The Path

This came up in my Facebook memories and hit me super hard. I walked the stage with a nearly perfect GPA and top honors. But here I sit 2 years later with too much brain damage to attempt grad school. Grad school being why I needed perfect grades.

I was dying. I didn’t know it was cancer, but I was very much dying and I knew that. I couldn’t get anyone to listen to me, but I knew. And yet I forced perfection on myself. I asked for extensions instead of just skipping the occasional assignment. I studied while in the hospital. I wrote final papers right after surgery while on opioids.

I pushed and I pushed myself to perfection. Nearly killed myself striving for perfection. All so I could have a perfect GPA so I could get into the grad program of my choice.

And now? I can tell the difference. How smart I used to be, versus where I’m at now. Yes, I’m still intelligent. But not like I was. I can feel the difference and I can tell I’m no longer cut out for grad school. I was already going to be struggling because of Autism and ADHD. But brain damage to?

I am so angry. But I’m mostly sad that I put so much importance on my grades. C’s get degrees but I nearly died achieving perfection.

My path looks different now. I spent all of therapy coming to terms with all of the above and all of the below.

My best friend is Marissa. Granted, we don’t call her that. We call her Coffee. I’ll continue to call her Coffee on these pages. But her name is Marissa. I think it’s good to attach a real name to her existence now and then.

We’ve been best friends for a few years at this point. It all started with her sending me photos of the various animals in her life on Tumblr on a bad night and then before I knew it was had a friendship unlike any I’ve ever experienced. I’ve blogged about best friends before. If you’ve been here you know those usually blew up in my face. There was the ableist girl from high school. Tried to steal not just my spouse but my kids too last time Robin and I separated. There was Nate who was emotionally constipated and forbid me to have any emotions around him ever.

Coffee. I don’t have words. We have faced a lot of the same struggles, though there are plenty of differences. She is strong where I’m weak, and vice versa. I can honestly say that while it’s strictly platonic and nonsexual, I am absolutely in love with her. She is my person. She is one of my chosen sisters and I would do anything for her and know she would do anything for me. She’s held my hand through the process of nearly dying, losing my wife, and just every low moment of the past few years. She’s not afraid of my emotions and low points. And she approaches my BPD with common sense, compassion, and basic human decency. She’s also not afraid to call me out if I need to examine and rethink my behavior. She’ll enable me buying a children’s fishing pole to go “cat fishing”. But she won’t enable me treating people like shit. She makes me want to be a better person and helps me dig deep to find who that better person within me is.

And everything that she does for me, I strive to do for her in kind.

She is more than I could ever have hoped for in a friend.

And together we have built two really solid and healthy friend groups, with some overlap. A found family full of love, acceptance, neurodivergence, and queerness. My life is so full of love these days, but I found this chosen family with Coffee by my side. And through her love and guidance, I became a person worthy of their love. I do a lot of hard work. It wasn’t all Coffee. But she offered solid support and feedback.

There is a point to this.

Coffee is going to school to get a degree in running an agricultural-based business. The plan is, she and her husband Pete will buy some land in probably Kansas and they will run a lavender farm. In 10 years when my babies are all grown and out of the nest, I’m following them to Kansas and I’m buying a house as near theirs as I can and I’ll help them run their farm. Coffee will make sure I have a thriving wage and health insurance. I’ll also do what I do now, caregiving, on the side to help add enrichment to my life.

My path is no longer taking me to grad school at OSU and a PsyD that I’d use to diagnose especially women with Autism and ADHD. But that’s OK. Because my path is now taking me to Coffee, and her little family, and that’s even better.

Friendship

My memory is poor, so I don’t really have many fond memories of my ex best friend from high school. I remember when Luke was like 2yo, taking the boys to the zoo and pulling them around in the wagon I bought for that exact purpose. Only, that trip I guess Thomas mostly walked since he would have been around 6. And Lucas spread himself out in the wagon and passed the fuck out. He napped for a solid 2 hours or so in that wagon while we pulled him around the zoo.

I remember this because I just took the littles to the zoo. It finally opened back up this weekend for members only. You have to make reservations in advance since they are only letting so many people in at a time, but I made them well in advance. So I’ve been reflecting on the many happy zoo memories.

Another clear memory of her is her blatant ableism. Like how she refused to be seen with me in public in February with me wearing flip flops. Even though at that moment I literally could not wear any other shoes. I did not hang out with her that day and have actually not spoken to her since.

I guess that made her mad?

Because a few years later she tried to steal my then husband (now wife) and my kids from me. She always did covet the family I had. So the minute my relationship went south, she swooped in. I don’t blame Robin from sleeping with her. We were separated and she’s always had a crush on her. But she had no interest in being casual. She was in it for the family. And when Robin and I got back together she was furious. Which says a lot about her since she’s Catholic and doesn’t believe in divorce. Usually.

I’ve had an attempt at a best friend between now and then in Clyde. But he was toxic and I got out when that became apparent. We’ve been in and out of casual contact since. But nothing lasting. What can I say, we met in a joint class. We were teammates on a group project. The first that degree ever gave me. We then, a few years later, ran into each other in a different class. I think if I ran into him again, we could be civil. Stand and chat. Or email for a few days. But it wouldn’t be anything deep or lasting. That friendship was too toxic.

I’ve had a few toxic friendships. Hell, at times my relationship with Robin is toxic. This isn’t some huge revelation. It’s common knowledge we’ve been separated twice.

BPD makes it hard to maintain relationships.

Being neurodivergent makes starting relationships hard.

Also, I don’t see myself as worth much, so I don’t immediately bulk at being treated poorly.

Isolation Part 4

BPD and the Broken HeartYou know what? No! I’m not so desperate that I need to campaign for a friend, which is basically what I feel like I’ve been doing for the past week. I am a kind, caring, compassionate, empathetic, loyal friend that will do literally anything for those I care about. If he has to think that over, then well, clearly he isn’t paying attention and isn’t worth my tears.

There have been a lot of tears.

He couldn’t have handled them anyway.

And now I’m down to, well, I will always have the lesbians. And a crippling amount of anxiety and introvertedness that will probably keep things that way for a long time to come.

Isolation

To Be Continued

Isolation Part 3

hope love and Borderline personality disorder (BPD)

Part 1

Part 2

Remember that best friend I made and then lost around the time Pat and I blew up the second time? I’m calling him Clyde to respect his need for privacy. We’re back in contact. It’d been a full week even of texting back and forward. (This was the same week of the good-bye to my almost lover, actually.) I put on the table that I wanted to be friends again. A fresh start. He’s thinking about it. I guess we’ll see what he says.

I know in my heart that I haven’t been the same since he swept in, and then exploded out of my life. He was the perfect best friend and now there is this bestfriend shaped hole in my heart, in my world, where only Clyde really fits. I can honestly say I love him to death. Not romantic love, he isn’t my almost lover. No one could replace my almost lover, but no one could ever replace Clyde either.

I’m also going to be honest and say that if we become friends again, I think it’s inevitable that we’ll sleep together. First I doubt that chemistry will disappear just because time passed. Also, for me, I’m… Once I connect with someone mentally and emotionally, like I have with Clyde, it’s only natural to me to sleep with them. That’s one reason my marriage is open to begin with. Mind you, this doesn’t happen for me with many people. I can still count on one hand the number of people I’ve slept with in my life, but Clyde… with him I’m not asexual. Never have been and I doubt I ever will be. I’ve never really learned how to tame down lust as I so rarely feel it. So yes, it’s inevitable I’ll sleep with Clyde if he’ll take me back as a friend. But he’ll be my best friend and while it may not be romantic, I do love him to death, so it’s ok.

To Be Continued

With All Due Respect

Borderline Personality Disorder and FriendshipI’m coming to a point in my life where no matter how desperate for friendship I may be, I don’t have time or room in my life for bullshit. I don’t have time to worry over and miss someone who claims to want me in their life, but can’t be bothered to make time for me. If you can’t even bother with an occasional text message, then I need to move on. I don’t care how deeply I care for this person or they supposedly care for me.

I don’t have time to worry over a casual friend that has to complicate every transaction. We could be great friends under certain conditions but conditions are starting to sound like work and there is only one condition that should really matter and that’s the one they draw the line at. Aka rules for a friendship are bullshit other than needed boundaries. I set up a boundary, however, and suddenly I’m complicating things. Uh uh. I don’t have time for these games.

This last one, however, is hard.  This person really got me and I could talk to them for hours during the lonely hours at night.  Then they made a couple of posts that were kind of racists.

Now, stepping back a second, here is a little clue about me: I’m all about tolerance.  I view all people on this earth as fully equal no matter gender, race, sexuality, religion, age, or anything else.  The only thing I’m not tolerant of, is other people’s lack of tolerance based on these thing.  Aka I don’t have patience with homophobes, racists, or sexism.  The only thing that effect equality from one person to the next are personal actions.

Meaning:

Very recently someone I would consider to be a terrorist went into a church filled with black people, listened to the sermon for a while, and then opened fire killing many.  That terrorist gave up his freedom to have certain rights and those black people are now unquestionably better than him.  Not because they are black, but because of his actions.

I think this is fair.

Now, this friend posted a couple semi racists things.  Or, more accurately, she liked and commented on them and they showed up in my feed.  I was highly uncomfortable with it, but as she hadn’t until that point otherwise shown signs of intolerance, I wasn’t sure what to do.  I suppose I could have let it go, but that thought gave me a bad feeling in my belly.  So I decided to come out and ask her about it.  My aim wasn’t to accuse, but instead to test the waters and see how she really felt.

The thing of it is, I’m not exactly good at beating around the bush and tend to be rather blunt.  So while I didn’t come out and call her racist, at first, I did come out and ask her how she really felt.  I learned, and then I called her racist.

She needless to say was not thrilled with this assessment, which I can’t honestly blame her, and I walked away from the conversation to better assess how I felt.  The two primary questions being, can I respect someone who is racist, and can I be friends with someone I don’t respect?  Then she openly attacked me via messenger.  One simple line that burned through to my soul.

I have not spoken to her since, but I did receive and email a day or two later.

It opened with an attack on my mental health (aka my black and white thinking).  Then it went on to what could be considered a well constructed apology.  Or at least to start with.  It was essentially the I’m not racist because I have a black friend argument, but a lot more in-depth and respectable.  I easily could have read that, understood where she was coming from, and regained some respect for her.

Then she ended the email with this: “You really don’t even deserve an explanation.”

Well ok then.  You no longer deserve to be my friend.

I know I don’t have much to offer, but… wow.

With all due respect, I’d rather be alone than surrounded by those that cause me pain.  A hard lesson I’ve had to learn over the years.  I’m not perfect but I try really hard at being a good friend, and I deserve someone who recognizes that, respects that, and puts equal effort into it.

30 Days of the Truth: Day 3

I stole this from here. I’m not going to be able to strictly follow their schedule. I already missed the first few days and they are off schedule themselves, for that matter. But I like the idea so I’m going to give it a go.

The idea is that every Monday and Wednesday, though I already have a regular post Wednesdays so we’ll say Friday, you go through the topics and post the truth about yourself. So here we go.

Day 01 → Something you hate about yourself.
Day 02 → Something you love about yourself.
Day 03 → Something you have to forgive yourself for.
Day 04 → Something you have to forgive someone for.
Day 05 → Something you hope to do in your life.
Day 06 → Something you hope you never have to do.
Day 07 → Someone who has made your life worth living for.
Day 08 → Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit.
Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.
Day 10 → Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.
Day 11 → Something people seem to compliment you the most on.
Day 12 → Something you never get compliments on.
Day 13 → A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough ass days. (write a letter.)
Day 14 → A hero that has let you down. (letter)
Day 15 → Something or someone you couldn’t live without, because you’ve tried living without it.
Day 16 → Someone or something you definitely could live without.
Day 17 → A book you’ve read that changed your views on something.
Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.
Day 19 → What do you think of religion? Or what do you think of politics?
Day 20 → Your views on drugs and alcohol.
Day 21 → (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two got into a fight an hour before. What do you do?
Day 22 → Something you wish you hadn’t done in your life.
Day 23 → Something you wish you had done in your life.
Day 24 → Make a playlist to someone, and explain why you chose all the songs. (Just post the titles and artists and letter)
Day 25 → The reason you believe you’re still alive today.
Day 26 → Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
Day 27 → What’s the best thing going for you right now?
Day 28 → What if you were pregnant or got someone pregnant, what would you do?
Day 29 → Something you hope to change about yourself. And why.
Day 30 → A letter to yourself, tell yourself EVERYTHING you love about yourself

This is a hard one for me because I don’t believe in regrets. I instead choose to learn from everything.

My first impulse here was to say the Andrew thing. Most of you are going “huh? what Andrew thing?” and well, we are leaving it like that. I’m not rehashing the whole thing here and now. I went over it once before in this blog. If curiosity is getting the best of you, go search for it. It’s near the beginning. And that’s all the attention I’m going to give to that topic.

I’m not going with my first impulse. The second impulse is not going to college when I had the time and the money. Instead, I got married and had kids. And I love my family. Very much. But I would be better able to support the family if I had finished school.

I forgive myself because I didn’t know what I wanted to be back then. Fuck, I still don’t. I most recently wanted to go to school for photography, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that photography won’t pay the bills. So I’m going to come up with a plan d and move on to it.

When time and money permits.