On my last solo night out, I found myself to be SO depressed afterwards...I'm not sure I want to do it again. But not because it wasn't fun nor interesting ... it just left me feeling....empty? Lonely? I'm not sure.
On Friday, May 4th, I was working a "closing shift" at work, meaning I got out at 6:00pm instead of my normal 4:30. I figured this was the perfect opportunity to take myself out after work to the nearby Ruby Tuesdays before heading home. I had gotten a gift card for my birthday back in February, and hadn't used it yet. Friday is jeans day at work, so I wasn't wearing my scrubs, but I did change out of my T-shirt, thanks to baby boogers.
I go into the bar area, it's small. The bartender is an attractive tall thin gray haired man. I order a "cucumber cooler". It has fresh cucumber and mint leaves in it and a lot of lime. "Is it too limey for you?" He asks. Oh no, this is perfect! I order a pasta with veggies and chicken.
There's a group of three men having drinks at the bar, they appear to be friends and regulars. They know the bartender by name, and also seem to know other patrons. I over hear their names. There's "Noodle", he appears to be in his 40s with a little salt in his hair, kind of in an attractive way. There's "Dave", he's big and round and loud. There's "Nick", he's on the younger side, maybe 30s, and is cute in the way that that guy Nick from the "New Girl" TV series is cute!
One patron goes over to Nick, he appears to have some kind of impairment, he keeps repeating the same sentences as he shows something to Nick on his phone. Nick is patient and kind, and talks to this guy politely. They seem to have spoken before. Meanwhile, Nick's friends are laughing at this other guy. Nick says to the patron, "Ignore these two, they are assholes!!!" THANK YOU NICK! Their laughter was pissing me off as this other patron was trying to explain something and was obviously having trouble (in a way that was not due to alcohol consumption).
I'm pretty much done with my dinner, and a man with a bright yellow shirt open on the collar, and a surfer style wooden beaded necklace around his neck, comes and sits next to me at the corner of the bar. He's quite talkative, telling me all about the dinner deals you can get online and through Groupon. Like two meals for the price of one (he's a big round guy BTW). And the free Friday buffet at the Orange Ale House (from which he has just left). He said he's single, so he eats out a lot and is always looking for coupons.
Groupon guy goes to talk to that same patron that was trying to talk to Nick, and Big Dave turns to me and gets talkative. I hear his life story, he's a mailman and he's moving so his kitchen is all packed up and he can't cook.
I have leftovers on my plate and my bartender brings me a box. I try to lift the plate, a couple times, but it is too heavy. He's headed back my way and I ask him for help. "Of course!" He says, "I was just going to do that for you!". Very nice. I had to box my own dinner at Applebees. Heavy plate there too.
Big Dave's friend "Noodle" is now here again and asks me, "What's for dinner? " Do you mean what WAS for dinner? Because obviously I had been there eating next to them. I am getting up to leave and Noodle says, "Drive home safe! "
I got home safe of course, only one drink. All hopped up and tired at the same time, and became utterly depressed. If I had stayed, I could have had some more nice conversations with those guys. But did I really want to? I did, but I didn't want to seem desperate for company. I only talk to my coworkers when we have a chance, and to my parents once a week. So I WAS desperate. And that felt awful. And I didn't know how my interest would go over with these guys. I didn't want to get hit on. But talking with a man, even with an unattractive one, was a nice change.
Nick was cute though, I think I caught his eye in the mirror behind the bar.
I don't think I'll go out solo again for a while. Luckily I ran into a friend at the grocery store a couple weeks ago, and she invited me to go out to a thing all the wives are going to next Saturday night. That should be fun, and not at all awkward I hope. Especially since I thought I was going to be one of those wives in that group...and haven't seen or really heard from them at all.
Saturday, May 19, 2018
How He Would "Punish" Me....and stopped wanting to see me
Someone told me, that to help get over this last big break up, that I should not linger on the good times that I was missing, but remember how bad things got for me, and how miserable I was. Now, this was not from a licensed professional, it was from my mom. My poor mother suffered from months of emails from me, when I was feeling neglected, useless, and at my wit's end. And my mother had so very much wanted him to be a permanent member in our family. She adored him. So I'll write about some of the bad stuff.
There were a lot of things that started going sour last summer. He started doing things to, in a sense, punish me. And we stopped sharing dinners together for a while.
Sundays were always for him. Back when I worked nights and weekends, I always had Sundays off unless there were certain events that I had to work. And I spent all of those Sundays with Him. We would spend the day together. We may have done something fun, like going for a walk or a hike or visiting our families. But mostly we spent them doing His errands together, working around His yard, maybe taking an afternoon nap, listening to music, talking, and cooking a nice meal, having a couple of drinks and watching a movie or a few shows on TV or netflix. I LOVED SUNDAYS. I loved spending that time with him and helping him out.
One summer Sunday night I was particularly upset. Not with him, but about something else. We talked about it, but at bedtime, I was lying there seething while I listened to him breathe. I thought he had been asleep, and I couldn't sleep. So I quietly crept out of bed, went downstairs and poured myself a stiff drink to try to settle down. It was warm and nice outside, so I paced around out there as I ranted on Facebook expressing my feelings while I thought he slept. Well, he comes storming out..."What the hell are you doing??!!" I tell him I couldn't sleep, was upset, thought he was asleep etc. "Why the hell don't you just go home then!" I tell him well maybe I will! But I don't. I settle down and quietly come up to bed a bit later, a tad tipsy, but fell right to sleep. I don't know if he'd fallen asleep or not, he didn't acknowledge me.
After that night he told me, "Sundays don't work for me anymore". I wasn't allowed at his place. For weeks on Sundays he'd come over for maybe an hour or two to my place. He'd either eat dinner or not. At some point we transitioned to it being ok for me to spend Sundays at his place again. We didn't really see each other any other days. Most Saturdays, but not all, and only briefly during the week, but not always.
There was one night I went over to his place directly after work. It may have been a Saturday when I was still working weekends (but never Sundays). Usually, when I would go to his place for dinner after work, he'd either have been prepping a dinner to cook for us, or have a take out menu ready for us to order from. So I get there in my work clothes, put my leftovers from lunch in his fridge, and see fresh ears of corn in there. And I see chicken defrosting on the counter.
Oooh! What's for dinner tonight!? "What the hell, am I supposed to be cooking for you all day?" Um....it looked like you were preparing something...."Why do you think it's for you?!!" (Um, maybe because I was coming over to have dinner with you....) "Well, I was going to cook for us but now I'm not going too!!!!" (Ok, wtf...) I think we may have ended up ordering take out that night....what the heck did I say wrong?
And then there's the nights that he would come to my place. He would only stay long enough for dinner and a show on Netflix. But that stopped. I would always offer him a choice in advance. Such as hey...I can cook either this or this, or we can go out, whatever you prefer. I didn't want to dictate to him what we both shall be eating. Because sometimes you are in the mood for something else, am I right? Well no.
"Why do I have to make all the decisions?!" Sorry, I just wanted to give you a choice. I knew he didn't like being told what to do. That's why I liked offering him a say in it. So he would come over, and I would ask, should I cook this or that? Or shall I take you out or order pizza? "I'm not hungry", he would say. "Eat what you want." Many of those nights I went hungry. I lost my appetite, or didn't want to cook if he wasn't going to share the meal with me. After a while I gave up. I'd cook something. Either he'd eat it or be silent and sullen while I ate and tried to encourage him to have some.
Ok, so you don't want to have dinner with me....do you want to watch a movie? "Whatever you want to do". So I'd find a movie, with no input from him, and watch it with him next to me not paying attention to me, nor watching the show.
I had begun to believe he was suffering from depression. I tip toed around him, trying to make him happy, changed my behaviors with him. Catered towards him and his moods.
Ultimately I failed. I couldn't make him feel happy. AND he blamed his depressive moods on me. That it was all my fault.
There were a lot of things that started going sour last summer. He started doing things to, in a sense, punish me. And we stopped sharing dinners together for a while.
Sundays were always for him. Back when I worked nights and weekends, I always had Sundays off unless there were certain events that I had to work. And I spent all of those Sundays with Him. We would spend the day together. We may have done something fun, like going for a walk or a hike or visiting our families. But mostly we spent them doing His errands together, working around His yard, maybe taking an afternoon nap, listening to music, talking, and cooking a nice meal, having a couple of drinks and watching a movie or a few shows on TV or netflix. I LOVED SUNDAYS. I loved spending that time with him and helping him out.
One summer Sunday night I was particularly upset. Not with him, but about something else. We talked about it, but at bedtime, I was lying there seething while I listened to him breathe. I thought he had been asleep, and I couldn't sleep. So I quietly crept out of bed, went downstairs and poured myself a stiff drink to try to settle down. It was warm and nice outside, so I paced around out there as I ranted on Facebook expressing my feelings while I thought he slept. Well, he comes storming out..."What the hell are you doing??!!" I tell him I couldn't sleep, was upset, thought he was asleep etc. "Why the hell don't you just go home then!" I tell him well maybe I will! But I don't. I settle down and quietly come up to bed a bit later, a tad tipsy, but fell right to sleep. I don't know if he'd fallen asleep or not, he didn't acknowledge me.
After that night he told me, "Sundays don't work for me anymore". I wasn't allowed at his place. For weeks on Sundays he'd come over for maybe an hour or two to my place. He'd either eat dinner or not. At some point we transitioned to it being ok for me to spend Sundays at his place again. We didn't really see each other any other days. Most Saturdays, but not all, and only briefly during the week, but not always.
There was one night I went over to his place directly after work. It may have been a Saturday when I was still working weekends (but never Sundays). Usually, when I would go to his place for dinner after work, he'd either have been prepping a dinner to cook for us, or have a take out menu ready for us to order from. So I get there in my work clothes, put my leftovers from lunch in his fridge, and see fresh ears of corn in there. And I see chicken defrosting on the counter.
Oooh! What's for dinner tonight!? "What the hell, am I supposed to be cooking for you all day?" Um....it looked like you were preparing something...."Why do you think it's for you?!!" (Um, maybe because I was coming over to have dinner with you....) "Well, I was going to cook for us but now I'm not going too!!!!" (Ok, wtf...) I think we may have ended up ordering take out that night....what the heck did I say wrong?
And then there's the nights that he would come to my place. He would only stay long enough for dinner and a show on Netflix. But that stopped. I would always offer him a choice in advance. Such as hey...I can cook either this or this, or we can go out, whatever you prefer. I didn't want to dictate to him what we both shall be eating. Because sometimes you are in the mood for something else, am I right? Well no.
"Why do I have to make all the decisions?!" Sorry, I just wanted to give you a choice. I knew he didn't like being told what to do. That's why I liked offering him a say in it. So he would come over, and I would ask, should I cook this or that? Or shall I take you out or order pizza? "I'm not hungry", he would say. "Eat what you want." Many of those nights I went hungry. I lost my appetite, or didn't want to cook if he wasn't going to share the meal with me. After a while I gave up. I'd cook something. Either he'd eat it or be silent and sullen while I ate and tried to encourage him to have some.
Ok, so you don't want to have dinner with me....do you want to watch a movie? "Whatever you want to do". So I'd find a movie, with no input from him, and watch it with him next to me not paying attention to me, nor watching the show.
I had begun to believe he was suffering from depression. I tip toed around him, trying to make him happy, changed my behaviors with him. Catered towards him and his moods.
Ultimately I failed. I couldn't make him feel happy. AND he blamed his depressive moods on me. That it was all my fault.
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