I declare war!

Today the Fibromyalgia is Queen. Tomorrow, I shall be Queen again. I declare war on this miserable, havoc-wreaking disease.

I have had a good spell for a long time. Until about 3-4 weeks ago. At first, I thought it would just last a few days but last week I gave in and started taking the only medication which has ever really helped. It is helping a bit but far less than before. On the other hand, I can literally watch myself put on weight (mostly water retention) and my personality is becoming flatter. My mouth is constantly parched and I am disoriented. I am ready to give it two weeks to see whether it’s worth it. Will the pain subside?

And what caused this? A boyfriend is what caused it. And before I go any further – it isn’t his fault by a long shot. You see, my friend, Fibro, made it clear to me a long time ago that I could have either a job or intimacy in my life. Not both. Fibro sure had a hand in breaking up my marriage, although I am definitely not blame-free. Fibro also made me quit jobs I loved so I wouldn’t have a complete break-down.

A few months ago, I met a great man. We have been seeing each other for a while and we get on well. Now it seems that the extra energy I have been (very happily) spending on that relationship is biting me in the back. It seems I have a choice to make: ditch him or ditch my job and go on disability (which I could probably get rather easily). Obviously, it is not that simple. I love my job and I do NOT want to quit working. I also really like the man I am seeing. Do I really have to give up having a significant other in my life just so I can keep working? The relationship is young and may not survive this – that is besides the point . The point is that I refuse to let Fibro dictate how I live my life. If he want’s to keep seeing me despite the regular pain complaints, I sure as hell will keep him in my life. Fuck Fibro!

I declare war on the Fibro the dictator. I have been using all the regular ammo: exercise, sleep, hot baths, massages, down-time… but I obviously need to do more. So here is what I plan to do as of today:

  • Take stock of my diet. Regular meals, healthy food!
  • Get a cleaner. My place is small, so it is not expensive, but it is one less thing.
  • Go see my therapist. I need to learn to give 100% (or even 95% sometimes) instead of 150% or 200%. Nobody likes a show-off anyway!
  • Stop doing things I feel like I “ought” to do and do things I like doing and which I want to do. Yeah, I’ve said this before. Like a gazillion times. Hopefully my therapist can help with that as well.

Amen. All good advice is gladly accepted. As long as it is not the kind where you tell me to eat the root of oompa-loompa which you read on the internet that a women in Farawaystan ate and was cured of Fibromyalgia. Keep it real, folks. I beg you: no miracle cure shit. Just practical advice.

Love you all who read this.

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Without title

Isn’t that what artists call their work when they have no friggin idea what to call it?

A couple of weeks ago I had a cup of tea with a friend who, like me, is sort of looking for someone to share his life with. He is a great guy but extremely wary after a couple of bad relationships. I could immediately see that he wasn’t going to win over the ladies with this panzer-like emotional fortress around him. I was about to get into my favorite instructional mode to point this out to him when it occurred to me that I was in the exact same boat. Up the proverbial poopoo creek without the paddle.

I don’t scowl and mistrust but I play tough as nails. Nothing can hurt me. I am totally self-contained. I don’t need anybody. I don’t ask for anything from anyone. I am so scared of being rejected that I don’t even try to get accepted.

I have – as often before – immersed myself in work and studies. Anything to drown the silence of the solitude.

Girl, oh girl (the female version of boy, oh boy) – the blasted Merry Season will get me every year. Guess what? I signed up to work at Christmas. At least I’ll feel noble towards my coworkers… Isn’t that the Christmas spirit?

Bah. Humbug.

Were you disappointed?

My last blog was quite out of character, wasn’t it?

I am witty. I am sometimes sarcastic, even scathing. Downright poisonous at times. But never raw or vulnerable. I apologize for the aberration.

Well, I did meet someone through a dating site recently. Boded well. Similar likes and dislikes, some physical attraction and a few nice encounters. Then he dumped me on my birthday. Well, can’t really talk about dumping when it is someone you’ve only been seeing for three weeks. My initial reaction was relief – if this is how my birthday was going to be with him, what on earth would Christmas have been like!

Then the rejection reaction kicked in. For about five minutes. I did a little analyzing:

  • If he just wasn’t that into me, there’s nothing I can do. I am not attracted to everybody and not everybody is attracted to me.
  • If he is dealing with stuff that he needs to sort out (as he said), I am well out of it.
  • If I did or said something that he didn’t like and couldn’t talk to me about it, there is absolutely no future there. Communication is key
  • He was honest and I have no bad feelings about this. I am sure as hell not going to start making them up!

Lucky me – I’m on the prowl again…. ta-DA!

BTW. I hope you all know that there is a lot more to my life than the dating scene but that is what I am choosing to write about. Because it is funny and human and sometimes sad and scary. And always interesting.

(long pause)

Almost a year! Goodness, gracious. I wonder how I ever thought I could be a real blogger.

Anyway. There is a reason.

Well, boys and girls, I fell in love. The heart-thumping, stomach-flipping all-consuming kind. (At my age … I cringe). I was with him for six months. And he was just not in a place in his life where he could love me back.

It took enormous willpower to fall out of love. But I am damn proud I did. Because then I can be open to the possibility of a life with someone who can love me back.

Many of you know him. He may even read this himself. And here is what I have to say about that: he is still an amazing, wonderful human being. And so am I.

Life is still full of unlived moments and possibilities and surprises and fun.

Another one bites the dust…

As it wound down to Christmas, the traffic on the dating sites revved up. One particular specimen of the male kind caught my interest and I his. Just before my departure to Germany (where I am spending the holidays), he called me on the phone and we had a long, nice chat. Every day since we’ve been in touch through Facebook and two days ago, we settled on a real date in the real world, for when I got home.

Yesterday, after venturing into the antechamber to hell (a shopping centre), I was looking forward to a lively chat with this nice gentleman but he was off-line and had not responded to my message. Today, after some more shopping with my sister, I log on and see that he is still off-line but:

His Facebook status today has changed and everyone is wishing him and his girlfriend the best of luck with their official RELATIONSHIP.

Is there anyone out there who can explain this sort of behavior? I honestly don’t understand. I know this guy’s name, where he works, his phone number, his address, we have mutual friends…

This time, I kind of want to get even. Just enough to make him uncomfortable. Hmmm… some evil plots swirl about and I’ll wait for just the right moment to pluck one out of my brain and set it in action…. (insert diabolical laughter).

Pissed off woman on the prowl!

The mid-sentence disappearance act. And the general disappearance act.

Ever since I started researching the dating sites (nothing to do with my quest for a boyfriend, cough, cough, ahem….), I have regularly entered into conversations where the men leave it mid-sentence, never to be heard from again.

What is that? I keep seeing myself sitting in a cozy coffee shop with a guy across the table and we are talking. Then he says something like: “I love lobster too, in fact…” and then he gets up, grabs his jacket and walks out. Whaddafook?

Once again, last night, I had a conversation like this. I scoured it afterwards to see whether I had given offense but I hadn’t. I am positive. The conversation was innocuous with tiny hints of flirtation. The last sentence he wrote was: “My older granddaughter was visiting today”. And I wrote back: “How nice”.

I wouldn’t be giving this any thought except that it keeps happening.

And I have just had another great money-making thought (I have these about fourteen times a day and I have yet to make money out of any of them). This one I will share with you and ask you what you think. How about a course for men to find what they are looking for and actually manage to “seal the deal”. When I walk past the magazine stands I see countless covers where women are given advice on how to “get a man”, “keep a man”, “make a man happy”… The same women often end up divorcing the man the got, kept and made happy because he was not making much of an effort. Or, which I believe is probably the reason, he had no idea how to do that.

I am actually a firm believer in making yourself happy and not relying on others but in a relationship, you are not in isolation and what one does and says affects the other.

Whilst surfing the dating sites, I have come across so many men who are really looking for a stable, loving relationship and going about it in ways that make me cringe and feel truly sorry for them. They affect a style that doesn’t suit them and which they cannot keep up with for more than three sentences. They say disparaging things to appear macho. They refuse to give out names and/or pictures because they don’t want to “be harassed”. They play hard to get. And when I say: “OK, never mind. Good luck,” they don’t understand where they went wrong.

Oh, and they lie. Common! In a country as small as Iceland, if you lie on a dating site, one of two things is going to happen:

1. You can’t tell me who you are because then I’ll know you lied. Therefore, we can never meet and what – pray, tell – is the point then? Unless you are looking for cybersex, which you won’t get from me.
2. We meet, I find out you lied and I won’t see you again. You may even be stuck with the bill for my coffee cup!

Some lie to make themselves look worse… a guy started a conversation with me last week and his profile said he had 9 children. NINE. I was curious to say the least. Turns out he only has seven. The “nine children” thing was a joke… I really am at a loss for words over that one. Well, we did have a conversation and he was instantly smitten. To the point where I almost felt uneasy. Thank God I am out of child-bearing range… Anyway, we decided to meet for lunch one day. I got various texts telling me how much he looked forward to it, decorated with hearts… I was having second thoughts but didn’t want to renege on my promise. On D-day the weather was awful but I braved the storm, scraped the car and set off for downtown for our lunch date. I was parking the car when I got his text: “I hurt my knee yesterday so I am at home and won’t be able to make it to lunch”. This was THREE MINUTES before the designated time. I haven’t heard from him again. Not even an apology.

If there are women out there reading this who do NOT live in Iceland and who ARE also using dating sites, I’d be very happy to hear from you. What is going on elsewhere? Are we experiencing the same things or is this a specific Icelandic problem?

X-rated X-mas?

It’s been dead calm for a while. Until last night, when all hell broke lose. When I opened my emails, I had 7 or 8 messages from different dating sites. When I logged on to one of them, I was swarmed by men wanting to chat. At a certain point I was juggling five discussions at the same time. All of which quickly led to badly spelled smut.

Seems like all the desparados, loners and losers are making a real effort to get some for Christmas.

I feel sorry for them. But not sorry enough for a mercy fuck.