Ugh, Guy and Health Issue

I got a call the other day from a guy who I went out on a date with a few years ago. I don't know why guys think that they can do this and I'll remember them, the details of our dating and why I didn't continue to date the guy. This guy was named Art. During our date, I felt uncomfortable and not safe with him. He also took off his pants to get comfortable-- yeah, right. The only thing he brought over was margarita mix and seemed to want me to get more drunk than just tipsy on the first date. I heard from him about two weeks later and he wanted sex. He said something like, "I've been thinking about you every day." Really? Then why did it take you two weeks to tell me that I'm on your mind all the time?
So, we talk on the phone the other day. He seemed just as perverted as ever. For some reason, he thought that at the time we dated, I wanted sex with no strings attached or casual sex without a committed relationship (which in my mind is two different things but maybe that's where the miscommunication was). He remembered I wasn't having sex at the time. But he insisted we only did what I was comfortable with-- really, then why was I so fucking uncomfortable? I didn't ask him to take off his pants or lay on top of me. I made up that I was having an outbreak so he'd leave. He said that if he was really a rapist, he would have been more aggressive. Really, that wasn't aggressive enough? I had an action plan of banging on the wall to get my neighbor's attention to get this guy off of me and out of my apartment.
So, his big reason for taking off his pants? I had my shirt off. Oh, so, that means I must want sex when I've said I don't want sex. Really?
After this date, I didn't date for a while. I didn't want to have anyone over. I was really scared. I was scared that he'd come back, stalk me, even. I blamed myself-- how could I be so stupid? I didn't feel comfortable and I shouldn't have had him over. When he blamed me, for having my shirt off, I felt like I was slightly to blame but he had a weird story in his head. And he continues to have this story-- enough to call me and ask me out on a date thinking that I'm still into this whole "sex with no string attached." I've never done that. There are always strings attached. I have enjoyed long term booty calls with no committed relationships. Mostly, it wasn't an official relationship-- even though it was a relationship of some sort. I also felt mostly respected in those type of relationships. Art didn't respect me. He also has some weird thing about having a woman who has money and can take care of herself because he doesn't want to take care of her. This makes me really happy to be with my boyfriend-- who respects me and will give me the shirt off his back if I needed it.

After all this, I got the test results back from my annual exam. I have to get another test to see what the abnormal cells are. I'm scared. I blacked out during sex one time and I had sex with a guy who then wanted a relationship. He had had sex with an older woman who I knew. She was very open about having her cervix removed from cancer. He didn't believe that she had cervical cancer when I told him.
I talked to him last night and he blamed me. He said that he couldn't get tested to see if he had HPV and that I couldn't have known if it was from him. I can't believe he said that. Then he accused me of trying to find a reason to hate him. If I hated him, I wouldn't have said anything. I would have just gone on and maybe sent him some message in a few months about making sure he uses protection because of the incident.
I had a friend come over last night to make sure I was OK. We talked about my worries-- for the future of me, of Jeremy, of children, of possibly having cancer, and on and on.
I know eventually I'll be OK. I just have to freak out a bit before I calm down.
Thanks for listening.

No Trigger or Worries

 I realized the other day that I don't worry about watching "That 70's Show." There was a time where it made me very uncomfortable because Hyde reminded me of Kirk. For a while, I thought that Kirkwood Smith was the guy who played Hyde. Kirkwood Smith was the dad, Red. Kirk reminded me of the 70's with his hippie van and just something about him. He was a pot smoker and probably had some parental issues like Hyde did too. I'm glad that I don't have to worry about that anymore. It feels like I can remember less and less of it. As far as PTSD, it's great. It means that the event is becoming more and more processed and less of an issue. :)

The Best Revenge and Others

I was trying to do some poetry with the words I had. I have lot of words to use. They just seem to pile up and I intend to make more collages with them but then I don't.

I think this one represents my want to know what sex was like and the serious consequences of getting involved with a person who showed me the dark side of sex.



I like that I had some hope. It was like a grounding for me. I could do a lot of deep work by just knowing that I'm doing this to be better.


I just said, "Awe," to this one so I thought I'd post it.

Community and Break downs

I'm hoping to add some photos soon. I know I haven't added photos in quite some time so I'll try to get up on that. I have two finished visual journals and the beginning of another so, I have plenty of material.
So the man that I was sorta involved with but just wanted to be friends with-- well, he and I have been at least talking friendly. But at all times, he seems like he's just looking for a way to talk about himself. It can be taken as quite condescending although I know he doesn't mean it that way.

I am still going to the Unitarian church and finding a good community there. They have been nothing but supportive. I thought no one knew me or noticed me but the pastor has. She said I was in her prayers but she didn't know how to get a hold of me.

My friend from jr. high passed away in June. I've been upset ever since and it's been rough. She had this tough life of drinking early, having her social security number stolen twice, and lots of anger issues. She seemed like she was on the way to being happy-- she had a kid with a guy and they were going to get married this year in August. It sucked. I shared this at church and got the support I needed. It was a good feeling.

I started bringing some people to church. My boyfriend has talked about it but hasn't gone. My friend who was raised Catholic wants to go to see what it's all about. A friend from my job at the nursing home came last week and said it was like poetry how it all came together. It was nice.

---

Here's what I wrote recently:
9/30/2011
I told my boyfriend about the issues that I had been going through. It was at a moment of weakness. I had lost my job and was crying and crying and crying. Suddenly, we got onto the topic of my sexual issues. I told him about the break down last March and the three rapes. I didn't tell him about the incidences of not-rape. Not-rape like when I had sex with my boyfriend at the time (about 5 years ago) after I had a few drinks. I didn't really want to have sex at that time but we did. I feel like there's just never ending issues for me.

For the short time I was working at a nursing home, I was stressed all the time. I had so much stress that I would forget so easily. My supervisor could tell me something and I'd forget in two seconds. I had asked her about something and about two months later, the issue had come up again. It was as if my mind had reset and I forgot. I felt that I was just there to be told what to do even when others weren't doing the same things. Then, things would get behind because of other departments and then, I'd get in trouble. They were blaming me a lot and I never said anything about it to my supervisor. I feel like even if I had tried to explain it to her, then, she still wouldn't believe me. My friend had helped me to have humor in the situation and a coworker had said that I shouldn't take any blame for anything.

I remember a time when I was a kid when my mind reset. I had a thought to call my cousin to wish him happy birthday. I double checked and saw that his birthday was actually the next day. I remember being young enough that my parents had to help me to make a long distance call. My mind had then reset and I called anyway. Later, I realized what I had learned earlier, that his birthday was the next day. My parents said that I was insistent so they let me call. I also vaguely remembering that they had told me that his birthday was another day but I was so determined to call him that I did anyway. It was such an odd thing.

After I was fired from the job, my friends and coworkers were upset. I felt that they were being protective and I was embarrassed. I was starting to believe that I wasn't doing the right thing. I wasn't going to the CNA's to ask them to hurry along. I wasn't saying, "hey, watch that patient real quick for me, please." I wasn't walking up to patients to make sure that they were engaged in the program nor was I trying to get them engaged in the programs sometimes. Sometimes I was really tired. Sometimes I hated the whole thing. Sometimes the activities I did were hurting me. I started making it known I hated certain activities. I tried to tell myself that my supervisor wanted me to do well so she was encouraging me along. I just didn't like that she had to talk to me almost every day. I'm glad that it was just a work performance issue, though. With my previous job at the hospital, it was that I wasn't wearing professional clothing and that I was getting too snippy with the patients. So, I worry about those things. I feel that this job at the nursing home was very easy and that I was too good/smart for it. I think that it's better for me that I'm not at either place anymore.

I realize that I like stories where I am the victim of something. I always find something. I try to down play it a lot of the time when talking about a certain situation. I feel that many people don't know the true complexity of me nor the situation so when they give me advice or a statement about the issue, I think, "You don't know the whole story." I explain more but people already have their opinions so, they just hear more about what they already believe. It's a little annoying. At first, I was so angry with my dad, I'd always tell stories. Then, I'd get mad when people would say, "I'm sorry." Why? Did you do something? Leave me the fuck alone to my emotions. So, I was just angry. Lately, it was my bad day in San Francisco last year. The summary: Bad hotel, bad sleep, cold and allergies, called my ex to tell him the cat was dying (she died that night) and found out he was getting married, carried my heavy bags down some stairs, lost my phone, went to the wrong hotel, went to San Francisco, got off at the wrong stop on BART, bum bothered me and a man asked for money for a bad photo I'd taken of him, had something to eat where the guy reminded me of the guy I was trying to get over, went to the art museum only to discovered it was going to close in 45 minutes, I considered going to China town, went to a small coffee shop called "Leaf" and discovered it was really a Starbucks, went back to the hotel (2 hours to get back). I told it over and over again and a coworker had said that I was taking it too personally. So, I started saying that before hand-- "Maybe I'm taking it too personally." I am looking at all that I wrote and I am amazed that that was one day. But I feel that I tell that story to gain sympathy.

I also realize now that I really like attention. I do a lot to get attention. I like when I'm the only one talking and people are just so into what I'm saying. I like when people listen. I had enjoyed talking to one of my coworkers because it felt like an even exchange. We talked and took in what the other was saying. It was nice.

10/1/11
I remember a time when I was having my break down in March. I was suicidal but I didn't really want to die. I wanted to hurt myself but I didn't want to cut myself. I decided to have too much fiber. It was as if I wanted to get rid of the bad things in my body. I knew it hurt my stomach. I was glad when someone listened to me that time. She said, "You're not eating right. Change that and start walking. You can make the time for it." It was just the right amount of advice, concern, and listening to me.
Sometimes I still feel very young. I feel like I am just a child. I know my mind is sharp but I feel like I fuck up all the time. I feel like it's only a matter of time before people realize I don't know what I'm doing. I've been feeling very lost.
I thought my supervisor at the nursing home was using some sort of motivational technique by making me feel badly. I got mad at her one day when I redid an overcrowded closet. She didn't want me to throw away anything. She wanted me to ask her about what to throw away or not. She had made it clear earlier that she was not rational. She thought she might throw away things later but she decided to keep them for the time being. I don't understand that type of thinking. The closet was even more overcrowded when my coworker decided to put everything from the office in there. Then, my supervisor had the galls to say, "So-n-So worked her butt off to clean up the office." Yeah, so she could pass it to me. I hated her but I couldn't do anything. I didn't say anything. I didn't feel like I had the right anymore. I was dis-empowered.
I noticed people pleasing behaviors like trying to make one of the patients happy especially when his wife came to visit him. They seemed to have such a spiteful relationship that I wanted to make sure that at least she was happy. On my last day, he cried in front of me saying that he was homesick. Another time he said that he knew he was acting like an asshole. Later on my last day, I heard someone call him a jerk. They didn't know that he had cried. I wrote a note about it before I didn't have a chance to write down another one.

I am feeling a bit lost without an income. I feel like I'm just looking for the next job that will take me, hoping that it'll work out this time. I hope it pays the bills, I can move out and my life can get even better. I just want people to be able to come over, hang out, and there won't be any problems. I ask my spirits and G-d to light my way so I can see my path. So far, nothing has come to me yet.
Tomorrow, my friend has invited me to his church and I've invited him to my church. So, we're going to do both services-- his at 10AM and mine at 11:15. I guess it's good that it could work out that way. Eventually, I want to go see a previous patient at her church so that I might become friends with her niece. They used to come to the nursing home to pass along the word of G-d according to the Baptists. I don't know the difference. They all are Christians to me. At least these people seem less judgmental than others. I find it interesting that after I asked a different Baptist group to pray for me and they prayed for me to find my way in what is my path, I was fired nearly a week after that.