It it just this place or isitjustme? Do I have this crazy kind of magnetic force or aura I emit that draws certain types of people to me? Or, isitjustme? At this point in my life should I accept (or believe) that everything really does happen for a reason, there are no coincidences, everything is as it should be?
Out of all the gazillions of people on the Internet why is it that I meets Johns? Not just Johns, but alcoholic ones. I consider them ex alcoholics but, apparently there isn't such a thing. Once an alcoholic always an alcoholic. Not that I have anything against alcoholics, heaven knows I attempted the 12 steps, attending the meetings, heard the horror stories. That experience helped me to realize that I have other issues, I couldn't blame my alcohol use as the cause of them, just one of the symptoms of my bigger issue, being crazy.
I felt for those folks (not me) they lived on the edge. A deep dark hole (snake pit I believe) that that teetered on the edge of every day. Some seemed so frightened of their demons, so out of control. I would walk out of those meetings feeling like a fake. I pretended I had the same demon so I could be in their club. I could relate to their fear of falling in a pit, but, my pit was different. I didn't crave alcohol, or drugs or sex for that matter (well maybe sex). My demon was my thoughts, my crazy irrational thoughts that I couldn't control. There isn't a 12 step program for those of us who teeter on the edge of sanity, just therapy (yuck) and little pills.
I suppose I should be happy that didn't meet this John in a chat room labeled 'self pleasure'. Granted that was over three years ago and I've learned to stay away from IMing men. You gotta remember, I was new to this Internet game, I was curious, it was intriguing. I had this crazy notion that people would be honest, no one really knew anyone, no one had to hide who they really were, they could be themselves. OMG, how naive! Plus, I loved the whole erotic talk aspect of this place. I've gotten over that. It gives me the creeps now.
Back to the Johns (and one Jon, but he's different, he tells me I should only trust what I can see and feel). Not only do they have their name and alcoholism in common they are both great with their fingertips. They have a way with words and they both are very funny. One of them is still very new to me the other is over 3 years in the making. Unfortunately my old one has run it's course. And in it's course I have learned some very hard lessons. The biggest one is not to trust. Not trust anything that I am being told, that I read, to not allow myself to be vulnerable (that's a joke, can a leopard lose it's dots [or are they spots], an old dog learn new tricks? Nope).
I used to think I was very intuitive of people, a great judge of character. I am still shocked and amazed how far off I was on my 'old' friend John. I can't trust myself to believe my thinking anymore (my 'rational' thinking). I allowed my vulnerability to cloud my judgement. Life can be so unfair at times and these past few years have taken a toll on me. I'm tired, I'm sad and I think about him all the time. I got so used to sharing my day, trials, tribulations then topping it all off with a goodnight conversation before we hopped on the sleepy train. I miss our conversations. I'm back into my non sleeping mode, watching the sky lighten with the rising sun. This is not good for my thoughts.
I am going to be optimistic because I don't want to live mistrusting the world and everyone around me. I have to believe that there are good people out there. Not that he was bad, he was very good to me in so many ways, he just couldn't be honest. He couldn't trust that I would still like him if he told me his truths. I could have, I really really could have. I know I know, get over it, move on! Shut-up!
Anywho... there is a moth on my drapes. Earlier a centipede on my desk. Yikes! I am surrounded by creatures that I can't kill. Spiders, ants, creepy crawlies that I watch until I can't see them any more. If I attempt to move them out of my sight (out of sight out of mind) by way of kleenex or a piece of paper I literally scream at the thought of them moving in my hand. I'm sure my neighbors have wondered a few times if they should call the police. Thank goodness they haven't. Then again should I be concerned? What if someone does break in and attack me? I'm screaming and they are ignoring. Even the old mutt would wonder what my problem is, he doesn't see any bugs. Plus, there might just be a pet in it for him.
Man, this journaling stuff is really self indulgent. You have to be a little full of yourself to think that others might be interested in your crap. Then again, it can be therapeutic to put crap into words. Also embarrassing, was that really me? Did I think that, did I really do that? Then again my fingertips have always had a way of talking, I was just used to sharing my words with my 'old' John. I'm sure that's one thing he doesn't miss about me. My need for sharing everything I think or want. It has to be a relief to not see my name in his in-box, my voice in his voice mail, his message machine, my texts on his phone. It has to be a relief to not listen to me say the same things over and over again, ask the same questions time and again thinking at some point I'll get the answer I want. Sounds a little psychotic huh? Even a little stalkerish, I'm not tho, obsessive, yeah, maybe.
I am so full of crap, thoughts. I think I could type forever. I should call this journal 'Jennifer's ramblings with a few rants thrown in'. Can you imagine having a conversation with me? Holy smokes!
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