I feel like I should feel depressed, considering an alcoholic lover died in October, and then my primary alcoholic relapsed on thanksgiving and blamed me while leaving me with the bill, and it's winter and I'm cold and alone, and grieving, while also dealing with a breakup (initiated by me, because I can't be triggered by his suicidal binge drinking after one just died of the same disease a little over a month ago).
But I feel good, and grateful.
Alcoholics are easy to live without. It's sad to see these men self destruct of course, and I'll always remember the good times, but it's hard to miss their belligerent anger. It's peaceful without them.
Ideally I'd never see men, but would receive reassurance that they're alive and healthy and happy. But of course they aren't well. They're dropping like flies.
I mean, M had a bigger meltdown about his work being short staffed one night, than I'm having about death and a breakup. Men feel no joy, and I know this, because they all tell me they're depressed, and I see it in their faces. Men I barely know text me about their depression. Yet they won't stop doing the things that make them depressed.
Some of them even try to blame me for not attempting to fix them. I did not know that was my responsibility.
What's that quote... 'The greatest gift you can give me is working on yourself. The greatest gift I can give you is working on myself.'
I feel sorry for my friend the therapist. Being both a therapist and a woman is a double whammy. She has zero bandwidth left for being emotionally supportive within friendships, because every man she dates expects free therapy. So she repeatedly has to dump them. She has excellent boundaries, but it's still not enough to ward off male entitlement. But she still likes sex, so she suffers.
Quitting sex (or minimizing it) made my life a whole lot easier. I still find myself in male company sometimes, but they can't affect me much now that I don't feel any type of sexual urges toward men anymore. Dating alcoholics will do that to ya. Even when I see men in porn, I make a face of disgust and scroll quickly to find boobs to look at instead. Seeing cocks ruins my orgasms now. I really can't.
Before pandemic it was becoming increasingly hard to get myself excited about sleeping with men, even if I really liked them. But I thought to myself, don't be a prude, sex is healthy!. So with that "healthy" thought in mind, I'd guzzle down as much alcohol and weed as it took to "enjoy" sex. But the most enjoyable part was when it was over. Then they wanted sex again the next day and the next and ugghhhh. It's just never enough. I hate that feeling.
There's very little to miss or be sad about, even though I feel like I should be. I have everything I need. It's a whole lot easier to nurture my body and mind and cope with grief alone, than try to move forward with a manchild holding onto my ankles and interrupting me with demands every five seconds: "Feed me, sex me, fix me, save me!"
Sounds super fun. Where do I unsubscribe?
I don't understand why someone would so enthusiastically initiate elaborate plans a day in advance in such a happy mood, only to be unreachable the next day, and then drunk yell and curse at me just for asking if he could let me know if his plans changed or not. We hadn't had a fight. We had sex and kissed goodbye and he reminded me not to forget about tomorrow! So I believed him. The next day he's belligerently yelling at me unprovoked. My therapist said that's just "addict behavior." What a learning experience I've had with addicts. My oh my.
8:02 a.m. - 2022-12-03