I spent my Thanksgiving one year in the mountains. I had been lying motionless for 36 hours prior to the dawn of that Thanksgiving. I was covered in snow and had spread animal feces all over me since there were dogs in the area. I spent most of the time gazing through a high power scope, watching a target and mapping his movements.
That was my life then. I’d get sent somewhere, I’d do a job, and then I was supposed to come back perfectly normal. Last week I was told I was suffering from DPSTS. Hearing that news changed me.
I don’t go to doctors or dentists. I always say it because I know my body better than a stranger, even if that stranger is a doctor. But the real reason is I never want to hear that something is wrong. Once I hear the news from someone that supposedly knows, it becomes real.
I broke my arm, elbow and wrist once. I didn’t go to a doctor. I guess I knew it was fucked up, but if I didn’t hear it then I could tell people it was broken; but in my mind I was and would be fine. So I put on a bowlers wrist brace, an elbow pad and a sling on myself and moved on.
So hearing that my mind is a wreck was seriously bad news. I can function well. I have a high IQ, I work hard, I’m opinionated and I always succeed. But when the lights go down or when I’m left alone I drift. I’m like a duck on the water. Everything looks fine on the surface, but under the water it’s a mess.
My latest realization tied to this thought is that I will eventually screw up any relationship I try to enjoy. I was told I screwed one up last night. Also, I haven’t heard from Mustang since last Sunday night, even though I’ve called, sent text messages and emailed. So we can all assume I screwed that one up too. The Fox lady is still around, but I keep missing chances to meet her.
I screw shit up.
But at the darkest moment I got a call from HMPOA. She was busting my balls for sending rather drunk text messages to her from the game this Sunday. She said she knew I was drunk because I mis-spelled every other word, and she knows I hate mis-spelling. It made me smile a bit.
Somehow we got onto the topic of us. HMPOA and I started as co-workers, then became friends and had a tumultuous time. Everyone thought we were fucking because we were friends. After a few years of being friends and being accused of having sex everywhere including the office, we decided to try dating. That lasted about 5 weeks before we both decided that we were better friends than lovers.
I was just thinking about that relationship. Yes, it ended just like every other relationship I had tried. But it didn’t end bloody. And after thinking through it I figured out why. HMPOA is a lot like me, she is very direct and honest. Ok, she will lie in the moment; but every time she would come clean shortly after. I think that directness was the reason we stayed friends.
She used to critique our dates after we would get back to her place. I’m sure that sounds bizarre, but it was exactly what I loved about her. We would talk about everything. Where we went, how close we stood, what was said, how we kissed, we discussed everything. So I ALWAYS knew exactly where I stood with her. And after 5 weeks it was easily obvious that we weren’t meant to be romantic.
So perhaps, even though I am supposedly a mental wreck, my relationships end poorly because I need that amount of honesty. And every relationship I’ve had lately was sprinkled with inconsistencies, confusion and frustration. Yes, I take full responsibility for screwing up all my relationships. But maybe a little blame goes to all those women who wouldn’t just tell me what the heck was going on.
I know I can be good in a relationship, and I am certain that I am a great catch. Maybe my disorder creates this confusion and causes most women to pull back and keep things to themselves. But still, talking to me might have made the relationship blossom into a great friendship like I have with Banana Rama, Martel, Lovely girl . . . . and HMPOA.
I’m leaving for SA tomorrow. My folks don’t have internet so I won’t be able to write. So today I will give you my shout outs.
Banana Rama – Thank you for putting up with me all these years. You truly are the sister, and the family I need now.
Martel – Thank you for always knowing when to bug me and when to let me be in my cave. You’re my football bitch, and my trusted friend. You get me thorough a lot of tough nights even though you have no idea I’m a mess.
HMPOA – Thank you for reminding me that I’m not always the ONLY problem.
Lovely girl – We’ve drifted apart twice before. Once was your choice and once was my choice. I just glad we keep finding each other.
I have one more line for someone that I will never speak to again, and the last thing I shared with them was anger. I never want a relationship of mine to end that way.
So I choose these words as my last words ever to that person . . . . I really care about you.
Happy Thanksgiving.
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