There it is... %$^&ing feelings...

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So I've been watching TV today. Californication, to be specific. I hadn't bothered with season 6 until today, as the series, one must admit, has gotten a little long in the tooth, so I got caught up today.

There's this character that was introduced this season. A gorgeous rock groupie with a penchant for low-level recreational drug use and laid back relationships. Classy (as classy as rock groupies that we meet in rehab can be), intelligent, and an encyclopedic knowledge of rock music... I liked her from the getgo. She quickly became possibly my favorite character on the show. I didn't realize until a few episodes in just why she struck such a nerve.

I've alluded on here to a past lover that loved me but I didn't love. That's not entirely true. I did love her, to an extent, but was held back. She was amazing. Brilliant, eloquent, spontaneous, beautiful... ironically all the things that I am not. She was the only person I've ever met who had a music collection as large as my own. We conducted trades, she introduced me to Air, I gave her Zevon. She was a writer, as fascinated by literature as I am. She turned me on to St. Thomas More, I led her to Garcia Marquez. She brought chaos into my life, and I brought order into hers and kept her grounded, or at least I tried. She was a true free spirit. I loved that side of her.

If she were in that state all of the time, things would have been perfect. That was not to be. She'd lose control. Her anxieties, usually absent when she wasn't drunk, would drive her into a paranoia such that she would look at me exactly as I would think Winston looked at O'Brian in the closing of 1984. Confusion in her eyes that said it all; She'd lost control. She was also so desperate to feel camaraderie that she would often disappear if anyone, anywhere was having a party. Any other thought vanished. And when she drank... I tried to keep her sober, but I failed. Her drinking pulled out all of the stops, and her demons all came out to play. Eventually her irresponsibility led her into dangerous situations. She was raped by some guys that she was trying to con into buying her booze. Then she tried to kill herself. Then she got drunk and punched a cop and caused a severe amount of damage to his squad car. For such a small girl, she could be a real spitfire when she was drunk. As much as I cared for her when she was balanced and sober, I couldn't deal with it. I hated myself for not being capable of saving her, and I hated her for making me feel that way. It was this that kept it from being real love, from being a real relationship. One of my greatest regrets is that despite no lack of interest from either side, we were never officially an item, and this is why. She's the one that got away.

It's been revealed to me recently by a friend that I am a grand master at suppressing feelings. Sadness, happiness, love, hate, I switch them all off. I exist at a constant, a state of generally nothing, a perfect mildness, and I can keep it up for years. Try to match my unemotional stamina, I challenge you. Sometimes, something comes along, something minor and unexpected, that can knock me out of my zen like balance. Seeing the girl on TV today... she was so utterly like the girl I knew during the good times. Even her voice, her accent & inflection, the color of her hair, the same. The same laid back way she always carried herself during the good times... I'm not the kind of guy to fall in love with or feel attracted in any way to fictional characters. The similarities were so striking, though, that I find myself almost falling in love with my ex again. All of those feelings come flooding back.

In AA, they teach that addicts and drunks have a bad habit of remembering only the good times. Apparently, that's only the case with chemicals, because for a year and a half, I was addicted to her, and I remember everything. The good, the bad. I feel as though I've been sucker punched by the biggest, nastiest SoB on the planet, armed with a crowbar. I want like hell to see her. I want to visit her in prison before I leave the state for good. Maybe talk some %$&* out, get some closure. I don't think, however, that that would be good for either of us. Christ, I have no idea what to do about this.

I don't know why I posted this. I guess it just feels better to put your thoughts out there, you know? Been in enough rehabs and meetings and therapy sessions to know that. So there it is. And Mr. Moderator, I wasn't sure where to post this, as it's both me being pathetic and mopey, and having to do with romance, so I felt it could go in either L&D or the Haven. Who gets it? You decide.

Fueledbycoffee.

I often do the same thing. Get frustrated and if it just doesn't go away, or I can't sort it out, I'll write it down. It'll probably take several pages and several hours. But it does help.

Your experience with your girl almost parallels my own, different girl, different situation, and different addiction. There are some beautifully messed up girls out there.

I'm a sucker for pretty. But the girl I was with drained my soul so bad for 3 years I had to force her away from me. It was a hard thing to do, and a hard lesson to learn. I've always said that I refuse to harden my heart from the experience, but practicality and self-preservation makes a hard heart a necessity.


With regard to your subject heading; Feelings.

Most of the time I'm very emotionally stable. I'm happy and love to laugh. I have a stupid sense of humour and see the obvious irony in things. But when I go to pieces, I go badly. The worst so far took me 3 weeks to recover my composure. It's more typically a week. That is to say, I'll be an emotional wreck for that long. I fear my mother passing away will destroy me for long period.

The idea of talking to someone in prison in order to get closure of unwanted longings is a grotesquely selfish impulse. Imprisonment is deprivation; that's what it's for. But you want to speak to the imprisoned, one who is deprived of almost everything, because of your urge to escape feeling longing for this imprisoned woman. And you're wanting to do this before exercising your freedom to move to another place.

I agree, that would not be good. I think it's mind blindness at it's worst.



Humans feel loss and pain. It can be intense. Life goes on. You put one foot in front of another.

Don't shut it out, ride out the wave. It's when you don't that it floods you when least expected..

Words of wisdom.

Truth. Honestly, I think it's a neurotic symptom of mine... I never seem to find the well adjusted ones (If there are any. I'm increasingly convinced that well adjusted females are a myth). Even if I did, honestly, crazy girls are more interesting. It's like drugs, man. Sobriety's nice & all, but sometimes, you just wanna put your hand in the pretty fire. Then you spent the next couple years recovering from the burn.



Funny how that works. The fallout from the collapse of this relationship was the most recent implosion that I've had, but it was not pretty. I was out for a month. Psych wards, bars rehab, bars, more psych wards, more rehab. Then, eventually, click. If I survive the explosion, then I'm suddenly fine with it.