Swears A Lot (my new Indian name)

I had the worst medical experience today, and mainly because I was alone.  I won't go into the gory details of it, but it was piss poor in quality and I left crying, shaking, and barely able to drive --- and now I'm way to the hell sedated.

But I did drive. Because nobody's going to drive my sorry ass home but me.  And I get that I'm feeling sorry for myself and that that's unbecoming.  It's just that for so long I've dated (on and almost always ridiculously off) a guy who claims to love me so much and want to be there for me and blah blah blah all this bullshit.  I have no doubt that he believes it in his own head where for the most part he lives as opposed to in the real world where people have to actually do things in order to gain certain effects, and that's great and all, but if thoughts don't translate into deeds then for me all we have here is a heaping pile of horseshit.

2012 is rapidly approaching and the time to start fresh couldn't be more apparent.  Dysfunctional patterns need to be left behind for good.  I have been trapped within an in-and-out fucked up situation that has played upon my good nature and very nearly turned me into someone who could accost people.  This runs counter to me being an avatar.  Hence, this needs to change.

It's made me miss my ex-husband, hell, both of them, because at least they backed up their words with action and at least they gave it their all, no holds barred.  Sometimes things don't work and that's just how it is.  But they were stand up guys all the way around.  A hardworking warehouseman and a fighter pilot/lawyer.  These men did all they could to make me smile.  I miss men like that.  I refuse to settle for less than a man who gives me that.  Men who make me cry are so motherfucking yesterday.

One thing I can say, though, is that it hasn't fucked with my self-esteem or my confidence.  I know I am all that, I know that I have skills, talents, gifts, attractive qualities, you name it.  I'm a writer and one of my books is almost done and it will publish because goddamn, I'm opening my own publishing house.  The other will come out after that, but not long after that, because it's all part of a program I am creating with my best friend WHO WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME TO GET A FUCKED UP BIOPSY ON MY OWN and it will be successful.

I know I am sweet, charming, demure, spiritual, appropriately effusive and a whole lot of other very rad fucking things.  I won't have a problem out there in the real world where dudes are actually inclined in some sustainable way to be in a relationship where they are an active participant, participating with a merry heart.

I deserve the best and the good news is that we all do. The bad news is that most of us settle for utter horseshit, for less of a life, for half-measure mates and for sex lives that resemble a drought.  This is not cool.  I'm alive and who knows for how much longer?  And I want to live with energy, grace and most of all, ferocity.

I did this shit alone today and it sucked.  And yeah I cried, and yeah I shook, and yeah I felt really sorry for myself and I even still am.  But I'll get over it.  If I've learned anything over this last three years it's that I'm a strong fucking broad.  Who at times swears a lot.

I get it, I'm traumatized.  I'll stop here.  But sometimes writing is better than crying uncontrollably in your truck in front of your doctor's office and having people look at you strangely.  Sometimes writing makes me look normal, and like I don't have actual feelings that hurt, to people who see me in person.  So I guess that works.