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the good things

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    the good things

    So, I've been scarce. Here's why.

    The last I posted regularly I was in the throes of abilify withdrawal. For about 3 weeks I collapsed into bed for entire weekends, barely functioned at work and was very, very miserable. Probably more than I am capable of even comprehending. But I knew that drug was making me fat, confused and indifferent to life. There was no going back.

    Only twice a week did my mood boost- when my trainer thrashed my ass at the gym. Slowly, my moods between gym days improved and I settled into my New Year's resolutions of music, exercise and cat volunteering. By the end of march I think I had cleared the hurdle, and it was so traumatizing that there was no clear demarcation point I could recognize except in hindsight.

    Earlier in March, I was so engulfed in loneliness I signed up for an niche networking site in the hopes of starting to date again when I got stable. But things were far from certain, I got word that my contract would end May 31st so I started fastidiously saving money.

    On good Friday, I saw the profile of a woman who hit all of my buttons- cats, music, books, a weird sense of humor, and very, very attractive. I made myself write to her and wondered if she'd think I was in my right mind to do so- she was 10 years older than I am.

    Our conversations resonated like pushing someone on the swing exactly the right way to make them go higher each time. It was like she already knew me. We had everything in common- both sacred and profane things.

    I was a ball of anxiety until May 31st- texting her every waking moment and losing ground on my good work with music and exercise. Then word came that I was being renewed until Christmas. And then I went totally fucking nuts.

    We had hinted repeatedly that we needed to meet, and June would be a good time. I obsessively priced plane tickets for the 500 miles between us, and the more we discussed the logistics and details of the matter I finally broke down and offered to drive. There are some things you do not want turning up in an x ray machine at the airport.

    She offered to meet me halfway- and a lightbulb went off in my head. Exactly halfway between us is a historic 5 star resort. It just happened to be my 30th birthday, and I drunkenly laid down the plan to sweep her off her feet. I booked a weekend at the end of June, offered her the invite (which she accepted in a state of flattered stupefaction), and counted down the most agonizing month of my life. I had plenty of money saved up that I didn't need for being laid off and could afford this, so why not live a little?

    The next few paragraphs will sound very creepy and inappropriate if taken out of context. So I must mention this. After I booked the room, I read her the riot act that she had better not be cheating on anyone by seeing me and must indeed be single. She then broke down and said she had something to tell me, but it would take a couple of hours to get it together. She was engaged for about 10 years and it catastrophically fell apart when she got cancer. Since then she never wanted to be in a relationship again, she thought men were simply incapable of ever treating her kindly. Even though she's gorgeous and clear now, she's never lived it down or thought herself capable of loving again. I then related my story of how my 6 year relationship disintegrated with a lot of money and my academic career on the line and how I too was broken, never to love again. Suddenly it made sense why she was close to her mom and clung codependently to cats like I do. I was never afraid to say anything to her after that. Finally, I found someone who understood, and no gesture felt too great. She slipped and said she loved me, and I said those exact words had gone through my head as well. But I told her never to text them again. I wanted her to say it in person. So we came up with a euphemism to say before bed each night- "3 words".

    She also said her birthday was the weekend before we met. I got a devious scheme- she had dropped the username of one of her girlfriends she would go on obscene troll raids with to get men to food their inboxes with pathetic flirtations. I knew if she was telling me about her, then she definitely already knew about me. I messaged her and asked for her address so I could send a birthday gift, knowing full well she'd confront her that some creep was asking where she lived. The address came back. Well played.

    I knew that she was expecting something, so it really wouldn't be a surprise. Then I saw a briefcase lying on the floor and got an idea- lock her present inside, give her friend the code, deny sending it and let her troll friend terrorize her for each digit to get it open. She would be so overwhelmed when she realized that the surprise doubled over on itself in the most unexpected way.

    I also sleuthed out her shoe size from her friend and went to Nordstrom for red patent something- and then I saw a pair of red Valentino heels that screamed over all the others. When it came time to ship, I told her friend the code and to terrorize her for up to 48 hours in exchange for the digits so as not to interfere with our trip.

    I texted her a heartfelt message about how my words would have to do, and how I was above material goods and was not a superficial person, and maybe she should check her goddamn mail because SOME people actually still sent cards.

    She then sent me this puzzled message about what was in the locked briefcase after the fedex guy left and I was refreshing the delivery confirmation page incessantly.

    "Dear, I just got a locked briefcase from you- what on earth are you up to?"

    "Leave me alone WOMAN!!! I don't even know your address. Quit wasting my time with this childish crap. Maybe someone who DOES know your address would be better to ask. Don't bother me."

    She boiled over in a total rage when she realized she'd been had. First she was angry with her friend for about 20 seconds for conspiring against her like that and leaving her out of the loop- then got very obedient when she realized who was holding the cards.

    - For the first digit she had to send flirts to older men. Being that she's very, very hot, this is a death wish. Screencaps were required to prove each one.
    -For the second digit she had to post horribly insipid music to her feed like Justin Beiber and endure the hate mail.
    -She never made it to the third number, because she was able to guess by then.

    She broke down crying with joy when she realized how far I had gone for her. No one had ever put that much thought into doing anything for her before.

    (Words of wisdom, men, do not EVER EVER think of trying something like this unless you've confirmed she's already crazy about you. Otherwise it would be very inappropriate.)

    I took the next Friday off from work and drove down to the resort. I arrived early to scope the place out, and decided we would meet at an open air rotunda with a mineral well at the bottom. I dropped a pin (you know, a phone map pin), and told her to follow it to meet me. She was to stare at the sprinkler so I could sneak up behind her with the bouquet of roses I'd bought at the resort's florist a few minutes before. I saw her from 100 yards off- her scarlet Jessica Rabbit hair blazed conspicuously. I tapped her shoulder, she took off her ray bans, and we locked lips without saying a goddam word. Then, we said the 3 words for real.

    The next 36 hours were a blur of bucolic garden strolls, sex and 5 star dining that I will not indulge in too much detail here. I suppose the one thing that would grab the essence of the weekend was when we were in the main dining room, the band started playing "unchained melody" and we just stared at each other, not saying a word. I circled my thumb in her palm and watched her facial expression change as her pulse went up and her breathing became labored- what could you possibly say in a moment like that? How many thousands of times in your life do you hear that song without realizing how beautiful it actually is?

    When we left, we stood on the portico for over an hour because the valets screwed up finding her car. We could care less- leaving there would be like jumping into a cold swimming pool. Finally, they hauled ass bringing her car back, we loaded up and went to the train station across the way to say a proper goodbye.

    I drove so recklessly on the way back- utterly out of my mind with joy. If anybody likes the Pixies, their track "Greens and Blues" happened to come on and I blasted it on repeat. I could just not be contained.

    We're meeting once a month with her flying up here until we figure out where this is going. I've never been so happy in my life. If you want any perspective, read my early posts from late 2012 at how horribly my life was going back then. Things do get better.

    Ain't it good to be alive?

    #2
    the good things

    YOWZA!! Well, huh?!? I'm happy for you. You could have a second job writing romance novels! Thanks for your update.

    Comment


      #3
      the good things

      That is freaking awesome, man. Thanks for posting and so happy to hear the good news.

      Comment


        #4
        the good things

        I should have known you were a professional writer. Daaannng!

        Comment


          #5
          the good things

          Holy!! You are quite the writer. I'd have to agree with kronk. You should be writing romance novels or something

          Seriously, though, I wish you the best in your current relationship. Starting a new one is always rough. There will always be ups and downs, and it sounds like you're weathering it nicely.

          By the way, I f'n love the pixies. I once saw them live. But that was many years ago. I didn't even know they were still around. Thank you for enlightening this old soul.

          Comment


            #6
            the good things

            Awwww......happy for you!
            IT'S NEVER TOO LATE TO BE WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN
            Relapse starts long before the drink is drunk!!.Fresh Start!

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              #7
              the good things

              :goodjob: :l:wave:

              Sam

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                #8
                the good things

                Thanks guys. I get very mixed reception with the briefcase prank- men think it's really creepy and women think it's brilliant. She actually had to stop talking to some people about that weekend because it made them so jealous. I've not told my parents about her- they're probably going to kill me over the age gap. But I'm dead serious about this.

                As for writing, I do have an English degree before I switched to engineering. I used to entertain myself wrecking message boards with fake characters while drunk and got fairly good at writing by doing it. But none of the above is made up- in fact if it's been glossed over it's not mentionable in polite company.

                It's funny though, I've never felt so fearless in my life. In the letter I put in her briefcase I said how until I met her, I thought that not being afraid to die because things were so terrible would be the most intense thing I'd ever experience. But with her, not being afraid to live was so much more overwhelming.

                Comment


                  #9
                  the good things

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                  Comment


                    #10
                    Fred, I'm so sorry your relationship disintegrated, and in such a stressful and messy way, it sounds like. No words, just support from afar, and it's very good to hear that you survived intact.

                    Comment


                      #11
                      You have got to be kidding me? Really? On the Medications Research site? Oh well, perhaps drama is needed to keep the site alive. Should you one (or two) not take this theater to a different part of the forum?

                      Comment


                        #12
                        Originally posted by spiritwolf333 View Post
                        You have got to be kidding me? Really? On the Medications Research site? Oh well, perhaps drama is needed to keep the site alive. Should you one (or two) not take this theater to a different part of the forum?
                        Spirit, what's going on with you, buddy? Are you ok? Are you drinking, or off your meds? I'm concerned. Why would you post this? The meds thread is where we write diaries and where we connect with each other, and where we share our day-to-day lives in a non-judgmental way. If you don't like that, then go hang out in General Discussion, where they *only* talk about staying sober one day at a time.

                        Comment


                          #13
                          Originally posted by StuckInCA View Post
                          Spirit, what's going on with you, buddy? Are you ok? Are you drinking, or off your meds? I'm concerned. Why would you post this? The meds thread is where we write diaries and where we connect with each other, and where we share our day-to-day lives in a non-judgmental way. If you don't like that, then go hang out in General Discussion, where they *only* talk about staying sober one day at a time.
                          Stuck -all in all, you are funny as hell. All bs aside, things would get real boring -real quick if we did not have you and your drama to read about. You got my arse rolling in laughter with this post -and I am glad -I needed a break.
                          Last edited by Spiritfree; December 3, 2014, 08:06 PM.

                          Comment


                            #14
                            Originally posted by Son_of_Fred_the_Cat
                            And one more thing- I really want this story on here because a lot of guys suffer from "lonely drunk single guy" syndrome. If you follow my threads from the beginning of this year, I got my ass in shape and had my act together enough to seize an opportunity when it came instead of losing it because I was a drunken waste.

                            You CAN have the good things in life if you can stand on your own two feet and don't depend on them as your sole means of survival. The good things aren't a goal to live for (and die without), but a product of living for its own sake. And when the good things are gone you've still got a life to go back to.

                            If that's not a reason to grow out of alcoholism then I don't know what is.
                            Fred, you've said it all for me. This was something I learned after I quit drinking daily. Thank you for posting all of this.

                            Comment


                              #15
                              hi everyone! I'm a single parent. It is easy to hate and it is difficult to love. This is how the whole scheme of things works. All good things are difficult to achieve; and bad things are very easy to get.I enjoy life when things are happening. I don't care if it's good things or bad things. That means you're alive.

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