Virtual Affair?

For the past several months, I've found my husband... uninteresting. I love him. He is good to me. He takes care of our daughter incredibly well. He's been giving me lots of time to sleep, and didn't raise too many objections about putting our daughter in daycare. I think that as the pregnancy progresses, he's seeing more and more why it is actually better for her to be outside of the house during the day. Pregnancy puts a lot of strain on my system and tends to make me depressed and tired.

One of my escapes has always been fantasizing. I have some pretty kooky fantasies, probably related to some of my early experiences. Lately, though, I've been finding them very distasteful. So instead, I've turned to thinking about past relationships. Most of my past relationships were pretty messed up, but a few of the men I dated were actual good guys.

A few months ago, I went on a jag where I was completely obsessed with one of them, and I thought about him constantly. I finally called him one night. I went outside and sat under a bridge and cried to him for a while on the phone. After about thirty minutes of talking, he told me that he'd gotten married. I went on facebook and found his wife's page, looked at his wedding pictures, and that pretty much cleared my system.

Then I started fixating on another one. Joel is a man I dated when I was 18, when I was still a virgin, and when I still thought that virginity made a difference in life. He gave me every sign that he wanted to "do more" and I didn't even take the hints.

Instead, I tried to mold him, both in my mind and in reality, into the kid of man I would want to bring home and marry. He was 20 and not at all thinking of marriage, nor of the kind of religious values I had. Eventually, I gave him a gift that symbolized exactly that, and he looked at me sadly, and told me that it wasn't going to work. He cuddled me, kissed me, and told me he was sorry.

Less than 2 weeks later, something happened that changed me. I was out on a date, and despite repeated protests, the man hurt me. I really regret that Joel wasn't my first. I know that's kind of silly, but I feel that way. I've played out all the different scenarios of how I could have been with him, how I could be with him now. I found out where he lives a few years back- he's left the country, and I made contact with him. He clearly hasn't been thinking of me for the past 10+ years, and was only polite in his response to me.

I should be grateful. It's not like I could be with him even if he were interested. It's not like I would leave my husband and kid for someone I had a really nice month with forever ago.

Somehow I'm really bugged by the fact that he won't correspond with me (and feed my stupid fantasy.)

It's amazing how often I think of him... There are a lot of songs that remind me of him.
So here... songs that make me think of you:

Dire Straits - Romeo and Juliet (Anyway, whatcha gonna do about it?)
Monty Python's The Life of Brian - Always Look on the Bright Side of Life (life's a piece of shit, when you look at it)
Tracey Chapman - Baby, Can I Hold You Tonight?
Deep Blue Something - Breakfast at Tiffany's

Okay. It's written. Maybe now it'll be over?

Back From a Long Absence

I haven't been depressed enough to need to blog here in a while, but my friend Kira wins the prize.

Kira moved to the area about a year ago, and I've been doing my best to help her out with a variety of things. She & her husband have fertility issues and are finally pregnant, which thrills me no end.

I literally treat Kira like a sister. I adore her. I look up to her. I seriously think she's the cat's meow. She and her hubby have been a bit obsessive about buying EVERYTHING you could possibly need for a baby, and all in matched sets. I admit it made me jealous. She has these perfect layettes (one for boy, one for girl) including matching hats and socks for each and every outfit, and when my baby was born, I had to send my mom out to buy something for Baby to come home from the hospital in. I said something maybe a bit snarky about it - like you never know what you're really gonna need, and she got all upset. I thought we'd resolved it - I apologized, explained that I'm a tad jealous. I've basically not been allowed to buy Baby any clothes - she gets tons of hand-me-downs from extended family, and it's really not in our budget to buy new clothes when we have perfectly fine ones.

Anyway, Kira's hubby was talking about how they're all ready now - they have the crib and everything, and I made an (admittedly thoughtless) remark that I hope they don't have the baby now b/c it wouldn't be able to come home that fast. Somehow, he thought that I meant that the baby would die and they were stupid to buy a crib.

So Kira sent me this super-long email about how horrible a friend I am, and where does this all end, and she can't understand me.

I wrote her back that there's a misunderstanding, and I'm sorry she thinks I'm not happy for her. I'm very happy for her. I'm thrilled for her to have everything she wants. I'm looking forward to Baby being friends with her baby, etc.

And now I'm sitting here, feeling terribly guilty and miserable for something I didn't even do.

And, of course, Sister (the one I was born with) will almost inevitably take Kira's side, because she thinks that I'm obnoxious anyway.

I was feeling terribly lonely yesterday, and this just makes me feel lonelier yet.

My parents are away for the next month or so, and I really need my mom.

I'm pregnant (due Jan 9), so my emotions were out of control to begin with, especially b/c in the beginning, I thought it might be ectopic. Fortunately, now we've seen the little'un, and everything looks okay, so I'm feeling a little better about that.

But I have some paranoia issues, so I'm wondering if I'm going to be punished now with a miscarriage or something. A lot of people around me have had miscarriages, even multiple miscarriages, and even later than 13 weeks (where I am).

I just want my husband to come home now, but he has a job, ya know. And I gotta take care of Baby, and nobody's taking care of me, and dammit, I'm supposed to be an adult, but I don't feel like one at all.

I wish I could stop crying.

Rambling about the Negatives.

I've been avoiding writing about this for a number of reasons, but I realize that if I don't get it out, I won't really get it out of my mind.

About 2 weeks ago, my husband and I watched the movie "Good Luck Chuck" at home. It's not a great movie. The basic premise is that the guy is a luck charm - if he sleeps with a woman, she will automatically marry the next guy she dates. At a certain point in the movie, they show him "providing his service" to many many women. It's fairly graphic (R rated, I think).

So anyway, my husband got turned on by the movie, and I was just not in the mood. If he'd asked or something, I probably would have been okay, but instead, he basically pushed me onto the bed and did it to me, even though I protested some of the time.

I completely blocked it out until 4-5 hours later when I was taking a shower, and then suddenly, it hit me, and I started crying uncontrollably. I didn't want him near me, I told him not to touch me. I felt completely violated. Over the next few nights, I had a series of very lucid dreams which I couldn't clearly distinguish from reality. They weren't terribly traumatic - just so clear that I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't anymore. I asked my husband about a phone call he'd made and he swore he'd never made it, for example. It was something that he'd have absolutely no reason to lie about - I asked him who he'd called about getting something in the house fixed, because I remembered having heard him on the phone with someone - as I played back the conversation, I realized that parts of it were illogical, so I'm going to have to go with the idea that it was a dream.

I also called my mother and asked her if they expected me to look online for silverware for them, and my mother basically said "that must be your other mother."

Then there were a few dreams where I "woke up" and realized it must be a dream, but that happened in a dream as well. I also had a night when I couldn't fall asleep at all. I was just anxious and uneasy for hours. Finally, I had something from the alcohol family and I was able to sleep. It was the first time I needed chemical help to sleep in a very long time. Since then, I haven't had to drink myself to sleep again, so I guess whatever it was is mainly worked through.

For some reason, I've had a really powerful reminder of something that happened to me in my early 20's.

The background: I was living with my parents, but my dad had pretty much told me to get out, just not in so many words, and I was still in school and didn't have a job, so I had no way to get out - actually, that's not true, I could have moved in with my brother & his wife (they offered, and they actually had space for me - I could have had my own mini-apartment in their basement), but the commute to school would have been near impossible, and they said I couldn't bring Doggie, who was pretty much my only friend at the time.

Anyway, I used to mess around in chat rooms a lot, and for whatever the reason, I had a lot of BDSM fantasies (in which I was a sub), so I started trolling for someone who would keep me on the side and pay for a place for me to stay. This guy Aristo picked me up. We arranged to meet someplace, and he took me back to his apartment. I won't go into all the details of what he did to me, b/c this isn't a porn site. At one point, though, he had me on all fours on the floor, and he sat on my back and pulled my head up by the hair so I was looking at a full-length mirror, and he said "look at you, you're a cow. See how you're my cow?" I was sobbing, but I wouldn't resist. I needed a place to live too badly. In the end, I refused to see him again, and I stayed at home another few hellish months (basically, the ruling was that as long as my dad didn't see me, I could stay).

Eventually, I got a job and my mom gave me enough money for me to put a security deposit on an apartment, which I shared with a guy roommate. He was actually a really nice guy - never made a move on me and got along with Doggie really well. I lived there for 2 years.

After I moved out, my dad started talking to me again, and I think he felt really guilty. He bought the place I live in now and he let me live here rent-free until I got married. Now my husband and I pay about half the going rate for a place like this, so I mean, my dad's really tried to make amends for what he did. He just doesn't realize how far things went. I think he'd cry if he knew.

Back From Camping

I haven't written in a while. Things have been rather hectic. My husband, baby, and I went camping. The weather was wickedly hot, hitting over 100 well before noon each day. There was a freshwater spring to swim in, which helped some, but it was a rough trip overall. My husband had a cold/upper respiratory infection thingy, and we ended up going home early. Since we don't have a car at the moment, the logistics both of getting there and of getting back were complicated, and we ended up leaving all our clothes for a friend of ours to bring back to our neck of the woods, which means I don't have my swimsuit here, so I can't go to the pool right now.

We have a few options. Options #1. I can try to lure said friend here by making a batch of the ice cream flavor of his choice. #2. I can take 2 train rides with Baby, and then drag the smaller bag back with me on same 2 trains and hope that the smaller bag contains at least one bathing suit, my goggles, and my swim cap (I don't want our friend going through our bag - there's underwear and stuff in there - I mean, he's not a perv, but I don't feel comfortable asking someone to go through a bag which contains much of our dirty laundry looking for a bathing suit for me.) #3. Husband can hitch a ride to friend's with his boss after work, and then take 2 trains back home. He can probably manage to get both bags back home if he goes on his own.

Currently, I'm working with the ice cream lure idea.

The other possibility is to use this as an opportunity to buy a new bathing suit, new goggles, and a new swim cap. (the pool I go to requires a swim cap for women - it's not a speed thing, it's a being allowed in the pool thing.)

--
In other news, Friday, I took another pregnancy test, and it was negative. I've been taking Metformin, which is what I did last time I got pregnant, and it worked then, so I guess I'll wait a while longer before I go back to a gyno. It's not like we're really specifically trying so much. Next month, we're going to an amusement park for the day, and I really hope I'll get to go on the roller coasters - I won't be able to do that if I'm pregnant.
--

I think I'll save the other stuff for a separate post, because there's more stuff that needs to be written, but it doesn't go with this.

Paint

I haven't written in a while for a number of reasons. Mostly because I don't write here when my husband's around. My husband likes to remind me that he's not meant to be my therapist, and as such, he doesn't need to hear what I went through in all its grueling detail...

I'm trying to decide where to go next. Sometimes, something's screaming to get out, but right now, a few voices are competing for the top of my mind...

A few nights ago, I had this thought. When my baby was born, I realized that we needed to repaint the nursery because there were garish designs of cartoon characters on the walls. My husband painted three layers over the designs. I asked him the other night whether we could strip off the paint, and whether the cartoon characters would still be there. Of course, he said it was possible. So I think. If we strip off the woman I've become - the mother, the wife, the writer, the friend - I'm still what I was under that. I'm still a scared girl with her shoes missing. I'm still the person whose life spun so out of control that she can't even name all of her sexual partners, and isn't even sure she'd recognize all of them by face.

So how do you strip those layers away?
I don't want them anymore.

PS Aunt Flo showed up.

Swimming

Today, I went swimming. I do that about three times a week. The pool was less crowded than usual, but since they clean the pool once a week - on Sundays, it was filthy. Basically, there are all these white fluffy things floating in the pool. It didn't take me long to realize that they're mucus. What was harder was suppressing my gag reflex... EWWW. I'm the type of person who finds wiping a baby's nose harder than wiping their rear.

Speaking of babies, I'm pretty much sure I'm not pregnant this cycle, though Aunt Flo is still MIA. I don't know why I was so sure that I was pregnant, but whatever. If Aunt Flo ever shows up, then there's another cycle to work with. If not, I think I'll get my doctor to put me on metformin. It worked last time, so I'm hoping it'll work this time.

Baby is so sweet. We had lunch with my mom, and she was just giggling and smiling the whole time... except when she tried to eat my cell-phone. Then she was just very intent on the task at hand.

Back to swimming, while I was swimming, I was in this whole bizarre fantasy about my high school English teacher. He was this British guy, not particularly attractive. Once I accidentally ripped a poster that was on the wall, so he asked me to stay after class and tape it back together for him. I held the sides while he taped it together. Somehow, for me, that moment was intimate. It's bizarre, but I guess it was the closeness, or the look on his face, or maybe the fact that at some points during the year, he talked to me after class, and somehow I felt like he understood me more than other people. At any rate, I still fantasize about him. I don't get it. Back then, I would have said he was the one I was least likely to fantasize about.

Back in high school, there were two male teachers I thought about a lot. One, I thought was the sweetest man alive. He could play guitar, and he had this sweet singing voice, and he used to sing at assemblies sometimes. Oh gosh, what I wouldn't have given for a hug from Dr. Johnny. Just thinking about him makes me all soft on the inside, even though I know that he never really thought much about me.

I guess it started on our freshie weekend (I went to a semi-posh private school for high school). There was this senior chick who came to wake us up and none of the girls got up and she got upset so she went to Dr. Johnny and Dr. Lamm and told them that we didn't want to wake up. So the two of them came to our floor of the hotel and started singing and shouting and stuff. It was so funny. I got up, no doubt with bed-hair and all that, and I said "we may be awake now, but we're going back to sleep." and Dr. Johnny said to me "Good morning, Miss Catherine, you look exceptionally beautiful today." Having the self-esteem of roadkill, it was basically love for me. And then the guitar. Nothing and I mean NOTHING is as hot as a guy who can play guitar.

And I don't mean guitar hero. I mean classic guitar, or better yet, twelve string. I mean soft sweet songs like "Cat's in the Cradle" and "Country Roads" and sitting around a campfire. I wish my husband would play guitar. We have a friend who plays pretty well, and I'm about ready to jump his bones every time I see him take out the guitar. Not a good thing.

Okay, here's the real problem. Why the hell am I fantasizing about every man on Earth EXCEPT my husband?! I love him. I mean it. He's made all my dreams come true. He's made my family accept me. He's given me a beautiful home and a gorgeous baby. He even accepts Doggie, although he isn't overly fond of dogs. So why can't I want him as much as I want every damned man that's out of reach?!

He's kind. He's gentle. He has a nice singing voice. He plays piano. He's attractive. He's strong. He has a variety of different talents, most of which impress me. He brings home a good salary. He's even muscular and not too hairy. I wish my body would just respond to him the way it did when we were first together. I want to have passion with him, and I just don't. I don't want to think about other men. I don't want to be this girl.

Oh the Embarassment!

I had a cleaner come in to clean up my house today. He's a post high school kid who's taking some time out to earn some cash before he starts college and life and all that. Nice kid.

I just looked at my night stand. In the pile of hair bands that he arranged neatly there, there's a used Nuva Ring. I feel really guilty... Jeez. That was in my... you know. and he put it into the pile... oh boy! That'll teach me to put trash in the trash - it's been sitting there like 6 weeks... oops.

Oh, and today's pregnancy test was negative. Aunt Flo must be on her way. How exciting.