Pat Archive

The Walking the Borderline Weekender

Posted March 21, 2015 By kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder Blog BPDI don’t know who taught my daughter the “Don’t step on a crack” game, but she’s convinced if she steps on a crack, she’s going to break my heart. So… That’s heartbreakingly adorable. I’m guessing she landed on a crack.

This week in my store:

Are you

 

Speaking of my store, you can find a link to the WTBL new items up amount the top.  It’ll take you here.  I actually own the pink shirt.  No joke, I love it!  All items in the WTBL store are great ways to support the blog.

I didn’t write anywhere else recently.  I’ve been too busy working on my book.  I’m about 10,000 words in, and damn proud.  I was going to print 4 mini memoirs, but I think I’ve decided that is stupid.  I’m not sure yet.  I’ll let you all know when anything gets published though, of course.

In closing, I’m introducing a quote of the week

Pat: Can I kiss your belly?
Sambam: No!
Pat: Can I kiss your foot?
Sambam: No!
Pat: Where can I kiss?
Sambam: Nowhere!
Pat: Why?!?
Sambam: I’m dang-ger-e-ous!

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When Sexualities Collide

Posted March 11, 2015 By kmarrs

Sexuality and BPD and marriageThere is of course a downside to the match made in the stars, that is Pat and I.  Can you guess it?  Ah yes.  I’m asexual and he is not.

Now, to be fair to me I am Asexual-grey so I do feel a sexual attraction to my husband, but my sex drive itself is hit and miss.  More than he’d prefer, that’s for sure.  I can’t blame him.  He is a fully functioning sexual being.  There is nothing wrong with being asexual, but it can complicate romantic relationships where the other person isn’t also asexual.

So, he works on patience with me and learns what can trigger my sexual appetite.  Not to take advantage of me, but to broach the subject.  He has always taken no for an answer.  Always.  Him trying to tempt me is never abusive nor nearing anything that could hint at rape.  However, he also knows that a 20$ or even a 10$ handed to me to go treat myself to books usually makes me very thankful.  I mean, if you’re going to buy my affections, books is the only way to do so.  Or maybe shoes.  But no.  Pat is the only one that can pull off that trick without receiving a throat punch.

In addition, I work on evaluating my situation.  Am I horny?  Yes?  Have sex.  No?  Ok, well does the thought repulse me?  Yes?  Don’t have sex.  No?  Consider having sex.  I don’t have to be OMG IN THE MOOD to be willing to show physical affection to my husband.  I just have to be willing to show physical affection.  In a sexual way.  There are various degrees of compromise; and sometimes we start and I’m just not into it, can’t get into it, so we stop.

But if he is willing to be patient, I’m willing to try for sexual more often.  I don’t find it degrading or him being disrespectful.  If he refused to acknowledge my lack of sexuality or pressured me into it when I’ve said no, that would be an insult.  This isn’t even me caving to my wifely duty.  This is me loving my husband.  And sometimes I agree to love him physically even if I think I’d be ok never having sex again.  When it comes down to it, well, if nothing else, it’s great exercise, and it’s safe as we’re both clean, can’t get pregnant, and in love.

That doesn’t mean it isn’t frustrating for him at times that I can’t keep up with his desires.

For the record, this is one reason I suggested (didn’t agree to but suggested) an open marriage.  Granted, he only has one woman at this time he’d consider being with aside from me, and she isn’t local.  Should he meet someone local, we’ll reassess.  Mostly because I’d need to trust her and her intentions with my husband.  His unicorn, as we call our outside of the marriage loves, would never ever hurt me in being with him.  So I can trust them both fully, and this is essential.

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Sexuality marriage and BPDI, for so many years, have known my husband and me to be a complicated mix of male/female with neither one of us fully subscribing to our assigned gender. It’s one of the reasons I’ve always gone back to him when I’ve left: I know no one else can complete me like he does.

With the post on my sexuality still pending, I had him read it and then asked him to expand upon what he thought his gender alignment to be. After a long talk it came to the agreed up conclusion that the old joke that “he is a lesbian trapped in a man’s body”, was not far from the truth.

You see, he really is at this point transgender. He was assigned male at birth, but relates more to the female gender. He’s not going to bother with a sex change, though, because he’s never seen a point, and he has a wife who is happy to let him be his inner woman. His sex organs are what they are, and as for “he/him” as his pronouns, he’s too lazy to bother caring or try to get us to change it.  Also, he doesn’t consider it insulting.  Never the less, he doesn’t really like being called a man, but he keeps that battle inside, and is glad “Pat” is so androgynous.

Should he have gone through the change, he would for sure be a lesbian. And no, that does not just make him a straight man. True gender is in the heart, not the parts.

Meanwhile there is me who doesn’t really feel like a woman, but doesn’t really feel like a man either. I’m not agender.  I’m just me; a mostly woman with definite girl parts, but both male and female feelings and character traits. I’m just me; a panromantic, asexual, demi-girl, and I love my lover no matter the parts or pronouns.  Because Pat completes and complements my gender in a way no one else could.  We were able to give each other children.  He is strong where I’m weak.  I’m strong where he’s weak.  Put us together and we are whole and one in a million.

For any number of things could have preventing us from meeting at that LARP game that Friday night. Instead, the stars aligned, the heavens took over, we met, we became friends, we feel in love, and we became what each other needed in a lover.

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Borderline Personality Disorder BPD and emotions

This story was written a week ago and scheduled for today.  The moon in question is what Pat calls a “Valentine moon” and he’s been watching for it for a long time.  Now on to our story.

Pat called me while out to tell me to look at the moon: big, low, full, white, and beautiful.  I went out to look and was taken away by it, but was also in awe how clear the sky is tonight.  As we have little light pollution, we can really see the sky out here.

I immediately gathered the kids, including Sammy who I wrapped in a blanket, and took them out to see it all.  Sammy is always asking me to show her the stars, but it’s almost always too cloudy, so I basically rose the boys on my way to my daughter.

Once we were out there, she loved it all but it was Lucas who piped up with new-found knowledge.  He admired the moon, then immediately pointed out Orion, complaining he couldn’t see the sword.  Then I turned around and pointed over the carport and sure enough, he immediately recognized one of the two dippers.  We couldn’t see enough to know which one.

Coming back in I set Sammy down so she could go back to bed and she pulled my attention square on her and thanked me for showing her the stars. (I’m honestly starting to tear up here.) And I got down on her level, wrapped her in my arms, and told her that, that was “what life was about”. And it is.  If you aren’t waking your kids to show them the view like what we had tonight, you’re doing it wrong.  I don’t care what time it is and if it’s a school night.  Wasting the view we had would have been a waste of a life.

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Hear My Plea

Posted August 29, 2014 By kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder and financesWe officially have the keys to our first house. It’s rented, but it’s magic. I have wanted a house for the kids for over a decade now. And this house… It’s a 4 bedroom ranch with two bathrooms. Finally enough room that we aren’t tripping over each other just to move around. (We’ve been in a 5 bedroom for the past 6 years. The 5 of us.) The backyard could be classified a park it’s so big and it’s on a non-active air force base. We’re in the old base housing. We actually got an officer’s house. And we’re a 5 minute walk from the airport itself, right down from where they park the Apaches. My boys think they’ve died and gone to heaven. Even the most hesitant of them, Lucas who has only ever know this house and is timid and sensitive, is in heaven. Sambam is just in aw. It’s like she’s been left alone in a candy/toy store. Her favorite part is her closet, she insists she’s going to sleep there. I share the sentiment, it’s been a long time since my clothes haven’t hung from a pipe in the basement. I asked Thomas what the best part about leaving this house was and he waved his arms around to indicate all of it. It’s taken us over 11 years, but Pat and I have finally been able to give our kids what we’ve always wanted for them. I don’t even care it’s rented; that means if shit breaks, someone else has to fix it. The neighborhood is safe, the schools are great, I want to die of old age in this house! We can rent to own so that might damn well happen!

Here is this problem: This very first month, with the costs of moving, and some new financial sources not yet kicking in, we are in the biggest financial pickle we have ever been in. I am asking, hoping, wishing that those who might be able, to kick a buck or two or whatever you can our way. We are desperate. This money wouldn’t be covering shit and giggles, but the essentials of life. If you can help, please visit the donation button to the left which will go straight to my paypal. It’s always been there as a thank you for running this site, and as a little extra something which people have very kindly occasionally offered. But now, I really need it there. If you can’t give, please know we understand and love you all the same. We accept happy thoughts, crossed fingers, and blessing of good luck on this next stage in our family adventure, just as gratefully. There is also the option of sharing this cry for help with those you know? Only if you are comfortable with it. But sometimes, just sometimes, magic happens. And we really could use just a little more. (I’m not lying, this house is pretty magical.)

Photos you ask?

Bpd and home

The front of the house, which needs some work but we’re happy to. Thrilled to!

Bpd and home

The back yard! I assure you: Sambam and I have already twirled barefoot in that grass. Skirts swirling, heads dizzy, hearts, glowing, mouths laughing.

Borderline Personality Disorder and finances

Ah there she is, exploring our first ever covered parking. We’ll finally be able to keep the kid’s bikes at our place, chained to those pillars. But the neighborhood is perfect for afternoon bike rides.

I truly love you all who come here. Please know that. And I thank you all for every visit. For every comment ever left. And for any outcome from this post.

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A Tisket A Tasket

Posted January 16, 2014 By kmarrs

BPD dissociative DisorderSchool is going.  I’m doing quite well, but the classes I’m taking are college writing and Math.  So they were going to go well. Should help pad my GPA for when the going gets tough.  I did realize, much to my delight, that now that I’m full-time I’m eligible for the Dean’s List.  I look forward to my placement this trimester.  You hear confidence because there is no reason I won’t.

I enjoy my Math class being in an actual classroom.  I think I might make a point of one in-class a trimester.  It gets me out of the house in a healthy setting and fashion.  I’m in a place where I’m looking to meet people for various reasons.  Don’t look at me like that, I don’t sleep with every hand I shake.  Not even a notable fraction.

Speaking of… I’ve been on a few first and follow-up dates.  I’ve been stood up a few times.  I had one guy who looked promising end up not being promising.  That sucked.  Though the fashion in which that spiraled out, his loss.  I just recently had another first date also promising with a second date on the horizon.  I still maintain I’m looking for a best friend first and foremost.  The rest is just what it is or isn’t.

Speaking of best friends there is someone a true best friend whom has been there for me as long as I’ve known him and he is so exactly perfect in what I need and what I’m looking for.  But it isn’t to be.  At least I still have that friendship and he is the standard I will hold every other guy on the planet to.  But sometimes… I really wish he could be.  I know I see him as a white knight but in over 2 years and countless tests I’ve never been presented with a hint of a reason not to.  Even Pat supports this friendship though the depths of it are mine and mine alone.  I assume Pat knows I have feeling there.  I don’t have to discuss it with him.  Pat knows my heart.  But even without official discussion, Pat, if he should read this, is nodding along in agreement.  He knows how deeply I care for this person.  And he knows this person is good for me.  And he supports this friendship like he supports me breathing oxygen.  I write this in fear that the other person could someday read this and question if I can be trusted.  I write this knowing trust would never be betrayed.  I write this knowing I wish he would read it and find support where I’m willing to bet he never suspected.  I can’t know for sure but it’s a safe assumption.  I know my husband and my husband knows me.  I am great with secrets but Pat is great with me.

So I dally on with first dates, last dates.  First kisses, last kisses.  Being stood up, and losing hours to unexpected conversation.  Comparing them all to the one who won’t be.

And I’m happy with Pat.  I know the past decade has been rocky, but this feels right.  Not because I get to fuck around, because I’m not, but because this brings me a spark to Pat.  If anything, in my quest to show Pat he is my number one man, I’m looking for new and exciting ways to show him my affections.  In his quest to remind me what I have in him, he’s being the man I always wanted but never realized I had.  He would be doing this anyway, I would be doing this anyway, but this element of the open marriage keeps that spark lit as we are on our toes to never forget the partner that really matters.

We’ve been to the art museum twice, once with the 10-year-old.  He took me to see The Princess Bride on the big screen.  The local theater showed it one showing only.  We giggled together in advance of the scenes we knew were coming.  We spoke along in parts, not the only one in a theater full of fans to do so.  We are going to an art gallery for Valentine’s day.  I have the most romantic thing I’ll ever pull off, planned for late valentines, early anniversary.  I’m excited to romance Pat and be romanced by Pat.

And yes, I’m excited to be in the dating world, even when it has me not wanting to leave my bed from time to time because I got dumped in the most childish way ever.  But I’m out there having fun.  And I don’t mean *nudge nudge wink wink* fun.  I mean the fun of getting out there and meeting people and just leaving the damn house, fun.

Feeling desired and attractive and young and vibrant helps too.  This helps my self-confidence more than it hurts it.  I can’t take getting stood up too personally.  But I’m actually starting to learn I might actually be kind of not ugly.

And that’s been 30 years in coming.

So if you want to know what I’ve been up to in the new year, I’d have to say the answer is reading, studies, and dates.  Good and bad.

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