So, The Story Goes…

I can’t believe I am retelling this story again.

But, here it goes…

The story is, I was never a reader growing up.  I would rather do than watch which is what reading felt like to me.  I felt reading was passive.  Its’s not that I couldn’t read or read well.

Unfortunately for me, my action orientated mind landed me in a reading-for-the-impaired class when a teacher asked me to read out loud then explain to the class what I had just read.  When I said I couldn’t explain what I had just read, she sent to remedial reading class.  Upon which the first day I was kicked out.

The teacher asked a student to read – I couldn’t believe how low these kids were reading let alone how slow.  This poor kid had a problem reading out-loud a simple word  like – T-H-E – I was so upset with having been placed in this class, I started yelling.  What is wrong with you, You can’t read that word!!!!!!!  The teacher asked me to read next, and I read as fast as I could, I was so upset.  I was told not to come back to that class.

When the teacher asked me to explain what I had just read and told her I couldn’t it was because I was thinking about so many other things other than what I was reading at the same time as I was reading that I wasn’t paying attention to the exact story.  My brain had other ideas in mind other than the science book I was asked to read.

So, I grew up not being a reader until…I became so upset from watching a movie.

Twilight came around and was everywhere.

Ugh, Twilight and vampire, and UGH!

I didn’t want to watch Twilight.  I am too cerebral, interested in culture, the world, and life to care about teenaged vampires!

However, I decided it might not be a bad idea to see why the whole world is in love with Twilight.  I was a care-giver to my mother at the time, so stealing away to go to the movie theater was a big deal at the time.  Sometimes, it was more than six months at a time before I left to go do something just for myself.

I went.  I saw Twilight…I thought, it’s not so bad.  I’ll go see the next movie when it comes out which was New Moon.  I waited and planned for New Moon.

That stupid movie!!!!!

That is how you end a movie with a wedding?!  What?!  Why?!  Ugh?!

I despised the ending!

I was so upset…for days!!!!  I had wasted my money, and  more importantly my precious time.

I tried to figure it out.  I decided there must have been something lost in translation from book to movie and that is why it was so bad.

So, I bought the books.

First book, not bad – easy reading.  Next book, and the next book.  I wanted to read them all because I was enjoying it.

Then, I remembered when he told me we were like Katherine and Heathcliff.  I remember it, but I don’t feel it anymore just like I don’t feel anything anymore.

So, I read Wuthering Heights.

Which brought me to another time when he and I argued over whether it was Anna Karenina or Anna Karen.

So, I read Anna Karenina.

Not, my favorite story, but there was a story beyond Anna Karenina which started in Volume eight.

In volume eight, Tolstoy shares more of a personal essay into what was happening in his life at the time.  For me, it was a profound moment reading volume eight.  My mother had been tiresome during the night.  I was up all night making sure she was ok, and didn’t have any more strokes.  But, this night she was particularly hard on me.  I couldn’t even stay in the room with her.

I had to finish reading this book.

When…with the reading of seven little words, my world changed.

I nearly dropped the book out of my hands.


What, just happened?!  Why was he at the center of the sentence?!

Memories, the past, all flooded my mind trying to comprehend.

I had loved him more than I had ever loved any other man in my life.  Yet, I had never been able to tell him, or share with him how thankful I was just to have known him.

I felt a connection to him – at the time – I thought, would never end.

Unfortunately, for me…I don’t feel anymore.  I have a complete disconnection from my heart and have been disconnected for years.

However, had I not read Twilight, I would not have read Wuthering Heights, had I not read Wuthering Heights, I would not have read Anna Karenina, had I not read Anna Karenina, I would not have leaned an appreciation for reading and classical literature.

What Choice Have I Had?!

For so many years now, I have been living a life of one, two, or three.

The truth is neither of them are valid nor have they ever have been.

If a man chooses and makes you live separate and apart from the world just to prove whether you will choose the first, second, or third choice – he is not really a man, or a man worth living for.

I cannot begin to explain or tell you the devastation the first choice has done to me and left me with – he has removed himself so far from me.  I am truly devastated.

The second and third choice have played so many mind tricks on me it is embarrassingly painful.

The truth is what choice have I had?!

Once I discovered their deception I would never choose them again.

But then, what choice have I really had?!

I Want It All To End

I have been lied to by every employer I’ve had since 2013.

All about when the control would end and I would get my life back.

The last few lied about timing.  First I was told six months and it would end – it didn’t.

Then, I was told three months and it would end – it didn’t.

I have been placed in isolation, separated from the entire world since 2014.  My entire surroundings are controlled.  Every person I meet already knows who I am.

This is entirely unfair to me, more correctly it is extremely cruel to do to a person.

I am unable to speak to people, have a social life, or any resemblance of a life other than going to work and immediately home.

I have never been more depressed in my entire life.

I don’t even get to say no.  I don’t get to say this is enough.  I don’t get to say I don’t want anymore.  I don’t get to say leave me alone.  I don’t get to say I do not want a virtual life.  I don’t get to say I don’t and never did want to be virtually fucked.

I don’t get to have a life.

How can a person live without being able to say no and be heard?

How can a  person live without the ability to control their life?

I have been lied to again by my employer which has really hurt considering the source.

I don’t know how to continue any longer when every time I’ve been lied to about a time line and when this will all end where I get to have my life back again where I get to have my mind and my brain to myself alone.  Where no one enters my mind.  Where if someone wants to know what I am thinking they have to ask me in person.  Where no one is able to create pain or sensation in my body virtually.  Where no one can contaminate my food, or the air, or control the weather, or the traffic.

I could tell there was something wrong at my job in 2013.  It wasn’t until the beginning of 2014 I knew my entire workplace was faked, and it ruined me where I could no longer be myself anymore.

I can’t stand looking down anymore.

I can’t stand being walked in mazes and driven in circles.

I can’t stand this fake life – I never could.  I was told it would end in a one year.  Well, this control has been happening going on three years now.

Can you imagine three plus years without having a single friend to talk to in your life?!  Let alone not being able to even have a boyfriend for more than three years?!  To constantly be stuck in a virtual world not of your choosing?!

Changing jobs doesn’t help.  The virtual control remains the same regardless of where I go or do.

I want to live and have a whole and complete life.  I want a man to talk to, to love and be loved in return.  I want to be the love of his life.  I want to be wanted by him.  I want him to want to spend the rest of his life with me.  I want him to find me.

I don’t want to be locked away in a virtual prison anymore.

I want to be set free.  I want to be sprung from this cage.

I don’t want to meet famous people, actors, or celebrities in disguise, or virtually.

I don’t want to follow clues.  I don’t want to choose numbers or sides.  I don’t to be shown or told what to buy.  I don’t want anyone to control my underwear, or the air.

I want an end to this fake life, or I will be forced to end my life.

What I Didn’t Understand

Sometimes prayers are answered, but you just don’t understand it at the time.

Praying silently for hours at my mother’s bedside begging God to give her back to me because she was the last person I had left in the world who loved me.  What good is this life without love?

Leaving my mother’s side for a moment, my mind was overcome with pain, hurt, and loss.  Yet, in a moment a name was whispered in my ear.  He had not been a part of my life for years, I brushed that moment aside as soon as it happened because when it came to him I left so much room for doubt.

When we were together it was different – I was different.  Just being near him I was different.  He made me feel alive in ways I can’t explain.  He had a way of turning me on – not just sexually, but parts of me I didn’t believe I had.

However, I was so hurt by him.  I believed he felt the same for me, yet he never spoke of feelings to me.  I believed he was either ashamed or embarrassed to have feelings for such a large woman.  I cannot begin to explain the pain it caused for him not to speak to me, or share his emotions with me.

Years later after our worlds went in separate directions, I tried as best I could to reach out to him.  He closed the door so severely it made it impossible to approach him again.

Perhaps, though what I didn’t understand in the moment when his name was whispered in my ear was that my mother was not the last person in the world I had left who loved me.  Perhaps, he did love me, or perhaps there was a man out there who could and would love me and that was my destiny and my future.  I did not need to spend years of my life caring for her just to have some form of love.

The problems with my father at home were and are so difficult to explain it was hard to believe in any other future other than protecting my mother.

Perhaps, what God was telling me and letting me know – in an answer to my prayer – is he is out there.

Returning home from the hospital my mind was a mess thinking about him while trying to put my life together.  What do I do next?  Thinking of him at the same time, trying to understand why it was his name that came to me.

He has been the strongest connection I’ve ever made.  He was not my first love, or even my friend really, we were just a boy and a girl who went to college together.

We were in a play together.  I was Big Momma and he was Gooper in a Cat On A Hot Tin Roof.  The director stopped and changed direction.  The direction was for me and him to turn at the same time from opposing sides of the stage.  The director said it looked liked incest.  Because I couldn’t help myself when it came to him, I was excited and happy every moment I got to see and be a part of his life.  I remember the turn.  My heart leapt at the sight of him.  It was something I couldn’t control.  It was just pure happiness.

Our last conversation I will not forget.  He and I sitting on the lawn just talking.  He was going one direction in life and I in another.  I knew that would be that.  We said our good-byes.  I walked away.  But, I looked back, I had to look back as we walked away from each other.

I was a mess for months and months afterwards.  It was as if I was in this world, but not apart of this world as my tethering point – which was him – was gone.

Yet, at this moment he has been presented to me as my greatest enemy, killer of all my hopes and dreams, the one person who has brought me to the point of suicide every day for years.

Perhaps he is my enemy with only one wish to destroy and torture me.

I don’t know.  We haven’t spoken to each other for years.  He chooses to not be a part of my life.

But, an answer to my prayer was he is out there.  I just didn’t understand at the time.


A realization hit me tonight – it has been more than 25 years since a man has found me attractive enough to ask out on a date.

I mean, I’ve been on a few dates a few years ago, but they were all a set up.  Only a couple of them where ok-looking, but hardly what I found sexually attractive.

I understand I am no great beauty.  I am just an average looking woman.  But, in more than 25 years I have never met another man – other than Michael who wanted me.

Michael was not a good man.  I didn’t understand completely until tonight that was the last man who is ever going to love me.

I just can’t live like this anymore.

I just can’t manage or deal with the stress and isolation of this life any longer.

Especially since I’ve come to understand Michael is the only man who has and will ever love me.

Laughter – Gone

The last time I remember really laughing was at Panera.

A man asked to meet me at Panera.  I was skeptical.  It felt like a set-up  – it was.

I walked into Panera with this man.  I showed up late, dirty hair in a ball cap because I intended to dye it later that evening.  I ate before because I didn’t want to share a meal with this man any longer because I cared nothing for this man.

At Panera, I saw him at a table with other men.  He had closed the door to him so severely, I didn’t go to his table to say, “hi.”  I walked outside without saying anything or even looking at him when I recognized him.

Yet, outside eating with this man I could feel him looking and watching me from the window.  As always when I was around him he turned something on that lit me from inside.

I was hilarious.  I was witty.  I was so funny.  I was improving and throwing out one-liners that would have entertained the entire world.

I knew I was funny.  Not because the man was laughing – I just knew I was funny on a professional level.

What I have learned.  What I understand – I will NEVER be that person again.

My proof is the last few times I’ve met him and been around him.

I’ve turned away.  I’ve not acknowledged him.

He walked by touching my knee at a bar a while ago.  I didn’t speak to him.  I touched his side as I left – that was all.

There was a time I thought I needed to speak to him one last time.  I guess that time is gone.

And with it, my laughter has gone.



The End Of My Ability

Can someone please explain to me why a single man does not ask me out, does not ask for my time, does not ask me anything?!

I am not unattractive, or undesirable, or ugly, yet I am left in a prison and unbearably alone.

Still not writing.

This house is a prison.

Can someone please explain to me why every man I might find sexually attractive is already involved with another woman?!

I feel the time is too late and my time has long since passed.

Why do I continue on when I so clearly should let go of this life that has nothing left for me.

Let go of this life – Yes!


Did you know it was possible to manipulate bugs and insects through radio wave frequency.  We’ll it is.  You can get them to fly in different directions, and go from room to room.

I’ve discovered I have neighbors who will go to such lengths to torment and torture me.  Anywhere there is the slightest gap, front door, garage door, window, or balcony they are able to – best way to say this – inject bugs, gases, scents, etc.

I mentioned in the post previous that I believe my boss dated me in disguise several times.  I would never have dated him – as I knew him, otherwise.  Physically, he doesn’t do it for me.  Which is a very big deal if you don’t find a man physically/sexually attractive then what is the point of the relationship?!  In my opinion.  Why would I date a man I wasn’t sexually attracted to?!

One of the biggest problems while working at The Container Store, not a single available man I found sexually attractive could be found.  The only men willing to date me were men I was not sexually attracted to – so, unsatisfying.

Since moving here there have been several instances of being drugged.

At a party I had three beers, and then a friend gave me a shot.  I woke up with a man on top of me in his car.  I started freaking out.  I had never blacked-out before when drinking.  I know, I’ve written a lot about being home-bound (so to speak) while taking care of my mom.  Honestly, I am not much of a go-out and party all the time.  I am more of a home body.  However, with that being said, I certainly know how to have a good time when I am out.

I couldn’t believe it.  I was trying to put the pieces together while trying to come out of the fucking hang-over.  One of my first thoughts was after losing weight – this is the guy I get to sleep with?!  Oh my God, he was old, and just moderately attractive.  Worst of all, he just so happened to be the father of the man in a position above me at work whom I greatly admired, respected, and thought was just oh-so-handsome.

He took me to his hotel.  I spent the rest of the night in the bed opposite him, fully clothed.  As he walked his wrinkly, naked body to and from the bathroom.  I can somewhat laugh at it now.

You look at a man naked, his body should be desirable.  Looking back at it now, it belongs in some sort of comedy.

The girl who gave me the shot of vodka at the party was someone I worked with.  I’m telling you now, I know there is no way I could have blacked-out after 3 beers and a shot over the course of about 3 hours.  I believe I was set-up and drugged.

A birthday party.  I went to a friend’s house for her birthday.  I know exactly how many beers I had when another friend from work showed up.  She made a shot – I woke up the next morning.  With another friend telling me a story about how I hooked-up with the tallest guy at the party.  Great, a step-up, I get the taller man, but these guys were none of my type.  Simple, not smart guys.  I was outraged!

I don’t do one-night stands.  I mean I’ve had them, but so very few.  I may have been drinking when they happened, but I remember everything.

Then, another instance of being out with friends, and I woke up the next morning.  Having had my clothes taken off and wearing pajamas.  Who does that?!  Who takes your clothes off if you’ve had too many?!

I believe I was set up on all accounts.  I believe something was placed in my drinks to either accelerate the alcohol or to make me pass out entirely.  When my clothes were taken off of me, I found an unusual mark on my body the next day.

For me there is no reason or explanation for any of this.

I don’t see any reason why anyone would want to drug me.  But, it happened.  I don’t have a way to prove it, but I know each of the instances I’ve written about did not happen on their own.  They were planned and purposeful.

I tried speaking to other’s about the occurrences before.  I was shut-up.  Basically, told not to speak about it.  Because it was more important for someone else’s project to not be discredited.  I was not allowed to tell my story, or share my feelings.

It was like being repeatedly raped, and told it didn’t happen.  Told to pretend.

Someone told me once that taking care of my mother, I had placed my life on hold.  I’d heard many versions of that while being her care-giver.  I didn’t absorb it because I didn’t believe it.  For me, I had always known it was only going to be for a time.  Then, another chapter of my life would start.

For me, this having to pretend all the time is worse than having my life on hold.  Because at least I had a purpose while taking care of my mother.

Everywhere I go, people look at me as if they already know me.  Everywhere I go.  It is like being in a virtual movie set, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year.  It is absolutely stress-full, and stress-filled.

I cannot pretend any longer.

I cannot pretend that the job I go to is real.

I just can’t…anymore.