at that dosage. I am now up to 1500 mg and experienced my first flush 2 days ago. My hands and forearms started to form deep pink blotches, which eventually connected into one giant pink mass. My ears began to burn and tingle. My face felt hot and melty. I experienced this at work, and tried to play it off as an allergy. I did not experience any flushing today, so it sounds like my body is getting used to the 1500 mg.

I am not sure if the niacin is helping my depression at this point. I still have been weepy on a daily basis, and flow from various points of despair. I have had less racing thoughts today, but I don’t know if that’s the niacin or keeping my brain occupied on a busy work agenda during the day and a good book this evening. Time is what I have, so time is what I will give to see if it is worth continuing.

The unicorn.

Last week was a challenging one. Being off the whole week caused me to hyperfocus on my hopelessness. Thoughts of The Actor consumed me. I kept replaying all of the moments of our relationship… the first date excitement, the second date jitters, the celebratory call he made after he slept over, the gratitude he would express about my spirit, my body, and my beauty. I keep looking at all of the wonderful moments. Maybe I am even idealizing him. In any case, I still ache for him terribly.

Last Tuesday, I discovered that The Actor had renewed his online dating profile, but this time on a different dating site. He was on Match, with 2 newly taken pictures. Let’s pause for a moment, and do a loud group “WTF!”

A 39 year-old man seeking women 23 – 33.

Needless to say, when I saw it, I totally LOST it. The finality of the loss of him consumed me.

When he broke up with me, he said that he needed to stop dating for a while and not be in a relationship so he could figure out how to be in one. He agreed that he needed to go to therapy.

A few weeks after that conversation, he said that therapy would need to wait until he was done with the play as he was so busy that he had no time for it. So, apparently, he has no time for therapy, but has time for online dating? Last time I checked, therapy was a 50-minute session once a week or every other week.

Now, he is on Match and PAYING for it and looking for much younger women. We met on OKcupid. Maybe he thought that I would see him on there if he reappeared? But at least OKcupid is free. Paying for the service and putting up new pictures means he’s looking and looking hard. For what, I am not sure.

I know that he is going to keep making the same mistakes in relationships until he gets a handle on his defeating patterns of behavior. But maybe he is happy going from relationship to relationship, and never really investing in them past the first stage. It’s ok if he wants to date around. The other person just needs to know that’s he’s not looking for anything and be on the same page. The damage is done when you say that you want a relationship, but your actions prove otherwise. The other person is lead on, and then tossed into a sea of confusion and broken promises.

In the end, The Actor is searching for the unicorn. He wants the perfect woman. Once he meets her, all of his commitment issues will go away. He will lust after her every day for the rest of his life, like the first day they met. She will never age. She will have no flaws. All of his flaws and problems will melt away, and their lives will be perfect.

Unfortunately, unicorns don’t exist, and neither do perfect people. We all have our flaws. And no person can “cure” us of our problems. We have to do the tough work ourselves.

If anyone is continually running away from commitment, I highly recommend the book Getting to Commitment by Steven Carter and Julia Sokol. There’s a free sample of the beginning of the book on Amazon. It’s been an eye-opening read for me, as all of The Actor’s issues are so precisely laid out. The author, Steven Carter, had commitment issues himself, so he knows what he is talking about. The targeted audience is people who have commitment issues, but those of us who are the hapless followers of commitmentphobes can learn a thing or two about spotting these issues early in a relationship.

Life goes on without me.

131.4 pounds. I feel like I am shriveling away. **Trigger warning**

I am off work this week. A part of me is thankful for the opportunity to take care of some home projects. A part of me hopes this will give me the opportunity to recoup some hours of sleep that I miss out on at night because my brain won’t stop racing. The other part of me is scared… terrified to have all of this time alone, away from work, and away from any routine.

Friday night was a terrible night. All I could think of was the play that The Actor was performing in that evening… without me. I was imagining the smiles and accolades he was receiving from others. Afterwards, he probably would attend a post-performance celebration at a bar, filled with flirtatious women. The whole evening for him would be consumed with exhilaration and happiness. Life goes on without me, and maybe it’s a better life. I assume he’s happy. I know I’m miserable.

Meanwhile, I am holed up in my bedroom, curled into a ball on my bed. Piles of things not put away surround me. Tears won’t stop flowing. I had a steak knife on the tray night to my bed. I picked it up and placed the flat part of the blade against my wrist. I felt the cold metal on my skin. Then I proceeded to look up the lethality of suicide methods. I cried some more.

I called three friends. None were available. I looked up suicide hotlines. I never called one before. I started to read the testimonials of support on the hotline websites. I cried some more.

How have things gotten so bad? I managed to fall asleep that night, with no physical harm done to myself. One of my friends called me that morning, and another came over that afternoon. My friends dragged me out that evening. I stayed busy most of the day. I am blessed with good friends, and should focus on my gratitude towards them.

Here I am on Monday morning, officially the first day of my week off. My face is stained with the morning tears. There is a figurative foot that is pressing down on my chest, slowly crushing my heart with increasing pressure. I miss The Actor and all of the times we had. I just want to go back to the way things were, before he realized he was incapable of a commitment. I miss him so much that I ache for him. He plays the starring role in my lucid dreams at night. I want to hold him, and to press my nose and lips against his neck. I can still feel, smell, and taste him. The connection in my heart and brain is still so vivid.

Coinciding with missing him, I feel like my time to meet someone has run out. This is the last year of my thirties. It’s the kiss of death on the online dating sites. I am in no frame of mind to meet someone new, as my heart still longs to be with The Actor. The thought of moving on in life without him is too much to bear. At the same token, I feel like my time is ticking away.

Not it.

No more Zoloft, 133.8 pounds

Back in September, I started dating “The Actor.” He was classically handsome. Some might say beautiful. He was communicative, expressive, and expressive. On our first date, I knew I was in trouble. I was instantly smitten.

I originally met The Actor on OkCupid. Everything in his profile sounded great, with one exception. In the questions section, there was a question about how long you wanted your next relationship to be. He answered “6 months.” In his explanation, he commented that he was open to longer, but being honest, he was a serial monogamist. This was a flag that I should have paid more attention to.

When he first contacted me, I told him that I wasn’t sure that we were looking for the same thing, but he had many interesting qualities and we could at the very least have an interesting conversation. He agreed, and we set the plan to meet.

We had a great connection from the start. We got a bit physical at the end of the first date, which I had never done before. Whoops. After dating for a month and a half, he gave me his key when I stayed over one night. I met his friends within a few weeks, and met his daughter after a few months.

He was a very busy man, with little flexible time in his schedule. He worked full time, and did theatre acting on the side. He would consider himself an actor first and foremost, as that is what he studied and is trained to be. But, it doesn’t pay the bills. He performs in a couple local productions a year. He also has a 5 year-old daughter, which he spends most weekends with. He goes to her mother’s house for three nights during the week to put her to bed.

As a very dedicated father with a rather time consuming “hobby,” there wasn’t much time for dating. I was usually the last priority. We would spend a couple nights per week together. It was usually after he saw his daughter, after a long day of work. He was tired, and so was I. So, the quality of time together and the effort he put into it was not what it could have been. However, I understood that he had a lot of things going on, and his daughter absolutely needed to be top priority.

The Actor was always very complimentary of me. He commented about my beauty, my intelligence, my kindness, and my giving nature. We were very loving toward each other.

We made future plans to see a friend’s play at the end of February. He got sick during the first week of February. I took care of him. Inevitably, I caught the bug from him, and then he took care of me. After a few days of being sick, I got stuck in my house from the snow. He calls me in the midst of the snow days and breaks up with me over the phone. After 5 months together, I get a phone call. I am alone in my home, with no one being able to come over. I am trapped.

He comes over the next day (Valentine’s Day), and we spend 3 hours talking, crying, and holding each other. Our foreheads are pressed together for a good portion of the tear-filled moments. We end up giving each other a few lightly placed kisses on the lips.

He explains that he loves being with me, and I have all of the qualities that he is looking for. But for some reason, his mind is telling him that I am “not it.” I am not a match. For me, this doesn’t add up. He agrees that this is his issue, and that I have done nothing wrong. If anything, he says that I cherished him more than any other woman ever has.

He explains that in the beginning of our relationship, he wanted to jump me all the time. Now that we have been together for some time, he doesn’t feel that way all the time anymore. He said, “Even if you are just sitting on the couch watching television, I should want to jump you ALL the time.” We had sex (good sex, too) every time we saw each other, so there was no lack of physicality between us. But he thinks the relationship should always operate like the first time you had sex; that lust should be ever-present at every moment. I tell him that’s not realistically possible. After time, the initial intensity of lust and infatuation starts to lessen. That’s when you start to develop true emotional intimacy, that bond. I tell him that he is addicted to the chase. He admits that this is true. He bails after the freshness wears off. He agrees that he is scared of commitment. Is he capable of true intimacy?

I tell him that he needs therapy. He is throwing away something good. He says that his past relationships have been filled with drama. He has confused drama for love, and while he does appreciate having no drama with me, he is confused. He admits that he purposely has chosen women in the past that he knew weren’t right for him, and thus gave him an out in the relationship: one too young, one who was moving, one who didn’t like kids, one who was polyamorous. He said being with me scared him, because he saw the potential for something long term. He wasn’t ready for that.

He agrees that he needs to see a therapist. He says he needs to figure out what it means to be in a relationship: how to invest, how to commit. He really didn’t put forth the effort into our relationship. He writes me a couple weeks after he broke up with me to let me know that he has looked into a couple of a therapists, but he doesn’t have time right now to see them. The play that he has been working on is starting, and therapy will have to wait until the production is over. I hope he fulfills that promise, at least as a gift to himself.

We haven’t spoken since. I miss him terribly. I really wanted to be in his life while he was in the play. I was with him through all of the preparation. I wanted to see the end result. But now I just feel used. He dumped me right before the play is about to start. I feel like I don’t matter.

I have been torturing myself by looking at his facebook page (I know, bad idea, but we all do this to ourselves after a breakup because we are addicts for pain). He is posting pictures of rehearsals. He is getting super excited about the play. All of the people around him are, too. And I’m not there. I don’t want him to be in a celebratory spirit right now. Selfishly, I want him to be in pain like me. Why isn’t he feeling this loss? Oh yes, because dumping me was his choice. Maybe it was not a loss to him? The pictures are just evidence that life goes on without me, and maybe he feels he’s better off without me.

Throughout this pain, I made a decision. I need to be off of facebook completely. At least if I don’t log in at all, I won’t be tempted. So, it’s been two days since I have logged in. I need to stay strong and not look at his page.  The facebook strike must continue.

Crumbles of my heart.

How much heartbreak can the human body endure? Are we made to experienced repeated loss, or does it take it’s toll on our mind, body, and spirit over the years?

As I have hit the age of 39, I can’t help but think that I can’t keep putting myself through the pain of failed relationship after failed relationship. It doesn’t seem like it’s worth the investment anymore, if every time I end up on the floor in a heap of sorrow. I just want one kernel of success. But, my relationships tend to be so fleeting, and the guy makes the choice to leave. I’ve been in the dating world for over 20 years now. Can I catch a little break?

The pain of breakups in my twenties has been nothing compared to how I feel after a relationship has ended in my thirties. It’s down to shattered dreams, and trying to redefine what my life is meant to be. How do I define myself as a single woman, without children, in a circumstance where I wanted to be neither of those things? How do I live in a society that views me as less of a woman, an outcast, or a failure because I have not accomplished these things? How do I come to terms with feeling so unfulfilled? How do I stop feeling so hopeless about my future? How do I deal with the fear of being alone for the rest of my life?

I recently read an article that talks about the differences in dealing with breakups, depending on your age. Here’s a snippet:

In Love and Heartbreak, Age Matters by Amelie Chance

With respect to love and heartbreak, age definitely matters. Here is the reason why: we each have a grand plan for our life based on age. It goes something like this:

•    In my teens, I’ll get into a good college or get a good job.
•    In my early twenties, my career will start to take off.
•    By my mid-twenties, I will meet the person of my dreams.
•    In my thirties, I will be married and have 2.2 beautiful children.
•    In my forties, I’ll be running the company for which I’ve been working.
•    In my fifties, I’ll reflect back on my life and my grown children and smile.
•    In my sixties, I’ll retire and travel the world.

Sound familiar? Give or take a few years and interchange a couple of details and these types of age confined dreams are quite universal. So what happens when things don’t go as expected? What happens when instead of two kids in our thirties, we end up with our heart in two pieces? We feel broken; not only is our heart shattered, so too is our self-perception.

It is critical to understand that the pain one feels after a break up is only partially due to the separation from our mate. What causes equal, if not greater agony, is dealing with our crushed dreams. Our dream to be a certain age and have accomplished certain things has been stolen.

So, I sit here, after reading that article with my heart in crumbles in my hands. I was recently in a relationship with a new guy, we’ll call “The Actor,” that lasted 5 months. He just left me last month. I am hurting. I am in pain. I don’t want to get out of bed. I can’t make the feelings stop. I can’t get his memory out of my head. I miss him. I feel so alone.

I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I forced myself into sleep around 3:30 a.m., but I just tossed around until 7:30 a.m. How much more of this can I endure? What dreams do I have left, when I can’t even sleep anymore to produce dreams?

Writing on the wall.

It was mid-May at this point. The trifecta of unrequited dates had occurred. I caught some cold/cough bug and decided to stay inside to rest. After being cooped up in my home for a few days, I finally ventured outside to get something out of my car. Tucked under my wiper blade was a small envelope with my first name on it, encased in a ziploc bag. “Hmmm… the handwriting looks quite familiar,” I thought. I opened up the stationery envelope to find this note:

No poet laureate here, and the handwriting was now instantly recognizable. It was a note from SP. We had not had a conversation for 5 months at this point. I had defriended and blocked him on Facebook. And out of the blue, this cryptic note appears.

I had heard through the grapevine that SP and the girl (C***) he left me for had broken up just a week ago. Of course, he didn’t know that I knew that. So, I decided to play dumb and confront him about this note. I sent him a text, and that started a whole series of questions. (Helpful flashback: Now recall that he had dated and broken up with C*** before he met me. He then dumped me to get back together with C***.)

The Confrontation: A Text Diary with SP

Me: Why leave a note?

SP: To reach out in a way that didn’t make you feel obligated to respond. I understand and respect if you’d rather not communicate or keep in touch with me, but I wanted you to know how I feel, in case you’d drawn other conclusions about how I value you. To me, life’s too short, and connections too precious,to let them go unless I know that’s what’s best. I’m sorry if that is insensitive and selfish me me, I really don’t mean to insinuate myself upon your life.

<<I see that SP is still as wordy and vague as ever. Nothing has changed. So, I continue on…>>

Me: I don’t know what you are currently seeking from me. You’re being vague and indirect. What do you want?

SP: Sorry, my phone is giving me trouble, and vagueness was unintended. If you weren’t at Lake *** on Saturday, my note would have seemed even more incomprehensible, so my apologies for that. I just want to tell you that I miss you and hope you’re well. I hoped my note might prompt some sort of reconnection, if you were at all interested in that. I did not want to send a text or email, since they seem too insincere or convenient to me. I also worried they might make you feel compelled to respond. That’s all, thank you for letting me know you got it.

Me: I wouldn’t feel comfortable reconnecting with you when you and C*** are together. That would be disrespectful to your relationship.

SP: I understand, and that is admittedly part of the reason I waited so long to reach out to you. C*** and I did mutually determine that we aren’t well suited for a relationship together, so we split up on good terms.

Me: How long ago was this?

SP: Last week on Tuesday, after I returned from visiting some friends in Chicago. We’d both been on a similar wavelength for a while.

<<Yeah, he waited a whole WEEK after breaking up with C*** before contacting me. Such an eternity.>>

Me: As long as C*** is in your life, I can’t be in yours.

SP: I know my timing may seem like a rebound. It’s not, I simply value your friendship and company. But I also know how necessary it can be to avoid vulnerability, so I understand. I’ll let you know if C*** and I ever break off contact. You’re special to me regardless. Thank you again for responding to me, take care.

Me: Wow, I feel so fucking special. I’ll be waiting with bated breath.

SP: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.

<<Now, here’s where I had it with his idiocy.>>

Me: Why not take this time to be by yourself? Away from C***, away from me, away from any semblance of a past relationship. Take the alone time to learn what you really want and how to get it. How to express yourself directly, instead of using illusion and vague references. Learn to establish true boundaries. You will keep repeating the same mistakes until you do.

Me: A missed chance… My trust is to be earned. What’s it worth to you? You left a note, but bailed on the responsibility. Take ownership.

SP: In response to your first message, I think you’re right. To your second, I’m not sure how to respond, because I don’t understand. I am only sorry for having hurt you again.

Me: About my second message… You took the initiative to contact me. Yet, when pressed for what you want, you dance around and hold onto the same pattern of behavior that sacrificed me in the first place. If I am so important to you, and worthy of crafting a poem, and coming over here to drop it off, then why bail when I ask you what you REALLY want?

Me: Take responsibility for your actions, both past and present. I felt hurt and disrespected by your actions. You really fucked things up between us. That was your decision, your doing. The missed chance was orchastrated by you. You broke it, not me. What possible effort have you made to admit that and salvage anything between us?

<<You should know that I am not a cusser, and I’ve used the f*word twice already. That’s very uncharacteristic of me. I had enough of his dance. I needed to take the opportunity to call him on his maladaptive pattern of behavior.>>

SP: You are right, I wasn’t ready to start a relationship with you when I did. That was my mistake and fault for hurting you. It was unfair to you and I’m so sorry for it. I left the note because I wanted to be friends again. I’m very sorry for hurting you then and now. I will leave you alone.

<<Now, he’s trying to escape. But, I’m not done yet.>>

Me: It’s going to take a whole lot more than a note for us to be friends. I’m glad to hear that you are starting to be honest with yourself. It’s going to be up to you to decide how important it is to be friends with me, and what you are willing to do to regain my trust and stop repeating the same mistakes. At least do it for yourself, and ask yourself why you need to be friends with your exes. What is it fulfilling in you? Need to be needed? Need to be someone’s savior? It’s time for you to start seeing the value of yourself, and not what you can do for others. You have much to learn, young grasshopper. For someone so smart, your emotional intelligence has much catching up to do.

SP: All good points. I do frequently feel emotionally adolescent. I have a lot of introspection to do.

Me: Have you read the book “Codependent No More“? I think it would be beneficial for you.

<<And so I have entered my helping professional zone. Here I am recommending self-help books. I really need to stop trying to save others, myself. The book really is good, though.>>

SP: It certainly seems relevant, I’ll get it. Thank you.

When the conversation ended, I felt good… almost vindicated. I finally had the opportunity to express some of my anger. I no longer wanted to be with SP. I didn’t even want him in my life. I recognized how emotionally unconnected he was, and his incapacity of giving me love or being in an intimate, true relationship. He was a boy in so many ways. I needed a man.

It’s been 10 months since that conversation. We haven’t spoken a word to each other since. And that’s a good thing.

If I were a boy.

Last May, I had reached a state of numbness. It had been 5 months since I had seen SP, and 4 months that I had cut off contact from him. I had gone out on dates with 3 different men. Nothing went past the first date. The first guy decided to take a job in another city, so that was pointless to pursue. The other 2 guys I had no interest in continuing to get to know. One was just not a good match for me. He was nice, but I had no physical attraction to him.

Guy #3 had suggested that we go to a comedy club for our first date. I thought that was a wonderful and original idea. I met up with him in the lobby of the club. We go to get our tickets. I take out my wallet. I give the cashier my credit card. She asks if I am paying for the both of us. He stands there and says nothing and does nothing. I look at him, and he still says nothing. I kindly say to the cashier, “I’m sure he can pay for himself. I would just like one ticket, please.” If I had not said anything, he would have let me pay for him. I have no problems paying for myself, but considering that he asked me out, I don’t feel as if I should pay for him, too. If we had been dating, then I would have been happy to pay for the two of us, as I have with boyfriends past. But, this is date one.

We watch the show, and the beginnings of the date keep playing out in my mind. But, I decide to dismiss it, as I often do with bad behavior. After the show, we head downstairs to the nearly deserted bar and chat for a couple hours. I am easy to talk to, as I’ve been told, as I work in a helping profession. So, long, easy-flowing conversations with me are not hard to come by. After our time at the bar, we head out to the parking lot. It’s dark. There are not a lot of people around. I walk with him to his car. I thank him for the date. He thanks me for walking him to his car. Then I walk to my car… in the dark, alone.

Was I just the dude on this date? What just happened?

He texted me the next day, saying that he enjoyed our date and wanted to see me again. I never responded.

 

Side effects of life.

137.8 pounds. Off Zoloft completely for 8 months.

It’s been a while… yes, 11 months since my last post. Life has taken me for a ride. Sometimes the riding was exciting. Other times, I felt like I was stuck in the cart.

The Zoloft left me feeling numb most of the time. At least my short-term memory was left intact, and I didn’t repeat the same tasks over and over again like I did while on Wellbutrin. I started to channel Lennie from Of Mice and Men when I was on Wellbutrin. The biggest gift from Zoloft was that I felt like I could function as a human once more. I was able to move forward. I wasn’t happy, but at least I wasn’t in total despair. So for that, I am grateful for the Zoloft experience.

From my current weight, you would think that Zoloft didn’t mess with my metabolism. Unfortunately, I went on quite a run of weight gain. I maxed out around 153 pounds, for a total of a 20-pound weight gain. I was depressed about how big I was getting, and how I couldn’t fit into my clothes. I had to buy some new clothes for a camping expedition this summer. Fat and alone, I felt like such a winning combination.

The weight gain and overall numbness contributed to my decision to start weaning myself off of the Zoloft. I spent 2 months gradually reducing dosages. Brain zaps, dizziness, and headaches were all part of a daily experience for me as my mind was adapting to decreasing serotonin. It wasn’t too painful, but it wasn’t fun either. I felt foggy and lightheaded for a good month.

I have spent the past 6 months getting my weight back under control through diet and exercise. It was a tough struggle, but I finally have reached a point of comfort. I still feel like chunky thigh girl, but at least I can hide it with a good skirt.

There have been interesting developments in my personal life… surprises, reappearances, heartbreaks, sad endings, hopefulness, hopelessness. I’m pretty much right back where I was when I started this blog, with a few more wounds to lick. I’ve grown weary of the day, so I will end my post here. A recap of my wounds will begin soon in my next post.

Loving me is a joke.

Rejection. It’s a part of life. For me, it’s a constant theme. In the end, I feel undateable. Why have me when there is something else out there that is surely better? 

How many guys are there who contact women on Match, and then after a couple of exchanges, **Poof!**, they disappear? What’s the point? Unless you intend to meet in person to determine if there is any chemistry, it’s a waste of time. Reject me after you meet me! The **Poof!** has happened twice in the past month and a half. In years prior, I have had a handful of **Poof!** experiences. **Poof!** guys, please stop contacting me!

SP’s young reunited girlfriend turned the big 2-1. Now she can be a legal mess. Watch out bars and clubs. Lock up your sons! Luckily, she has befriended the likes of SP’s sister and a few of his ex-girlfriends, too. Awww… now it sound all official. They are a couple. Or at least in her mind they are. Who knows?

I have not spoken to SP since the beginning of January, and I don’t plan to ever again. Our relationship seemingly never happened in his eyes. So, why keep someone like that who thinks that you are nothing? Unfortunately, I keep finding the guys who think that about me. I’m the throw away. I’m the joke.

It often feels like a finding a guy who will want and maintain a relationship with me is a fruitless effort. Do I keep attracting the dirt, or is there hope for me? Is it possible that someone, someday will actually love me? And I mean for real love me, and not just say it in order to get married and have a “show” relationship so people believe you are one thing, but deep down inside you are hiding who you really are. Oh, I have entered that realm of starting to disclose why my engagement ended many years ago. Well, that’s deserving of a whole post another time.

The feeling of giving up.

2 months on Zoloft, 137.2 pounds

It’s been a month or so since my last post, and much has happened. I had a birthday. I unfriended and subsequently blocked SP on facebook. I put myself back on match again. I had a date with new guy. I got rejected by new guy. Oh, good times.

I unfriended SP at the end of January. It was through no communication of mine or his that led to it. In fact, we haven’t spoken since mid-January. I just decided it was the right thing to do. I actually felt a sense of relief afterwards. I was moving on, and finally realizing that he was no good for me. After a couple weeks, I came to the conclusion that I really did not want the kind of person that he was in my life. So, blocking him on facebook seemed to be the final act to close the door. 

Mid-February, I was feeling a little stronger. So, I figured, why not open my match profile back up. I reconnected with a guy that contacted me back in December. He lived about 2.5 hours away, but had a lot of potential. As it turns out, he was going to be in the area for a meeting, so he asked if we could meet. I’m all for not dragging out online getting-to-know-you sessions, and thought it would be good to seize the opportunity. So, we met a few days ago. 

He was attractive in person, too. The conversation flowed so easily. We laughed a ton. But, he never complimented my appearance, and the end of the date left me wondering if he was really into me. We exchanged text messages later that evening. He said he enjoyed his evening and looked forward to seeing me again. It sounded semi-promising, but I wasn’t get my hopes up. 

He had a decision to make. He had two job offers… one in my town, and one 8 hours away from my town. He has 2 young daughters, so choosing my town would put him much closer to them. Choosing the further-away job would put him 10 hours away from them. Today on match, he changed his location in his profile to the far-away town. Looks like I lose. Game over.

The opportunity of dating someone seems so elusive to me. I just want a chance. 

I called my doctor today to up my dose of Zoloft. We had talked about increasing the dose a few weeks ago. We agreed to wait it out and see if I felt I needed an increase. I was already considering calling her last week. Nothing like another rejection to seal the deal. 

And if you haven’t noticed, I have gained a few pounds. I must say that I have been eating quite a bit more, and have been inactive lately. So, I take full responsibility for the increase in tonnage. 

And so, I feel like calling it quits on the dating scene once again. I keep going through the motions. It always ends the same for me. I can’t help but feel like my time has passed.