Category Archives: Depression

Hey, I might like you… here is a picture of my dick. :-)

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Hey Ya’ll! How the heck have you been? Miss me? I have been eating paleo the last month so been sticking fairly close to home, hard to meet for drinks or coffee dates when you aren’t drinking. And no sitting at starbucks blogging either.

Okay, last time I wrote here I told you about a guy who rejected me. a few weeks later he texted me. Whatever else he had going on must have fell thru. Well, after a quick text to my friend T, we decided – fuck that guy. He missed his window. I did reply, but kept it icy. I’m no back up plan. And the more he texted me the less I liked him.

I’ve been on a couple casual dates, and some random texts from old flames. I did get a few dick pictures from a tinder meet. Holy horse cock. Hahaha. Since the cock shot shares, I see he isn’t on tinder anymore, so someone must have been adventurous enough to tackle the gigantic monstrosity, you know what, I’m sharing it. I’ll just snip it a bit. Hahah. Snip it…. My immediate reaction was fear. Pretty sure I have an average sized vagina, that equipment would bruise my poor lady parts.

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I’ve been working hard on improving my mood, before christmas and most of last fall I was feeling low. Depression had crept in along with stress, a few extra pounds and under eating. I just wanted to crawl into bed and hide out, but then would beat myself up for that. Instead of enjoying the rest and relaxing.

I’ve also tried to say yes to more things. Dinner with friends? Yes. Trip to Portland with my Ex? Yes. That’s right, a potentially awkward weekend away was a great time. We had some drinks, did a pub crawl, caught a basketball game and rang in the new year. Really great time. Are we rekindling a romantic flame? Nope. Not a chance. Not again. But he did mention (while drunk) he didn’t realize how good he had it with me. So there was a little vindication.

I was madly flirting with a friend of a friend a couple weeks ago at a games night. I told Cherise about my new boyfriend and that I intended to flirt my face off later that night, that I was almost ready to tell him he was my new boyfriend because I had seen him at a handful of events now. Well… I did flirt, we sat next to each other, leg against leg, I was TOTALLY in there! He gave me his phone number. Conquest complete. And then it happened. I made some reference about something in pop culture that he didn’t get. This was odd, he gets all my jokes, and is smart enough to know how funny I am. But he didn’t get this… suspicion crept in. How old is this man? Is he actually a boy, was I the oldest person in the room? Was I preying on him? Yes, I was, but was I cougaring him, not just preying? Shit. He is 25. Really? Ugh. I laughed, he said “almost 26” like that makes it any better. Dammit. We might have to break up. These imaginary relationships can be so hard.

Speaking of men far too young for my the 22 year old broke up with his girlfriend. Sigh. I feel mixed emotions about it, He is SO good for my ego. And he CALLS me. I know… uses that text and internet device I carry around with me to verbally communicate. But although he has gotten older, so have I. And he still lives a ways away. I have now realized I am not preying on him, but I think he may be hunting this cougar. And if I date a man 12 years my junior I can justifiably be called a “cougar.” I have been entertaining the idea of a t-shirt. I think it should say something along the lines of “must be this tall to ride” but should have a born-before date.

I went to Seattle for a weekend with my Blog buddy, we caught Super Bowl in the emerald city and had a little post game bar hop. We met a group in one bar, they left and they were already at the next bar we went to. It is the best feeling to walk into a random bar, that you have never been to before and have a table of people scream your name with excitement. I felt like a rock star. And I had a man tell me he “Loved his girlfriend, but I was truly extraordinary”. Awe. I wasn’t interested in anything but taking off my boots and brushing my teeth at that point. But good to hear for external validation none the less.

I have a lunch date today with a man of an appropriate age, and a couple on the hook for next week meet ups. No dick pics this week, but I am hopeful for next week!!

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Sad single girl

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Are you ready? This is a post I have been kicking around for a while. Weeks, maybe even months. Seems like there is never a good time, I SHOULD be doing many other things, “hey there… piles of junk stacked all over, way to clutter not only my space but my mind too.” Oh work, sure, yeah, I don’t need a life, I’ll just cover that shift, or stay late to get shit done. Website, although I am passionate about it, it’s all so overwhelming sometimes, and working with 10 min of daylight if I’m lucky any day. Well. Yuck. I don’t even want to start on the lack of Gym time.
Okay. I am 35. It kind of snuck up on me. My birthday came and went without the usual fan fare or celebration. I spent the day at home in my PJ’s. I talked to my parents, as they remembered this year (my mom never knows what day it is, so remembering date dependant events has never been her strength, Dad reminded her). Mom said “a break down doesn’t need to happen today.” So I shut out the world and warded off my breakdown.
How did this happen? It was a blink ago I was so HOT, and dancing on bars. I was going places, meeting people. I had plans. Get married, have kids, own a bar. Now I find myself 35, single, no kids, no bar (thank goodness). 35 is closer to 40 than 20. Yuck again. Yuck.
I’m still fairly attractive I suppose, how is that statement for wishy washy…I mean, I feel soft and frumpy right at the moment, but I have my charms. I am clean, for 35 I don’t have any grey, and my smile lines are developing nicely, but I don’t have much in the way of wrinkles.
So why the heck was this last birthday so tough? I mean honestly, I have a fabulous life. I don’t have to watch anything on TV I don’t want to. I don’t have to wear pants if I don’t want to. Had a rough day and feel like going home for a nap? Yeah, I can do that. I have no one but myself to provide for, feed and take care of. I mean, shit, once I pay rent, a can squander the rest of my money on animal print accessories, chocolates and things that sparkle. I feel like going for a drive and not coming home for 3 days, I can do that too. I am foot lose and fancy free.
It’s lonely.
And there are all sorts of social pressures. “You are STILL single.” “Don’t you want kids?” Blah blah blah. I resist my immediate response to tell people I am emotionally unavailable, and I pick men just like me. I want to cry . I want to laugh. I want to say “there must be a terrible flaw in me.” I want to give them a slow blink, turn on my (often awesome candy color stiletto) heel and walk away without muttering a single word.
I refuse to be in a relationship for the sake of not being single. And well, I don’t meet people sitting at home working on my food blog.
Some things need to immediately change. Covering shifts at work. Well, there will be an apathy flush. I am taking care of myself. Exercise. Every day. Has to happen. And blogging, writing for the sake of writing, likely on here because the other blog isn’t really mine, is good for my mental health. I can’t promise a lot, but so you know, I’m alive and struggling thru, and writing for you is on my radar. I will share my sad single girl tales…

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I’m not supposed to cry.

It’s bad for my lash extensions. Yes I am vain enough to go in every 3-6 weeks and have my girl individually glue on fake eyelashes. I do this, because, well, it makes me feel pretty. I rarely wear any chemical filled makeup, and I can stay in bed until the last possible second in the morning, then have a 10 minute shower, forget to put on deodorant, and go to work.
I am not supposed to hold back when I feel like crying because it’s bad for my chakras, emotional build up and overall health. It’s a conundrum.
So why is a girl who should feel pretty with her fancy new eyelashes, crying? I’m feeling rejected. I’m frustrated. I haven’t eaten enough today. I’m going to break down the how, what, and why.
It is insane at work right now. NUTS. We are up considerably over last years sales, and the store already does huge volume. We do millions in sales every year, and with a new till system plus increased volume, I’m a little stressed.
Cortisol, it’s a mother f@#ker.
My computer situation hasn’t improved. It’s broken, the other one has a virus and is slow, and the web browser on my iPad isn’t super cooperative for blogging recipes. I can’t upload pictures from my website partners windows/android platforms to my apple gear, and I generally find the actual writing of the recipes, well, if I was an oyster I would have made a few pearls. Cooking, love it, photos, all new to me, but okay, I have an artistic eye, sort of. Writing, I must for my well being, but messing around with spacing etc and putting in the recipes. Blech. And photo editing I may enjoy, but now, I am so completely clueless about it all. I hate not being an expert. HATE not being the best, fastest, smartest. Right now I am learning so many things it’s all over whelming and then I don’t have time to just cook, or just write because I have to mess about with all the other stuff.
I’m feeling isolated. I haven’t reached out to my friends or family, I haven’t seen them, I haven’t been on many dates, just one hike last weekend. One glorious hour away from the website. I have spent all day at work, all evening in the kitchen fighting with an oven that’s too hot, a computer that doesn’t work and trying to master original recipes and professional quality photography. By. My. Self. I used to cook with other people, My blog cohort, but he is busy programming. I can’t grab a tea and sit in the sun blogging at starbucks while I blurt out my thoughts and feelings because I’m stuck in the kitchen, again, By. My. Self. I have submitted some photography to food porn sites, and for every picture that is accepted 5 are rejected. I don’t often hear “No” I have realized. Again, I’m used to being the one that calls the shots, that has done the homework, has read the book, not just watched the movie. I know things about things. Add rejection to the frustration that every submission takes a photo resizing, a description, a write-up, the correct and innovative tags and 15 minutes of my life that I will never get back. To be rejected, because of composition, or because I can’t crop on my touch screen and I’m fighting with my tablet the entire time. It’s all so subjective. And it makes me want to throw something. Phew after that little pity party, I feel better, ish. At least I stopped sogging up my lashes.
Again, Cortisol, it’s a mother f@#ker.
I shouldn’t be blogging on here. I have been trying to drive traffic from this blog to that one. But honestly, why would you readers from here want to go over there? I haven’t put any content on there. I haven’t told any stories, or divulged any salacious tales. I haven’t been outside the kitchen. There has been no “50 shades of Holley” (thanks L, love that!). I worry maybe I’m not funny anymore. Even If I had a couple entries, the new blog, it’s like a new pair of jeans. It’s nice, looks great. We have gotten a LOT of compliments on it. But it’s not… comfortable. It doesn’t yet fit the curve of my ass quite right. There’s maybe a little chafing. I wrote a piece yesterday to post about the day a year ago I was hysterical, low, hopeless, and I used a dirty gym sock to blow my nose. My blog partner said it was too much. Too sad, too low. (more god dammed rejection). Maybe he’s right. But that’s where I was. I felt like I was at the bottom. Sunk. Disparaged. I got better. (Makes me think of monty python skit “she turned me into a newt! …I got better…) I made changes, I did the work. I had the support. I feel like people who shared in your lows subsequently are more cherished when they then get to share in your highs. Speaks to the quality of readers I had, and kept when I was Debbie downer. I feel like new readers need a little perspective on the drastic changes that can be made. The progress that can be had. The extreme swing from where I was a year ago, to where I am now, and where I could be a year from now. Maybe I’m not giving the new blog a chance. It’s like making a new friend. You can’t just push them into the deep dark end of your emotional pool. You have to coax them in, let them get comfortable with the temperature of the water, then send them into the deep end. Or off the deep end. Hahaha
I need to go eat…Dairy Queen. Because altho I have this clean eating blog, I’m still addicted to sugar. And I feel like I want to console myself, and watch trashy TV. If I get a banana split, it has fruit, that is like a salad? Yeah. Tomorrow I will yoga after work and start one of the 4 lifestyle books I bought today, maybe the 21 day sugar detox should be on the top of that list. And maybe write a recipe.

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Our new baby

OMG my blog partners post today about our new website is AMAZING. Check it out and read about my continuing adventures there!
http://theprimaldesire.com

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Ho hum.

So. I have been giving myself a lot of slack. Eating really clean, being a homebody, spending time with the wonderful Caramel Latte. Not going to the gym tho, spending all my time cooking and watching net flicks. I was being compassionate with myself, but really, hiding out a bit. Yesterday I woke up with a killer knot in my neck, a sure signal I’m not dealing with something. Also a dying thirst as the last 2 days have been spent eating hershey kisses in my office at work. Hershey Kisses are not paleo.
Okay, a quick re-cap. I checked my POF messages for the first time in a month (maybe longer) and had a guy who e-mailed me a year ago expressed relief at finding me on there again. I agreed to meet him for a drink. Why? Well, I’m a sucker, and he was so damn excited about seeing me. I planned the usual one hour meet and greet having a girlfriend meet me at the pub afterwards. He had been on more than 40 dates over the last 2 years. Not a bad guy, but an Eyore. The conversation was predominately about him, he was easily led, Initially he went on a mini rant, a sad story where he didn’t understand why women didn’t like him. And if there was a spark it would turn out women didn’t enjoy receiving oral sex, so he had to break it off. Well… cheque please, what a catch… a set of earplugs and a dental dam and I had my entire weekend planned. The ear plugs to muffle his whining, at least during the time his tongue wasn’t at work between my thighs. Why did he feel the need to say this in the first hour of our first date? He’s a bit of a mess honestly, A quote “If we were having a fight I would call you a Bitch, but I wouldn’t hit you or anything”. Wonderful. I should know better. Thank goodness for R meeting me for tea, because I have the suspicion Eyore was looking for/expecting a marathon date, but I had had enough conversation leading after 50 min.
Valentines day. Well, it was never a big deal around my house while I was “married” being single never really bothered me either, it’s a pegan fertility ritual, I need no part in it. And I have an excess of love in my life every day. But after last year, getting flowers, was nice. Damn you Goldylocks, you ruined me for valentines day. Hahaha. Not really but it was a jag at one point of the day, when I reflected on it. Luckily Karma had a husband out of town, lucky for me at least, and she made me dinner, we drank prosecco with strawberries and watched True Detective and chatted. Her darling of a grandmother just passed away last week, and she was telling me about it. Amazing the strength and love in people after experiencing a lifetime of loss and victory. Gran was a dear, and she will be missed. Also, True Detective, dark and smart, a new fave, not that I need more TV to watch.

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I slept like crap last night, up late, up early, and overall restless. I need to walk, work out, put together a program to stick to the next 30 days, and a kick ass playlist to motivate my bad self to the gym solo. 30 min every day light aerobic, even just a brisk walk. And no more dates because they are excited, I have to be excited about them.

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I need

I need to write. I need to dedicate some time, I had a date today, one a couple weeks ago, and plenty of subject matter to blog. I just haven’t put aside the time to write. I have been reading more, and spending time cooking. I am happy. Really content, and I think doing a fine job of living in the now, for the most part. I have spent a fair bit of time with caramel latte, but it is still far from serious. I am looking forward to maybe seeing the cute boy from the gym the next couple weekends, as he will be in town. I will rekindle my writing passion, it keeps me sane long term, but know right now, I am amazing, content, happy without mania. and with a stack of great reading material.

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