It’s like preaching to an empty church, performing for an empty theater. But I persevere. For art? Hardly. I just need to talk.
I’m not crazy. I spent so many years thinking I was, and now I’m saner than I’ve ever been. I just had to quit drinking and to identify all the problems in my life of which drinking was merely a symptom. I’ve done that. I’ve worked hard and I will keep working.
Things aren’t perfect. I make mistakes. I married the wrong man, and find myself drawn now to men who are so similar to him. I spent most of the day yesterday with Francis, a friend. A friend whom I’ve mentioned before, constantly going back and forth between a desire to spend time with me and the “impulse control” he must enforce because he does find me attractive. What is this impulse control he speaks of? That he has to withhold himself from raping me? More likely it is ego talking, him thinking that he is doing me a favor by NOT dating me because I’m not ready without giving a moment’s thought to the fact that maybe I don’t even want to date him.
I don’t. He has jacked up teeth and is terribly angry.
And yesterday even that friendship was jeopardized if not destroyed when his possessive feelings over me spiraled out of control and he criticized the number of male numbers I have stored in my cell phone. It’s not extraordinary – maybe 10. And there were maybe 3 he found questionable. And it evolved into a lecture about being careful, about not trusting anyone. I tried to turn it into a conversation about risk vs. reward, but he couldn’t stop lecturing, couldn’t stop telling me I was wrong, until he finally told me he was “disillusioned” with me, that this is what he meant when he wondered how I could hurt him.
I told him to go fuck himself and left. He is not my father. I do not want to be friends with a man, much less in a romantic relationship with a man who treats me like a child, who acts like he “knows better” who invalidates my feelings. It’s harmful to me, not to mention offensive.
My sponsor refers to Francis, Martin and Julian as my “fake boyfriends.” Martin loves it, Francis is annoyed by it, Julian would find it offensive so I don’t care to mention it. I suppose I have a need for “fake boyfriends” even in my singleness because of my desire for attention from men, which is, I suppose, an unhealthy desire. At least one of them has been eliminated, and Francis being the one who is constantly encroaching on my life, not allowing me to spend any alone time because he lives across the street and it’s just SO EASY for him to come sit on my couch.
He is no longer invited to my couch.
I am okay with being alone. I get movies watched, books read, blog posts written. I didn’t realize how much I valued this time until my mom was here for a week sleeping on the couch and with one daughter asleep in my room and another daughter in the 2nd bedroom I had run out of places to go. I could escape to AA meetings, but could not come home and cocoon, regroup, relax and enjoy the quiet, the peace, the positive introspection. I’m back to enjoying that gift for a while now. I’m going to try and take full advantage of it.