bleak and pretty

through the creases of a wonderful mind. city worker on the graveyard shift. writer@happyhippythoughts.xyz

(i have bipolar 2.)

been looking at reddit for divorce posts and stuff. this one is a gem. i am currently lurking in the comments section.

so how's it going for me? i've been in the normal zone for a few days, baby! boy i am so glad. i just perform my daily functions and complain about the super hot weather in the afternoon. stable is a little boring, but the lack of anxiety/depression makes life a lot livable.

so yeah, here is where i can take a deep breath and really say that i am fine.

i am so okay, i'm planning on putting my life on trello and get everything organized.

well, nothing's changed about my life. i still think about his kids from time to time, i'm still estranged from my own dad, i still have this 9-5 job, i still have the same issues, i'm still not pregnant and married (yet!), and i still live in the same house.

but my brain is actually functioning as it should!

i am excited to enter this “normal phase” and hopefully come up with good ideas and action plans. really gonna organize my life now.

this is it!

a post about other stuff “i'm on.”

i've been getting plenty of sleep. kinda like, i just want to turn my back and sleep on everything, then watch joel kim booster from time to time.

yesterday, i snuggled up with my SO and watched videos about tiny houses. it all started with this new zealand documentary on the mahana. he got all the marijuana cues there.

at work, i've been reading many things (besides reddit). i read about megan bannister, the woman behind the film candy.

i've also been trying to revisit my high school days by looking up fall out boy. somehow, listening to the music i loved when i was 13 makes me feel younger, provides an escape to my innocent days.

“infertility” is also among my top searches. i read an article on infertility awareness, plus a bunch of other stuff i'm no longer linking here.

i've also got in my head an idea for my very own surf brand and here's a facebook page of it. there's nothing on the page yet, but i would probably add soon. i have designed logo variations. what's next is probably some merch and other items i might be interested in selling. it's in the very first stages as of yet. but i've been looking for suppliers at alibaba.com and just making a decision as to when will i be placing orders and launching a retail business.

i also wrote an anonymous post, which recollects my substance use. Not posting this on Sappy Alternatives because, um, I don't know, haha.

so, yeah, i'm not all about worrying about children from previous relationships and obsessing about conceiving a child. i am a three-dimensional human being, too, with a lot of other stuff on my plate. earlier today, i just thought about re-arranging my apartment space. and probably finishing my registration on an academic research website.

but, yeah, for right now, i just want to sleep, write, go to work, get pregnant, and stop worrying about shit.

the past month has been absolutely exhausting. i got company in my apartment – not necessarily a very nice thing – bringing laughter, tears, frustration, and moments of bliss.

the last time i lived with someone was about two years ago.

loneliness was cold but comforting. i could have really lazy days and not take a bath during the weekends. i skipped meals and lost weight. but now i got someone taking care of me and making sure i'm fed, clean, and sane. no more moping around and just letting go, drowning in existential crisis and falling into the abyss, the emotions and feelings that eat me alive from the inside.

i also miss doing solitary yoga on my apartment floor. being all alone and connected to nothing but my body.

i still got about a month left to spend with him. i am definitely happy about having him around, although it means that stress levels are on an all time high. i feel safe when i'm with him. cuddling to sleep is great, even though we are in the middle of summer heat.

there are moments when, i gotta be honest, i feel guilty about taking him here to the city where there's no sea and sand.

it is fucking miserable here in this concrete garbage wasteland. i am absolutely not happy when i go to work and smell piss in the streets. but i have no choice but to stay here for the meantime, because the high paying job is here, and i need a high paying job (money) so we can build a small hut and start a new life with enough safety cash.

i just want to be alone for days, watch stand up comedy, and regain my curiosity and vigor for life. i want to feel what it's like to be living, exploring, and travelling — not just plainly existing.

i'm not gonna be like him who's 37 and lives with his mom and can't afford to have his own board shaped. yes, he's a happy beach bum who's got happiness, freedom, and liberty, but he got no career, no money, no insurance. in some way it is admirable — how he chose to follow his heart, be free, and live his wild dreams while the rest of us are doing a 9-5. but then it's sad to know that he failed his parenthood and pretty much most of his adulthood, thanks to drugs and too much freedom.

there's two sides to the coin, yes, and thank you very much but i'm happy grinding here in the city instead of living in a sinful island paradise and making babies that i couldn't properly raise.

did he have fun? oh yes he said he did. now he's at this point of his life where he's ready to “make things right” and “get serious”. no more drugs, no more alcohol parties, and maybe no more abandoning children in the future.

like turn his life around.

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i got moments where i try to see him again like i did on the first day we met. but, you just can't. after you learn about a person's dark side, hear about their life-altering decisions, get disappointed by them, realize that they, too, are human and not just a hot body with a pretty face — you just never see them the same way again. this either brings you closer (fitting together through each other's cracks) or throws the relationship away (you couldn't handle the shit they got.)

i am really, really tired, like i just want to be alone for days, watch stand up comedy, and regain my curiosity and vigor for life. i want to feel what it's like to be living, exploring, and travelling — not just plainly existing. and for my relationship, i want to feel what it's like to celebrate life and share it with another person.

i am so done with the “tell me all your hurtful shit now so i know what i'm dealing with” and the “push all my buttons now so you know what causes my meltdowns”. i just wanna go past all that, like, if this relationship were a pair of shoes, i just want to finally break in and start a happy, long walk! i wanna be done with all the sobbing and fighting just to see how much of each other we can tolerate.

then we can say that these cracks, which we've caused and found in each other, allow us to better fit together.

i'm stuck in the middle of an ocean and just don't know where to go. it sucks to be 24 years old and “have my whole life ahead of me”. i got money, time, and energy to do stuff, but just because i planned it and wanted it to happen, doesn't mean that it is going to happen. especially true if there's other people in the equation. people are fickle, unreliable, malleable beings. i've become like that myself.

i guess broken dreams spread like zombie virus. you get your hopes up, and then you go about infecting other people when your hopes turn into nothing. there isn't a cure for this. when you lose your soul you just walk like a dead person all through your life.

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i didn't realize that the decision to start a family of my own causes about the same amount of anxiety as being conflicted about whether to have a husband and kid/s to begin with. the “ttc waiting game” is a hell on its own. am i gonna get pregnant this month? just when you feel you've got pregnancy symptoms, your period comes. then you gotta wait a month for your next fertile window. and when it finally comes, you got a partner who won't have sex with you for shitty reasons. then you're not sure about your period again. am i gonna get pregnant this month? we didn't do it right so probably no. then you remember that he got two women “accidentally” pregnant before. now it feels like you've got a cursed uterus. life is being such a big bitch to you. it won't even let you become a parent.

it hurts. i didn't realize that trying to make a baby is going to be heartbreaking.

i fucking waited for my fertile window for nothing. somehow it feels like he doesn't fully want this. how can i be with someone who's not all the way with me? someone who “doesn't want to rush” things. someone who would i guess rather play all day than actually live like an adult.

maybe he's just not family or dad material. i should have known. and i have the evidence right in front of me. he's not involved with his kids' life and just wants to forget about them. that alone sort of breaks my heart.

my own father severed our ties a few days ago. he said he doesn't want to hear from me again, ever. i haven't felt him as a parent since my teenage years anyway. but now i feel like i have lost the father i never had.

it doesn't matter anymore, really. to hell with my daddy issues. i have a lot of other issues to handle. here's what i can recall off the top of my head:

  • relationship insecurities
  • body image issues / self-esteem
  • my poor surfing abilities
  • family problems
  • my bipolar fucking disorder / mental health
  • possible infertility
  • my bisexuality
  • income-earning / job satisfaction

i don't wanna think about all this anymore, really, kind of like i just wanna laugh on and think that my life is a big joke.

for now, at least i'm starting to care less about him. i'm starting to care less about everything in general. maybe peace is coming. maybe peace is simply not giving a fuck. and just letting everything happen...except i can't have a fetus in my womb just because i didn't care enough.

still in the middle of an ocean. just floating around. i'm gonna have sleep for lunch and masturbate.

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these past few days i've only been getting sleep for lunch (at work). my sex drive is through the roof + i just want to sleep all day. yeah, that's right – just sleep and fuck. i used to do that a lot back when i still used marijuana. i wish i had some right now, or that i was still smoking. but maybe i just really want to sleep all day long and get a new sex toy.

maybe a vibrating dildo.

i am happy that my anxiety is over. i don't really think about the situation with his kids anymore. i did ask him if he was even planning to introduce me to them. he was like, nah, i don't want to interfere with their lives anymore. can we just forget about it?

okay, let's just forget that you have two kids with this woman who lives about a half hour's drive from your place. fine. i'll just get sleep and have orgasms all day long.

so, yeah, i'm resting my case. i am so exhausted about being consumed by this whole “blended family” thing, like we even have a family to begin with. i guess i should just shut up about his ex-family. i've turned off my public commenting on facebook by the way, to avoid any harassment in the future.

like i even care about harassment anymore. i'm so fucked already.

and i'm so light-skinned now. i used to be sun-tanned pretty much all the time, but now, i look a little...korean.

i won't be surfing anytime soon. probably this july and/or august i'll go. take a week off work to go surfing.

i still have my fingers crossed about conceiving a child. been trying since feb. it's april now. i've started to browse r/infertility and prepare for the worst.

i guess the greatest insult in my life would be the fact that he got two women pregnant but couldn't have a child with me. because we don't deserve kids. because i was a long-time slut and he abandoned three poor kids.

when you realize that fate doesn't have much in stock, a good option is to just get extended sleep. be a beach bum. write stuff. exist like a worm. work out for a six pack. surf till you get burned.

for now it's just sleep.

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feels like i can sleep forever. that's what i did last weekend — dozed off until my head hurt. i was in this lucid state where we built a house in one dream, and in another where i received oral from a certain woman. of course i didn't tell him about my second dream.

i didn't come out as bisexual. he thought homosexuality was a disease. but whenever i talked about women, it would become obvious to him that i wasn't straight. and then he would tease me for being a “tomboy”.

this accusation i dodge, because i don't identify as a lesbian. i am bisexual. i lust after men and women. and i must admit, i find feminine bodies more attractive. my appreciation for hunky men developed only recently. but pretty much all my life, i get off by looking at women.

and that's why i chose a skinny guy whose legs were thinner than mine. and whose locks fell past his shoulders. a unicorn of a man with broad chest and a slim waist.

which reminds me, he's been staying in my apartment for a month and a half now. i very much love his presence, an antidote to my loneliness, but we've planned a trip where i'll drop him back to his hometown next month.

then i'll have plenty of time to figure out how to live without solo travels and surfing, because he prohibits me from travelling alone. too many temptations are out there, he says. maybe i'll just sleep forever in those empty weekends.

i think it would be nice to get my sexual history down on record, so here it is. let's pretend i had too much alcohol to drink.

warning: this is a long read.

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the first time somebody attempted to take my virginity, i sobbed. i didn't expect it. we didn't talk about it. i was fifteen and he was sixteen. this happened about nine years ago, during my first semester of college. we were at my best friend's boarding house. i thought we were only going to “sleep” together, but one thing led to another.

nope, we didn't accomplish full penetration. we were both virgins and it hurt too much. we would try again about two months later.

at the end of my six-month “relationship” with him, i lost my virginity to awful sex. his penis wasn't fully erect and we got only two inches deep.

next -

fast forward to two years later. i “finally” lost my virginity. i came over to a guy's house, pulled my pants down, bent over a bunk bed, and allowed my date to take me from behind. he finished after ten seconds. i didn't hurt, i didn't bleed. he had a small penis.

it was a shame that i continued to date this guy for about three more (fucking) years. teenager me thought that we were going to tie the knot and do that marriage-and-kids thing, but i flipped during my last year of college. it felt like i had more (dicks) to experience in life.

a month into singlehood, i met a guy on tinder. from him, i learned to smoke marijuana and, oh boy, he was such a wonderful lover. i never thought that sex could be so nice, that a guy could be so sweet. he was this perfect boy-next-door thing with a pipe and a penny skateboard. yes, we fell in love. we did a lot of stoned sex. good times. it was a smokey paradise. but we couldn't just be together. he had a wife. he married his first love.

we broke up after the summer. and to prove to myself that i was fine and over him, i hooked up with another guy. a mutual friend gave my number to him. we met for sex. he was an unremarkable college boy with mommy issues. he had a hard time finishing. we were supposed to be fwb's but i decided that i wanted to come back to my pothead ex. so i ended it and blocked him on my phone and social media.

i never reconciled with my ex.

another couple of months.

i had this cute co-worker who would later on become my roommate. invited him over for pizza, movie, and marijuana. we ended up having sex and deciding to have a relationship, which would span two years. he was a man-child with an addiction to video games. he didn't really help me around the house. i got a taste of what it was like to play the role of a wife and a mother. it was not so fun. i never considered him my husband. i kicked him out of the apartment eventually.

two weeks later.

i met up with the boy i fell in love with when i was sixteen. for the first time, we had sex. it was quick. can't believe i waited seven years for a quickie. he didn't have a huge dick.

two weeks later.

met up with a guy on okcupid. now let me pause for a moment to say that he was the hottest guy i ever had sex with. yup. he was just hot. i never thought i could actually have sex with hot guys, too. he was a surfer. i developed feelings for him. he didn't reciprocate.

so about two or three weeks later, i got another guy. he was very nice and neat. an artist. he had smooth skin and a clean, baby face. he lived in a condo unit and had a cat. very suave. he had a comfy bed. it was very nice. the only thing with him was that he was emotionally scarred. guy had intimacy issues. he also had gonorrhea.

i swear i fell for him, but looking back, it was stupid.

i hooked up with another surfer. he was supposed to be my surfing teacher. it was kinda hot, having sex with your mentor. he was much older than me too. he had a wife and kids. he was too clingy and i wasn't just interested in married guys anymore.

i looked for a different surfing mentor. i ended up having sex with him again. it was a mess. he had a girthy cock. he was tall, athletic, overall sad-looking kind of handsome. i thought we were in love. i was in poor mental health at the time and probably gave him some hell. i was jealous of his ex. before i knew it, he was dating someone else.

i took about a three month break.

i decided to surf a different beach and guess what? i fucked one of the locals again. i even ended up introducing him to my mom – shame and regret right there. he wasn't beautiful. he had a poor attitude and coerced me to have sex with him one too many times. i dumped him at the end of the surfing season.

sigh. how many have been there?

while it was off-season, i decided to have a tattoo. and yes you guessed that right — i hooked up with my tattoo artist. i thought i was in love with him too! he was really funny, he was a small guy (i was taller) and he had this unspeakable charm about him. we kind of went along together well. he said i was on his mind, too. he was really good at his art. sadly, he wasn't up for anything, and we didn't meet again after that one session.

he was my favorite dick.

i believe it was about a week later, i hooked up with someone (again, ugh) and he was supposed to be nice on paper. drives a car, 6'0 tall, 7 inches long, has manners, has a drive for adventure. but then, he also had a baby face, poor posture, and a bad breath. he was clingy too. he wanted a relationship, i was good with a one night thing.

a week later, i meet the guy that i've been dating for about five months now. here is the story. i thought he was a happy-go-lucky surfer with pretty hair and a nice body. turns out he had run away from his kids from two different women. i want to make him my baby daddy. we're currently trying for a baby.

i'm probably being a stupid shit, and you can judge me by this essay.

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i miss being a teenager. the pure emotions, the feelings, the intensity and zest for life that become blunted in your twenties. when all that mattered were the contents of your heart.

losing your virginity. experiencing your first kiss. going on your first date. confessing your love to someone. writing love letters. crying over a boy. swearing you'll never fall in love again and then doing the exact same thing twenty more times later. moving out of your parents' house. smoking your first cigarette. losing your friends. realizing you can't really trust people. being more alone than ever. sleeping over at a boyfriend's house. disappointing your parents. taking your first pregnancy test. the depression. the euphoria. the wild ride.

life didn't really become more stable in my early 20's. if any, it was just more of a mess. plus, i had money to do “adult” things. i cohabited, smoked more cigarettes, hooked up, got myself on birth control, smoked more stuff, and hooked up some more.

along the way, you lose your heart. you just never feel the same again. nothing beats the first time. and as you unravel all your first time's, pretty much nothing becomes left.

you can visit the same place where you fell in love at sixteen, but it's never the same. the eyes of adulthood see things differently compared to teen-hood.

and i kind of just want to go back. i want to see the world the way i did when i was seventeen. raw, pure of faith, forever unsure and yet determined. i want to stop being a grown up. i want to navigate through life the way i did when i was so much younger and inexperienced.

i want this to be all about me and what i feel.

moving forward isn't easy. his past has become my present. in idle moments i see his little girl and the smirk of his ex. i wish i didn't know anything, if only it were possible to live in complete isolation, in a fantasy world, in deafening silence. i would rather be in a cold, dark universe with only him and me, ocean waves, and perhaps the fruits of our love.

but that isn't possible. what has been done in the past continues to live in the present. it claws at me and threatens tomorrow's sanity.

i remember the wife of an ex. i never thought of meeting her, but i did, four years ago. she had a pretty face. she was a doll that came to life, an animated cut-out from a piece of cardboard. i used to only see her in pictures. (is there a word to describe the feeling of finally seeing a person in real life, when you only used to see them in photographs?)

anyway, i did meet her, at a music festival. funny how you could memorize someone's face before actually meeting them. funny how the jealousy that used to be imaginary had now become valid. funny how i liked her a lot to the point that i developed some affection for her.

“who knows, they might be sweet to you when you finally meet them,” he suggested.

“i doubt it,” i replied.

some days later, with tears in my eyes i cried to him, “i don't want anything to do with your children.”

there goes the hidden fact. there goes the insecurity finally manifested in words with sloppy crying. i was insecure of two pre-pubescent children and their mother. they hate me probably just as much as i abhor the fact that they even existed. i wanted his love to be all mine. i was scared that somehow, they would take him away from me. that it in the future, i would find myself caught in a tug of war. like i once was, when i was a paramour who fed on bits and crumbs of attention. i don't ever want that to happen again.

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the more i think about his past, the more it becomes real. the more i realize that they live well into the present. a doomsday for me will certainly come. a time to meet the people that i couldn't avoid. when that happens, i must be guarded. i must have a clear mind and know what's mine. where i stand. what i'm supposed to care about. the limits of my involvement.

i must turn away and not look back. i must focus on myself. there are plenty of things to do right now rather than worry about the screams of delightful children. i must leave that to him. if they make their presence known to me again, i must not tremble. i must take a deep breath and act cool, like i did during the first few times i talked to my ex's wife.

who knows, they might be sweet to me, too.

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