My back is fookin’ killing me right now. Lower back. No other symptoms. I went to bed on Sunday night and woke up lying on my back, took a breath and boom, back pain city. Ever since, it’s been fairly consistent. Not severe (except for when I woke up at 5am and took a breath). It’s a dull ache. It radiates around my lower back from the middle to the sides/flank. No other symptoms (again).
My girlfriend bought us a brand new mattress on Thursday evening. Didn’t sleep good on Friday night, because she worked third shift (I never sleep good while she does those shifts; sleeping without her sucks). Didn’t sleep good on Saturday night, and I have no idea why, because we were out and about all day in 97 degree weather and I was pretty tired, but I struggled to fall asleep. Sunday night… went to bed but woke up with the aforementioned back pain, and it just hasn’t gone away.
I mowed the yard yesterday, and that always gives me back pain. While I don’t think I’m very tall (6’2″; average), mowing the yard always hurts my back because I have to bend forward a little bit to push the lawnmower. Probably didn’t help. Going to bed last night was a motherfucker.
Anyway, maybe it’s all due to stress?
I’m so scared of the future. I’m 26 years old. I just, for the first time ever, accepted my student loans. They are pending. I’m taking online classes, and one physical in person face to face class locally, at a university. The in person class will be local, at the community college I just finished up at. I have a hold on my student account that’s been troubling my mind lately. Anxiety city. Damn. Wish I had another month before classes start, so I can get my shit together, or at least pretend to.
One of my former high school teachers died last Friday. He was my geometry teacher during my junior year of high school in 2007-2008. I didn’t really think he was that great of a teacher — and I did poorly in his class, as a perennial bad math student until lately — but he was a hell of a person. Truly one of a kind. A lifelong heavy metal, all-things-WVU loving headbanger unafraid to say anything, unabashedly himself.
He retired last year. He was diagnosed with cancer in February or March… brain and lung (longtime smoker)… died last Friday.
He posted his phone number on Facebook asking for anybody to call him.
A few times, he asked people to visit him anytime.
He was sent home with hospice on July 5th.
I kept telling myself I was going to call and visit him.
I never did. I feel like a piece of shit for not doing so. I’m going to regret this forever, I feel. A lot of my fears was that, maybe he wouldn’t remember me? I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about how he passed away. He was always so healthy and active and growing his garden and going to heavy metal (Doro) concerts. And now he’s gone.
I get it. People died. I’ve lost more people in my 26 years than most have. All my grandparents, my dad, an uncle who was like a second dad to me, a great friend in 2010, my uncle in January…. it’s rough. But damn, the regret of never going to see him has been hurting my soul deeply.
Even though I eat a diet that — by all accounts, through scientific peer reviewed studies and research — is optimal for testosterone production…. I’ve been an emotional fucking mess.
For example, my girlfriend came home last night after working a 3-11 shift, and she said she heard some crazy noise outside, like footsteps, and she hurried and got in her car. She then said, “I thought I was a goner! And that I’d be dead, and wouldn’t get to see you again” …. and I don’t know fucking why, but replaying what she said a few times made me bawl like a little baby.
I love her so much.
But this depression/emotional state is killing me.
Usually, I love the summertime. Even if it’s hotter than hell and damn near impossible to deal with, it’s usually the happiest time of the year for me, but this has been one of the most stressful, emotionally taxing summers of my life. And I don’t know why.
I’ll never tell her this, but I feel like a burden to my girlfriend. She loves me so much, and I feel like I constantly disappoint her. She’s never expressed, implied or displayed feelings that implicate that, but I feel like I could be doing so much better. I probably kept her up way too late last night with my back pain. So full of guilty feelings today. Holy shit. Just had to get this all written down.
I’m 26 and I feel like I haven’t accomplished anything in this life. If you also wield this mindset, don’t be afraid to chime in.
Here’s the quick overview of my story if you don’t know: I graduated high school in 2009 and started attending community college that fall. My relationship with my first love began to deteriorate and I stopped attending all my classes except my 8am English class (I didn’t properly drop my classes). I never returned for the spring semester in 2010. My first love eventually cheated on me and I ‘wallowed in the mire’ (as Jim Morrison and The Doors would say) for years until I returned to the same community college in 2014 and finally took a 1.9 GPA to a 3.5.
I’m supposed to begin my time at a university next month.
I’m nervous as hell. Almost sick.
More than anything, I’m just waiting to hear back that my student status is all good and that everything is OK.
It’s hard for me to accept that these feelings and emotions are normal.
I practically lived in a bubble between 2010-early 2014. I didn’t do jack shit. I tried my best to be comfortable. That was never a way to live. I was always depressed. I’m depressed right now, but that’s only because I’m scared, full of fear and I’m worried about my student status.
Still waiting on my immunization forms to ‘go through’. My advisor is taking her sweet ass time getting back to me about it.
Fuck, I’m nervous. Have I mentioned that?
Taking out loans in freaking me the fuck out, too.
One of my classes is going to be a once a week evening class for five weeks. I know it’s going to be long and rigorous. My only problem with that is, I’m a morning person now. I’d rather the class start at 6 or 7 in the morning rather than 6 in the evening. My most productive hours of the day are in the morning. By the evening, I’m exhausted, no matter what. This is going to be difficult.
But fuck, I know I can do it. I have to do it.
Last month, I had a fear that my student loan was not going to cover tuition, books, etc. etc. During that fear, I was sick to my stomach over the thought that I would never be able to do what it is that I want to do. That made me sick. It still makes me sick. The thought of not doing something great, that I want to do, makes me want to go puke.
That’s how I know I want to be successful. How I need to be successful.
Believe in yourself, inner drive, optimism, all that bullshit doesn’t matter without action. Belief + action is what drives the bus. Action without belief just makes you a zombie. Belief without action just makes you a mental masturbation participator.
I’m full of extreme anxiety at this time (no, it’s not the caffeine).
I want to be successful so badly it hurts.
After those years of doing nothing and fantasizing about my first love not screwing me over, I’m on a pretty decent path now. I cannot fail. I must put in the hours of work to accomplish what I deem necessary.
I was a terrible high school student from 2005-2009; never studied. My peers never did. I skirted by. I’ve been on the straight and narrow since 2014, when I went back to college. It’s night and day. I put pressure on myself from the get-go to study, to learn how to study and simply do what’s necessary. Of course, most of my fellow classmates have been folks straight out of high school, and many of them slacked off (not surprising) as I’m sure they had their parents paying their way, but I just wanted to put my head down, work hard and get through all the bullshit.
I don’t know why I’m so worried at the moment. I’ve been accepted as a student. I’ve accepted my loans. Now it’s just a waiting game. Tuition is due in one week and I’m not sure how the fuck to ‘pay’ for it with my loans. Again, still waiting for my advisor to return my emails.
Thanks for reading this big batch of incoherent word vomit, if you read it. I just had to put something down on ‘paper’.
I finally mustered up the courage to block all ways to look at my my first love’s Facebook. To clarify, I wasn’t looking out of emotional stimulus to see what she was up to; I was jacking off to her.
What a waste of time and energy.
I’m trying to move away from masturbating. I don’t mean never masturbating again; I mean sitting at my computer after I wake up between 5-7:30 AM and edging. It would be different if I was spending 5-15 minutes jacking off and that’s it, but I’m spending way too much time edging. It’s addictive, because you edge to build up to a harder, more intense cumshot. But hell, I’m just trying to masturbate less in general. The prolactin rise post-ejaculation is substantial. Even if it doesn’t last long, I feel tired, unmotivated, hungry and lazy. When I go a few days without cumming via jacking off, I feel great with a revived pep in my step.
I don’t feel that way after I fuck my girlfriend. I mean, sure, if we fuck during the day, I want to eat or sleep (or both, in that order) afterwards, but if we fuck at night, I don’t wake up feeling meh; I typically wake up harder than ever. Maybe that’s a biological reaction to the pheromones. I’m not scientifically articulate enough to explain it.
Out of sight; out of mind.
Gary Vaynerchuck (Google is your friend) recently talked about how he doesn’t pay any mind to critics, naysayers, negative shitheels, etc. or worrying about what people think because he’s too busy focusing on his goals and on executing. He stays busy.
This reminds me of what Tim Grover wrote in his book, “Relentless”. The first chapter is titled, “Don’t Think” and it’s about how overthinking kills happiness, drive, etc.
I think staying busy is key.
That’s not to say you don’t enjoy life every once in a while, slowing down enough to smell the roses.
But I’m irritated and feel despicable with myself over this habit every damn morning. My girlfriend will be in bed and here I’ll be in the other room doing what I described in the first couple of paragraphs. It’s bullshit. It’s not right, and I feel bad about it.
I’ve only ever had one bad experience with a girlfriend’s mother. That was with my first love’s. Despite having good experiences before and since, that has stayed with me.
My current girlfriend’s mom, who I genuinely love and she’s treated me like a son she’s never had, told her that she thinks she (my girlfriend) is unhappy. This was because the conversation that preceded that one was about my girlfriend saying that there’s nothing to do around here, where we live. And that’s true. We live in a rural town — my hometown — with a lack of career/job options. I only plan on being here for another couple of years, so that I can complete college and go beyond.
Anyway, I get defensive easily. Sometimes I feel like her mom plays armchair psychologist or acts like a pot stirrer…
My boneheaded, “say what you mean; mean what you say” cracker ass expressed those feelings. Not a great idea.
We didn’t get into a full on fight or anything. Not even an argument. But there was a few, “What do you mean?!” questions from her. Understandably…
I just get annoyed…
Why the fuck would her mom think she’s unhappy?
Actually, my girlfriend says and appears to be happier than ever. Even though she doesn’t make much, she enjoys her job and the people she works with. She’s going out to the movies with them on Wednesday evening, and I couldn’t be happier about that.
If anything, my girlfriend was miserable from September through February, when she lost her old job and was unemployed for five, long, painstaking months that were insanely stressful as she couldn’t find a job anywhere despite applying literally e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e!
Her family is coming in this weekend to visit. I have some anxiety over it.. fuck.
I do wish her mom was a little more like mine… y’know… never gets involved in the relationship. I mean, her mom doesn’t get involved per se, but she just says these little comments that irks the shit out of me. My mother stays totally out of my relationship with my little lady, and that’s the way I love it; I’m sure my little lady appreciates it, too.
I know that mothers will always be protective. My mom is.. I’m all she has, really, as an only child. And it’s especially so for my girlfriend’s mom since they are states away from one another.
But I never want to be in that position of my girlfriend’s mom feeling like I’m not good enough for her or something. I also expressed that opinion last night and my girlfriend flipped the fuck out, telling me that her mother doesn’t feel that way, yet she couldn’t answer me when I asked why the fuck her mom would question her happiness.
I put my girlfriend’s needs before mine as much as I possibly can. She might as well change her name to “Roll” because I can’t stop buttering her up. Then again, it’s the same in reverse sometimes as well for me.
I guess I just want to live to the tune of that song from Boston… “Peace of Mind”… I just want to live peacefully. Please.
Early Sunday morning thoughts while I chug my delicious coffee.
Never marry someone you’ve never argued with or have never gone through difficult times together.
Honeymoon stages of relationships vary in time. A time when everything is all good and there’s no hardships.
But what about when money isn’t there, disposable income sounds like a myth, you disagree on things? Can you effectively communicate with one another and remain level headed? Or are you at each other’s throats, yelling and incapable of rational, mature discussion?
I emitted the same phrase in an online relationships forum and one person told me that my statement was silly. He said that he and his wife had been married for five years and they’ve never had a real argument or spat. My take? Just like I told him in my retort, the exception is not the rule. Besides, I have no idea how this person’s life is. He may be wealthy; they may naturally get along so perfectly there’s no bumps in the road. But that’s rare. Life happens. Life doesn’t plan anything. Life is spontaneous.
Shit happens. There are always bumps in the road. And by the way, when I reference money, I’m not claiming that a large bank account with inordinate disposable income is the be all, end all, because in reality, money isn’t everything, but when you do have money, not having to worry about a healthy meal being on the table every night or worrying about not having life’s essential items is a big plus. You see, while money isn’t everything, when you don’t have it then money is the only thing.
If you’ve never argued or have never gotten into some kind of spat, big or little, with your significant other, you are either delusional or you’ve never faced difficult times.
I say that you go through hell with one another before saying, “I do”. Most of the happiest, longest landing relationships I know, when I’ve asked about their time together, they mention their endurance and perseverance through the most difficult times being the biggest factor in making the relationship work. A relationship shouldn’t be built solely on the good times; the backbone of a relationship should be how mentally and emotionally strong the two of you are and how well you handle adversity as a team. A marriage is a lot like a business. You must sustain it and take care of one another.
I wrote in this post that I was in an online relationship once upon a time. I was. She was my first love. Bekki. It all started in June 2008 in the books & authors section of Yahoo! Answers. Around that time, the Twilight book series was on the rise in popularity. I was 16, a couple months away from turning 17 and starting my senior year of high school. I saw a girl making comical contents about the Twilight series, bashing it sardonically. I thought she was charming. We answered each others questions on the site. She had a link to her MySpace on her profile and I added her.
In late July, I sent her a message entitled, “That Twilight Junk”. It started off with yours truly complaining about the popularity and oversaturation (in society) of the Twilight series. She agreed with me. A common interest (or should I say disinterest?) joined us together. Soon, we were talking about our lives, interests, hopes and dreams. She was 14, and a freshman in high school. Again, I was about to be a senior. She was from Florida; I was/am from a different state.
In October 2008, we started talking on the phone, and it began a daily ritual of us talking every single night (and some days) for two years and two months, all the way up until late December 2010.
Her parents attempted to stop her from talking to me. Looking back, I can see why they did that. She was talking to someone she met online, and they were concerned I was some old man, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Regardless — again, looking back — if I were in their position, I would do the same thing.
Despite her parents doing their best to nix our relationship, she found ways to go behind their back and talk to me every single damn night. It was an amazing time. I still contend — not out loud, but this is the way I feel — that 2008 and 2009 have been the best years of my life so far. She and I had the perfect chemistry. We would talk about every and anything you can imagine. She was a music fanatic, and to this day I still believe she knew more about music than any person I’ve met (that’s not in the music industry).
So, you might be wondering, what happened?
Well, we never met in person.
Looking back, it’s easy to tell what happened. She was young, and still mentally and emotionally growing up. Her parents began to separate in 2010. That’s when Bekki changed, too. Her friends made fun of her for being in an online relationship; I think that was the kiss of death to our relationship, because for a teenage girl, for your peers to make fun of you, that’s huge.
On December 28, 2010 we Skyped for a few hours, everything seemed normal, and then I didn’t hear from her again until September 4, 2011.
Just like that, she ended all contact with me. Do you know how it feels to go from contact each and every single day for two years and about five months to no contact at all?
I had a delayed emotional response to what happened. I didn’t grieve at all in January 2011. I was in shock, I think. I watched the TV series, “Rescue Me” on Netflix, was on a ketogenic diet (bullshit diet; I mean if it works for you, great, but it’s not the best thing ever or anything, which I’ll discuss in a different, future post) and watched the Green Bay Packers steamroll their way to the Super Bowl.
But in February, when I was alone at my aunt’s house, after I finished watching a recent episode of Californication, I began bawling my eyes out, thinking about Bekki and how much I missed her. I genuinely spent the entire month of February 2011 crying. I spent that entire year depressed. There were many days I didn’t want to leave the bed. I was in so much pain.
You might ask, “Well, why didn’t you contact her or check on her? What if something happened to her?” I didn’t want to look her Facebook up or Google her, because I feared the inevitable that she’d gotten with somebody else. I knew she’d ended things a couple days after that fateful day in December 2010, because I’d logged into Skype and saw that she’d set a status, and she logged out when I tried to contact her at that point. That day, I just had a pit in my stomach. In April 2011, I checked again, and she’d once again had a different status/post on Skype.
On September 4, 2011 she sent me a Facebook message that I didn’t see until September 7th. She started out by saying, “Hello, you. I owe you a billion dollars for the damage I caused to your mind and heart”. She told me that she started seeing someone in person in late 2010, and it was a breath of fresh air to have actually been treated nice by her parents.
In hindsight, I should have told her, “Alright. Thank you for explaining to me what happened. I appreciate the closure.” and never spoke to her again. Except… we began talking again. This time, we Skyped every single night until 12:29 AM on December 8th, when she did the same thing as the last time, except this time I knew I’d never hear from her again, and I didn’t.
It’s funny how life turns out. 2012 was a horrific year. My last remaining grandparent — my grandmother; my mom’s mom — died, and I was bitter, angry and carried an awful attitude towards everything. 2013 was a bit better, but unproductive. I was still depressed.
However, I’m over Bekki now. I wanted to write this post today, because I know somewhere out there that another person has gone through hell and back when it comes to a relationship like this. I never talked to anybody about it (outside of my current girlfriend, Dana) for all these years. I just bottled it up and let out the sadness and incandescent rage whenever I was alone.
It’s unfortunate, too, that I never talked to anybody about it (outside of the internet and, again, my current girlfriend, which wasn’t until 2014). 2012 was the lowest point in my life. I remember spending an entire day in my bedroom in 2012 when my family from South Carolina came to visit, and I didn’t even come out to see or talk to them. What an asshole, right? But I was depressed. I’d stay up all night and sleep all day.
Hindsight is always 20/20, but looking back, it’s not surprising how things went down. She was a teenage girl going through the motions of finishing high school and gaining wisdom through experiences. She was evolving and changing fast. Peer pressure is real.
I’m over her now, but the pain put a chokehold on my life, and I wasted a few years of it.
If you would’ve asked me about the year 2011 during the years 2012 or 2013, I would have told you it was an awful year, but now that time has passed and I have a broader perspective, I can genuinely say that 2011 was an amazing year. I had some incredible times with my best friends. We made a horde of memories. However, when 2011 was occurring, I wasted a lot of time being depressed over Bekki. Even in 2010, I was so concentrated on making her happy when her parents were separating that I missed out on some awesome experiences.
Now, 2012 and 2013 were still atrocious, wasted years, but 2011 was not as bad as I originally felt it was.
I’m in a better place now. I’ve been with my girlfriend, Dana, for over two years and six months. We, too, met online. Hell, I met Dana on Lush Stories, an erotica website! We encountered one another on there right before my grandmother passed away in 2012, but we didn’t become close until January 2014. I was truly an asshole in 2012. I didn’t know how to process my emotions, and I shut a lot of people out.
It’s funny how things work out… I met Dana on Lush, she was from a different state, we met officially on August 3, 2014 and then in May 2015, I visited her and her family, and now? We live together. Dana moved in with me on June 6, 2016.
If everything that happened with Bekki never occurred, I would have probably never met Dana.
I’m not religious, but count your blessings, folks. I’m not an “everything happens for a reason” type of guy, but those past events led me to today.
Another thing: I originally started college in the fall of 2009 at a community college. I allowed myself to be distracted by my relationship with Bekki and didn’t prioritize my classes. I ended up not going to my classes and I never properly dropped them. I didn’t re-enroll in 2010. After almost five years of inactivity, I returned to the same community college in 2014 and I’ve taken my paltry 1.9 GPA and moved it up to a 3.3/borderline 3.4.
Why does the post title say not to let a failed relationship hinder your future even though I wrote that I wouldn’t be where I am today without the aforementioned past events? Well, I still mean what I titled the post with.
Even though who I am today is derived from the past, I still wasted years of my life. Even though I said I had some awesome times in 2011, there was never any growth in regards to something to expand on in my life. I didn’t accomplish a single, solitary thing in 2012 and 2013. In the first eight months of 2014, I didn’t accomplish jack squat either.
I used to want those years back, so that I could rectify ’em, but I can’t.
That’s why I say to not let a failed relationship hinder your future.
Once the relationship is dead, in your mind the other person should be dead to you, as well. That’s not sound mean or macabre, but when it’s over, it’s over. A breakup is called a breakup because it’s broken. No matter what happens, the world keeps spinning. The roosters keep cockle-doodle-dooing. Life is short and there are so many experiences and lessons to be learned and had.
It took so long for me to get over Bekki because 1.) she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen, and 2.) we had incredible chemistry. But I looked her up a couple weeks ago and saw that she now has two children. A daughter that’s a few years old, and now a newborn son from a different man. She might be doing well in her professional career, but it looks like I dodged a bullet, since I know who she turned out to be (I don’t know now, but in 2010 and 2011 she was a molecular structured liar and cheater).
If I would have stayed with Bekki, I would have had a tumultuous relationship with the in-laws. Fortunately, Dana’s family loves me to death and her parents treat me as if I was her son. They are so sweet o me. They actually gave me their old smoker for Christmas, to cook incredible barbecued meats and bacon-wrapped, cheese stuffed jalapenos in.
Go through hell in life. Experience it. But don’t let a past, failed relationship hold you back for as long as I allowed mine to do me.