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Tex Commando

I'm not angry, just outspoken

Tag Archives: Mental Health

My hope is that I’ll get it all out of the way in advance of her arrival. That might not happen, though. What might end up happening is that momentum thing that I talked about a few months ago. Maybe I’ll get rolling talking about my Ladyfriend Lovergirl and not be able to stop. Oh well, that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

#2 is a realization I had back in February. It caused a minor mental crisis until my oh-so-candid friends talked me down off the ledge. Now, after having realization #1, this one is in my mind once again. Are you tired of all the lead-up to my crazy thoughts? Welcome to my head.

I’m going to get to see and talk to best friend in the whole wide world whom I love spending time with and we will be living in the same house and I’ll get to see her WHENEVER I WANT!!!

This is a good thing! I can honestly say that there has never been a time that I haven’t loved spending time with Brandi. (Well, there was that one time at the park when our kids were little, but that doesn’t count.) There is never a dull moment when we are together. Now, with love involved, our moments are even better.

Are you wondering where the need to talk me down off the freak out ledge comes in?

I have other friends too. I do fun, impromptu things with them on the days there are no children at home with me. Things like drunk knitting with my Wednesday ladies. Or sushi. Or inviting myself over to a friend’s house when she tells me she is cooking latkes. Or a day trip to go yarn shopping (don’t laugh at me, I love this kinda thing) Still don’t see the problem?

Am I going to keep doing that? Of course I won’t always just run off with my friends. I will have a relationship to maintain. The problem is that I don’t see myself doing anything but staying home with Brandi. I see myself always choosing to spend time with her. I see the potential to get completely wrapped up in Brandi and losing Tex.

This has everything to do with how intense my feelings for her are. I’m sure the fact that we have always lived so far away from each other and only saw each other once or twice a year for so many years has something to do with it too. I know the ‘honeymoon’ will end. Eventually we will get used to being able to see and talk to each other IN PERSON. EVERYDAY. Life will become normal. The intensity will wane.

But I don’t want it to.

So, promise me something. Will you?

Promise me that if I don’t hang out with you for awhile you won’t be mad at me. Promise me that you will keep trying to include me in things even if I say no for a few months. Promise me that you will tell me if I am neglecting you. Also, promise me that you won’t think it’s weird if Brandi hangs out with us too. She’s an excellent person. You’ll love her. AND?! She doesn’t drink. I have my own built-in DD.

OK, that’s it. Today I get the keys to our place. I can’t wait!!!

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So, what’s new?

Nothing much here.

Unless you want to call kicking ass in all three of the -ology classes I’m taking, working, being mom, maintaining a long distance relationship, getting ready to move, and knitting, nothing.

Oh! Did I mention that I’m going to start doing yoga again, too?

It’s stressful and exciting. If I think about it too much I get overwhelmed, but it’s exciting so I think about it. So then I get stressed, and excited all over again. (It’s hard living inside my head sometimes)

And the long distance relationship thing. It fucking sucks. I don’t  know how people can do this long-term. I can hardly make it through the next four weeks. Shit! The next four hours would be too long. UGH.

I’m a tiny bit obsessed with talking about Brandi to my coworkers anyone who are my captive audience will listen. By tiny, I mean a tiny bit of my conversations are about anything but My B.

Soooooo… since you are still reading, AND I mentioned Brandi, allow me to tell you a few things about her.

  • Did you know that My Brandi is a writer? Of course you knew that. OF COURSE you knew about her blog. What? You didn’t know that she has one? It’s imperative that you stop what you’re doing RIGHT THIS MINUTE and get over there. Give yourself a few hours (days) and read every post and every comment. Oh. My. God. I don’t go back and re-read things I have already read, but I was doing it tonight, and I laughed out loud at least eighty million times. She’s funny. And I’m not saying that because I love her. Start here, at the grocery store. Next, take a trip to your local YMCA. If you don’t LOL, you are a humorless idiot who shouldn’t be allowed to breathe . (I could link you to a ton of these awesome gems of hilarity, but I need to get on with this homage to My Brandi so I can call her.)
  • She is a smart lady. She knows things. Not only does she know things, she can have intelligent, thought-provoking conversations about things. All kinds of things. Next time you see her, ask her about something controversial like, euthanasia or late-term abortion. You’re sure to have an interesting conversation.
  • She is a good listener. For some reason, people feel safe talking to her. I know I do. I always have. Maybe it goes back to her being smart and able to carry on thoughtful conversations. But she’s open minded and doesn’t judge (much).
  • She has the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever had the pleasure to gaze into. That fact is true. You can see for yourself next time you see her. But the real truth behind this fact is that she has turned me into a mushy ball of mush. This one isn’t so much about her as it is about what she has done to me. Love letters? Check. Paper chains with little messages written on them counting down significant events? Check. Sweet goodnight video messages every night before I go to sleep? Check. Songs that make me cry tears of happiness because they describe perfectly how I feel about My Brandi? Check. And I have only scratched the surface on this one.

I guess the point of this whole thing is to say that I’m doing fine. Life is hectic, but exciting. I miss My Brandi.

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It’s the time of the year where a million friends get together for a week of fun and food and sand and fires and nakedness and drinking. Ok, well not everyone gets naked and drunk. Ok, to be fair, the nakedness was in the dark. Wait. That doesn’t sound better does it? UMMMMM……nevermind.

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Everyone should have a B. What’s so great about having a B, you ask? I’ll tell you. That’s why I am sitting here NOT eating my pita chips and hummus and NOT drinking my wine. So I can tell you.

  • A good B will challenge the fuck out of you. If you’re lucky. My B always keeps me on my toes. I can’t NOT be excellent or at least want to be excellent when I am around My B. 
  • A good B will encourage you like there’s no tomorrow. Any B worth a shit will encourage you and encourage you and help you feel like you can conquer the world.
  • A good B will make you laugh at your ridiculousness AND be ridiculous right along with you. When My B and I are sharing the same space, there is always much laughing. Sometimes so much laughing that my face hurts. That’s the BEST!
  • A good B will communicate. How else would someone like ME know how to treat a B like mine? Communication.
  • A good B will accept you, freckles, scars, and all. B appreciates what’s inside. B sees what’s in your heart. B accepts all of it and finds beauty in it.

Ok. So there you have it. Do you have a B?  What does your B do for YOU?

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When your 17 year old realizes that she’s very much like you, and is happy about it.

 

Despite all the strife of the past month, I can die a happy mom now.

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I have been trying to see how long I can go without blogging. I blame Brandi for ruining my streak because since she linked this blog to her latest blog post about boobs, naked hot-tubbing, and being licked by yours truly, I feel the need to give you all something current to read.

So, I had a great time at BGW. Although this one didn’t have drag queens or strippers, and the only gams there were my own, and no one accidentally got drunk (they were all intentional), I must say this one was the best.

Once again, I discovered that the things that annoy me about my friends are more annoying when I spend 7 days with them. I’m sure the feeling was reciprocal. AND that the people I thought would annoy me the most weren’t annoying at all. They were delightfully wonderful.

I learned that I like being french and subsisting on wine, cheese, and crusty bread. I actually do it well.


 I discovered that I am a ‘sister lover’. As much as I love my girlfriends, I love their sisters too. Who else has a sister that I can steal?

I look ridiculous with gigantic boobs.



Brandi’s cheek tastes perfumey.

14 women in a house for a week can come up with some crazy shit.

I can’t wait to see all you mofos naked again next year!

 

 

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I just realized that I’m ovulating. OUCH! My left ovary is hurting. Its a weird feeling.

Know what’s also weird? I’m falling apart. Like, I have piles of undone shit all over my room. Other shit needs to get done, but I can’t get it together enough to do ANYTHING.

Why? I was on top of the world in January. I had my shit together in January, and now, I’m all fucked up. It’s actually quite overwhelming. The suck thing is that there are 8 million things to do and I sit here, looking around, trying to figure out which one to do first. But, instead of actually doing something, I pace from pile to pile or task to task accomplishing nothing because all of them are important and I can’t figure out which one to just DO. Then I feel like a loser because- goddamn! Why can’t I just be productive? And THIS is the source of my lack of motivation and blah. So now what?

It’s annoying. And the minutes are ticking by. And in a couple more hours, my kids will be home and then I can forget about everything else because they need food and rides and directions. I’d better go.

 

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I have been composing a self loathing, body image hating blog post for the past two days. It’s icky. I’m not even sure I will post it because it’s that icky and uncomfortable.

Instead, I’ll post something else that’s worse.

Someone you don’t want to know: Helen just asked for “some of those delicious brown pussies” for snack.

Me: Wow! The Smiths really do love the colored folks, don’t they? Lolololololol

Someone: We do. I don’t know why people always say I’m racist. I drive all the way to (somewhere an hour away) for brown pussies.

Me: This is going on my blog.

Someone: Good. One of us should post a blog. Lord knows I haven’t lately.

Me: Haha. As soon as I get home I will. This is better than the one that I’m writing now. It’s depressing and self loathing. I’d rather picture you and your daughter eating brown pussies.

Someone: You’re a sick woman. (And it was my daughter and my SON eating brown pussies. Brown pussies are too sweet for me.)

Me: Oh. My bad. Your son and daughter eating pussy together is way better.

Someone: Exactly.

the brown pussies

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I’m funny.

I’m clever.

I’m cool.

I’m bold.

I’m full of energy.

I don’t gossip.

I don’t give a shit.

In reality

I stay annoyed when I should just tell you that you bug the shit outta me.

I try too hard.

I don’t try hard enough.

I talk about people.

I worry that I don’t do enough.

I get overwhelmed and shut down.

I’m lazy.

Is your reality really real? Is the story you are telling yourself really the truth? And now, as I sit here and write those two questions, I question my own perception of my thoughts and reality. Damn! I really need to get out of my brain.

(How many times does one person really need to say really?)

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It’s also not shutting up.

Does that ever happen to you? You keep having the same recurring thought when you don’t want to. Don’t you hate that? I hate when I start thinking about something I don’t want to think about  but can’t make myself not think about it. Then, when I realize that I’m not thinking about that thing, I feel satisfied at my ability to not think about that thing. Unfortunately, that feeling of self-satisfaction is immediately erased by self-loathing because once again, I am thinking about the very thing that I wanted to NOT think about.

I wonder what is triggering these thoughts. I guess it’s time for some brainwork to figure out what the trigger is so I can stop it.

What thoughts do you have that torment you?

 

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