I always come to the same conclusion about love and relationships. That same lightbulb goes off over and over again telling me actions really do speak louder than words. Words are easy and often times cheap and meaningless! If someone isn’t willing to back up all their verbal sunshine and roses with stepping up to the plate when it really counts then why do so many of us feel the need to make excuses for their stupidity? Why do we waste our time on people who don’t call us when they say they will, who always are too busy unless they want something from us and who never want to put our needs first? Doesn’t spending time and energy on something that we get nothing from in return become more damaging than being alone? Why do we let ourselves love someone who isn't capable of reciprocating that love?

When I start thinking about what a great catch I am I can smile now instead of feeling rejected, neglected and confused. I no longer beat myself up over anyone's inability to love me. I like myself and just don’t want or need the aggravation of headgames and evasive tactics...either you’re with me or you’re not!!! It’s as simple as that. No shades of gray this time...it’s all clearly black and white. I don’t want or need someone who’s not physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually ready for whatever lies ahead. My babysitting, coaxing and coercing days are behind me. If it takes that much work then I don’t want the job! What I do want sometime in the future is that when the time is right and I reach out again in search of an emotional connection what I grasp is a hand and heart reaching out for me.


For anyone who was part of the insanity on MS Spaces, there's now a group on Facebook for old blogging buddies to reunite.


I'll be the first to admit that at times I can be a real cold, calculating, conniving bitch. On occasion, my claws come out and I aim for the throat. I guess that doesn't paint me as being the kind of person I strive to be most of the time. What it does show is a side of me that emerges at times when I feel threatened, insecure or angry. That ugly side is the side that most of us try to avoid confronting and when it does raise its ferocious head we try to rationalize it away as being human nature and nothing more.

At my age I really do know where not to tread, yet sometimes I find myself going there anyway. Perhaps it's nothing more than old bad behavior which is a hard habit to break. Like an addict who "slips" every now and then, I sometimes allow myself the luxury of exploring my dark side. I always hate what I see and vow I'll never go there again. HUH! Not until next time! I don't strive for perfection. I strive to understand myself and to love the person I am. In order to do that I have to embrace and forgive that dark side because it too is a part of me.

I've been single since the late 90's and in "time out" for almost 7 years. Sometimes I think this self imposed hibernation is just another act of being self destructive. In 7 years I have become a well established troglodyte with having only a few moments of contemplating a return to relationship insanity. Those moments I have discovered are as self destructive as anything else I have done in my lifetime. During my last blast of irrational thinking I seriously considered getting back together with my ex-husband. Admitting that makes me shudder and I am truly thankful that the tangled web I was weaving went no further than just talk! After dancing with the notion for awhile, I decided that my ex is as big a player as he always was and that I couldn't allow myself be sucked back into his glorious madness again. Time, distance and age hasn't cured his mental illness. Nothing will and I've always known that but somehow I jumped into an emotional tag of war and like most women caught up in an emotional triangle, I aimed all my negativity at the wrong person.

Below is a message I recently sent to his present significant other:
I'd like to make a long overdue apology for the rude, unkind and unnecessary comments I've written in the past. I won't attempt to make any excuses for what I wrote because there is no excuse for my negative behavior. I do want you to know that during the time Jim and you have been together, our relationship has been strictly platonic. What Jim and I had is in the past. We've both moved on and all I want is for him is to find the happiness and stability that he so desperately seeks. Jim has many wonderful qualities, yet it's his illness driven behaviors that seem to dominate his life much of the time and keep him from maintaining the status quo that most people seem to be able to achieve. I know you must love him as I once did. Please know I only want the best for both of you and that I really am not the horrid person I came off sounding like by attacking you. I'm sorry and I hope you can forgive me.


I received no response and that's okay because I know I ultimately did the right thing.


The night was laden with the unseasonably warm Gulf of Mexico air. As I lay awake listening to the symphony of sounds winding down into its usual nightly slumber, I was suddenly startled by the blinding light that filled my bedroom. My eyes widened as the outline of several figures drifted slowly towards me. Fleeing became impossible because my limbs had become paralyzed with some unexplained fear of the unknown. The relentless void finally engulfed me. When I opened my eyes, I was in a parking lot. The engine of the car I had obviously been driving was still idling and waiting to be turned off.

As I became oddly familiarized with my surroundings I realized I was at school. Beside me was someone I hadn't seen in years, but how could that be? Feeling the need to leave, I threw the car into reverse and quickly departed freeing that parking spot for the next in line. When I realized I was driving in reverse with ease, I stopped. Confusion and frustration filled me when I tried shifting gears, but the only direction my car seemed to want to go was backwards. So backwards it went, but I knew I needed help when I was unable to leave the parking lot. The number I dialed tugged at my heart. As I looked at the display on my cellphone, a familiar voice answered. I had called my ex-husband begging him for help.

He quickly came to my rescue, but when he arrived in the medium blue Ford F150 truck he once drove many years ago the obvious question of why my son and his wife were with him wasn't what I wanted to know. I wanted and needed to know was why he was driving that truck. With no real explanation, they quickly rushed me to a location I called "Sanctuary" so the surgeon I once worked with could alleviate the excruciating pain in my lower back. I hobbled around Sanctuary trying to find Dr. Rubey to no avail. Each door I opened was the wrong one. I found no offices or waiting rooms. All paths in Sanctuary were a circuitous route back to the ornate entrance where the receptionist sat poised and ready help anyone who entered the facility. She greeted me once again with a radiantly artificial smile. She paged Dr. Rubey and sent a runner to find him. Why are doctors never on time for their appointments? Don't they know I too have places to go? People to see? And things to do? The thought of having to wait once again for something that wouldn't help me annoyed me.

I shut my eyes and rubbed my brow. All optimism silently fled Sanctuary and when I opened my eyes again the room was dark. I was alone. The clock boldly displayed 3:36. As usual I got a few hours of sleep before waking in pain, but what was different about this time was that I had dreamed and the dream was as lifelike and vivid as being there in person. But wasn't I there in person? I found Sanctuary or it had found me, but Sanctuary was like life...optimism was bountiful, but fleeting. I never dream or I guess I should say I rarely dream. REM sleep where dreams are made is a place I rarely visit.

When I repositioned my body and found a spot that slightly eased my deep, consuming pain, that spot immediately secured my place on The Sleep Express. Destination: a huge outdoor market where hundreds of merchants were selling jewelry. A wide cuffed bracelet caught my eye. The fine Mosaic pattern of large flowers outlined with silver brought a smile to my face. It looked right and felt right on my wrist as I admired its beauty and superb craftsmanship. I knew that bracelet was meant to be mine and so did the merchant. After he refused my money, I gently kissed his cheek and I whispered, "thank you". Ah! Sanctuary once again!

I gazed out the sliding glass doors onto the beach where the waves had begun to gain momentum as they crashed onto the shoreline. The book I had been reading about ancient Egyptian artifacts laid open at the section showing bracelets the Pharaohs had once lavished on their favorite concubines. There it was! There in all its glory was my bracelet. The gift from a Pharaoh from long ago. How could I not smile? Naturally, I called Jim to let him know the storm was strengthening. The waves were now starting to reach the doors. He entered the room just as a huge wave crashed into the house completely submerging it underwater.

I awoke struggling to breathe. Sleep apnea sometimes does that to me, but tomorrow I receive a new CPAP machine which I know I NEED to use. No more lame excuses! My latest sleep study revealed I stopped breathing 55.9 times per hour during apnea related episodes. My lowest oxygen level was 73%. Ooops! My bad! Normal levels should be 95-100% with anything under 90% is considered being in respiratory distress. My doctor was amazed that I haven't had a heart attack or a stroke in my sleep. He also was amazed that I can function during the day after having been deprived of oxygen all night long night after night. Is "functioning" what this is called? If he only knew!