SPIROCHETE SERIES: Big Man on Campus~

We women have a million MeToo moments from the time we are born but I’ll happily share one of mine which will head posting elsewhere to inspire any and all.

When I started high school, my school had 7th graders walking around with 18 year old seniors and they may very well be where my love for older men stems from, and Elvis of course. At that particular time in life I knew nothing about jocks with an ego not to be superseded. Lucky me I fell for one of those jocks. While my young mind dreamt of kissing him, roller skating together, and playing with his dark curls he proved his point it was never about getting to know me, or caring about my curls, not on my head anyway.

As I dated this boy I knew he was losing his patience since he was older, and no time to waste, I found myself one night in the backseat of a car in the woods and seeing a boy naked for the first time. I remember thinking it was what I imagined with finding my older brothers ‘exotic’ magazines, but in my 13 year old severely crushed valley girl brain he looked utterly adorable while I said “I’m not doing this”, my moms words of instruction to not getting pregnant scared the living hell out of me and even my biggest crush couldn’t sway my opinion. I didn’t want to find out the difficult, unappealing way to what my mom described as teenage pregnancy. It wasn’t worth it to me. Discovering early in life when you love a person more than yourself you will subconsciously do what they would want you to do. As my crush gaslighted me in anger screaming “tomorrow’s the game!” I sat quietly as he pondered on leaving me in the woods, I assured him I had no problem walking home. Exuding bitter attempt for pity to which no woman would change her mind for and as if it was my fault he was stripped nude while I was dressed, that was one guilt trip that didn’t work. Even though I made the mistake of giving an apology on the ride home. I will never forget how I never offered sex, I never promised sex, but I apologized.

The Monday after that date I walked into school with a huge smear campaign going on about stuff I never even took part in and to this day, 38 years later, if I run into that strong and secure former jock he will ask if I’m still a lesbian. As I look at his aged face when he’s saying it I simply think what every woman thinks when seeing a former flame. Nothing. It felt empty to see him. That boy was the virgin time from my past. I guess it’s moving that I affected him to such a degree he decided to punish til death regardless of age anyone who doesn’t sleep with him. I was raised open minded and others sexuality is none of my business however while my infamous crush is on his third marriage, I’ve been happily married for 34 years.
So if a guy is so narcissistically wounded he can’t help himself but refer to you as gay and it makes him feel better to say it, no reaction is the best reaction. Your reaction makes the sick, happy. I find that one of most unsound things I’ve learned in psychology. Their wounds run deeper than the ones that would go on in any back seat.
Obviously that’s the whole point to aging and wisdom. When I envision someone trying that now I would without a doubt shove him in his trunk, head first. Pun intended.

Posted in cancer | Tagged ,

Shhhhh..

I love you email followers but I foolishly edit so often after it mails!!!

That can make my OCD short circuit. My problem, isn’t it? I promise to fix it. 😉

Posted in cancer

~Obsessive Compulsively~

Being blessed with two seasoned doctors to continue watching me after our move following some recent blood work, I’ve discovered my name is ‘red flagged’ to my genius doctor that originally found my cancer in my trachea.

I’ll tell ya, I can get orderly and obsessive compulsive about cleaning, writing and music but after far too many years of misdiagnoses the last thing this cancer and Lyme survivor wanted to believe is, I have to get on it with enduring exhausting cancer testing and a day of blood panels all over again.

And here I swore I’d never walk into a hospital again.

It’s during my birthday week after Christmas as well, and that seems like my mom is still making sure I get a birthday present. 

My entire life I’ve lived with an anxiety disorder and OCD. My family will tell you I only have anxiety and I’m just one of those cleanaholics, but I assure you what you could witness all to prove my consistent need with order most certainly entails OCD. Thankfully I’m not the type that needs to turn the doorknob ten times before I walk out but I do match the medical criteria…

  1. Extreme devotion to work that impairs social and family activities~I devote my daily routine every morning to have my house spic and span with laundry finished, car included, before I head out the door. If I have to do it the night before due to an early morning, I will before bed.
  2. Excessive fixation with lists, rules and minor details~I am religious in staying strict with myself with bills, paperwork, files, and numerous clerical work as I access and review. Making a cd is tedious work for me not only due to the music discovery, but I will spend literal days devoted to only the sound. I grow so sick of studying the layout, I don’t listen to it again after the finished product.
  3. Perfectionism that interferes with finishing tasks~I have 5 really interesting well written novels, that have been started over from scratch many times. *I am my own worst critic.
  4. Rigid adherence to moral and ethical codes~Although I have always been open minded for others and easy going, I am old school and tend to stick to it.
  5. Unwillingness to assign tasks unless others perform them exactly as asked~I won’t ask for help in anything, my mom or daughter are the only peeps that could do my lists and I would be okay with. A cleaning service that is hired could never live up to my expectations. I would find what they missed, every time.
  6. Hoarding behaviors~I’m known to declutter and give quality items away. However, after my moms’ death, I kept every single item of hers down to the heart wrenching efforts of keeping her meaningless papers that lingered inside her desk. My older sister saved me with coming to my house, and verbally forced me to load truck after truck to Goodwill. Each drive I hauled felt like another chunk of flesh being ripped off my body, while also freeing me from the unhealthy hoarding and painful reminders that was born in me all due to significant loss. I also have countless record albums all the way from age 7 due to my obsessive compulsive love for music.

Anyway, as dear friends and family were immediately concerned, inquiring me with questions about my upcoming cancer testing I felt grateful for all the love and emotional intelligence that surrounds me as I floated into the realization my medical team is not in my music city, my childhood goal. Now being a flight or 8 hour drive away, it may be time to force myself to keep still, and make where almost took my life the location that takes precedence. NYC did the treatments to repair me but this particular doctor in the south saved my life, and he is still watching out for me.

Ever since my misdiagnosis to MS my daily regimen has been a different kind of survival. I don’t bore people with it, I keep it to myself, but as we all do I actually see my living the health fight of survival from the moment my eyes open until my work and chores are finished, til closing my eyes every night. 

As Bobby talks about his passion for the ocean again, and our daughter longs for the town she’s known from age 3 my compulsion lingers to what makes sense.

I don’t make resolutions but maybe it’s time this gypsy does just that. #noregrets

Posted in cancer, Trachea tumor, Uncategorized | Tagged , , ,