Chat With An Ex

Nope. Not boyfriend. My meth dealer.

I’m four years clean. I walked away by leaving behind family, friends and everything I was comfortable with to pursue a healthier lifestyle across the country. I wanted desperately to be free from hard drugs but knew if I stayed in Winnipeg I would be plagued by them or dead. Or in jail. Whatever the options were? I wasn’t interested.

I left it behind.

I learned today that shortly after I left Winnipeg my primary meth dealer was arrested. He spent time in jail and cleaned up.

Mikey was a lifetime (since teenage) meth junkie. He was shooting meth with needles when I met him. Same age as I was but he hadn’t gone more than a couple months without his drug since 16. I was new to it. He taught me all kinds of things about smoking. Educated me on venues that sold meth pipes. Sold to me in bulk.

I sold weed, he sold meth. Sometimes we would trade. Other times he cut me a deal because I was roomies with a prostitute he sold to and it was easier to sell to me bulk and have me take care of her (and her gal pals) than deal with their calls however many times they earned a twenty.

He was really good to me as far as drug dealers go. Always gave me extra personal. Gave me deals, gave me customers he didn’t want to deal with which meant I smoked more for free. Excellent dealer.

When I walked away from that life I left behind knowing a lot of people.

But today I talked with Mikey. He’s been clean shortly less than I have. He has a good job and he is doing well. And we still cross a distance of miles but I am so happy we can be friends who talk to each other.

It’s years later but I really feel like I have someone I can talk to about that past. Someone who doesn’t judge. Someone who can tell me about their struggle. Someone who knew me at my absolute worst. And knows the struggle. And still loves me.

I am so glad I got to chat with him.

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I’m Not Stupid

I was praised as a child because of my intellectual abilities. If you count standardized testing (I personally don’t put a whole lot of faith in that) I tested in the top 3% of the country as a child. I always passed exams and often received honour awards for grades, etc. without putting in a lot of effort. I never believed I was the smartest cookie in the room but I was confident I was intelligent.

I went to Bible College, not university, but I chose as many electives courses outside of Bible curriculum so I could be versed in things beyond Bible. I’m not ‘educated’ by the worlds standards but I took the time to learn a lot of things on my own.

Making your way in the work force without an education is difficult. However I had worked from the time I was a teenager. My first job after college was as a cashier at a dollar store but I worked my way up. When I couldn’t go further? I found a different job with room for movement. I used my brains to work my way up at every job. I went from retail to office. Grunt work to management in every job. When I got sick and had to leave to work force? I was the Director of Administration for an international software company.

I’m not stupid.

However, I’ve been out of the world of having to really ‘think’ for a long time. And I feel like I am losing some cognitive skills. I question my own brain, get confused and sometimes I am wrong. Even knowing my own issues about myself I still like to feel smart.

I have something weighing heavily on my mind.

More than a week ago my BF and I were looking at the prices of something on Amazon. I pointed out some info about subscription price vs. one-off price, etc. He told me I was wrong. That my price comparison to the same amount of product in the store was wrong. I made an attempt to explain what I meant and he got so angry. He belittled me and called me a moron. Told me I just didn’t understand.

While that was happening? I used my phone to look the information up. I knew I was right. And instead of just fighting it out I shut up and let him say horrible things. I didn’t want to push it right then because I was nervous how he would react.

Instead I gently brought it up the next day to let him know that we could in fact get the better deal from Amazon.

Again he freaked out. He made the entire situation about me ‘being right’ and needing to prove it. He got angry and we didn’t talk for almost a week.

Since then we have talked about other things, gone about life and been our usual selves. But this issue was never resolved. And I don’t know how to bring it up again without creating uncomfortable chaos in my home.

I mean, I don’t give a flying fuck who was right. I pointed it out so he knew we could get the deal and show him how it worked. I don’t care that I was correct.

But his reaction to being shown that reminded me I DO care that I was treated like shit and belittled and made to feel like nothing. Instead of getting angry and ignoring me for days on end? What would have been nice would be an apology for calling me a moron and making me feel stupid.

I’m NOT stupid!

Caught

I was having an argument with him the other night about a week. I took to the couch (not the bed) and I was watching my Netflix addictions. Thinking he was sleeping.

I got so horny. It came over me. Like, SOOOO horny!

We’d argued. So rather than turn to him? I turned to porn. And not just porn. I went taboo. Nothing I would ever do but somehow watching something that off colour strikes something in me. TOTAL taboo. So taboo I won’t even say it in my blog.

He awoke (or just got out of bed) and his only comment upon catching me? “NICE” Then he went for a drive and came back to let me know we are only roommates. He encouraged me to pursue others.

I felt dirty. I always feel dirty about that one fantasy. I’ve never entertained the reality, nor would I. And his reaction was so… well,

I feel ashamed. Like, totally.

But not because I feel I did anything wrong. I feel shame because the person I trusted to accept everything, the one who said all I need to do is tell him truth and he would accept? He made me feel shameful.

What do I do with that?

 

What About Trust?

**NOTE: I started writing this weeks ago. WEEKS. I’ve been wrestling with it. We’ve argued about it and made up/broke up since. So it starts weeks ago. Others have been written since so I feel a bit backtracking… I’ll note when it changes to ‘current’.**

All he’s ever told me was he wants honesty. Truth. I shouldn’t hide things from him. He could handle whatever I had to say except a lie!

I picked up his phone.  He went into the bank, and while I was bored, I grabbed his phone. I often use his phone to play my games. I have the password. So I don’t feel as though I violated privacy.

When I unlocked his phone to play my game? It was on POF. He had recent messages and I never read them.

We both had POF accounts while apart. I took mine down (RIP POF) .

When we got back together? He made his profile ‘private’. He paid for the service so I guess ‘private’ is different. I don’t know. I thought if you hid your profile you didn’t get new messages. So ‘hiding’ the profile was fine. I never figured he was looking around.

I have declined contact with many people I met through there. Any I keep contact with are aware I am monogamous and they never press the issue. Legit friends!

But he saw the first paragraph of this blog as I was writing it. He’s smart. He figured out I saw he had POF messages.

Next day he mentioned POF casually and told me he didn’t know why he still got messages. He chalked it up to not really knowing. He made a point of showing me where it says his profile is turned off.  “I don’t know why I still get messages” was the explanation.

Not much later I was playing my game and a pop-up came along that she messaged him again. And I read it. I invaded his messages. I feel like I am a horrible person for invading his privacy. I’ve never read his messages before unless he said I could.

Except? It wasn’t long ago he was reading my emails and Facebook, without my permission, to see what I was saying to people. He called me on some shit and I changed my ways. If he can invade my privacy like that? Tit for tat.

When we got back together? I took down all my profiles. I stopped making dates. I told people who were friends that I was with him and monogamy was important.

But? I saw his phone again. After he tried to tell me it was just some random message. After he showed me he DOES have his profile turned off! Except the message WASN’T random.  As of when I saw the message? He told her she wasn’t too far to drive to meet. He also proactively messaged another to say, ‘hey, we never did get that coffee’.

If he wants other women? He should have them! I have never discouraged that. I only gave up my own options because I thought he wanted monogamy. He can’t stand the idea of another man touching me.

I DID want to be with him. I am hurt he is obviously pursuing another woman while telling me I am his only. I am hurt he lies to me while calling me a liar. I am angry he is hiding it while being morally self-righteous about me and calling me names, like slut.

All he asked of me was honesty. I’ve been giving that and living that because I committed to him. I have been all in. I also committed to myself that I will not jump on the next dick to come along just because he hurts me. I’ve been true to my word! Most importantly to ME.

If he wants to pursue other adventures? All I want is to know. I get hurt by the hidden, not by the actions. Just tell me. Allow me the same. Share the experiences. Stop calling me a slut for the same behaviour.

However we didn’t talk about it. I thought we were ‘not seeing other people’. I told any other prospect I wasn’t going to meet them. I cut off anyone who was being too persistent and made it clear I only wanted friendship.

**OK. We’re a couple weeks later. We fought and argued about it. He kept telling me I am not trustworthy while invading my email/Facebook messages and questioning me on every word to every person. He also deleted and blocked some of my friends. And told me he wants out.***

Then we kind of half made up. It was the sex. I even told him I felt unsexy but he told me he’d make me feel it. He really made love to me. He asked, after, if I felt okay with it. I gave him the replies I thought he needed to hear. But, I still felt unsexy.

Then we fought again. He went behind my back to read my messages. He read innocent things I easily explained. So I started deleting everything. Then it became about me deleting things?

WHAT? He had already deleted everything and every password/profile from the computer. But I am the one hiding things? Pot, Kettle.

But we fought hard. We are not a couple. Too many horrible things were said to me to forgive them. I won’t give him cause to call me the things he said in that horrific text. I can’t even embarrass myself to share his words. How disgusting he makes me feel.

Still? I told him I will be respectful until either of us leave. We’re being civil. I think it would be easier for me to find a place and I want to make sure he has a place so I am wanting to leave him mine.

I feel misled.

We were working on things. I had given him full access to read things. His lack of trust led him to misinterpret things I let him read. His anger/temper led him to treat me badly. In the end? And it is the end. I cannot forgive what he said yesterday. It went too far and I can never trust him to love me again.

I’ll keep him around and we can take care of each other until we find a way to make our way on our own. But I am still barely surviving his words. Too hurt to even share them. Humiliated and shameful for something I never did.\

He may not trust I’m being faithful. I will never trust a loving word that ever comes out of his mouth again.

 

Letters From Home

I received a personal letter recently. I write more letters than I receive. I was surprised. And it was from my dad (the adopted one, not the dead one) who never writes letters. I was super anxious when I opened it.

I thought it would be some kind of reprimand. What did he read in my blog? I mean, I don’t think he reads blogs. Pretty sure he barely gets email. But I was curious what he had to say that was so important a pen went to paper and a stamp went to envelope.

It was deeply personal. I won’t share his personal stuff but he explained a lot of things about himself that he felt led him to make mistakes in his life. In particular? He apologized for how those issues led to ‘damaging my generous and beautiful spirit’. And he said he would be grateful if I could forgive him.

It was super emotional. And my reply to him doesn’t expose anything he told me, really, so I will share it with you before I mail it.

Dear Daddy,

I got your letter a few days ago and have been taking some time to reflect before I respond.

Thank you so much for the gift. I was timely for sure. My rent doubles in July/August so September is recovery mode. I had all my bills paid but things were stretched so your gift really helped.

Thank you for sharing about your life and the things that shaped the person you were and who you’ve become.

Thank you for your apology. Know that you have my forgiveness for however you feel you wronged me.

I knew we didn’t have a lot of money when I was a child. But I never saw THAT as holding back anything. I never felt like my needs weren’t met. I saw my dad as hard-working, who did whatever he needed to for his family to get by.

If hindsight is 20/20 and you see now things could have been different? All I have in my heart is happiness for you that your years of hard work are being rewarded.

Being poor taught me to work hard at as many jobs necessary to make ends meet. It taught me to make meals instead of buying pre-fab food. It taught me used clothing is great. Now I find vintage amazing clothes at second hand stores.

If I didn’t grow up how I did monetarily? I would not be able to survive how I live now. And I make ends meet with a few treats. So I don’t just survive, dad, I’m content.

….

There is more to the letter.

Six pages later? I told my daddy so many things.

I told him where I think things went wrong for me.

I needed psychiatric medical help. The psychiatrist I went to? Turned out my parents ‘could tell’ he was a homosexual so they wouldn’t let me go back. I was told to talk to my pastor when I needed serious medical attention mentally.

My pastor was an excellent mathematician. He was an actuary before he quit that to pastor a church. Very intelligent. But a horrible psychiatrist. Instead of being able to talk to him about my sexual issues? I was hauled into his office, as the principal of my school, and told I was lazy.

The daydreaming? Constantly holding up class with my questions? Being stubborn about doing homework I thought was irrelevant? They were all my way of avoiding real schoolwork. I was lazy. Official diagnosis.

How different would I be now if I had gotten help then?

I wrote about my socialization. How I was damaged by being forced to attend such a small school (I did ask my parents if I could go to a different one, public). And then I was thrust into complicated social situations, with no clue how to deal with them. It was awkward and terrifying to me. I already struggled with mental health issues yet to be addressed.

I told him that at least college taught me to ask questions again. In asking them? I learned about the faith I was brought up in. In my required Bible classes? I learned so much history that I started going to the library to compare Biblical history VS the history books I never got to read in my private Christian school.

Christianity stopped making sense for me.

I started taking only the Bible classes required. All my electives became psychology, sociology and journalism so I could learn to communicate better. My field study was drama so I could explore being creative.

I told my dad I am myself pagan now.

The long and the sort of it is I don’t feel like you did me any wrong except for what happened at the hands of “Christianity”. YOU loved me and acted with your best intentions for the well-being of your family.

I love you, dad. I forgive you for whatever you think you did to damage me…..

You mentioned sadness. That comes with age. If you find the time? I really want to know what makes you sad. What are your regrets? All of them. I don’t need details. But I am someone who suffers with depression. Knowing others sadness helps. I could learn from it, maybe?

So I’m gonna close now. I feel like I could write pages more and maybe sometime soon I will. Thank you for your letter, Papa. I love you so much.

Your Chosen Daughter,

Shaunda

 

 

 

Humpty Dumpty

‘Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a big fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.’

Someone I respect recently told me:

Just because his broken pieces seem to fit your broken pieces doesn’t mean you will put humpty dumpty back together again.

Obviously, a broken egg cannot be put back together. Sometimes a relationship reaches a point where it cannot be put back together. I think that is my friends point. A broken egg can’t be fixed.

But I like to think outside the box.

A broken egg? Can still be useful. Fry one up and put it in a sandwich and you know it is true 🙂

Two broken eggs? They can still come together to make something awesome. An omelette, perhaps.

I put sincere thought into my friends opinion (I asked for it). I understand his comparison to Humpty Dumpty. It’s why I have been trying to take everything in my relationship with stride.

But if I were to take that comparison to another level?

When you put two broken people together who are each working individually to be better people? Sometimes there is a lot of other emotional stuff added. It gets confusing.

But, aren’t emotions what give life ‘flavour’?

We’re taking our Humpty Dumpty brokenness and turning into an omelette with every flavour of every emotion. Yes, we are both scared. But we are moving forward both separate and together (a first for us).

You can’t put broken back together. You can take only take what is broken and make it into something spectacular and new.

 

 

Ashamed

Yep, I’ve been seeing my ex. He stays with me most of the time. We still have some things to work on but we are working on them. We have a lot of things that were issues between us before that we have resolved. However, there are some things that linger.

This morning as he left he mentioned a lil’ anecdote. His boss’s wife came outside the other morning while he was waiting around to get going. She mentioned she heard he had a new girlfriend. He told her ‘sort of’.

Her reply? “As long as it’s not that Shaunda girl.”

When he told me the words kind of struck me. ‘As long as it’s not me?’ And it made me cry. It felt hurtful. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about that woman in our community. I have only ever said kind things about her and been grateful she helped my ex when he needed.

Who the fuck is she to say anything like, ‘as long as it’s not Shaunda’?

He felt bad for upsetting me on his way out the door. His attempt at reassurance? “It’s only because she has read your blog.” I think he meant it to be humorous and I reacted poorly by crying more.

First off? I call bullshit on that. He worked for her husband at the time him and I split. I am sure she knows all the nasty things he said (hard drug addicted, cheating whore) in addition to my blog. She’s heard a more of his side than he lets on. That’s fine. Just, let’s be real.

Secondly, how does reading my blog give anyone the right to judge me? Do they think they are better than me because I embrace my sexuality? Because I admit my failures like alcoholism? Because I have mental health issues that make me ‘difficult’?

I struggled all day with why that quick conversation made me feel so much pain.

We all fail sometimes. Not one person is perfect. I have spent a long time overcoming shame. I meet people who read my blog and they think it is awesome I can be this open. My therapist thinks my sharing everything so ‘raw’ is what is helping overcome things like religious abuse and other life trauma.

I was so angry and hurt about her comment. I dwelled on it a lot. However, I realize now it was because I needed to understand the source of the pain.

I’ve given up  being ashamed of who I am. I am not interested in people who judge me. I’ve been letting judgement roll off me back. So WHY was I letting this stranger’s comment get to me?

I was comedic when I alluded to it in You Can Call Me.

It took me a while to determine it today because I don’t want to admit this. I told my BF I would give him time for us to figure things out. I also want to have time to figure shit out.

But when he told me about it he laughed their conversation off. He assured her it wasn’t me. I’m still a dirty secret.

It’s beginning to bother me a lot that some other woman is getting credit for the dinners he takes pictures of. She’s the reason he has lunches and clean clothes and a place to stay. As long as it’s not Shaunda.

And it bothers me that for all the times I have been called a liar? I’m not worth being honest about.

So why doesn’t he admit it? I went over and over that today. We decided to keep this quiet (even though I put it in my blog). There is judgement from both sides but when I have been asked about him? I admit we are working on things.

Why doesn’t he admit to me? He is ashamed of me.

He’s mentioned before that my sexual escapades while we were apart made him feel like a chump. He said a lot of things about me while we were apart. Maybe he’s ashamed to go back to ‘that’ girl.

When it comes to his boss’ wife? He says she has read my blog. That means he cares what they know, what they have seen and what they think. I don’t.

I gave up allowing people to judge me. I’ve worked on letting go of that for over a year now and I have been doing well.

*UPDATE: it’s been four days since I started this blog and I still can’t describe what I am feeling correctly

I still have no idea how I feel about this. I’m not angry like I was when I heard it. I am not hurt or crying. I am simply trying to determine how and why this strangers comment, overheard by gossip, became such a menace to my thoughts.

And shame. I need to know how I feel about another person’s shame about me when I have fought so hard to overcome shame about myself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shaunda The Hut

eating naked

So, yes, when I sit naked on the couch? My skin from weight loss pools around me and I become some Jabba the Hut like figure that I hate having pictures taken of.

And when I take of my bra and lay on my back? Those tits run and hide under my armpits.

What I am really trying to say is my body isn’t pretty naked. But I’m okay with that.

I have a man in my life who has this incredible body. He’s lean and muscular. Six pack abs. Nice big dick. Tight ass. And skin that is so golden. I want to see him naked all the time.

And I sit here all Jabba-like while he covers up. WTF?

He told me today he envies my confidence. He can’t even take out the garbage without putting on a shirt when I would go out topless if I thought I could get away with it. Probably bottomless as well. On a lazy day.

So what is it about self image?

I am always surprised at his lack of confidence. He needs to cover up every part before he sees the world when I think the world would rather see him in a bit less. How can someone with this body NOT want to be seen?

magnificent dick n abs

Yet, here I sit all fat n flabby but perfectly happy with my body the way it is.

Should I be a bit healthier? Yep, and I work on it. But I don’t do it to be thinner. I don’t do it to make clothes fit better. And I show off my everything on a webcam when I have the chance. I am body confident.

I have no idea how that happened. Feels like a reverse role in some ways. The girl reassuring the guy it’s okay to show off his body.

I like it. I wish more people felt it was okay to be themselves exactly the way they are.

 

You Can Call Me….

I’ve always had a thing for role playing. This is similar but with a narcissistic, cunty edge.

I’ve blogged about being back seeing my ex. I don’t make that public on Facebook or to my family, etc. (except I post my blog to Facebook so a few people do catch it) Him and I agreed to keep it quiet. We have our reasons. And for the most part we are keeping our reunion on the down low.

I’m pretty sure he is concerned about his living situation or maybe work if he were to make it known who he is with. Things he said about me when we were apart make it difficult for him to justify coming back to me. My own actions make that difficult. I understand his position.

So he let’s everyone think he is dating a girl he met on a dating site. I’ve seen her pic. It is someone he actually met. I know her name.

It’s all okay with me for the most part. We both dated and met people while apart. Because we want to keep things under the radar for now it seems realistic that he would allow them to believe he is still dating her.

But there is this tiny little bug of jealousy. I’m not jealous of the idea of him being with her. I’m jealous that since he has been seeing me? He gets his laundry done, packed lunches, etc…  and she is getting my fucking credit. LOL

I do that! I make his lunch. I wake up each morning and make him coffee. I make sure his clothes get washed. He does a lot for me in return but that is not the point at the moment. She is being seen as the ‘woman behind the man’ right now. And I guarantee if he was actually with her? She wouldn’t be packing his lunch.

So last night I did something I have never done. It was kind of a role play. In my head I figured if she is getting my credit? Then he can call her name while fucking me. And I made him do that.

Is that twisted?

I won’t lie, I found it a bit hot. He was totally uncomfortable with it which sort of made me more hot about it. I felt in control. I felt like I could at least take back that part that was bugging me by making him face it during sex.

Yes. That’s kinda twisted I suppose.

I felt better about the situation after. I no longer care they think I am her.

But I’m interested to see how long it takes for him to be able to get real with the people around him.

My Teddy Bear

The great thing about dating several men, or having friends with benefits, is you can have all your needs met.

For example? Pussy Pro comes over, eats and fingers me while he is jerking off and then cums on me wherever he wants. It’s a certain kind of relationship that will only ever be that. I have another friend who likes to talk to me about all my dirty escapades. He likes the details and calls me his good lil’ slut. Good whore. I like to talk super trashy with him and I have plans to do very very sick things with him when he returns from his training stuff.

Then there is my Teddy Bear. He puts the ‘friends’ in friends with benefits. We met once while I was on another date and he happened to be in the same park. I knew I wanted to hang out with him again. He came to my place and hung out with me while I had a friend here so we had the chance to spend time together without the pressure of sex.

Last night? He came over to hang out with our first chance at privacy.

We both knew where the night was going to go. Still, we spent quite a bit of time listening to music, watching some comedy and talking about every subject imaginable. We have a connection. Same twisted humour, same views on sexuality. He reads my blog and knows he isn’t the only guy in my life. It’s fine because his situation is an open relationship. He doesn’t have a sense of jealousy about my other fun times. We talk very candidly about all of that. He told me establishing the intimacy is important to him. Sex gets better if you really know your partner.

So? He’s my intimacy guy. When I need someone to just come over, listen to me blabber on about things that probably bore them and then have really good sex? (yes, it was really good sex) He’s the one.

I really enjoy his company. He’s built like a football player so I feel really tiny in his arms. We laugh at the same things. Like the same movies/music.  And he’s quick to just put his arms around me and keep them there. Thus, my Teddy Bear.

Variety is bliss! Now… time to get ready for my date today LOL