Part 2

• Aug 13, 2008

Part 2

Something feels off about my last post.
Too negative.
I forgot the important part about how being "green" isn't really a sacrifice at all.

Because, really, a great many things that we take for granted today, many of the conveniences and luxuries, don't really add much to life - in fact, some take away from it.

Say, for example, you trade your car for a bike and your steak for a salad.
Right off the top you are saving money. In the case of the car, thousands upon thousands of dollars.
Then, after a few weeks, you are getting healthier, stronger, losing weight, feeling better about yourself, feeling better about getting up and starting each new day.
The same goes of you just take a partial step, say riding the bike to work (or to the train station, whatever) once a week, and reducing animal product intake by half.
You still find yourself with more energy, a more positive outlook on the world. After a few months, maybe a year, chances are you are up to 3 days a week, and meat only for special occasions.

Meanwhile you have this big ole stack of bills piling up in your bank account - oh, and as a side benefit, you are doing a huge service for the environment ("the environment" being short-hand for "the future of all life on the planet, including ourselves")

Its like smoking. For a smoker, there really isn't any reward to each cigarette, other than the cessation of the withdrawal symptoms. The reward to giving it up is significantly improved health, both in terms of being able to catch the bus that's just pulling away, and in terms of a long life. Plus, all the money you save by not buying the cigarettes (and the health care costs some day - because yall know we aren't going to get a nationalized health plan anytime soon).
Its just habit (and chemical addiction) that keeps them going back for more.

Our cars and diet and electricity use and all the rest are basically like cigarettes. They don't make us happier in life, but we have a lot of trouble giving them up.
(The good news is, no physical addiction!)

Other things that are good for the earth, which in the long run are good for our pocketbooks, our health, and/or our happiness, include buying the absolute smallest car you can find, buying less stuff (we all know stuff doesn't really make us happier), living close to work (or better yet, telecommuting), eating organic (more nutrients, less toxic chemicals), saving energy (this should go without saying.) It does take more time to put the clothes on the line. But not only do you save money, that is time spent outdoors in the sun, instead of in some laundrymat or the basement.

Then, with all the surplus in good deeds, spend some of that on the things that make life better, (but maybe aren't the best things ecologically)
If you spent all year saving electricity, go ahead and put up that elaborate xmas light display.
After buying everything on Craigslist.org or from thrift stores, go ahead and buy a brand new high quality food processor.
After biking to work every day, take the car up to the mountains for vacation.
And don't feel bad about it!

Enjoy life. Doing good should not be a sacrifice.

we have some seriously f*cking gnarly trails right here in Oakland

• Aug 6, 2008

we have some seriously f*cking gnarly trails right here in Oakland

It was many years ago when I last rode a mountain bike on a trail.

I had this heavy old Fuji that folded in half, weighed about 50lbs, had a 5 speed freewheel and friction thumb shifters. For those that don't know bikes, that means it was a pretty crappy bike.

But, I had really nice tires on it, and it is just amazing the crud you can ride over with fat knobbies.

But then I moved into an RV, there was only room for one bike, and I took my more versatile road touring bike. The mnt. bike went up on the wall in the garage in Mom's house.

Before long I moved out of the area, then out of the state, and clear across the country. The bike hung upside down, its tires sad with nostalgia of mud. We had once encountered a small stream at about 15mph, and before I had a chance to even get scared (nevermind brake) we were already over and past it. Now, without me, they did nothing but than lose air molecules, one by one.

I came back, eventually, to CA. I took the mountain bike with me to Burning Man.
One night, I parked it outside next to my RV. Someone came by and claimed it. I suppose the idea is, in a semi-anarchistic gifting culture, no one can lay claim to property, and so this wasn't so much theft as involuntary sharing.

I decided that next time I wanted to get a half-way decent mountain bike. Which meant that for years and years, I had none at all, because there was always more important things to spend money on.

Many years passed.

I became a hauler. You wouldn't believe the things I get paid to pick up from people. My TV, DVD, VCR, RePlay, CD changer, sofa, scanner/printer... these are all things I was paid to take away. I have had several bikes, but none were quite right, and they passed through my hands to new owners.

And one day, just last week, I ended up with a mountain bike, and this one I kept.

I was a little disappointed at first when I looked it up and found out how cheap it was when it was new. A bit heavy for the frame size. Cheap forks without much rebound damping. Low end Shimano components.

On the other hand, the frame is far too small for me, which has the advantage of making it lighter (plus plenty of standover height, and a short wheelbase for maneuverability).
The fork has a huge range of easily adjustable preload, changing it from very soft and cushy to stiff while retaining small bump sensitivity.
And, working as a bike mechanic for the past couple years, I recognize that while the shifters are a decade old and were cheap back then, they actually stand the test of time, and this particular design fails less often than many newer and more expensive ones. Just like every other of the same model I've come across, they still shift as crisp and precise as a new set.

Its about half the weight of the bike lost to Burning Man, and its the first bike I've owned with any suspension fork at all.  Took it to work in order to tweak it a little, upgrade a few components, barends, clipless pedals.  Sure is nice working in a bikeshop!

I would normally fit a 16 or 17" frame, and this being a 12.5" frame, I had the seatpost way past the limit mark - the point at which if you bring it any higher there's a good chance it will break off sooner or later, and it was still too low.
I found an old extra long seatpost in the scrap metal bin.  All of the grippy teeth  were worn away to nothing.  I took about half an hour to file new teeth into the post. No decent bikeshop should be without several types of file.

Today was the first day on which I had no work, and nothing planned.

Time to try it out in its natural environment.

The preparation took longer than I had expected.  Stripped the lights and old speedometer bracket.  Pulled the road slicks it came with and tossed on the set of knobbies.  Couldn't find my multi-tool, borrowed the one in the motorcycle.  Had to switch the pump from presta to schrader - but the schrader was broken, had to find the other pump, and switch the parts. Pump the tubes back up - 40PSI; better for traction. Search for trails online.

Load the bike into the truck - it seems wrong to drive in order to ride a bike; but that is a BIG hill on the way to the nearest trail.  Besides, the truck runs on recycled vegetable oil, so I guess its ok.

First thing, I lowered the preload a little.  Started riding, came across a small set of stairs...

W  O  W  ! !

That was soooooo smooth.  It was like a ramp it was so smooth.  Stairs?  what stairs?  I just rode over a speed bump.  No, less than that.  It was like a gentle decline.  For the first time in my life I actually understand why they've put suspension forks on every mountain bike for the past couple decades.

I had to turn around.  I wonder... I rode right back toward the little set of steps.  hopped the first two steps like a curb, and rode up the third, and, yes, it worked, I didn't fall, didn't stop.

Did I just ride up a set of stairs?  I didn't think that was possible.  The trails were awaiting just a few hundred feet away, but I had to ride up and down several sets of stairs first.  How did I go this long without owning a mountain bike?

Ok.  And I'm off.  Long paved up hill.  Creaky cranks.  Rather hot.  And nobody to be seen or heard in any direction.  Riding aimlessly, came across the visitors center, picked up a map, and found where the dirt trails were.

And then, at long last, the real fun began.

I used to ride in the EBRPD parks, mostly Wildcat and Tilden.  I thought there was no legal singletrack in the east bay.  Oh but there is.  We have some seriously fucking gnarly singletrack right here in Oakland.  It wasn't long before I dropped the tire pressure to about 25.  Steep technical rocky ascents, so steep that leaning back a tiny bit the front wheel would leave the ground, leaning forward the back would lose traction.  The fork and fat tires ate bumps like a prisoners last meal, the short wheelbase gave me the sharp handling I had predicted, and the cheap shifters and derailleurs were more responsive at both low speeds and under full pedal pressure than the fancy expensive 105 set on my carbon road bike.
None of this was enough to compensate for lack of skill, however, and I still ended up walking a couple hills.

The park is simply gorgeous.  If I knew anything about plants, I would describe it, but I don't, so you will just have to think of forests you've been in and use your imagination.  Warm day, shady trees all around.  Animals scampering below the brush, always just out of sight.  On occasion hikers, dog walkers, one other cyclist (she was kinda' cute!), but mostly just me, the bike, and the trail.  Silent but for the creaky cranks, and my occasional exclamations (!). Quite a few trail intersections aren't marked, so I ended up back tracking a few times, and wondering if I was somewhere where I shouldn't be (they wouldn't let bikes on a trail this narrow and full of obstacles, would they?)

For some reason all of the most technical sections ended up being uphills for me.  I kept considering going back just to ride them, but I was out to explore, and I don't like to go the way I came if I can loop.  Now and then I would cross trails I recognized.  And then...

This side trail would have been challenging to walk down.  It was steep.  It was full of rocks.  It was filled with deep water channels.  And to prevent erosion, every few feet there were wooden blocks buried which created one foot sheer drop offs.  This would make for enough of a challenge, but the trail also wandered to and fro.  And the plant life crept in on both sides thick and scratchy severely limiting the lines that could be taken.

But this is what I came here for, isn't it?  I won't claim I wasn't scared.  This bike took a staircase like it was a wheelchair ramp.  Its got decent brakes (well, in front, but those are the ones that matter).  I can just try to go slow.  It would take a better writer than myself to put into words that section of trail.  I can describe the feeling though.  Equal parts terror and fun.  Like the first roller coaster that goes upside down that you go on when you're 9 and finally tall enough.  Like racing a small car on the freeway at 90mph in medium dense traffic.  Like technical downhill mountain biking when you have almost no experience at it.  My heart rate and breathing were as high from the downhill as they had been from the uphills earlier.  I don't think I have had so much fun since I worked at the carnival.

Over the drop-offs the front end went so low I had to barely brake to keep from going endo, and compensating with rear brake just had me sliding around - not the best thing when going an inch off the chosen line could mean a big heap of human/bicycle on the rocks and leaving a good portion of my blood behind to nourish the creeping plant life.  After the first time the backwheel actually lifted about 2 feet in the air upon landing I stopped to lower the seatpost a few inches.

After that, (and some time to try to relax and compose) I started to get a feel for it, and go quicker.  I tried jumping a dropoff to stay level... this was the closest I came to actually crashing, and I can not say quite how I recovered.  I decided not to try that again. And yet, just a few dozen feet later the rocks and channels diminished, the trail straightened out, and I found myself able to pick up a lot of speed... except for those erosion berms.  I tried to jump another afterall, and landed straight and level, and after two more it was easy, and I just went faster and faster, jumping down each berm as easy as I'd hop a curb on my commuter bike, and just as I am ready to melt in flying mechanical ecstasy, the trail and I meet up with the main loop, and I slide to a dramatic stop.

A quick check of the map, and some time to catch my breath and stop grinning like a lunatic, commenting out loud to nobody about how unbelievably amazing this all is, and how I can't believe I actually just did that, and that I did it without needing an airlift, or even a bandaid; and I'm ready to follow the loop back toward the staging area.  I'm riding alongside a hill on a trail about 1 foot wide, I wonder how we would pass each other if another cyclist happened to be going the other way, watching for the trail I need to turn off on and - huh?  A street?

I am lost and disoriented.  This makes no sense at all.  I check my map.  I check it again.  I don't know where I am or how I got there.  I turn around.  This is not even a tiny bit upsetting, because it just means I get to ride longer.  Eventually I realize I had been holding the map upside down compared to the world, and I'm actually not that far off from where I should be at all.  Then there is a low bent tree crossing the trail so low I have to get off the saddle, duck as low as I can, and just barely fit through the gap.  The trees back away, and I am riding through a meadow with tall grass.  I am riding through rolling hills.  For 30 seconds, maybe a little more, a dragonfly paced me precisely.  I would look down the trail to see where I was going, and then I would turn my head to the left, and there, right beside me, the dragon fly matched my speed, matched the slight turns in the trail.  It all happened so fast, or I might have gotten its number, and it would have been my new dragon fly friend.  It was not to be.

Then a downhill though the shady trees, smooth and fast, but had to keep glasses on despite the shade and mouth closed despite breathing hard, else swallow a vast number of tiny flys.  I realize that tiny flys are both low in fat and high in protein, but I am a vegetarian, and as such I am just not comfortable with that.

This is not exactly the end of the story, but the last leg of the return trip was not so exciting as the rest.  So I will leave you here with this advice:
go buy a mountain bike!

Constructive critism (your chance to say what you always thought, but were too polite to say)

• Jul 28, 2008

Constructive critism (your chance to say what you always thought, but were too polite to say)

Several independent people have brought up in one way or another the concept of telling someone (specifically me) what one thinks may be wrong with them, and the idea that this would always be offensive and/or hurtful and that it would always be resisted.
Several people have suggested that perhaps it is best to let someone figure it out for themselves - no matter how long it takes, no matter how much negative things they may endure in the mean time.  Those "no matter"s aren't said explicitly, but it is inherent and unavoidable.

I realize and understand that many people have fragile egos.  I understand how any kind of negativity can be interpreted as an insult or personal attack.
So, as far as me interacting with others, I have been trying, and plan to continue to try, to apply that advice, and not give advise or opinions unsolicited.

I want everyone to realize that I am not like most people in some ways.
I do not have low-self-esteem issues.  If anything, I have high-self-esteem issues.  I have plenty of self-confidence. 
However, I do not think, and never have thought, that I am perfect.

I want, and try, to be as honest and objective about myself as I possibly can.
But, of course, being inside my own head, it is impossible to be totally objective about myself.

Sometimes I need help.
If not for a total coincidence, I would not EVER have come to the conclusion that I have some significant attachment issues of my own that affect how I interact with everyone in my life, "on my own".  It wasn't just "time" or "self-reflection" that brought me to understand this.  It was learning new information. 


If someone had told me about AD years ago, I might have been able to apply that knowledge, that self-understanding, and made a lot of different - better - choices.  (I don't blame anyone for that, RAD has only been recognized a few years, and officially adult RAD doesn't even exist.  This is just a hypothetical example)

My point is, unlike many people, unlike "normal" people, I don't take attempts at constructive criticism as a personal attack.
I want to learn and grow and be a better, kinder person. 

Sure, when I first hear something, maybe I'll be a little defensive if you manage to surprise me enough. 
More likely, I will listen, consider, and then tell you why I disagree, with out really feeling hurt.
I will ask you to elaborate, I will ask you for examples, I will try to understand.

I will take some time to think further about it, because I am a slow thinker.

I may still end up disregarding what you say if I feel and believe what you are saying is wrong.  But I still won't be upset with you for thinking it, or for saying it.

SO:

you!  reading this right now.

I want you to tell me what's wrong with me

Tell me what you don't like about me

Tell me in what ways I drive you friggen crazy sometimes

Tell me what neurotic or psychotic conditions I may have

Tell me about my character flaws, my faults, my weaknesses, my vices

Tell me how I could do things better, or what you would like to see less of or more of in me in our interactions.

I don't promise to change, but I do promise not to hold it against you that you were honest.
In fact, if I don't get some harsh words from someone, that's gonna upset me!

You can send me an email if you don't want to post your devastating, cruel, humiliating, and downright mean comments in the comments section of a publicly viewable blog, least others see your comments and think poorly of you for having had the audacity to say such things in print even though it is what I asked for.
Lenardsimp@gmail.com

Yes, I am really serious.

A total change of perspective

• Jul 24, 2008

A total change of perspective

What an experience these last few days have been!

So, from where I left off...

I did not end up learning to sail that day, as my friend / instructor had last minute craziness.
However, I actually didn't feel very disappointed because, in a way, now I get to enjoy the feeling of looking forward to it for another week (or perhaps because I'm scared of falling into the cold wet bay - which is apparently inevitable)
With the unexpected free time I did the laundry, the dishes, a thorough work out (I am getting close to being able to clean and jerk my own body weight), proof-read the blog from the night before, checked my PO box, I can't remember all what else.

As night approached, after that horrible experience the night before of trying and failing to sleep, of spending hours awake in the silent dark, alone with my thoughts a second time, I decided that instead I would not even try to sleep.
This time I took the opposite route, modofinil and caffeine pills and some primeatene just to jump start it, cranked up the music, turned on every light in the house, and did some exercising.

With hours to kill, I looked up an internet forum I found months ago when I was trying to learn more about the sort of psychological issues I suspected my wife of having related to her traumatic childhood, and how it was likely to play out in our marriage.

This time though, instead of looking with a focus on figuring out how to best improve our relationship, I was just looking for general validation and emotional support from people who had dealt with the exact same issues themselves.  There are many post both from people who have attachment problems of their own as well as spouses and former spouses of them.



I signed up this time.
I read a lot of posts that felt very familiar.  I read questions I had been asking, feelings I was feeling.  I started writing myself, wrote in detail about my experiences, I offered advice, or more often just sympathy and understanding, when a particular story resonated most deeply.  Within hours I was getting responses back to my own posts, ones which felt relevant, helpful, and always validating.

When I realized that anyone else online had surely gone to bed, and that I had the most recent post in the top 6 threads, I finally closed the computer.  It was daylight by then.  I spent the day variously: pacing around, lying on the floor, considering returning some work calls and deciding not to, lying awake in bed half trying to sleep, checking for new emails or friends online or how many hits my blog had gotten, taking in the laundry I had left on the line over night, and thinking thinking thinking about all that I had learned and how it applied to my past, how it changed the context of my memories.

Occasionally I could not tell if I was having tiny hallucinations

When I would lay in bed, every single time I heard a motorcycle with loud pipes go by on the freeway, for just one instant the thought would flash through my mind that maybe it was her, maybe she was coming over and would tell me that she was willing to try harder after all, that she realized how important I was to her.  Just for one brief moment.
I didn't really think it was true.
First of all, I was already fully aware that that day may NEVER come.
Not only was I aware of it intellectually, but it was starting to sink in, for the first time ever, emotionally as well.

(Some people I read about had experiences like ours, except over marriages that lasted one or two decades.  Some had had multiple separations and reconciliations.  Some had been in individual or couples therapy, or both. There were some success stories, but there were also many that were not.)

Second of all, I knew that even if that day did ever come, it wasn't going to happen in 1 day (wait, no, 2 days, just because I didn't sleep doesn't make it the same day).  From experience I know she can go at least 3 months while blocking out any positive feelings or memories of me. 
Besides for that, even if she did have a change of heart, she would not have made it known, out of wanting to respect my boundaries and not hurt me any more than she already had.  She can be very caring and selfless in that way at times. 
(Did I make it sound like she never was?  I think that makes for a very poor reflection on me.  I should never communicate the bad things without balance, or at least context.  She is, for the most part, very nurturing and giving, sometimes to the point where she needs to be reminded to take care of herself too, reassured that having her own needs doesn't make her selfish)
So, obviously there was a roughly zero chance that she was going to be showing up

then again, there have been a few times where she surprised me that way

And that made me feel the chances were roughly zero, not zero exactly, and that was enough to make me think "maybe that's her" for one moment, every single time.  And I was thinking about this, about how irrational and obsessive I was being, and somehow being aware of it actually made me feel it even more each time.  Which may not have been such a big deal, except it turns out there are a whole lot of motorcycles that go by this stretch of freeway, far more than I had ever noticed before.  Several per minute.
The ones who took the exit of course were particularly hard to ignore.
Then at one point there was one which just seemed to keep being there while at the same time moving closer, but never actually getting closer.  It was distressing, because I just kept waiting for it to go away - once it passed, it was proof that it wasn't her, but this one wouldn't go away.  I started visualizing her bike coming down the driveway, matching the sound I heard to the fantasy.  I started to grow agitated and anxious, my hands started actually shaking a little, because I knew it wasn't her, but I just had to hear it drive past and keep going so I could know that it wasn't - but it was still there.  It didn't sound idle, it was moving; I started to think that it was a hallucination, that I had been thinking about the real bikes so much that now I was just hearing them constantly when finally I realized it wasn't a motorcycle at all, it was a small low flying plane, and eventually it did fade off into the distance.

When I got in bed, it was never for more than a few minutes.  Same with anything else I did, all day.  Between the extreme emotions, the lack of sleep, and the mild stimulants, I was restless and antsy as well as shaking an awful lot.  I managed to force myself to eat (a handful of raw greenbeans and bitter lettuce, followed by a few spoonfuls of ice cream - finishing that meal took up a good 15 minutes).
I noticed that she had removed me from her internet friends list, yet, interestingly, had not blocked me from chat nor unsubscribed from my blog.  This is not much to go on, but I got the feeling that maybe she had de-internet-friended me in symbolic support of my request to end contact, but she was still interested in knowing how I was doing, and so maybe she wasn't putting up that wall of defensiveness at all this time. 
That was some how comforting to know (or rather, to suspect)

When I would check the computer, sometimes I would notice she was online...
just one click of the mouse, I could reach out to her
so easy, so minor
I mean, she has been a constant part of my life from before I even moved out of my mother's house.  We transitioned into independent adulthood together, as a couple, and the most natural thing in the world is to just connect with her, ask her what shes been up to, tell her something I'm thinking
but, I was the one who was making this choice, right?  I am doing it for me.  She can not be careful of my feelings, so I have to keep her away from me.
And I avoided the temptation, but I knew the fact that the temptation was so strong must say something about me

Some of the things I read, which echoed things I had felt, were written not by a spouse of someone with an attachment disorder, but by a person with an attachment disorder themselves.

This was not the first time the idea had occurred to me
After all, I had very abnormally strong infatuations on random girls throughout grade school, I had never felt particularly connected to my family, I rarely formed close friendships and had little desire for them, and clearly how I felt about Aileen was obsessive -

NO!
Don't say that!
Its Love!
Its Real!

why are you getting so defensive?

that totally invalidates my feelings, it denies that my love for her is based on her
it implies all sorts of terrible things
that line of reasoning leads to total disillusionment...

don't be so dramatic
its over anyway, so there is no point
you can stop now...
just admit that your feeling for her are obsessive

NO!
...I don't want to hear...

Hey! Calm down... look, granted, there is, and always was, a real base.  I'm not denying that.  I'm not taking that away from us.  If we didn't have any type of abnormal attachment styles, I'm sure we would still have picked the exact same person.
I'm not saying the love itself is not fully genuine.  I am only saying the degree of the feeling is obsessive. 
Think about it: you don't believe you could live with out her, do you? 

Well...  no

You feel that you don't just want her, but that you need her?

I... I... yes.  I do.

But that is not true, in an objective sense, is it?

I feel that it is.

But is it really?

I don't know...

Yes you do.

ok.  ok.  you're right.

(in case it is not obvious, this conversation took place inside my head, between my intellect and my feeling.  And it wasn't a literal back and forth, this is just a metaphor of the realization and the resistance to it)

There is a word for that:  Dependence.  I am so independent - right?  Never ask for help, living on my own, running my own business, don't need friends; ah, but...
I need her
Isn't that love? Everyone needs someone!
yes.  true.  but not everyone feels that their entire life becomes permanently devoid of all meaning if that one person is not by their side.

Just look at my blog from last month.  Or last night...  I can not understand all the people around me.  Like I said to my therapist last week, sometimes I have to be willing to consider that, if everyone else in the world is a certain way, and I am different - maybe its me. 
In most ways I am perfectly happy to do things my own way when it is actually better.  Common and normal don't mean healthy or ideal.  However, just because that applies in some ways, doesn't mean I get a free pass on my every neurosis.

and I look at the summaries of the types again: Anxious-preoccupied attachment.
that doesn't sound at all like me, does it?  Sounds like the opposite of me.  ok, but now replace the word "others" with "my partner".  Spot on.

But wait, I only felt there was never enough intimacy because my partner has such much trouble with intimacy.
Its hard to say just how much was each, because they were both factors for sure; my abnormally high desire for intimacy and her abnormally low desire for it (well, more accurately perhaps, fear and rejection of intimacy. Not a low desire - but from my side, it felt the same)

When I first learned about reactive attachment disorder, saw how strongly she fit the risk factors, the behaviors, and the feeling and interpretations that went along with it, I went back and reconsidered every single conflict we had ever had, and it was obvious how and why we had misunderstood and misinterpreted each other and how our lack of understanding of the deeper psychological issues had us blaming each other personally for reactions that were totally to be expected.
(She has gone, at various times in our life, between dismissive/avoidant and fearful/avoidant, both of which, although still under the same general category of reactive attachment, have totally different, sometimes opposite, manifestations from anxious/preoccupied)
Now that I saw that I was not the standard of normalcy I had generally assumed myslef to be, I had to go back through everything again, to see how my own unhealthiness helped shape things, and contributed to our conflicts.

If you have a lot of time to waste, and are really bored, and you don't mind losing a lot of respect for me, you can learn far more about my experiences over the last 7 years than you could ever possibly have wanted to know, by reading my post on the partners of adults with attachment disorder message forum.

One thing I want to point out though, is that what I wrote is very disproportionately negative, and not a fair reflection of the past.  I was choosing to focus on the conflicts and mistakes and hard times, to explore why they happened, how they were possibly interrelated, and perhaps think about how they might have been avoided (or more importantly, avoided in the future).
I was giving the examples of my experience to the other posters, because for me, it felt a little better every time I read something I could relate to, and maybe someone would read mine and be able to relate, and feel validated themselves.
I was trying to look back with enough understanding to show her side of each conflict as being just as understandable as my own, even though I could not understand her side at the time it happened.
And I was also just purging my brain of bad memories, as they lose much of the original bad feelings when they become simply a list of things which happened, in order, a long time ago, just a record of fact.

In reality, there was an immense amount of positivity and warmth and fun and shared experiences and mutual feelings. I very often felt totally safe and secure with her and I often felt that life was just unbearably wonderful and that the future held only better promises to come.  There was so much adventure, sometimes things fell into place so perfectly, and she was so unbelievably beautiful, that it sometimes truly felt totally unrealistic, impossibly good, and I often wondered how I could have been so lucky as to have found her, and to fall into this crazy-fun life.

I don't mention much of any of that in this post.

http://adsg.syix.com/adultrad/forums/index.php?topic=721.0

 I was well aware all along that I was not going to be able to stick with my decision to end all contact with her (I even told her that at the time)
By this time, I began to feel that it was ok that I wasn't capable of sticking with it.  At least I knew why, I knew that it wasn't normal or healthy, but I also knew it wasn't just me.

And, if I have come to terms with the fact that I will not be able to stick with it, is there really any reason to delay? 
I have to begin to recognize when my motivation to contact her is because I like her, I feel comfortable around her and enjoy her company;
vs when my motivation is because I feel that I need to be in contact with her in order to cope with existence.
And I need to act on the former, and find another way to deal with the latter (or at the very least, be honest with both her and myself when that is my real reason)

Earlier in the day, it was the anxiousness that kept drawing me to click open the chat window.  I didn't even have anything to say. And I fought it successfully, and I am glad for that.
Now, however, I did have something to share, I wanted to communicate with her these new things I had discovered, because she is my friend and long-time confidant.
Just as it is important for me to learn what is unhealthy dependence, it is equally important not to throw out the baby with the bath water, and give up everything, as valuable as it is.

And so I went ahead and wrote to her.

My dramatic and devastatingly difficult ultimate decision to permanently end all contact with her lasted only about 2 days

A total change of perspective:

http://adsg.syix.com/adultrad/forums/index.php?topic=722.0

better

•  
• Jul 23, 2008

better

Despair, disgust, apathy, fear, anger and hatred all beckon to me

I do not know what to say to them

And so I stare silently

Like a sheep, encountering a new fence



--------- 





Comfort comes from the oddest places
He made me feel like I am not crazy
I understand why she felt such a longing for validation

When I went outside this morning, it was sunny and bright, but not at all too hot

I have but one payment left, and my home becomes mine

Today I stopped in at a work site
I was only planning to assess, and make an estimate
I did not even bring my tools
But when I looked at it, I could see the problem, and I repaired it right then and there, using my swiss army knife

I found my wetsuit, and the water awaits

I thought that you should all know I am doing better

an update

• Jul 23, 2008

an update

devoid of meaning

a faint echo of death keeps whispering to me from the distance


I do not hear it

I can not heed it

I do not wish to

I know I will not

But it is there






I need sleep

I beg for it

It is callous

Like her

It knows that I need it; but it is selfish, it has its own priorities, and it will not come to me

I know it is near by, just outside, enjoying the night

I have always tried to be good to sleep

Sleep medicine feels no different from no-doz; it makes no difference, not even a little

Maybe I need something prescription strength; medical insurance leaves me in divorce

At least sleep never told me it loved me





I feel as though I have no organs

I may have, at one time, but they have dissolved

Sometimes they have been replaced with barbed wire

Other times they are replaced with nothing

I feel sick

Maybe that's all the sleeping pills

I can't remember for sure, but I think the feeling was already there

I think that was the reason I took them




I keep hearing "time"

This planet has circled our sun

I feel worse now than I did 1 year ago

I did not think, when I last wrote, that it was possible to feel worse than I did at that moment

How much time?

2 years?  3?

What happens to the human brain if it feels this way for too long?

I am told you learn to trust again

I am told you learn to love again

It's not that I don't believe it

I am scared

I would like to see it work

6 years ago I thought this would

Time may heal, but it offers no security





I told her I could not be friends with her

I was not asking for much

For her to keep her agreements to me

Is that so much to ask of a friend?

She expected that from me

I had asked that before we give up, we have at least a short-term commitment with exclusivity, a trial-unseparation, and see how that went 
If it still didn't work out, so be it
She agreed to that

And then she just didn't do it 
She decided she didn't feel like it.

She said she would go through the relationship book with me.  The one that she ordered.

And halfway through, she just stopped, she changed her mind about trying
She wasn't going to try anymore

I asked her to spend a night at my place, because I had been spending a lot at hers

She agreed to that

And then she just didn't

I asked her to read my last letter a second time, after allowing a few days for it to sink in

She agreed to that

She just didn't do it


All I needed was that she not ask me to stay the night with her if it didn't mean anything to her, since she knew I was still in love
All I needed was for her to not have sex with me if it didn't mean anything to her 
She thinks saying the words "this doesn't change anything" made it ok
All I needed was for her to show some basic level of concern, even when I wasn't especially upset

This was not too much to ask

But when I told her I needed for her to be willing to do just these basic things to prevent hurting me so much
She said she was not willing to

She would rather lose my friendship altogether than to have to change anything at all about her behavior

She says she can't help the way she feels

If she would rather lose my friendship than to put even the slightest effort into not hurting me, then she never loved me

I do not hold this against her

I suspect she can not love



I do not want to be writing these things

I want to be writing about anarchy

I want to be writing about prostitution

I can not

I have tried

The words do not come





I should not want her

There is something wrong with me

She had an affair with a married man whose wife was taking care of their newborn first baby

She seduced me recently, knowing I was still in love, even though for her it had no emotional significance at all

She asked me to spend the night with her every day for a week

One week after that, she told her ex, from 8 years ago, she has feelings for him again

He told me that the last girl he was with destroyed him inside

It isn't enough for her to have hurt me so much

She wants to try again, already

Just to prove to herself that she can fall in love

Because I suggested she had reactive attachment

Its worth it to her to hurt someone else just to prove that

He is a great guy

I could see potential for the two of them

But if that potential exists, and has been on hold for 7 years, it will still exist one more year from now

Why does it have to be now?

There is something wrong with her, and therefor there is something wrong with me for wanting her





She says we both deserve better

I think I deserve better

It pains me to say it, but I don't think she does

You don't deserve good things just for existing

You have to earn them

In the beginning I was just as bad as her

I changed and she didn't

She is too afraid to go to therapy

She says she is proud of me for going

She says for her it just isn't a priority

She told her sister she would go in the summer

The summer is half over

She has not made an appointment





She thinks that this didn't work almost entirely because of my personality

She is probably right that there is something wrong with me, specifically, and that we have deep incompatibilities.

That doesn't mean she doesn't have really serious issues of her own

She says that even if I am right about her having reactive attachment disorder, I still shouldn't have told her





I have opened myself

I am going to counseling

I am talking to friends about things I was unwilling to even think to myself in the past

I allow the world to see how I feel by writing where anyone can see - not only close friends, but anyone who knows me, anyone who stumbles upon my website, business associates, the world.
To my friends I say even more
I listen too
I want to be able to be there for them just as much as they have been for me

I want to learn to feel love for people who aren't my partner

I have ripped into my own chest broken open my ribcage and opened everything

But the tar that coats me inside

Thick and sticky

It does not pour out

It coats all of my insides, everything that makes me alive, everything that makes me who I am

And open, it does not flow



The only time the feeling subsided was when we were together

I was forced to choose to give up the one thing that made me feel ok

I was forced to let go of what was most important to me

I tried to loosen my grip, to meet her part way

She would not move any more than the tar does


I have found meaning in my work which I never experienced before
I have found myself volunteering
I have found myself on a date
I have found myself on the roof in the sunshine, dancing in my house, running 12 miles in one day with no training
I have found solace and understanding where I never expected to find it
Even the person she is thinking of getting involved with next has been a great comfort to me; he kept to himself his own interest when he knew I was hurting, and he chose not to act on it
I do not believe she would have that much integrity in his place
I feel that he, like myself, deserves better than her
And even so, I would take her back, if only she would agree to try
Not just to "let things happen", but to try

I have discovered and acknowledged my own weaknesses, my own fears, and learned what I want out of life 
I have seen my own obsessiveness, my own attachment issues, and begun the process of figuring out how to deal with them
I know I can not be objective, but I still believe what I felt - what I still feel - is real

Despite these things I have found, the pain only subsided when I was near her

I told her I did not want to be friends anymore
We can not be close friends
We can not be activity partners
We can not be casual acquaintances
We can not be anything
Not now
Not ever
I am losing much more than just my wife

I am truly losing a part of my life

And Death hides in the shadows around every corner all day
And Death calls softly to me in the night

woke up at 4am

• May 28, 2008

woke up at 4am

Much of the time, I feel like its done, I can move on.
I understand what went wrong, and its too late to fix it.
Ache Vecho.

There is still so much else good in life, good in my life.
Many interesting people, much fun to be had.

I have not been dreaming about her (at least, I don't think so, I usually don't remember my dreams though)
Tonight I did.
She was at my home for some reason.  It was late.  She was in the living room, I in my bedroom.  I had been acting as if everything were normal, but I was roiling inside.
I'm not sure exactly what about.
Mostly I was angry.

Often, I am (angry) when I'm awake, in real life.
But, at her?  at life?  at myself?
I don't know.
I feel like she took from me my love.  The feeling of love itself.  I no longer have any love.  I have nothing.  (I have things, many things, but nothing to take the place of love).



I enjoy writing.  I enjoy running, jumping, climbing, skating, singing while I bicycle.  I enjoy trips to new places, meeting interesting people, going out at night with friends.  I enjoy both of my jobs, I love that I help people, that I'm good at them, that it makes a difference, and not just to some corporation.  I am proud of having a green business, of working for a non-profit, for helping to save the world in my own little way.  I have been largely successful in my efforts to make my neighborhood a little better, making things happen, getting on the landlords case.
I have gotten an unusual amount of attention from women, something I'm not at all used to, and it gives me self-confidence and motivation. I've even been asked out, and she is fascinating and wonderful and fun and we share many ideas and I look forward to getting to know her better.

My relationship, my marriage was the most important thing in my life.  I don't think that is abnormal or unhealthy.  I think she was right for me.  I think we could have been happy in the long run with the right changes.
And so it leaves me in this weird place where the person who has hurt me is also the person I most care about.  Do I want her, or do I resent her?  She hurt me more than anyone ever has.  She made me more happy than anyone else ever has.
Even if she were not so closed to me, and was willing to talk about it, if she ended up wanting to work on it before giving up, how could I ever trust her?  She said she was 100% sure.  She said that over and over.  If she changed her mind about 100% sure, then a commitment from her could never mean anything.  I couldn't feel safe. 
I enjoyed the feeling of being part of a couple.  I considered her in my every decision.  I enjoyed feeling love for someone.  I never felt that before.  I had felt care, infatuation, respect, but not love.  And I feel like she robbed me of all those wonderful feelings.  It may sound illogical, but not wanting her actually hurts worse than knowing she doesn't want me.

In the dream I was roiling inside, but I couldn't really tell if it was hurt, or anger at her, or at myself, or?  I was in my bedroom, and I opened the backdoor and went outside in my bathrobe; the backdoor sticks (in real life), its hard to open and close and when it stuck I just started slamming the door, and then opening it equally forcefully and slamming it again, over and over.  And I started screaming.  This is totally unlike me.  I have never done such a thing, and I doubt I ever would. That would be really selfish. Why disturb the neighbors just because I'm having a problem?  I kept slamming the door until the awning, already damaged from the wind, started to come down.  Aileen came outside to see what was wrong but I didn't acknowledge her.  I tried to put my shoes on because I just wanted to get away form there, but there were rocks in them, and after I poured them out and put my shoes on, there was still one rock I had missed, and I took them back off and threw them at the awning, because I hated them, I was angry at my stupid shoes and the stupid rocks and my stupid house.

And I woke up.
And I couldn't fall back asleep.

It wasn't until around 5:30 that I gave up trying.

I made so many mistakes.  It is just as much my own fault as hers.  I was completely self-absorbed, acting on what I was missing, how I felt.  I didn't know it.  I thought I was being fair, objective, but I wasn't.  I didn't realize how she felt, what she thought internally.  I genuinely did care about her, but I didn't know what she needed.  I didn't know how relationships work.  So many things, if I had known then what I realize now, I could have done differently, and it probably would have saved it.

Everyone I know, everyone, has gone through serial relationships.  They date, and maybe they have a boy/girl friend for a year or two.  Some even move in for a while. 
And they all seem to find it normal, expected, no big deal, when it ends.
You just move on. 
Thats how she sees it.  She expects me to just "let go".
Everyone else seems able to do this.  She seems to have already completely moved on.  Our relationship lasted 7 years, and I felt closer to her than I have to any other person. 
Its been about a month.  We hadn't had a fight, nothing bad had happened, she just decided one day.  We had been working on our conflicts together.
She told me she never felt a connection to me.  She was never "in-love" with me.  To me "in-love" is very different from "love".  You are in love when you meet someone new and exciting - its another term for infatuation.  I didn't see her as my lover.  I saw her as my best friend.  I saw her as my partner.  I was in-love with her, too, much of the time.   It was a bonus.  The times I didn't feel the infatuation, I cared about her just as much.
Is it that I am merely obsessive, or does no one else experience love?
She thinks that its pathetic that I still have feelings for her, that it shows I am desperate if I want to still have some interactions with her.  No doubt she will read this, and it will be further proof to her how sad and pathetic and desperate I am.

I am sad.  But if I was ok with going from most significant person in each others lives to friendly acquaintances over the course of one week (that's when she first expressed that expectation, though it has been a month now) that could only mean I never really had strong or deep feelings for her in the first place.
And she is ok with that, which I guess means its true when she says that she never had strong or deep feelings for me in the first place.  She had told me before, about a year ago, about how she had been blocking out all of her positive feelings for me when she first moved out, as a self-defense mechanism.  But she is absolutely confident that that is not what's happening this time. 
What I thought to be a relationship was all in my head.  We were roommates who had sex regularly, and traveled together. 
We called that a marriage.
But I actually believed it.
I am stupid.

She tells me we don't have a complicated relationship because we don't have any relationship.  Its over, period.  She has no need for closure, because its all past tense. 
We are still married.  That makes a relationship.  One of us wants a divorce.  That makes it complicated.  One month ago, yes, that's technically past tense. 
I'm not over it.  I'm not ready to date.  Frankie had some crazy timing, just happening to meet me a couple weeks after I was available for the first time since I was 21, right when I needed some distraction, some cheering up, some self-esteem, and to be reminded that there are other wonderful people out there. But it might have been better, more hopeful, to meet when I didn't still miss my ex so strongly - maybe when I didn't love her anymore.  (Except; I'm not sure that will ever happen.  I didn't love Aileen just because we happened to be together.  I wanted to be with her because I loved her, because of who she is.  I think I will love her until I'm dead.)

On the one hand, I feel it might not be fair to get into any kind of relationship, no matter how casual, with anyone.  But I was totally upfront and honest with her, she knows I have feelings for my ex, that I believe our differences are reconcilable, and she still called back, she still interested in spending more time together after last time. 
(Have I not learned anything from friends, books and sitcoms?  What kind of a jack-ass talks about his relationship with his ex with a cute girl who asked him out on their second date?  I really am stupid!)
She is certainly not the settling down type.  She travels, she meets new people, she is in love with life too much to be tied down.  I don't think there is any realistic chance of her falling for me, so I don't think I need to worry anyway.  She is experienced, and smart, and its probably pretty obvious where I am right now.

It lets me know that I can.
But I don't want to.

I want what we had.
I want my best friend back.
I want to go on a trip with her, to somewhere new, and see what there is to see.
I want to lie in bed next to her at night, talking, and then put my arm around her before we fall asleep.
I want to watch Lost together, and tell her to be quiet when she keeps asking questions out loud when she knows I don't know the answer.
I want to rub her back, because I know how much she enjoys it.  I want to give her an nice hour long back rub, without any hint of sexuality, with the lights dim, the music soft, something nice smelling nearby.  I want to be the cause of her pleasure.
I want that far more than I want sex.  But of course I miss that too.
I want to talk about our feelings, tell her what I think about, and I want to listen to her.
I want to talk about everything that happened, and why.  I want to apologize for my mistakes and hear her forgive me and I want her to apologize for the things she has done wrong so I can forgive her.  So I can let go.  I want her to open up to me just enough that I can find out for myself if it really wouldn't work.  I want to know that its over because we aren't right for each other, and not for any other reason, so that I can let go as completely as she has.
I want to know that we are fundamentally incompatible, regardless of reactive-attachment-disorder, so that my question of would I even want her back if she were ready to consider it would become irrelevant, because only then could we go back to being close friends without feeling so uncomfortable every time we interact.
We never dated each other.
We met as classmates.
We got to know each other as friends.
That friendship grew as we got to know each other, and there was no romantic expectations or intent.  It was much more real than romance.  I believed then, and still do, that romance inevitably fades, but a strong friendship does not.  Just because we can't be life partners, I don't want to give that friendship up.

I don't know why exactly I'm writing this, and why here.  Am I writing for her?  I would hope not, since this will likely just make her have even less respect for me.  I know many people will read this.  Feelings and thoughts like this are supposed to be private, secret, right?  This stuff is for diaries and therapists.  Actually, I think I will go to counseling myself.  Imagine that?  I can't believe how much I have changed.  How much she has changed me.
I write because its always been my way of letting go.  Because this is interfering with my life.  Its getting in the way of my work, of my side volunteer projects, of spending time with friends, of my writing.  Much of the time, when I'm working, when I'm talking with friends, when I'm biking around, or reading, whatever, I don't feel like half of a couple, I am just me, like I was before I met her, and life is so incredible!  9 times of 10, at the end of the day, I can feel that there's something missing.  We were separated for a year, but it felt different, because it was supposed to be temporary.  We had agreed on that, and I trusted her.
I have a date with a friend today.  Maybe that's why I'm writing this.  Because I don't want to use her to make me feel better, or to bring her down any.  I just want to enjoy her for who she is.  So I need to get this out in advance, get it out of the way.

Only, I have finished writing, but, unlike most times, I don't feel any better.