Well. I figured out like 20% of my issue.

So. Like, idk, the idea fucking came at me that what I’ve really been looking for all these years is a therapist. I started picturing what it would be like to bitch to someone for an hour about my parents and childhood and husband and drinking problem and weird sex habits and holy shit I started feeling better just thinking about it.

So trial and error after a few dead ends I find a counselor guy nearby who takes my insurance so tomorrow is my first appointment with him. We’ll see how it goes. I’m super not thrilled that it’ll cost me about $50 per week to see him. Why is it that if I want an hour of pole dancing and an hour of therapy it’s $72 a week??? Isn’t that insane sounding? I feel like it’s insane sounding.

Not going to lie I’m really really really uneasy about it, about going, for some reason. No actual reason why. That I can consciously identify other than the effort it’ll involve and the fact that the winter has been especially grueling this week. I try not to let it get me down but it’s also hard to want to leave your house if it’s -25 outside.

So. Therapy tomorrow. With a guy. Finally. The three times in my life that I’ve tried therapy/counseling before it’s been with women. No wonder it didn’t work. So we’ll see.

Yeah. There’s just SO. MUCH. TO. UNPACK.

Will let you know how it goes.

~Cassie

Guys. I came home to quite the drunk shit show. It’s still ongoing.

So it was -4 when i drove to work this morning. It was a whopping 13 when I drove home at 4pm.

And what do I see upon pulling into my driveway?

My husband in nothing but sweatpants. No shirt or shoes or socks or anything. He’s shoveling the sidewalk. So I yell at him, because it seems VERY stupid be be dressed as such in such cold weather and especially doing something that we always leave neglected so who cares?

I’m pissed before I’m in the house because I know. He’s shit faced. He has to be.

Then I on instinct lock the front door. He takes it as a sign I locked it on purpose, then when i insist otherwise, then he changes it to i I distinctly didn’t think of him and locked the door.

Then let’s see. It all deteriorated so fast. Because he does this thing when he’s wasted where he WONT leave me alone. Even if I like fucking scream at him to get out of my face, he’ll leave the room for s minute then be back. Like he can’t NOT antagonize me. And boy did he pull out the big guns today. I was told at least five times I was acting exactly like my father.

His pathetic attempts to wound me are sickening, if little else.

He drank what can be sure was a few beers and a pint of brandy after he got home from work.

The worst was around 5pm, because I started yelling back. I really don’t take it for long. And I’m not afraid of him. I’m just not. I’ve lost too much respect along the years. Anyway.

At 5 he did he usual just scream at me and act super weird and talk in the worlds most annoying tone of voice and then of course threaten to leave. He probably would have left if my car hadn’t been blocking the way. He told me he was driving to his parents. As much as I would love for his useless ass to be with them right now, there’s no way he would’ve made it. He would’ve died or killed someone else or close to it even attempting that drive. So I told him if he tried to leave I would call the cops and he’d get pulled over before he hit the highway and then he’d get to explain his dui to his parents from jail as he asked them to pay to bail him out. That seemed to work, because after that he let it go about leaving. That’s one of his go to drunk shitty things. There’s a lot of them. He did a lot of them today.

Then at some point he went out to the garage and was out there awhile, then he came inside and was in our bathroom a long time. Then he moved to the couch.

I went to use the finally vacant bathroom. He pissed on the lid of the closed toilet. There’s piss everywhere except IN the toilet. I used his bath towel to clean it up. I washed it, but the principle.

So that’s what’s happening.

Imma be the BIGGEST CUNT HES EVER SEEN about all this

He complains and complains about how I’m ALWAYS so angry?

Ahahahahah

I’ll show a mother fucker angry

If I’m so goddamn horrible why doesn’t he leave? Like seriously. Tf seems like I need him for, anyway? Because if I was alone there wouldn’t be someone to disappoint me and not listen when I talk?

Fuck today and fuck my life kids

~Cassie

I panicked and picked a fight

No time BUT I wish someone could tell me how long the “you deserve better than someone who treats you like this” feeling wins. Because. Otherwise. Always.

My husband lost the lid to my grinder. Like it’s just fucking gone. I woke him up and picked a a fight with him over it.

I hate how lonely I am

But I don’t

Because it’s one of the things that I know makes me human

Like, I know I feel feelings. That might not sound like much but it is.

Plus like, just like I found my husband at 21, I know I’ll find what I’m looking for one day, perhaps more than once.

I’m a patient fucking being, don’t forget

Im a lot of things that people like to forget but most of the time I don’t blame them, I’d be distracted by my appearance too

I really sicken myself sometimes

I skipped exercising today so I could have ample time to write, so I could crank out more than a single page before making dinner (which I pathetically have not done since Sunday. Monday we did frozen pizza and last night we got Chinese) and what am I doing? Getting so high that I can’t stop thinking about fucked up shit that happened almost a year ago that I’m TOTALLY not over. Also I keep having this idea that I should make a list, one at time, writing out one thing I don’t like and then one thing I do like about my husband, until I get to a grand total of twenty. I want to see if I can do it. Because. I mean sometimes. I don’t know. The only time I like my husband is if I’m actually with him, do you get me? Like,  if I ever think about shit, I just get madder and madder as the day goes on.

And honestly, it’s been awhile since I’ve thought about it at all, really, but today I just couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how low I’d sunk, my husband found a way to be way, way worse than me. I guess what really brought this topic to mind was finding some random, scribbled note of my husband’s. He does this. I think because he thinks his thoughts are brilliant. This would not bother me in the slightest, I think it’s wise to write down anything one thinks is wise, but for the fact that it’s SO chaotic. It’s random scribbles on receipts and bits of torn paper and flyers from nightclubs, it’s disgusting. His messiness is my biggest fault with him, it literally rivals his raging OCD. And when I saw OCD, I mean legitimate, diagnosed, it SO crazy to see happening in person, OCD. He was on different meds for it, from time to time, but they only seemed to make him worse in other ways. Well, one of his chaotic scribble notes started out with something along the lines of “A year ago I cheated on my wife.” And I’m sorry, but, am I to NOT read the rest of that? Especially he’s been such an ass about my need for privacy, which oh if this was real life he just would’ve started to flip out because you CANNOT remind him of past mistakes….to the point where it seems like he just thinks we get to pretend like NOTHING ever happened and everyone is totally okay with everything about each other. He’s hiding it behind the mantle of “not living in the past” as he puts it….but he’s the same peter pan syndrome motherfucker I met when I was 20, at least in a lot of ways.

And today, as I’m wasting all of my writing time like an idiot, I realize that I’m not over the fact that last June my husband had sex with someone with a personal (sex) ad on fucking craigslist. If only that law about craigslist not being able to have a sex ads section anymore had been passed sooner, huh? SOOOOO much grief it would have saved me. It still grieves me. I think I know why. I don’t have ANYONE to talk to about it. My husband always uses the “I don’t want to ruin our evening/I’m trying to have a nice morning with you” vein of reasoning for not discussing past, unpleasant topics. So I don’t think it’d be a simple task getting him to talk about it, plus that doesn’t count as “talking about it.” The last two times I’ve seen my best friend since I found out, I just haven’t had it in me. It’s just another conversation I can’t stand the thought of having, so I don’t.  But one might imagine I need to. But, sadly, truly, there’s just no one in my life I trust like that.

I mean, there’s you, Anonablog, but…does it count? How? Maybe like 20% better, but not what it should be.

So, I don’t know a whole post to complain about how I’m still really grossed out and depressed and sickened by my husband’s super gross rando hook up. I mean, I’ve evaluated that it’s good he didn’t fall in love with someone else, in fact the exact opposite…but omg that’s so fucking disgusting. Like if he’ll do that, what else will he do? I should have known. He went to a whorehouse in DC with two Saudi friends of his, he got a blow job because there was no “wait in the lobby” option. I knew about that like two months into our relationship…so I guess this is probably just my fault anyway. My fault for thinking I could trust anyone. I’ll never learn, I know that, but I feel the need to annoyingly point out my errors after they happen. But, the fact remains that even though he went as impersonal as possible…it’s still fucking gross. I still fucking think that he’s probably gone when I wake up at 3am and he’s not in bed. I really, really, really wish I’d woken up the night he was gone. He couldn’t give me the exact day but he said it was a weekday in mid-June.

It’s just like…if he can talk himself into thinking that I’d be okay with it happening…only up until such a time as he was done fucking a random internet stranger, then he “realized what mistake he made” and knew he had to keep it a secret. He planned on keeping it from me forever, yet also insists that he would have told me the truth if I had somehow known to ask him point blank if he’d had sex I didn’t know about.

Do you see what I’m dealing with, with him?

Is it me? Please someone fucking tell me,  for real, if this is MY psychological damage, or his. Because…I mean…it COULD be me…I had a fucking messed up childhood. I incurred a lot more than’s fair for a young person. I might not be capable of expressing myself healthily, ever. I might actually even be playing my father’s role in my own marriage…except I have my mother’s work ethic, so I can’t TOTALLY encapsulate his narcissism and pathological laziness. Or is this him? He’s the one who “feels a masculine need to be BADDER” I’m paraphrasing but that is also written in one of his twelve million trash scribble notes. Do you see how bothered i am by this? Everything he does and touches it chaotic and messy and disorganized. The EXACT things I detest, because I had my own share and then some of chaos, as a child. See, does it make sense yet?

But basically, he’s saying that to establish his status as the man in our relationship, he had to do something worse than me. And boy did he find it.

I mean I spent like nine months regularly fucking and staying that night with some douchenozzle I met in grad school who turned out to ONLY be good for sex. He’s lucky he has a nice dick, because when I last saw him it was one of his few remaining positive features. He was just another messed up alcoholic loser, because if that isn’t my type I don’t know what is. At first I was genuinely attracted to him and into banging him, but then it just became weird obligation/routine/distraction from actual problems in life…and it just made the situation with my husband SO much worse. I mean there was awhile there where I was gone three nights a week, every week. I feel bad about that, I really do. But after last July whatever it was, like the 21st I think, I think my guilt was wasted. Because the whole time he was telling me it was okay and secretly freaking out about it internally, that whole time, because it wasn’t at all okay but I was making him feel like he had no choice but to say yes, that whole time, he was just planning how to get back at me. He more or less wrote that.

This is what I get for reading something private, i know. But my issue is that it happened, not that he’s trying to justify himself to himself. That seems normal, at least for him.

I took 1400 words to tell myself I’m not over this and I wish I had someone to talk to. Thank god I skipped working out to write….*eye roll*

 

~Cassie

If you’re proud of your bruises, you’re either demented…or a pole dancer

Or both. Mwahaha. Anyway, yeah I’ve been getting better. I’m sorry I’m not yet affluent enough to afford video-hosting on my WordPress – BUT if you want to see how I’m progressing  – it’s on my Twitter right now, two pretty short videos, my handle is @CassieAnonablog.

I work tomorrow like usual, then Monday night we’re leaving for Kentucky, Shakespeare Behind Bars is Tuesday night! The plan is to get to the hotel Tuesday morning and check in and sleep until we get up to get ready for the performance. I might see people from my graduate school, I might not. Either way I’m excited for a lot of driving for something enjoyable rather than an emotionally heavy funeral.

I didn’t even get into it with you guys, but my husband kind of lost his shit at the hotel, on our way to the viewing before the funeral. When I said “We parked by this door” in a not even rude or mean tone, I was just trying to exit the hotel using the door nearest my car, my husband LOST his shit. He stormed ahead of me out the hotel door and punched the brick wall outside about 7 or 8 times.
Yeah. Of course. Okay sure I had been somewhat edgy/bitchy, but it wasn’t on purpose, and I was exhausted and I drove us all the way down there, and sometimes I don’t do well in family situations because I don’t really have a family of my own anymore, like as in the one I came from. I won’t say I wasn’t partially to blame, but it’s just the fact that he takes a bad situation and makes it a volatile one, where the threat of self-harm is SO real from him. In fact he totally ruined the night after the last time we went to Shakespeare Behind Bars, three years ago. But we were both very sleep deprived and VERY drunk when all that happened. Since that won’t be the case this time, I’m not super concerned about our outcome this time.

But anyway I want to go write more before I run out of energy for the day, because I’m about to have a tiring few days, but they’ll be fun.

Watch me do really basic pole dance spins, on my Twitter because WordPress makes you pay extra to host videos…because of course.

~Cassie

30th birthday/420 weekend recap

The title says it all. It was great seeing my best friend for longer than three hours between her driving from her place on her way to her mother’s. She got here around 12pm on Thursday. But then she was gone from like 1-4, so I’ll count from then on. We went to a grocery store to stock up on the random things i needed to make Mai Thais (then, in total this weekend, we made one mai thai, I made her one at the end of the night with almost no rum in it…because we’re old now…anyway) and this fun alcoholic coffee drink I like making. Then when my husband got home from work on Thursday around 7 we went to a brewery by me that was disappointing. But then we came home and ordered astoundingly good pizza from a specialty award-winning one-location-only pizza place by me. So that saved it. Then we went to bed after a few more drinks.

Then Friday on my actual birthday we got up somewhat early, after my husband had left for work, she and I went to a breakfast place I’ve always wanted to try, but it’s always so busy I never try to get in on the weekends. That’s the first picture. What’s hilarious, what I didn’t notice happening at the restaurant but my bestie did, was that there was a couple sitting near us, and the girl got jealous/mad because either the guy said something about us/one of us being hot, or she caught him staring at us, because she said really loudly, in a voice meant for us to hear it (I didn’t hear it because we’d just gotten our food and I was like…devouring that…) she said “Oh that girl? Right over there by that waiter with the tattoos? Oh, she’s too gothy for ME.” Idk which one of us she meant, my bestie has dark hair, but I have a bunch of rando ear piercings.

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See, I told you we were real cute. We always have been! Anyway….I LOVE how, even a little hungover and unshowered, we’re still making this rudeass person in the breakfast place petty as hell. Mwaahaha bone structure.

Then part of Friday was spent running the boring errand of getting my paycheck from work and taking it to the bank, because LORD forbid we have direct deposit…..Anyway.

Then we went back to my place for a few hours. BFF got some cardio in, because God forbid she not do that for one day. Then she and I got ready. Then around 4pm we hit up a book store I’ve always been meaning to look into, but never got around to going to because they close at freaking 5pm. It was a disappointing book store, to say the least.
Then we went back to my place to wait for my husband. He gets home from work around 7pm. Then, we finally got to the Mexican place I wanted to hit up for dinner around 9. Then we’re there until almost 11pm.
I’d wanted to get all done up and hit up a gay club, like I told you guys, but then I was REALLY tired by the time we got home from the restaurant, I was like I don’t want to go pay cover just to buy expensive drinks and want to come home the whole time. So we only took only more pic:

 

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Then Saturday morning she left to go with her aunt to visit her mother in our hometown. Then I did NOTHING on Saturday. Like I did our laundry. And I SAT on Tinder. That’s right, I started a Tinder again, this time under my alter ego, Cassie. That’s right. AND, I managed to nail down a situation that i think will work out.
I won’t say the guy’s name because I don’t want to be rude about confidentiality, but he lives near enough and is the same age as me, and is very interested in being the bisexual interloper we need for a MMF threesome. I mean, that’s what I really want out of life, and my husband is also very into the idea. And he likes the guy I found. BUT, the guy said he can’t meet up until the weekend after next, sigh, so we’ll see if things hold up that long. Sometimes it’s easy to forget about Tinder convos am I right?

I’m a little embarrassed I had SO much extra time off, and I didn’t write any more than normal…but oh well. I had a good time doing nothing, swiping left, slowly wooing this one cute guy for my husband and myself….It was a good time. He sent a dick pic and that’s a good situation, so that’s awesome.

So, the last thing I did this weekend was get done up to do some photos. As you know I have an at home pole, well enjoy below, one is me on my pole, I’m not rich enough to have the video support plan…sorry y-all. Then there’s another one of me because I did my hair AND make up and wore a fancy new pole outfit.

Then the last picture is me having a mai thai by myself, in comfy clothes, as i know my bestie suffers at her mother’s house in our hometown. I feel for people who still speak to their parents. That sounds real tough.

Anyway, I had a good 30th birthday and long weekend off from work, I really do appreciate that I had my best friend and husband with me for it, as I have for so many now. I cherish them both and my relationships with them. I’m sure my 30s will be great considering how fucking bad my 20s were by comparison, right?

Hope everyone had a good weekend. My birthday gifts were my pole, and like 12 edibles, and a new bubbler that makes me feel like a wizard when I use it.

Peace

 

~Cassie

 

Superstition is for idiots

I’m not stranger to bad things, but they can’t be caused by a day. When my husband worked at a cemetery, he was convinced something bad was going to happen, just because he was so associated with death and death planning, etc. I had to out and out tell him that nothing could be mystically caused by his employment. Working somewhere doesn’t invite death into your life. Like, I believe in certain spiritual things…but…not that. Nor is any given number unlucky.

Anyway, what I really wanted to write about was something my husband said last night. Many times I go to bed before my husband. He’ll always come in and say goodnight to me when I do so, which usually involves spooning with me for awhile. He accidentally falls asleep with me all the time. Which is part of his charm.

Well last night we were doing exactly that. I said something about how lying there like that, before falling asleep was the best. Then my husband said, “If anything ever happens to me, I want you to know that I’ll still always be right here.”

And, hearing it last night made me cry. Writing it now is making me cry a great deal more. The idea of that memory coming back to truly haunt me, it’s enough to make one cry. At least me.

Because, I mean, what made the problems we used to have so devastating that my husband is really all I have. I mean, think about how alone I am, except for him. I mean it’s all right because we really are one of those couples who spend all of their spare time together, and we enjoy it. In an almost embarrassing (in the sense that it sounds SO trite) my husband really is a dream of mine come true.

Why? How can I say that, knowing what you, my astute readers, know? Well, see, when kids deal with intense mental/emotional stress/trauma, if there’s one odd fringe side effect its the concept that they tend to be very realistic about their expectations of life. Which is why my brother’s sense of entitlement REALLY confuses me….but that’s a discussion for a different time. Plus, remember how I said TV raised me and helped me (along with literature) to conglomerate my own mental parents who raised me, because my real ones were…well…I’ve told you…? Well, when you grow up in the 90s (I was obviously born in 88, I’ve been going on about my 30th birthday IN ONE WEEK for awhile now….and yes ahahahahah my birthday is 4/20 isn’t that ironic, by the way the grow turned out great) you learn a lot about how relationships between white people can go wrong. I recall thinking that I wouldn’t care what random problems I had with my significant other….as long as I had nothing like a relationship my parents had. They NEVER did anything together, in fact it was like they avoided each other as much as possible, unless my dad was high/drunk an in a talking mood, then he’d either go into her part of the house and turn the TV off to lecture her, or just call her out into his room with a TV, where he’d preach to her just like he did to his kids, with the TV on mute so he could be heard but keep watching it. But anyway. I always thought I could handle anything as long as I got to be with someone who genuinely loves me. Because I saw, firsthand, so painfully, what happens when people who do not fucking love each other AT ALL stay married. My mom told me she told my dad, word for word, “It’s like you hate me.” And he really does act like that, like literally all the time. Like he is constantly criticizing her, or just ignoring her, not paying attention or repeatedly checking his watch whenever she’s trying to talk to him. She just wants a happy relationship. He’s done the worst things a spouse can do to their partner. And still she stayed. She’s always trying. She’s such a (passive) nice person. EVERYONE says so. She has a horrible time at work because her coworkers are shitty people who know how to manipulate/take advantage of her, and they fucking do. Predators are everywhere man. I know because I dealt with absolute garbage people at jobs of mine in the past. People who  think because I don’t react with extremely inappropriate and immature behavior, like they do, I must be SO easy to push around, to mock (especially to my face). Plus like…I’m the right level of attractive, would-be alpha females (looks-wise) are going to see me as a potential threat, best to take her down a few pegs.

I think that’s how I make people feel. It’s something, something that I do that makes people treat me like shit. And not appreciate me. AT ALL. And take me COMPLETELY for granted. Like you have no idea how horribly I let people treat me when I was younger. I don’t know how to describe the exact cause of it, but I feel like it has something to do with a chaotic/unstable foundation. Good thing I was smart.

But anyway as you can see, I witnessed a living nightmare every day of my life because of my parents. My only ally would have been my brother, but he had his own reasons to be a shitty person,  I guess. And, I was NOT good at maintaining relationships as a child, with friends, or later on with guys. So I always thought if I had a REAL marriage one day, one where we loved each other…I would get to see what a happy home/family could be like.

I mean that’s really all I want, or ever wanted, out of life. The whole being a writer thing too, but that’s always just been a part of me, like since I learned to read. Now here I am, experiencing it. I mean granted we don’t have kids yet, but I’m 29 I’m sure I’ll have at least 1. Hopefully 2, because I never liked only children when I was a kid.

But, to be honest, I’m just really afraid most of the time, that something horrible is going to happen. Like I feel like I definitely have cherophobia.  I have no idea if that’s real, because I’ve only read about it on Pinterest.

Or I feel like I shouldn’t let myself be too happy, because it won’t let/is going to get ruined. Well, I guess, if I think about it…it’s because when I was young EVERYTHING got ruined. It was a power move on my dad’s/brother’s part. Maybe that’s what’s up with that.

 

 

But anyway, this was not to go on about my childhood again, it was to let you know that despite the many horrible memories, the terrible things I talk/write about on here….my husband and I do truly love one another. We’re both incredibly fucked up too, so there’s that.

 

Anyway, gotta jet.

 

~Cassie