One day I was feeling like the walls were closing in on me.  So, I thought maybe I’d go visit a friend.  As I started to mentally review my friend list I was shocked to find that I didn’t really have a list.  Where did all of my friends go?  Now I know some of you may be asking yourselves; What could she have possibly done wrong to lose all of her friends?  Well, I wondered the same thing!

The answer was not simplistic and it turns out, I really wasn’t to blame.  Actually, I couldn’t find a soul to blame!  The fact is, “life’s changes bring about changes” and my life had definitely changed!  I had become a Full-time Care-giver who’s life now revolved around my loved-one.  So my friends fell away.  See, it’s sometimes difficult to maintain close bonds when your day to day experiences begin to differ greatly from those of your former cohorts.

So, new relationships are virtually “thrust upon you” by the very thing (care-giving), that cost you friends However, now you meet other Care-givers through support groups, e-communities, and blogs.  Your bond is also the reason you don’t have time to get together and just “kick it” with each other!  The proverbial “Catch-22″, if you will!

By now you may be thinking that I’m whining and complaining, but I’m not.  See, I believe it’s better to face facts then to pretend that things are not what they are.  Change can occur once  I acknowledge the reality of my situation and decide I want it to be different.  Two very real challenges are; My free time is extremely limited and I may have to alter my schedule without a moments notice. Those are just two of the very real challenges I face.  However, I am a Care-giver by choice and I don’t regret my decision even when times are very difficult!

Today is a new day and I’ve put some things into motion that will garner me some new friendships or, at the very least, some new acquaintances.  My situation hasn’t changed significantly, but my mind-set has.  I believe that as I move forward and as I do what is in my power to do , GOD will do that which I cannot do.  It’s a win-win situation!  So, with my sparkling cider in hand, I toast to the future friends I have never met!

I think that I am a dreamer, which follow my imagination

which dancing with the sense and mind

wishing of something to tell

I think I belong to the words, and make them my world

  playing with the lines of a poem

wishing of something to tell

but often my imagination seems friendless

the words are seems so endless

and the lines of the poem so far away

for there is nothing to tell

and sometimes when I am feeling so helpless

when I am almost to surrender

then I remember that I am a dreamer

so I have to be had

something to tell

Since my husband killed himself nearly two years ago, thoughts of suicide have been my frequent companion.  Several times these thoughts have resulted in my going to the hospital for evaluation.  Sometimes, but not always, I am also depressed when I feel this terrible compulsion to kill myself.  I call these compulsive thoughts of suicide the Whisperer because it feels like someone is urging me to kill myself.

I have worked out astrategy to handle suicidal impulses.   It isn’t a sure-fire solution but it does help.

First, I pray.  I can find comfort and assurance in prayer.  Reading the Bible and reading authors whose work I can trust also fall under this dictum of prayer.  I  find especially helpful a couple of books by Patrick Reardon, The Trial of Job and The Jesus We Missed: The Surprising Truth About the Humanity of Christ.  Understanding that Jesus  was really human, that when he underwent temptation he felt tempted.  When Satan took Jesus into the desert at the beginning of his ministry and told him to throw himself off the mountain because God would save him, we know that Jesus was genuinely tested.  He wasn’t walking through it like playing a part in a film.  He felt the temptation.   This makes him a savior I can relate to.  If you search back through my other posts you will find that Job’s trials helped me to understand the impulse to kill myself as a trial by God.  God isn’t standing aside being repulsed by my urge to kill myself, he is loving me and giving me the spiritual strength to endure.

What if I can’t pray?  Then I ask the Holy Spirit to pray for me as described in Romans 8:26.  I also ask friends and fellow Christians to pray for me that God will comfort me and strengthen me.  Send me a comment asking for prayer and I and others who read this site will pray or you.  Not just once but every day.

Second, I do the things I love even though I don’t want to do them.  This takes tremendous will.  I love to hike and since I  live in New Mexico near the Sandia Mountains I am able to hike when I want.  It always helps.  I come back restored to who I really am.  Sometimes I go every day.  Just knowing that I can go hiking the next morning gets me through those terrible nights with the Whisperer.   I also take photographs when I hike and sometimes I  go out in the city to take photographs in the evenings when the Whisperer afflicts me.   Seeing through a camera lens changes my perspective and cleanses me of my own preoccupations with age, loneliness and fear.  In the evening  I go to places where people are shopping or eating in restaurants and take photos of faces and grouping that catch my eye.  Amazing how purifying that is.

Third,  I seek out people.  Since I don’t have many friends, I usually go to a restaurant where I know the servers and talk with them.  We just talk stuff.  None of them know my problem.  They tell me about their kids and problems with jobs and sick parents.  Somehow caring about another person helps me to forget myself.   It always takes an effort to get beyond myself but when I do I find it liberating.

Fourth,  Send me an email at msscholz@aol.com and I will respond as soon as I get it.  Let me know your telephone number if you want me to call you.  Maybe we can pray and talk and that will help.  If you don’t want to email me then call the national suicide hotline and they will connect you with local help.  The number is 1-800-273-8255.

Just remember, Friend, that if you can make it until the morning or for a couple of hours you will see things differently.   Whether you are lonely or afraid, abused or old.  Whatever the problem, it won’t go away but it can get better.  There are people who care.

I care and want  to help you.  I will pray with you, listen to you and give you a shoulder to cry on.  Just don’t take that final step.  You will be glad you didn’t and so will I and a lot of other people who read this blog.

God addresses Job who is silent before God. Why? God hasn’t answered Job’s questions about his suffering. Yet God has satisfied Job because God has spoken to him and that was what job really wanted. God then asks Job who is more righteous God or himself based on the evidence.

In Job 40:8 God asks:
“Would you discredit my justice?
Would you condemn me to justify yourself?

So what did Job gain from this trial? According to Fr. Patrick Reardon, “One observes in Job’s repentance that he arrives at a new state of humility, not from consideration of his own sins, but by his experience of God’s overwhelming power and glory. When God finally reveals Himself to Job, the revelation is different from anything Job either sought or expected, but clearly he is not disappointed.”

The modern world does not greatly value humility. Certainly it is rare for parents to stress humility as a virtue for their children. You need self-confidence is a common dictum to children. I am no different. I have valued my independence and self-reliance as much as or more than most modern people do. My husband’s suicide and the subsequent deterioration in my mental state with suicidal ideation has certainly caused me to reconsider my reliance on self. In my current state self-reliance seems delusional. In my temptation to suicide God’s power and my weakness are exposed to both me and all the world. Fr. Reardon says of Job’s trial “Instead of pleading his (God’s) case with Job, as Job has often requested, the Lord deals with him as with a child. Job must return to his childhood sense of awe and of wonder. It is the Lord’s last word in the argument.” Certainly as a result of my temptation and trial I am more aware of my complete dependence on God. Every breath I take is because he wills it. This is something I have always known intellectually but it now has an immediacy and actuality that is more real than all my human concerns.

In wisdom literature the doubling of Job’s fortune and life and God’s direct interaction with Job are definitive. In my life I learn more slowly and I must wait to see if this trial is ending or if it is simply an interlude. In either case I am grateful for the much-needed rest.

Perhaps their problems might have been spiritual. I wonder if loneliness and fear were the motivating factors. Our society is one that promises a “safety net”. But what is the safety net for despair? Did the brother in seeking help for his sister get handed a lot of forms with stern admonitions about qualifying for help. Was he met with hard faces at the agencies where he went for help? Did he belong to a church? Did the church look beneath the surface to see the despair? Or were they just overlooked by all these organizations of help as a an unnecessary impediment to their mission.

People over 80 have the highest rates of suicide in the country. Why? They are too often left alone to cope on insufficient incomes and illness without people who befriend them.

While there are many people genuinely trying to help people like the Robsons, I don’t think that government agencies or even churches are the best way for them to get help. Neighbor’s who look out for warning signs, who visit even though they have busy lives, who try to understand the neglected and desperate are the foundation of help. It is so easy to turn a blind eye to the desperate.

How often when I have tried to help someone who seemed needy have I been rebuffed or perhaps my help was abused; the need was feigned. As a consequence I have found myself looking away from problems and letting myself grow cynical. When I do this I miss the chance to help someone genuinely in need that God is calling me to help. I am sure that what I have done is a terrible thing in th<a
Let's look around us and notice those in need. Those who aren't visited, who remain alone day after day and remember what our Lord said about helping our neighbor and the widow and the orphan. Let's not wait for the agency to step in but get them the help they need.

Please let me know what you think about the Robson's. It may be that nothing could have been done. Yet again something might have been done and wasn't. God forgive us if that is true.

On Friday I decided to move from Albuquerque to Santa Fé. This was unthinkable before because by moving I am leaving my husband behind, or at least our last years together before his suicide.

It’s strange but this town has never felt right. It isn’t a fit for me and I don’t know why. I suspect it has to do with all I suffered here.

I feel friendless although I do have what I would call practical friends. Those who share a meal with me at a restaurant, those I see at church or even those I exchange birthday cards with. But I haven’t met anyone in Albuquerque who shares their life with me. Perhaps the best way to characterize Albuquerque is that it is an antiseptic that may have been good for my wounds.

This morning, Sunday, I went to Holy Trinity Orthodox Church in Santa Fé. I used to tell my therapist when I lost my faith that I missed God and I missed liturgy. When I received my faith back, I got God back. Today I got liturgy back. With it, I prayed with all my senses as well as with my mind and my soul. It was glorious and exhausting. I guess it was a return to the very thing that brought me to Christ.

The Orthodox church this Sunday commemorates the women who came to the tomb carrying myrrh to anoint Jesus’ body. The priest said the women were the first apostles. I like that. He pointed out that timing was everything. Had they come to the tomb sooner the stone would have still been in place. Instead they waited and when they came the stone was rolled back and they were the first to know that Christ was no longer in the tomb. The priest said that to wait for a closed-door to open or in the women’s case, a huge rock to be rolled back is not a vacant activity devoid of meaning. It is a time of active waiting and often yes, a time of suffering. But if we don’t wait for God’s time then we may miss the resurrection.

All of this makes me think of the trial of Job. Fr. Pat Reardon says that Job didn’t know that God was trying him. His friends said that because God was just then Job’s punishment was for sin he wouldn’t admit. Job knew he had not sinned. However, God knew, Satan knew and the Bible reader knows that Job’s suffering was a trial that gave God glory in light of Satan’s taunts. That Job suffered because God allowed it. The odd thing is that God never told Job why he suffered. But it was enough for Job to understand how great God is. He understood that his questions needed no answer in light of who God is.

Now that is an example I would like to follow.

While I have a couple of Job’s friend types in my life, most of the people I talk to don’t even know what I am going through. The ones who do, they care. I could call a couple of people now and they would try to help. But they just can’t. Frankly I don’t want to ruin their day by saying what I have already said repeatedly. They pray for me and that is really the only thing that can help.

The gut churning confusion prevents me from praying eloquently. Mostly my prayer is to ask the Holy Spirit to pray for me. God reads my blog long before I write it so he knows what’s going on. I guess today my blog is my prayer. Dear God, I am not asking you why, I know this is a trial. I know that you intend to carry out something with me, though I don’t know what that is. I know that if you made it easier for me, you wouldn’t achieve your goal. It just has to feel this way because that is what changes me.

You who follow my blog strengthen me with your words and with your prayers and I know you will do that when you read this. Many of you have a Whisperer as well and you are fighting the same fight. I pray that my trial will strengthen you and make yours easier. God bless you my friends.

Give me strength Lord to bear it.

I made arrangements for my own funeral and body disposal since there is no one to do it when the time comes. I carry a device which allows me to call for help if an emergency arises no matter where I am. I depend on the kindness of strangers in an emergency.

My worst fears are living in a public nursing home, left in my mess to lie for hours while unfeeling staffers ignore me knowing I can’t cry out. That I have no one to help me. So many have passed the end of their lives this way. A final suffering of indignity. To be utterly unwanted and unnoticed. Their passing just a blip on the surface of time.

Yet I know a couple who have a son who cannot see or walk or talk but he can and does smile. He is in his thirties and knows he is loved. The mother’s life revolves around her son. I have never discussed it with the couple but I’ll bet they have made every arrangement to have him looked after when they no longer can. But I am sure they must fear for him.

One person in a loving couple can probably depend on the care of the surviving spouse. But that spouse may have indifferent children or none at all and face the same fears I do.

Suicide is a solution. Surely Job thought about it as he sat on the ash heap with only uncaring friends and a wife who wished him to die. Why didn’t he do it? God wasn’t there for him as he had been in the past. He wasn’t answering Job’s questions about why this was happening. His friends were telling him it was his fault because he sinned. They told him God would never had done this if Job hadn’t sinned. Yet Job knew himself to be innocent.

People speak of the patience of Job yet what choice did he have? The one thing he knew was that God had loved him in the past. I think he was sure that contrary to what he was experiencing God’s nature had not changed. That there was something in the situation he didn’t understand. And he sure did ask. But God remained silent.

We know what Job didn’t know. That God was allowing the Devil to tempt him to prove that Job was a truly good man who loved God. But God never did explain this to Job. He asked him “Where were you when I created the earth?’ Job 38:4. He then asked him the same question about God’s creation of the heavens and all the creatures of the earth. God pointed to his creation and his power. Finally Job understood just how small he was in comparison to God and he said:

“You said, ‘Listen now and I will speak;
I will question you,
and you shall answer me’
My ears had heard of you,
but now my eyes have seen you.
Therefore I despise myself
and repent in dust and ashes.”
Job 42:4-6

Did he repent for a sin he just remembered. No. He repented for not recognizing God’s absolute power over his creation.

So it seems that my only recourse in my fear is to remember Job and endure just as he did because I know that God is good. Also I pray for kindness of strangers.

Friends, write to me and I will pray for you and ask your prayers for me.

1. Today has not been any different from the past couple of days since my summer vacation started. Eat, internet, movies and blog. What. A. Life. I could not stress enough how much I need to go out and do my summer checklist. Now I realize how much I procrastinate. I should get a trophy for this or something.
2. Anyway, my dad told me a few days ago to look for a summer job. I tried. And failed. I could not find any decent jobs around my city. If I don’t become a call center agent, I become a stripper. And call center is not on my list. I should try going to the field and actually look, not on the internet alone. But then, I sat on the table for lunch today when my mum asked me about summer class. Whew! At last, some one supports me with this. I want to enroll, badly. In case you didn’t know, I’m a shiftee and I’m a little behind with my subjects. I don’t want to finish college in 5 years. But my dad didn’t say anything. Usually, this is a good sign. Meaning, he actually agrees with my decision. But sometimes, his mind takes a little tour on a different way and disagrees. I don’t know what he wants me to do. Help.
3. I had McDonald’s for dinner today. No for fast foods! But I cannot pull myself back. I want to be a vegetarian, but burgers love me.
4. I need to do something with my life. I kept thinking about this, but I could not make up my mind. School ends soon, like 4-5 years and life kicks in. I want to work hard for my success. Or I could just marry a millionaire? Ha. No.

DIE UNSTILLBARE GIER

Endlich nacht, kein Stern zu sehn.
Der Mond versteckt sich,
denn ihm graut vor mir.
Kein Licht im Weltenmeer.
Kein falscher Hoffnungsstrahl.
Nur die stille und in mir
Die Schattenbilder meiner Qual

Sie ahnte nicht, dass ich verloren bin.
Ich glaubte ja noch selbst daran
dass ich gewinn.
Doch am diesem Tag geschah´s zum erstenmal.
Sie starb in meinem arm.

Wie immer, wenn ich nach
Dem leben griff,
blieb nichts in meiner Hand.
Ich möchte flamme sein
Und Asche werden,
und hab noch nie gebrannt.

Ich will hoch und höher steigen,
und sinke immer tiefer ins nichts.
Ich will ein Engel
oder ein Teufel sein,
und bin doch nichts als
eine Kreatur,
die immer das will,
was sie nicht kriegt.

Gäb´s nur einen Augenblick
des Glücks für mich,
nähm ich ew´ges leid ihn Kauf.
Doch alle Hoffnung ist vergebens:
Den der Hunger hört nie auf.

Eines Tages, wenn die erde stirbt,
und der letzte Mensch mit ihr,
dann bleibt nichts zurück
als die öde wüste
einer unstillbaren gier.
Zurück bleibt nur
Die große leere
Und die unstillbare gier.

Doch immer wenn ich
Nach dem leben greif,
spür ich wie es zerbricht.
Ich will die Welt verstehn
und alles wissen,
und kenn mich selber nicht.

Ich will frei und freier werden
Und werde meine ketten nicht los.
Ich will ein heiliger
oder ein Verbrecher sein,
und bin doch nichts als
eine Kreatur
die kriecht und lügt
und zerreißen muss
was immer sie liebt.

Jeder glaubt, dass alles einmal besser wird,
drum nimmt er das leid in Kauf.
Ich will endlich einmal satt sein.
Doch der Hunger hört nie auf.

Manche glauben an die Menschheit,
und manche an Geld und Ruhm.
Manche glauben an Kunst und Wissenschaft,
an liebe und an Heldentum.
Viele glauben an Götter
Verschiedenster Art,
an Wunder und Zeichen,
an Himmel und Hölle,
an Sünde und Tugend
und an Liebe und Brevier.

Doch die wahre Macht,
die uns regiert,
ist die schändliche,
unendliche, verzerende
zerstörende
und ewig unstillbare gier.

Euch Sterblichen von morgen
prophezei ich
heut und hier:
Bevor noch das nächste Jahrtausend beginnt,
ist der einzige Gott, dem jeder dient,
Die unstillbare gier.

ENGLISH

Finally night. No stars to see.
The moon hides itself
Because it is terrified of me.
No light in the ocean.
No false ray of hope
Only the silence. And in me
The silhouette of my pain.

As always when I
Reached out for life 
I couldn’t keep hold of anything.
I want to be a flame
And become ashes
And haven’t yet been burnt.

I want to be high and climb higher
And sink deeper into nothingness.
I want to be an angel
Or a devil
And am just
A creature
That always wants
What it can’t have.

If there could be just one moment
Of happiness for me
I would accept all the grief.
But all hope is in vain
Because the hunger never stops.

One day, when the Earth dies
And the last person with it,
Then nothing will remain
Except a barren desert,
Of an insatiable greed.
The only thing to stay behind is
The big emptiness.
An insatiable greed.

Reach out for life
I feel like it shatters.
I want to understand the world
And know everything
But not know myself.

I want to become free and freer
And get rid of my chains.
I want to be a saint
Or a sinner
And yet am just
A creature
Which creeps and lies
And must always tear apart
What it loves.

We all believe that everything becomes better
So we accept the grief.
I want to eventually be satisfied
But the hunger never stops.

Many believe in humanity
And many in money and glory
Many believe in art and science
In love and in heroism.
Many believe in gods
Of many different kinds,
In miracles and in signs,
In Heaven and Hell,
In sin and virtue, 
And in the Bible and breviary.

But the true power
That rules over us
Is the disgraceful,
Endless,
Consuming,
Destroying,
And eternal, insatiable greed.

You mortals of tomorrow,
I prophesise
Here and now:
Before the next millennium begins
The only God, whom everyone serves
Is the insatiable greed.

Oh no, it’s another one of them. Yes, you  low-classed-optimistic-hipster-prostitute, this IS another one of those blogs.

Sue me.

I’m a raging hormonal teenager who feels the need to spill her deepest darkest secrets, without the stupid mental deficiency that prevents me from telling it to my friends and family.

I try, honestly, I just feel blocked. Thousands of words swim through my head, over and over, just spit them out, say it, then the moments passes.

Now it’s time for me to sort out my priorities.

It’s a new feeling for me, abandonment, shunned, or worthless, not sure what to describe it as. I am a shell of what I was and I’m not so sure I can get back to what I was or who I was. I allow things to effect me
more than I ever have before. My fuse for patience is non-existent, I am easily set off and I know it even when I’m in it.

What I do have left for friends, they don’t know me and all they see is what I want them too. So there really isn’t someone close to me that can help me. I seek comfort and peace with what has happened and I’ve asked to be forgiven and to be able to forgive. Anger, jealousy, and revenge are some strong emotions to be holding on too for so long.

All is going well in my life, I still have a great family, my job, my health and the Lord. But, I am a lonely guy, and for the first time in a long time, I am friendless. I am one who usually surrounds himself with many people and now, I have little to none.

Maybe this is exactly the plan, for me to be alone so I can focus on other things that maybe have not gotten my full attention. Maybe seeing things in a new perspective is exactly what I need to do. I don’t like it right now, but maybe that life I see, isn’t my life any more, maybe it’s a ghost reminder of what and who I was. This new life I am in, may this be the hope and the life I’ve been praying for? The revelation I needed? Maybe this is my baby steps into something new and I’m not supposed to see it all right now. As I grow, will the rest of me grow too? A lot of maybes and what ifs.

I am complacent.. I am boring.. I am stagnant.. Life? Where?

Some of you may or may not have noticed that I’ve been missing lately. Sure, I’ve posted a couple of things here and there, but overall, my posts have been lacking enthusiasm as of late. There is an explanation, and I’m ready to talk about it.

I’m going through some… issues. I’m not a private person, so I have no problems working through things in the open, I just haven’t known quite how to talk about what’s been going on in my life. It comes down to feeling a lot of shame and embarrassment, but it’s time to set that aside and come clean.

I’m addicted to sleeping pills. I’m also having marital issues. Those two things are not unrelated.

As of tomorrow, I will have been off of the pills for one week, and it’s been hell. Forget the fact that I’m not sleeping well, that was to be expected. Withdrawal has been kicking my ass. I feel like I’m in a perpetual state of motion sickness. I’m not looking for sympathy, I did it to myself. I have no doubt that I will kick this habit. If I can quit smoking and junk food after a lifetime, then I should be able to overcome two years of pill popping.

The marriage and inner struggles are another matter. Whereas I know I have to kick the drugs because they will hurt my body and compromise my ability to be a good parent, I’m not sure I want to change my marriage or myself. I think to explain my muddled thoughts on this subject, it’s best to go back to the beginning.

Picture me at 17. I loved to party. Not in the getting hammered way, just in the having a blast with my friends way. I actually rarely drank, I didn’t find it necessary to have a good time. I had loads of friends. I didn’t care about popularity, I would hang out with anyone. When I think back on it now, I actually only had a handful of very close friends. They were very dear to me. But I could have fun with anyone. Student council, athletic kids, geeks, artists, everyone.

I was also a huge flirt. I flirted with everything that moved. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want to lead anyone on, and did my best not to, but I liked flirting. I think it makes people feel good, and I loved to make people feel good.

I wasn’t very discerning romantically either. I had bushels of boyfriends. Not to say I was loose or something. I was probably more of a tease and managed to stay a virgin far longer than most of my friends. I loved boys. LOVED ‘EM. Dating was fun. I never got too attached though. I had a three month rule. Anything longer than three months was too much of an emotional commitment, and I wanted to have fun in my youth.

That all changed when I met The One.

November, 2000. Semi Formal was coming, and I was set up on a blind date. Actually, it wasn’t my blind date. A friend of mine was supposed to go, but she was sick and we didn’t want to disappoint the guy. Oh, what a sweetheart he was. Kind, handsome and just a little bit shy. He held doors for me, pulled out my chair, got me a corsage. It was my first ever blind date, so I didn’t know what to expect. Ever the charmer, I had him out of his shell by the end of the first dance. He was laughing and joking, and even dipped me on the dance floor. That’s the night it happened, I found my life partner.

When I saw him, I leaned over to my date and said “Hey, you see that guy over there that just came in with that blond? I’m gonna marry him.”

And the only other thing I remember from that night is the way He walked; like he owned the place. I had no idea who he was, although I had to have seen him before, we went to the same school. I don’t remember if he was gorgeous, or nice, or if he was a good dancer. I didn’t even officially “meet” him until a month later. Didn’t matter, I knew I was going to marry him.

In the mean time I kept casually dating the blind date guy. He was nice enough and I enjoyed his company. I’m going to be honest here, I don’t really remember what happened with him. The last I heard he was happily married and expecting a baby.

Not so casually, I started hanging out with The One and his group of friends. They were awesome. Some of my best memories from high school are of that group of people. We all just clicked.  After a few months of hanging out with Him and his friends, I’d noticed some things about Him. He was quiet and shy. Very much so. But he was genuine. And when the boy smiled, he took my breath away.

I remember the day when He first noticed me. Never being the shy type, I simply sat beside him, put my hand on his thigh and said “You don’t say much, do you?”

“No, not really”, he replied, not taking his eyes from the table. I don’t remember what else was said, but I know that I didn’t take my hand from his leg for quite some time.

More months came and went, and so did other boys. I didn’t mind dating before I got together with The One, and He dated too. It wasn’t our time yet.

Skip ahead to September 2001. It was time. I told everyone about my intentions. He kinda, sorta had a girlfriend, but come one, he was The One. I wasn’t going to let some little blond get in my way.

So we made it happen. We were finally together. I knew I was in love from the very beginning. He was too, he told me right away. We were always very open and honest with each other. We planned a shared future. The three month limit came and went, and we were deliriously happy.

I remember our first serious moment. He had been failing a class. He was so disappointed in himself and was terrified to tell his parents. We were sitting on a dock, and he cried. I listened, gave him my shoulder, and told him I’d help him tell his parents. Then I said something charming and made him smile. I knew from that moment on that making him smile was my life’s work.

And boy did I make him smile. I can’t remember a single bad thing about the beginning of our relationship. We thought that going to different colleges might have posed some challenges, but everything seemed to be working out just fine. That’s how it seemed, anyway. It’s amazing what hindsight does for perception. That whole time I thought I was happy. I was, for the most part, but I never noticed the changing.

Most young couples, especially when they go to separate schools, probably deal with jealousy. It’s one thing I never could stand, and the major reason why I had my three month rule prior to my relationship with Him. I wasn’t quite ready to give up my fun and flirty ways, so when He started to show a little jealousy 0ver my male friends in college, I stopped telling him about them. I never lied to him, or cheated on him, I just knew that he had trust issues, and rather than let him get upset over nothing, I left out details that would probably just upset him. He’d had a girlfriend cheat on him before, so I could understand his paranoia, so I tried to assuage his fears. I stopped dressing up for class, rarely did anything to my hair, stopped wearing make up, put on a little weight, all in a subconscious attempt to attract less male attention. It was hard to have a relationship mostly over the phone, but we made it work. We even got engaged on New Years Day 2003. I was so happy. Even if I did have to give up some of my partying ways. There’s always compromise in relationships, right?

After college, I moved to the Big City to be with Him. I got a good job, so did He. We moved in together, got a cat and a dog and started to settle into adulthood. I quickly made friends with my co-workers. He had a harder time. He had the same roommate all through college, and then they were co-workers after graduation. He kind of used this as an excuse not to make any other friends. No big deal, He’d always been on the shy side, so I made extra effort to include him in my social circle.

The problem was, he didn’t really like my friends. He thought I was too close to them. As I’ve said, I’m not a very private person, and I’m extremely affectionate. I can understand how someone like Him, who’s very guarded with his emotions, could have trouble with his fiance sharing herself a bit too freely with other people. So I tried to become more guarded too. I stopped throwing parties and having people over. It made Him uncomfortable anyway, and I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable in his own home.

We got married, decided to think about children and moved back to His hometown to be closer to our families. It was nice to be close to my parents again. It seemed that in my attempt to make Him more comfortable, I’d cut myself off from my Big City friends, and it was nice to be able to socialize without worrying about making Him jealous, even if it was with my parents. We fell into a comfortable pattern of work, house hunting and hanging out with my folks. I hated my job. That’s no understatement. It was lousy call center work, and I missed my Big City job. It was stressful too, but at least it was in my field. But, work was work, and it allowed us to live near family.

We got pregnant, bought a house and settled in to await the birth of our first child. I tried to meet up with some old friends from high school, but He was never really all that interested. All of a sudden He started to judge them. The people who were such good friends to us in high school were suddenly not good enough for him. They’d never gone to college, or they’d never made it out of the town, or they just weren’t in our “class”. He said I was free to see who I wanted, but that he wouldn’t go. Then he moped. Well, I hated to see him mope, and I didn’t really want to go out without him anyway, so I let it go.

Our son was born, and just over a year later, we had our daughter. I quit my hateful call center job and joyfully became a stay at home mom. I had taken up a photography hobby, and gradually started to make that a career. Life became very comfortable. We didn’t have to worry about finances, we had a good home, beautiful children and a marriage without conflict.

Somewhere in there I stopped sleeping. Well, that just wouldn’t do. I had long accepted that my job was to make sure the He was smiling. If I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t happy. If I wasn’t happy, He was miserable. So I started taking a couple of sleeping pills before bed. After a while, I needed three pills to sleep, then four, then five. If five wouldn’t put my out by two in the morning, I’d take a few more. Soon I needed them. Not only to sleep, but to function. Without them I would hit withdrawal, be useless to everyone, and I sure as hell couldn’t keep that smile on His face.

So, this is my existence. I’ve been living in a fog and not dealing with the stranger I’ve become. I don’t even recognize myself anymore.

Picture me at 17. I loved to party.

I was also a huge flirt.

I loved to make people feel good.

I had loads of friends.

No more parties, I have no one to party with. I don’t flirt anymore, I rarely leave the house. I still love to make people feel good, but I think I gave up on people and committed to only making Him feel good.

I had loads of friends. I have no friends. Not in real life anyway. Any and all social interaction I get is online.

Slowly but surely I have chipped away at everything that made me me. I don’t know who I am anymore, and I’m incredibly lonely. I crave human interaction and touch. I want to feel a connection to someone, anyone. I’ve lost myself. Everything about me that He fell in love with are now the things he hates. So, I’ve changed.

I want to make very clear that I don’t blame my husband for this. He has been dealing with his own mental health issues, and rather than helping him, I’ve been enabling him for ten years. At any point I could have put my foot down and remained true to myself. But I’m a people pleaser. I wanted Him to smile, and I could make that happen. But I’ve been doing it for a decade and I’m exhausted.

So, there you have it. It may not be the most romantic love story in the world, but it’s mine. And I do love him, more than he will ever know. I can’t fix him, though, and I’ve got to stop trying. I’ve got to start working on myself now. I may never be 17 again, but I need to get back a little of me. Writing it all down is a good start. I’m also seeing a therapist, and so is my husband.

I look forward to sharing this journey with you all.

Terrell Owens, the former NFL star receiver, who has signed to play for and co-own the Allen Rangers, in the Indoor League, is friendless and nearly broke, he told GQ magazine. “I’m in hell,” Owens, 38, said he tells people who ask about his well-being.

After the Cincinnati Bengals did not renew his one-year, $2 million contract last year, Owens has been suffering from his financial shortcomings, including ventures gone bad and child support for his four children, he said.

The $80 million or so he had made in his career is almost gone, he said, but not because he lived a lavish lifestyle.

In GQ’s February issue, Owens said his financial advisers lured him into risky investments such as an Alabama entertainment complex that cost him $2 million. He later learned the venture was illegal in the state and violated the NFL’s policy of prohibiting players from investing in gambling, he said.

Owens is attempting to sell the numerous homes he bought prior to the housing crisis, however most of the houses he purchased are no longer worth what he paid for just a few years ago. He is currently paying as much as $750,000 per year in mortgages.

Owens also pays $44,600 a month in child support for his four children, ages 5 to 12, with four different women, according to GQ.

The football player laments about losing trust in people and friends. When people text and ask where he is, he answers, “I’m in hell.”

“I don’t have no friends,” he told GQ. ”I don’t want no friends. That’s how I feel.”

In the GQ article, Owens blames the media for not giving him a chance to rehab his injury and blames agent Drew Rosenhaus for not protecting him from a bad business arrangement.

The problem, he says, is that he’s by nature too trusting, loyal to a fault, and that he let other people “take care of things.”

“I hate myself for letting this happen,” Owens told GQ. “I believed that they had my back when they said, ‘You take care of the football, and we’ll do the rest.’ And in the end, they just basically stole from me.”

Owens has also found himself friendless, thanks to a growing sense of distrust thanks to his many unfortunate dealings.

He never had many friends – teammates never called him to party, he says, wrongly assuming that he was “too big” to socialize – and now, “I don’t have no friends. I don’t want no friends. That’s how I feel.”

“If there’s anything I’m sorry about, it’s getting involved with all that.” He never actually dated any of the women, he says. One was a one-night stand, the others “repeat offenders.” Owens, who has never been married, concedes he is “not a very good judge of character.” Still, he “never suspected they were the types to do what they done in the past year.”

When money became an issue, Owens had to reduce the amount he paid to each of the women, and three of them sued him. A warrant was issued for his arrest when he didn’t show up for a court date with the mother of his oldest child.

Owens is now in court with all four women. None of them are being fair, he says: “They know I’m not working; they know the deal.” Although he never established regular visitation with any of the children through the courts, he says he sees the eldest three as much as he can when their mothers allow it. So bitter is his relationship with the mother of the youngest child, a son, that he has never met the boy.

Owens’ career is defined as much by its theatrics than for its statistical body of work. Some decisions, he admits, may have been handled differently now. But at this point of his life, he’s not willing to look back.

“To say I regret anything would be a slap to my grandmother’s face,” Owens says, referring to the woman who raised him.

Owens remains confident bordering on cocksure, convinced – even with a medically repaired ACL – that he is capable of the spectacular playmaking ability of his youth. It’s not his talent that keeps teams from calling, he insists, but instead a reputation cast onto him by the reporters he often held hostage.

“I think people change, but the media, they never allowed me to change,” Owens says. “They never allowed me to be a better person.”

Owens says he’s never been diagnosed as clinically depressed but he’s been “real down.”

even if he didn’t want to meet my genitals (afterall I’m still a fat girl) or touch my boobies we should have been able to talk, exchange thoughts, bitterness and mirth.

I absolutely don’t get it all.  why doesn’t he speak?!

There should have been at least a one-time “Hi.”

i’ve longed for a human (a male) to talk to since i moved home in 2002.

so very close and yet so far

i wonder how many years will it be.

but i must always keep in mind that once i’ve lost weight, i willl be on my guard.  if he speaks once i’ve noticably lost weight, i will be wildly insulted because it will be so fucking transparent WHY he is now speaking to me. 

in the name of self-preservation I will let HIM know why he’s speaking to me even if the reason buried in hislong forgotten sub-consciousness.

G-damn it.  I am a colorful person and i deserve to have  a boy to talk to.

So fucking what? Eat shit.  No-one should care about this.  What?  You think you’re better than me because your phone is pink and mine is ordinary black?  Ignore the fact that the shitty little thing you call a mobile phone can’t browse the internet because the screen is so small, unable to do email or anything else that matters.  No.  Your phone is better because it is a different colour.  Well my phone can browse the internet, email, emulate different retro games consoles, can control my home pc when I’m nowhere near it and a bunch of other shit that now has you looking at me like a shit chucking ape because you’re too stupid to comprehend.  My phone is better.  I win.

Your kill-to-death ratio on Call of Duty.   SNORE.  I used to play this game online because I thought it involved a little more than running around, shooting people.  I thought that it involved at least some kind of brain power in (at least) basic military tactics, but alas, no.  All it boils down to is killing more than you die.  The game is full of 10 year olds that only play to exploit glitches.  The game then becomes unplayable because they’re calling in chopper gunners, harrier strikes, pave-lows, sentry guns, missiles and fuck knows what else.  They’ll ends up bragging to their mates that they finished one game with a 39 – 1 K/D ratio.  In what game mode?  Capture the flag?  How many flags did you capture? What was that?  SPEAK UP!  None?  YOU SUCK!  If you have to cheat at a game, chances are you’re fucking garbage at it.  Play something else loser.

Speaking of online gaming, your gaming tag, regardless of how clever you think it is, is of no interest either.  What is more annoying are the following types of gamertags:

1. DJ [enter random shitty name] – So what if you are a DJ?  What that means to me is you are a failed musician.  You take credit for sample sounds that no doubt someone else created, put an unimaginative generic beat in the background and call it music.  This is almost too easy.  Next……….

2. Some contraction of weed/pot/ganj – These are the types of people that put their clan tag as THC.  NEWS FLASH!  No-one thinks you are cool for smoking weed.  In fact, I have just found your email address through your profile and forwarded onto the law.  Expect a call from the police soon you moron.

3.  The girlfriend/boyfriend combo -  MikeandKim, for example.  Why are you allowing your girlfriend to share your games console?  Hell, my wife can’t even use the analogue sticks simultaneously.  Mind you, we don’t keep a tv in the kitchen so it’s not like she’ll get practice anyway.  Go into your girlfriends purse and get your balls back and stop her from using your console for fuck sake.

More inconsequential bullshit is people that claim to know a celebrity.  ‘Name droppers’.  These are the types of people that frequently mention they know someone famous, almost as an excuse to subsidise for their lack of personality.  Really, no-one should be allowed to be this boring.  People as uninteresting as this should be put down.  If I had my way, people like this would be executed by several smacks to the face using a standard garden shovel.  Why do we need to know that you know someone famous?  The top and bottom of it all is that people will only pretend to like you in the hopes that you’ll one day introduce them to your famous ‘friend’.  What a shallow existence.  Maybe you should have concentrated on being less of an uncharismatic douchebag and focused more at not sucking in life then maybe you wouldn’t have lost your true friends.  Just kidding.  You had no friends anyway.

WHAT A CHARACTER! What a visionary John the Baptist appears to have been. “Skinny as a cactus” as Barbara Brown Taylor has it, and ready to stand before all-comers to present them with a haunting hunch. No. He was not the Christ. No. Not the greatest amongst the prophets, past or present. No. Not the light that was to come into the world. No. He didn’t know his name. Yes. He understood that most people had heard more messianic / apocalyptic preachers than they’d had hot dinners. No. He wouldn’t be able to hold a candle to the one who’s absolutely going to be raised up, “one who stands among you”. It’s a hunch. A haunting hunch. Not much detail yet. But an absolute assurance that what’s needed in this world, the real and radical hope for the friendless, the unheard, the dispossessed (of whom, in our time too, Archbishop Rowan has been writing in the Advent wilderness this week) – is repentance. Not a nauseating or ingratiating or formulaic “Father, forgive me for I have sinned” but repentance. Turning around. Looking at life, and at love, and the way we live, and the way we love, in a new way. John the Baptist had a prophetic hunch that what was going to be required, in future, of every anointed man, woman and child upon the face of the earth was a willingness to “walk the walk” as well, if not better, than they “talk the talk”. And people like you and me were prepared to put life and limb at great risk to go out there into the wilderness to hear that! John the Baptist wasn’t the only guy with a hunch, was he? We’ve a pretty strong sense too that what we need in our broken world is a good dunking in the Jordan. Fresh, cold water. Rise and shine. Smell the coffee. The wilderness is about to break into flower. Which wilderness? Where? Yours. In your heart, for a start. What a character! What a visionary. Who? Ah, come on! YOU …

And it’s snowing on WordPresss? This is so weird…It seriously started snowing on my screen as I was writing this…

Oh, I am mad at Facebook. Not the whole thing, I don’t care about all the changes and whatever. Just the Sims. Oh how I love Sims. And they are messing up my whole deal. Somehow 3 of my golden coins disappeared, and I have been trying really hard to save those! Today I should have gotten 10 more so I could get the pink hair I have been working towards!

So poo on them!

^If you feel this way then you shouldn’t be with them. Only be with people who you feel you can be yourself with no matter what because you’re worth it. If they don’t accept you as you are then too bad for them…