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  1.  (10381.61)
    When it comes to relationships, I'd pretty much sucked at it for a long time. I've been with my old lady now for just under four years now, and now that we're both getting sober, things are looking pretty good. I'm still planning on proposing this coming spring.

    But in the beginning, when we met, it was tough. She was preoccupied with being seen as this "tough independenent woman," which I love, but it wasn't so much whether that was really her or not, it was that she had to try so hard to be seen that way. Obviously she had been seriously hurt in the past, recently signed divorce papers, and had been sexually assaulted in the past as well, and had never made any attempts to deal with past traumas.

    I knew that there was this really beautiful and caring person inside of her, but as it appeared to me, she acted like any signs of affection would be showing weakness and vulnerability, and she couldn't allow it. When we initially started sleeping together (she didn't even want to consider us "dating"), we worked together, and she wanted to keep things secret. Our first weekend together, we spent about three days basically explaining to each other our life stories, our worst secrets, and basically everything you don't want someone you've just started sleeping with to know about. We called it, "here's why you shouldn't date me," and it totally got us past a lot of unnecessary bullshit.

    What my story has, in any relevance to anyone else here, is one very important lesson that I learned. I learned right away in that first weekend, that I had a chance to be with a vey wonderful, and very wounded person. If I wanted a relationship with her, I was going to have to be extremely patient, and sometimes I was going to have to feel pushed away. I also knew it wouldn't last forever. I just had to show her that someone just straight up cared about her.

    Sometimes she was very rude. Sometimes she was straight up hurtful. The persona she had created to keep people (men, especially) at a distance, was very well crafted. I, of course, never let on that I saw through this persona to the really sweet and caring person at her core, because I couldn't rush that person from coming out into the open. So I let her be the aggressive one, which was normally my role. I put a lot of things I normally did on hold, and I think I learned how to be more patient than ever before.

    Now, of course I wasn't perfect. I'm generalizing a lot of our relationship, and glossing over a lot of the parts that were influenced by alcohol use. But that initial patience, of me being able to wait for her to see I wasn't a creep, I wasn't going to hurt her, and that I straight up cared, I believe that got us to the point where she was able to stop pretending on being this super-strong tough chick, and just be who she is; a strong beautiful woman that doesn't have to try so hard to be seen that way. That it's okay sometimes to rely on someone else. And I think that got us to the point where she could start fighting her addiction and I could work on my codependency and enabling issues.

    I know that a lot of what I said probably still comes off as rescuing or codependent still, and maybe to some degree that's true. But we both look back on who we were four years ago and we're so much happier that we've done what we've done together. She looks back on the person she was and wonders how I could see the person she is now was always somewhere in there. I tell her I'm an excellent judge of character, but that she really couldn't hide that well from me anyways.

    I guess one of the main points that I'm trying to make, is that if I had been pushy, or overly aggressive, she never would have come out of her shell, and never would have tried healing herself. That there is always someone out there willing to deal with what people probably consider insane amounts of baggage. One of the best things we did was sit down that first weekend and just unload. Everything that you normally would try to hide from someone in the early part of a relationship. Everything that should scare someone off; we were straight up honest and forward about. I'm not sure if we intended on it working that way; we may have just been trying to one-up each other; but it worked in our favor.
    • CommentTimeDec 9th 2011
    The lesson is, next time a guy wants in your pants, tell him everything that is wrong with you. If he sticks around, he's not a creep.
    Maybe. That's what I got from Government Spy's story, anyway.
  2.  (10381.63)
    Or, then maybe you're both the same type of creeps? Hell, I dunno what my point was anyways. Sometimes I have to talk to affirm I'm still here.
  3.  (10381.64)
    @Flecky - I am sorry to hear of your friend who threw herself from a building. I've known a number of people who'd attempted suicide, but the two that actually did so with success are they who leapt from buildings. One of which was a junky would couldn't beat it. It seems the most serious and final sort. No fucking around, there. No "cry for help" and no people leaping in at the last minute to save you. It's done done done. There is some comfort in that fact, I feel. They really meant it, and there was no chance that someone could have saved them, no ambulance in time to pump a stomach or something. It's what they wanted.

    So, without the receptor blocker, the drug ingested is basically the same, but if you cheated, your body would actually be capable of getting high now? Like, the training wheels are taken off?

    Hmmmph. Something I find odd in casual conversations I've taken part in at bars recently: I've known a number of junkies. (I dated ex-junkies, future junkies, and now have a handful of old friends who never used to be serious drug people and now have issues with opiates - the pharmaceutical companies flooding the medical system with pills has dragged a whole lot of people into junkydom as they seem to think that it's all fine and somehow not as dangerous because they got a bottle of capsules to cold extract instead of powder in a waxpaper baggie from some dude on a dangerous city corner, but that's another rant). It's strange to me when years after the fact, people will wear this on their sleeves as ... something to brag of? There is a difference. I know people who've gone through hell, who were at a bundle a day, who kicked in jail handcuffed naked to a floor covered in piss and shit while dogs were frothing at the bit, who lost loved ones, etc etc. There is a way that people infer that they KNOW what they are talking about, that they've seen shit, and they may even tell you some of these stories, but it's in a spirit of confession, without bleeding with bravado. Usually, they keep their mouths shut in public. Then... there's the ones that tell tales with a strange pride. It makes me wonder how much the tales are embelished. Because people who've been through REAL HELL don't ... chat about it that way. Don't use it as a conversational winning point during bar conversation, y'know? Street cred and all. It most amuses me when people tell me tales and I realize that I, a naive and sheltered lightweight, could best their stories with ease.

    Yeah, I know my in-person demeanor is one of smiling blonde naivete, of childlike bounce and exhuberance, but really, it's not naivete. It's fucking stubborn willfullness. The world should NOT be a place where bad things happen to good people, where terrible people are rewarded, where nobody can be trusted, where everyone is in it for themeselves. That is too terrible a reality to live with. I know, realistically, that 98% of people are selfish and terrible. But I refuse to live my life that way. I cling. I cling to the fantasy. Because real life is awful. I will, by default, trust every human I meet until they give me a reason not to. As much as I can muster. Until I die.

    In other matters: I had 80% of my tonsils removed lat year. What's left in my throat is currently enflamed and in great pain, and I'm hacking up bloody phlegm balls. I can only imagine how shitty I'd feel right now if they were all there, but still. I had planned to treat myself to an early birthday present and last hurrah of having money and buy myself tickets to see John Hurt in a Beckett play on Thursday, but I'm too sick. This sucks. I tried to do some low impact excersizing a week and a half ago, and my right hip still hurts when I walk. I'm out of painkillers except for tramadol (which makes me feel drugged, unlike vicodin or morphine) and weed (which just makes me not HATE my life, but doesn't really improve anything), and isn't great when you are coughing up red goo. I slept for 12 hours and missed all the daylight hours.

    I am listening to this, and it's awesome:

    Being sick with sickness is lonely as fuck. What I miss most about drugs is the company.
  4.  (10381.65)
    @ governmentspy - I think you described the way most of my relationships have begun. Sadly, I opened up to the person who still didn't want to consider us "dating" after two years of sleeping together and telling each other our life story secrets of damage. Maybe I didn't wait long enough. Maybe I was too aggressive.
  5.  (10381.66)
    Wow. There's a lot of rough times going around. And now that I'm thinking about it, I haven't been hit on in a creepy way for a very long time. Well no, I did tell off a guyfriend online for overstepping boundaries. Thankful for the general lack of creepiness. Benefits of living in a small town and being a hermit? @Rachael: very platonic hugs, if you want them?

    Um... there isn't much to say around here. In about a week or more I'm going to move into an apartment, whether it's in the not all that well kept up but totally affordable (and warm!) one or something better, I'll see. The co-worker who works my shift with me happened to call in like 5 Mondays in a row, and so she got let go, so I've got some solo hours until new people are hired. On the bright side, more hours, on the not so bright side, very very tired. Eh. Things are generally cool, and I'm going to accomplish the one goal I had for the year, so as far as I'm concerned, nothing to complain about.

    I'm crossing my fingers for all the people who are having hard times.
      CommentAuthormister hex
    • CommentTimeDec 9th 2011
    This is why I don't bother with relationships anymore. The last few I had didn't go very well and it's honestly not worth the hassle. I never seem to get a look from the women I like and am attracted to and yet, I seem to attract women with damage or issues that want me to help them. Once I've done that, I'm surplus to requirements. It's happened more times than it hasn't so I don't bother anymore. It's almost sad but not really.

    On the subject of creepiness ... I have a mate who has the libido of an angry young tyrannosaur. Conversations with him are almost exclusively about "hot chicks" and various forms of coitus (he's been brainwashed by pornography into believing that every woman craves anal sex with a Shakespearean kind of longing ... I've tried to explain to him that this is not the case. With absolutely no success. "She likes it in the ass" or "She NEEDS it in the ass" are his two favorite comments upon seeing an attractive woman.) He also labours under the delusion that every woman is attracted to HIM, specifically. He thinks it's cute and harmless, his creepy obsession with sex. I've tried to reason with him. With no success.

    Me, I cross the road, rather than make a woman feel uncomfortable.
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeDec 9th 2011 edited
    Yeah,without the receptor blocker in the meds it would be possible for me to get "high" at the moment but buprenorphine also,paradoxically,works as a blocker as well.The thing is drugs no longer work for me.To be honest if they did i MAY still be using them.I guess it wouldn't have taken me this long to finally stop using them if i didn't love them.It's mad..nearly losing my life from blood poisoning,prison,violence,prostitution,homelessness,losing career,loved ones etc didn't make me want to stop.Something in my soul just cried out enough is enough earlier this year.

    Junkies and there war stories.They can use them to try and "impress" people for their own ends.This i know because i used to do it when younger and i got off on the image of being a lank haired tortured street addict that was "wild at heart" and sadly it did seem to appeal to some people.I had a lot of mates that thought it was cool.I was like some token junky back in the squatting days in London in the late eighties and nineties.And unfortunately it may have influenced some younger people who are either clean now or dead.

    Nowadays i just try and be totally honest about myself and instead try and tell people that are using that it will end badly but i know what it was like when i was younger.No matter what anyone said..if i wanted to get wrecked nothing would really put me off.I've been in this game for over thirty years.I got sorted out for a few years in my twenties and had a great life but drinking heavy set me down the path to going back to the other substances.I cannot get pissed like "normal" folk.The buzz isn't enough for me and next thing i know i'm taking anything in site or on the phone or street hunting down dealers.Like most of London where i live is flooded with crack and heroin.If there is a will there is a way.

    Shit..getting a bit serious here.I don't reckon i'm going to get much sleep as i'm really feeling the drop in meds.I have to keep in mind that it's only been about nine weeks since coming off the evil methadone.That crap is really foul and as i've said here before it is no answer for addiction.All it does is numb life.

    Jigsaw made a good point in the Saw films.Methadone is just a masking agent.Still,his therapy for getting clean and staying off is a bit extreme.Even for this "hard northern english bastard detoxing addict".

    Torture-delia and twatatonia.More hippy shit herbal tea for this twisted test subject.

    Hell aye.
    • CommentAuthorMrMonk
    • CommentTimeDec 9th 2011 edited

    Sorry to hear about your friend. Hope that you're taking it well. I've never known anyone who really gets hardened against friends or acquaintances taking their lives or losing them stupidly.
  6.  (10381.70)
    If we are ever in the same area will you have coffee with me?
  7.  (10381.71)
    @Rootfireember -

    I will indeed. Well, tea probably. :)
  8.  (10381.72)
    Ah the creepiness factor. I've always been atrocious at reading social signals and either emit none at all, or screwed up, confusing or inappropriate ones. I'm always worried about being the creepy guy - not through having creepy intentions, but just by not knowing what the hell I'm doing and not being able to pick up on any feedback. I gave up trying for relationships or sex years ago, which isn't a fantastic way to live your life, but - on a global scale of shittiness - isn't a terrible one either. Hell, I have clean water, a job and socialised healthcare, I'm doing pretty well by world standards.

    Sure, it can get tough in the long watches of the night, blah blah blah, but I'm still here and I'm still alive - screw you universe! :)
  9.  (10381.73)
    BWA HA HA HA! Oh man. I mean no offense, but just reading through this thread, I said aloud: "god, what a cheery lot we are." and burst out laughing. (mostly at myself)

    Christ. I just got these images of an Adams Family looking drink up, with all of us standing awkwardly around a room with mugs of weak tea, looking at each other uncomfortably, hardly talking to each other, except those of us in a corner excitedly comparing pill bottles and scars.

    HA ha ha ha... oh man.
  10.  (10381.74)
    That's really funny. :)
    Although I imagine we'd all have our phones or whatever's out a d be texting each other instead of actually talking!
  11.  (10381.75)
    @Rachael - yeah, pretty much sounds like my Saturday nights :)
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeDec 10th 2011 edited
    @Rachael: That is some funny shit.All of us in a room drinking tea,checking each other out.Confined for days til we start bickering and screaming about weird crap and breaking into splinter groups.Then some strange people from the military would come in and start dragging individuals away while the rest of us would be shouting "Why have you brought us here?What the fuck is going on?We have rights you fuckers!"

    After a few days of tests and probing only a few of us would be left.The most weird,crazy,hyperactive,silly,intelligent,angry,fucked up etc.At the point of insanity a git in a wheelchair with a beard would come in.

    Thus is born the all new Doom Patrol.And finally the bad guys in the world would shit themselves.We probably wouldn't last long but i dare say we would leave this fucked up world just a tiny bit better.

    Sod it.I'm going to start making my crappy outfit today.Rubber knickers,a bin bag for a top,stockings,converse baseball boots,a naff Grendel mask and a paper xmas cracker hat.Going to get my team of hideous crack sex dwarves in weapons division to build all sorts of cool shit into my walking stick whilst i build chimp shit grenades.See if i can get a motorised skateboard on the the net.

    You lot think i'm joking ?..Check out the news later.London will be burning.And i will be in the police shop laughing my head off.

    Bail me out as i'm a bit skint at the moment.

    Ta kindly oh Whitechapel.
  12.  (10381.77)
    Getting all of us in one place would be awesome! I think everyone would cheer each other up to no end :D
    The lot of us have a lot in common. And most of you remind me of my friends (the one's out of the interwebs ;)
    And meeting everyone would give me a chance to hug each and every one of you, cause i'm like that.

    Mostly I'm a pretty private person with my personal life. Tho currently trying to focus on my three jobs (as a wonderful distraction and I love doing them). Things in the relationship department are making me want to scream, cry, and throw everything in the house just to hear something else break.

    I empathize quite a lot with goverment spy, tho i have to say your patience seems limitless. <3
  13.  (10381.78)
    Oh, but I'm also a total nutjob.
  14.  (10381.79)
    everyone is crazy- it is just a matter of finding someone else your crazy is compatible with
    • CommentAuthorflecky
    • CommentTimeDec 10th 2011 edited
    I've found a few who my crazy has been compatible with and one ended up burning her house down.

    Currently got a thing going with a nutter.She's ok but our mind-clash is berzerk.Yet fun.

    Nutjobs are fun.

    @MrMonk:Cheers mate.I'm still a bit in shock from it..but ok.Ta.