Thursday, August 25, 2005

More Babble From The Love Addict - Volume 1

So it wasn’t all that long ago that I actually believed in happy endings, I had sold myself on them so many times that I had completely blown myself into full scale love addiction. I was engaged once before I got married the first time, for anyone who didn’t know that. She was the woman that I was with when I got sober. She was a beautiful woman with a great heart, and a raging case of co-dependency. She was the one who when I suggested that she go to alanon, looked me square in the eyes and said, “My Father is an alcoholic, my mother is an alcoholic, all of my brothers are alcoholics, and to top it all off, my boyfriend now says he is an alcoholic. Do you really think I need alanon?” which answering with “Well Duh?” really started spiraling the whole relationship down the toilet.

No matter how long I stay sober, or how far away from the drink I actually am, I attract the same type of person, horribly, irresponsibly, vacantly, earth shatteringly, mind blowing Greek tragedies, known as Co-Dependants. Almost every one of them in denial, or worse yet, not in denial, and using it as the crutch to what awful little things they do. The best part about it all is that I enter into these little deluded fantasies with each and every one of them. Happily ever after, white picket fences, person to grow old with, la la la la la la la la, lock stock and barrel, I was the sickest of the wellest, or so I tried to convince myself, with every single woman that I took hostage, or yes in some cases allowed to take hostage of me. My first wife was my child hood sweetheart, it should have been happily ever after there correct? Well every sign that could have possibly been there to state otherwise laid in the middle of the street as I had run it down recklessly. She was nasty tempered, she was very vindictive, she was a hopeless, and shameless gossip, and worst of all she was horribly naïve to think that I was Mr. Right too. For despite all of my best intentions I had turned into the worlds greatest isolator, and she had all of the characteristics that a man could want in his excuse to isolate. She got sick of me working 70 hours a week and coming home to my “other job” running a home based online service, and hanging out in the IRC rooms when I wasn’t doing either. In the end, she started sleeping with my best friend, and with time, I stopped blaming her for that. I still take issue with how she turned my whole family against me, but that is a different story {laughing}. I showed her though, as I started sleeping with the first thing that would let me. The cheating contest had begun, and in the end I won it, because mine ended with a child {Captain ADHD … read the living with evils’s threads for more on Captain ADHD} and he is a beautiful boy.

Now the sad part about sleeping with a woman who is unfaithful to her husband and accepts you infidelities as well is that she probably is inevitably going to do it to you, and that is what she did. I don’t know when it started I don’t know how many men, and yanno, I really don’t care. Ok I don’t care now anyway. She inevitably after 3 years, which had hosted another baby, and my adoption of her daughter {Lazius Boycrazius … see the other blog entries as stated before} found the man who was going to take her away from me once and for all, while I was in the hospital with chicken pox, and near fatal Zoster Pneumonia. I was absolutely heartbroken, even if this relationship had not started out of love watching her give birth to my children had made me love her like nothing I think I will ever feel again. I was totally destroyed, confused, and a stark raving angry lunatic. I went into the hospital 210 lbs at 5’ 8’ with a wonderfully plump 36 inch waist (ok I guess it was hard for me to sell the wonderfully happy routine, but I tried), and when I got out the Pneumonia had already stripped 20 lbs off of me. The other 45 came off in the next 2 months as the insanity, had started riddling my brain.

I have suicidal tendencies, if you didn’t know (which you should damnit from my “My name is Jeremy and I am a Drunk” threads) and my method of suicide is always starvation. I had a new twist on it this time called “Exorcise Bulimia”. This new found Psychosomatic behavior manifested within me the feelings of “I will show her!” as I was going to the gym for at least 2 hours after every time I ate. I was spending at least 5 hours a day throwing around weights, and it all started with the 5 lb dumbbells I could barely lift, because when I got out of the hospital I was weaker than my youngest daughter. Body building had become my new girlfriend and she was never going to hurt me. The body fat on my frame was down to less than 4 percent within a year, and I was a very psychotic looking 5’8” 185 lb 30” waist freak, and my doctor said that I was going to die. My body was producing testosterone faster than I could hold. Any of the anti-depressants that he was giving me were just turning to adrenaline, and I wanted to kill all the time. Even though I consciously thought that I wanted to stop my own brain was holding me hostage. Women were expressing interest in me, and I was self medicating my love addiction through my suicidal tendencies, and dismissing every woman I met offhand. This was probably a good thing really in hindsight as I don’t think I would want a woman who wanted that man anyway. Did I mention that I was 12 years sober as this was going on?

I finally came down off of that lunacy, with the help of a new type of anti-depressants at the time called Celexa. It didn’t stimulate, it retained, and my mind was slowing down, and the beast was being calmed. I was not quite out of the woods yet, as I had now been given the clarity to pursue some more realistic goals in my life, I once again made my usual every few years escape from Nooooo Hampshah, and was off to New York, to just be the hell away from here. I progressed into a beautiful {oh my God I am laughing my ass off now … sorry} relationship with the woman who was to become my 3rd wife. Sure she was about 13 years younger than me and awestruck by how wonderfully I treated her, and sure she helped me spend all of my life’s saving, but what the heck … this was forever wasn’t it? I mean it had all of the makings of being my happily ever after. She was a woman, and breathing, and loved me. When my oldest daughter came out to live with us in New York {because she couldn’t take another week of waiting for food stamps to eat, as she later confided in me} this woman was the perfect mother to her. I’m not kidding either, my daughter became a wonderful young lady in days of being out of that horrible situation she was in, and this woman was playing out the fantasy, I had always dreamed of. Unfortunately life got in the way of that fantasy, as we had to move back to Nooooo Hampshah {surprise surprise} due to a little accident.

Back here, we were happy for a while, she did her best, and in the end, the money ran out, we stopped being as in love as we had been, we actually stopped touching each other all together, and she woke up one day saying, “Why do I have to put up with all of this?” and she left. I don’t blame her for that really, even if a few of the problems I have today might have a little to do with her, they definitely don’t enough to make me bitter, and when she became a lesbian, I found it more amusing than anything else. I’ve heard and laughed at every joke that anyone threw at me, and in the end I am still friends with her {which anyone who has read these things knows quite well} and plan to see her today for “Little Evil’s” birthday party.

Many months passed and I ended up getting into another relationship with a woman who not only lived 3000 miles away, but was a stark raving newcomer. After her, a relationship with probably the only woman who rivals the 2nd ex in sickness, and the epiphany that I was a love addict and hopelessly addicted to the fairy tale, was born. I learned a lot about me during the months that I stayed totally single, and was sadly very waning in my enthusiasm for ever getting into a relationship again. I made a ton of self discoveries, which included learning to affix blame where it belonged. Sometimes me, and sometimes others. I learned to take things at whatever God Damn speed they come. Sometimes quickly sometimes slowly, but always in God’s time not mine. Most importantly, I learned that sometimes “fondness” for another human being might find you whether you are willing to admit it or not, as I ended up in a relationship of a romantic nature, with a really good friend. Despite what anyone says, I was very lucky that she put up with all of my psych-ranting about how I should be the last thing any woman would want to be with, because I am sick, and evil, and dumb, etc etc etc. And I am very happy that she doesn’t get jealous of my other girlfriend …. This Blog :8o)