Tag Archive | 50 Shades of Fucked Up

I Can’t Drink You Away….

This blog MIGHT be all over the place (kinda like my emotions right now) but I promise there is a central theme.

*******Avengers: Infinity War Spoilers********

We all said, nothing can ever be better than Black Panther. I THINK we were wrong. This movie is just….. So first off, FUCK THANOS. His entire existence just ruined my life. For a myriad of reasons. The last 20 mins of that movie are 1000000000 times worse than the Red Wedding episode of GOT.

But what has me awake at 4:30am like I don’t have shit to do in 3 hours, is the relationship between Thanos & Gamora.

He stole her, after he destroyed half of her planet’s inhabitants. He killed her mother, and told her it had to happen that way. He then trained her to be a deadly assassin who traveled the world killing for him. Because he’s an ASSHOLE.

Even though Gamora swore she hated him, when she *thought* she had actually killed him it tore her apart. Like broke her all the way down. Because even after all the abuse, and hate, and self-loathing, that was her FATHER. Every girl just wants a Daddy.

My life is in chaos right now. I reached out to my father, who has more than enough money to help me deal with this situation. It’s an unexpected life altering event, right as I took 2 months (unpaid) FMLA off to help my mom.

I knew he was going to say no. I knew it in my soul. I told my mom he was going to say no. He did. I wasn’t even shocked. I had already been working on another solution to the problem. He has never helped me out in a crisis. He has actually caused the last 2. And yet…..I asked. At 36, I still held an impossibly small piece of hope he would come through for me.

Because that’s what parents are supposed to fucking do – Help their children in times of need. That’s what our relationship was until I was around 12. The spoiled girl who was pampered and NEVER told no until she started gaining weight……she didn’t understand why the relationship just changed. It went from fun to weight control and walking 4 miles a day in the Arizona heat. I didn’t handle the transition well, because I wasn’t prepared for it.

My Hero. That’s who and what I used to think my father was. You couldn’t tell me shit bad about him. And due to his “strict religious and moral beliefs,” he would of course never lie to me or hurt me. Because that’s what the Bible says. But not the Good Reverend. That nigga worked 50 years to push his kids out the house at 18, and tell them to fend for themselves. Because that’s HIS moral obligation. Now, where this supposed code came from, I don’t know.

It took me way too long to understand this code of ethics even existed. [Partially due to my mother’s parenting style, because she’s the best mom ever] I was used to having a need, telling my primary parent at the moment, and getting what I needed. Some people called it spoiled…not sure why. Some part of me still felt, even after all the times he had disappointed me – if I can just explain why it’s so urgent that I need his help, he won’t say no then. I keep banging my head up against this emotional wall.

Always leaving a door open, or a window slightly cracked hoping he will be different this time. Because I never felt more loved and appreciated than when I used to go visit my father in Tucson and Pittsburgh. I still crave that….feeling. I write about wanting that all the time. Thanks to therapy, I know the root of that. But this blog isn’t REALLY about my daddy issues.

I know, insanity. The kid inside of me always feels so less than when dealing with him, because I’m still trying to get him to:

  • Acknowledge that parenthood doesn’t end when your children reach 18.
  • HELP ME GOT DAMMIT

Back briefly to Avengers.

In order for Thanos to reach one of his final goals, he LITERALLY threw Gamora over a cliff, and killed her. I started crying right then. Because GOTDAMN! Gamora’s face as she was falling, throwing out her hands and hoping by some miracle he would save her in the last minutes…….

It was like seeing myself on screen. (This conclusion is why I’m still awake right now) Every time I call my father specifically for his help, I’m hanging off the cliff holding on for dear life. He reaches down, and lifts each finger off, while telling me something about budgeting for unexpected events.

That’s how I see my dad. I paid the mortgage on a house that was in his name for 4 years, for him to tell me if I didn’t let my DEADBEAT ASS SISTER move in (and pay no rent or contribute to the household….did I mention shes is 22 years older than me) he would sell the house, and I would be homeless. This was of course about a WEEK after I had a Grand Mal Seizure at the gym and dislocated my shoulder. And my mom was already staying there to help me recover FROM A FUCKING SEIZURE.

Did Thanos love Gamora, yes? But he – and by extension his agenda – was still more important to himself than his child. I just don’t understand how that is. I try really hard to look at everything from both sides. But my dad….

Seriously tho, Fuck that Nigga Thanos.

I just…. I can’t wait for the day when I can not have “daddy issues” flare ups. This shit is worse than herpes. I might be done tho…because exhausted. Also, I might have already said too much. I had to edit like 4 times before I could post this. Because feelings.

Fuck Thanos So Much

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50 Shades of Fucked Up . . . An Honest Inventory of My Life at 30

This blog was supposed to be written on my 30th Birthday.  As I spent it drunk & crying it was clearly delayed.  This isn’t written for everyone.  Those of you who are casual readers and just happened on this page because of the Tags, sorry if nothing makes sense.  To my regular readers, yeah it’s been a while.  I used to blog monthly.  I always had something to say.  It would come to me, and I would sit at my laptop and just let it out.  I haven’t posted a blog in 3 months.  I need to first say somethings.

1) I am probably the only woman in America who read 50 Shades of Grey, and skipped the sex.  I read the sex scenes sparingly, and usually just went right past it.  In my life, sex has never really played an important role, and I think for good reason.  I can honestly do without it most of the time.  Every now and again, I might get an itch.  Usually, it passes. I let it go.  I was a Virgin until I was 26 years and 8 months old, by choice.  I’ve literally gone 2 years at this point without having sex.  It’s not that deep to me.

This is not to say, that the sex scenes weren’t awesome.  But by the time I got to middle of the book, I wasn’t reading it for that anymore.  It was the conversations, particularly the email exchanges that I loved so much.  Amazing how much more honest we can be in writing than face-to-face.  I understood that part of it perfectly.  It’s harder to share my inner most thoughts while I’m looking at someone.  This is probably why, I hate kissing, and looking people {especially men} in the eye.  Way too intimate.  50 Shades of Fucked Up . . .But We Don’t Judge.

2) 50 Shades of Grey is my life.  I’m PISSED I didn’t write this damn book! It’s almost verbatim conversations that I have had in the very recent past.  It was shocking and strange to see these words, these situations on paper, and know they aren’t something I wrote in my journal.  I started reading the book at 10pm, it is now 3am and I had to blog about this before I could go to sleep.  It’s that deep.

I texted my BFF, “I wanted, more than anything, to be the Anastasia to MM’s Christian Grey.” It’s NOT about the sex.  It never was.  It was about the power.  To have that power, control it, and harness it to be used at your discretion.  I didn’t think anyone else in the world could understand how that felt.  At times, it could have been stated better, but overall, the sentiment of 50 Shade of Grey is EXACTLY what I have been dealing with for the last 6 months.

3) Loving someone who is seemingly incapable of loving you back {the way you Want/Need/Desire them to} will ruin you, if you let it.  If you have read any of my blogs since MM came back, you know where I was just 3 months ago. As I never hide and I share everything, I can share this too.  It didn’t work out.  I was in a dark place for a while because of it.  When it all started falling apart, I thought It was me.  That I hadn’t worked hard enough, done everything that I could have, to make him understand how much I loved him.  It didn’t matter what I said, what I did, how much weight I lost, how I cut my hair.  He wasn’t there, at least not for me.

Seeing the pain, the physical restraint in a man’s eyes, when you get to the breaking point is devastating.  At least it was for me.  Knowing that he loves you enough to share things he hasn’t ever told another living soul, but somehow, something in him won’t allow him to get to that next level is just…  Understanding that you will never be with a person, not because you are less than, but you are instead TOO MUCH.  

I’m not simple.  I had a desire to be simple, for him.  I was willing to step out of my comfort zone, and be who I thought he needed me to be.  In return, I asked for {in my opinion} very little. Sadly, the only thing I asked, he wasn’t able to give. If/When he finds someone else, it will be because they are easy.  If we are still friends when that happens, I will acknowledge that, and be sad about it.

4) It’s okay to want more.  It’s not okay to require more from someone you already know can’t give it to you.  Doesn’t matter how many times you talk to your best friends, how many conversations you have with God, trust YOUR Mind.  I knew it wasn’t there.  Not how i needed it to be.  I had to realize it didn’t matter how much we loved each other, because we do, It wasn’t in the way that would make it work out for us. I wanted all of him, because I gave him all of me.  His 50 Shades of Fucked Up wouldn’t let him get past whatever was stopping him from giving me more.

You ever have a thought in your mind? A picture of what your life is going to be? Destroy that picture.  Please.  That picture will make you search for something that might not be what God has in mind for you.  It’s okay to have a preference, it’s not okay to allow that preference to stop you from experiencing a life you never expected.

I’ve always pictured myself as a Big Girl.  I’m proud of my Big Girl Status, I embraced it and shared that pride with the world.  I, hesitated, to lose weight.  I fought myself, and several family members, about my health for the majority of my life.  Working out is one of the best feelings I have ever had in my life.  The euphoria I feel, when I step off a treadmill after 45mins, and know that I am doing something to make me better is just . . . BLISS.

My picture of me is changing {that blog is coming}. It’s something so unexpected, and beautiful, I don’t even have the words . . . This new me, this new body, this new lifestyle is beyond my wildest dreams.  Add to that, I’ve never loved myself more.  People, you just REALLY don’t understand.  Sometimes stepping out of your comfort zone, will be the best thing that ever happened to you.

5) Today, while floating in the pool at work (yes, the pool at work) I realized that my life, is pretty amazing.  

I walk into work, and at least 7 people tell me how happy they are to see me.  They can’t wait to talk to me, tell me every little tid bit of their life since I last saw them.  I clock out for lunch, and spend the next 45+ minutes working out.  Either on a bike, or a treadmill, or the dreaded elliptical.  Or, lately, In a beautiful pool surrounded by Palm Trees and nothing but blue skies.  I clock back in, and get to play with play-dough, or got for a walk and look for lizards, or shake my booty to the latest in kiddy music, “I’m Elmo and I Know It.”

I come home, and pull into a garage that belongs to me.  I enter my beautiful kitchen, with the skylight and vaulted ceilings, and put my keys on a marbled counter.  I place my shoes on the carpeted surface I placed on the front of my foyer (yes, I have a foyer) and walk across my Hard Wood Floors. I check one of my 4 bedrooms to make sure no creatures have taken over my house while I’m at work.

I can look out my patio doors and look at backyard, with the pool and Jacuzzi (that will work once I find a pool guy who works on the weekend) and picture my family out there on Labor Day.  If it’s too hot, I can turn on a ceiling fan or the Air conditioner.  I can sit on my couch, and stare at my 55″ screen TV, turn on my Dish Network and check the DVR.

This is not me bragging.  Please do not take it as such.  This is me taking stock of my life.

HOW DARE I BE SAD!  How Dare I have the Audacity to be Melancholy about  Life? 

My Life is a Blessing.  I solemly vow to start to treat it as such.