I Make Poor Choices

She fucking did to me again.  I can’t believe she lied this time.  Actually, I did it to myself, I know what I’m getting into.  I know how she struggles with telling the truth.  I really should only blame myself.

My ex and I started talking after an 8 month hiatus.  Long story short, we hung out last weekend.  Anyone who know us can tell exactly where this story is headed.  It’s always the same.  One or both of us fucks up and everything falls apart.  It all ends in tears or anger and everyone’s sad.  Wah boo hoo

She lied about fucking someone of course. I don’t even care she fucked someone else, I care she lied.  Yes, it’s none of my business because I’ve been sleeping with other people.  But, I asked her flat out and she lied to my face.  She could have told me the truth or chose to decline to answer.  Instead, she lied.

Now I’m annoyed at her and want to walk away.  But there is a part of me that I wants to be spiteful and get back at her.  But why?  I’ll be the one who ends up feeling like a dick and having to deal with the consequences of my actions.  Cleaning up the wreckage of using someone as a pawn to hurt her.  It’s childish, stupid and makes me want to slap myself.  But that’s where my brain still wants to go by default.

Einstein never actually said ” The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results,'” but whoever did was absolutely right.  I want her to change and be the person she used to be.  I know that’s wrong and I shouldn’t want to change her, but I do.  I want her to be better and hold me accountable to be better as well.  But my fantasy is far from reality.

I act like I’m her father-figure, telling her how she should be living her life.  Meanwhile I’m a hypocrite who keeps making shitty choices in my own life.  My need to control is one of my biggest character flaws and the reason many of my relationships fail.

I want to be a family with her and her son.  Being with them was the only time I ever felt connected to a family unit.  I cling to that feeling.  Occasionally I let it go, but somehow it brings me back.  I’m stuck in a loop. A loop of my doing.

Choices and actions dictate life.  Making shitty choices gets you stuck in a loop chasing your dick around like a toddler just hoping life will get better.  Making difficult, positive choices can feel uncomfortable and won’t guarantee your life will become everything you’ve ever imagined, but it’s an opportunity to get out of the vicious loop of insanity.  I’ve said it before, life boils down to three things: Action, choices and chances.  The more action you take, the better choices you make, the more chances you get at living the life you want.

Bound up

I’m mentally constipated.  I feel like I have nothing to say at all.  I’m procrastinating from writing so often that my wrist is sore from jacking off so much.  That’s my go-to when I want to procrastinate.

I want to fire up my favorite site and have at it instead of trying to get some coherent words out of my head and onto paper.  It’s almost painful to write.  An uneasy feeling creeps up inside of me as soon as I start.  It reminds me of the anxiety I feel when I’m withdrawing from drugs.

My feet and legs are restless.  My ass checks clench tight.  I’m grinding my teeth until my jaw gets sore.  All because I feel the need to write.

Just knowing I feel this way makes me realize how badly I need to write.  No amount of reading, working out or jerking off can ever cleanse my mind the way writing can.  I need to bleed onto the page and purge my soul in order to get right. That’s the fix I need.

Writing is the one thing that’s truly mine.  My thoughts from my fucked up mind.  The more often I write, the less anxiety I feel. I feel lighter without my thoughts weighing me down and running wild in my psyche.

When I write to inspire, I feel inspired.  I feel obligated to practice the actions I preach.  I don’t want to be another hypocrite tauting some bullshit I don’t believe in.  Although, I have and will continue to contradict myself, that’s an unfortunate part of life.

I have to focus on momentum going in the right direction. What muse is calling me to write today and what will I produce?  Being creative makes life appealing.  Birthing something which only existed in my mind and giving it life with words is what I crave to do.

Then why do it fight it?  Why is it so hard to capture my ideas and present them for myself and others too see.  There is no pressure from anywhere other than from within.  Relax and release that tension.  Let the words flow.  Then I can create peace.

Sauna Thoughts

Kid Rock’s American Bad Ass is blaring in my headphones as I sweat uncontrollably in the sauna after my morning cardio session.  Yes, I’m a little ashamed to admit I’m listening to Kid Rock.  But I’m white trash and it worked this morning.

I have a full day ahead of me.  The choice is mine to either use it to its’ fullest, or let it pass me by.  To quote Kid Rock “I’m gonna fuck some hoes after I rock this place;” metaphorically speaking of course.  That’s how I want to spend my day.  Being present and appreciating that every day I’m above ground is a gift.

It’s easy to take life for granted when we all wake up with our anxiety and our problems.  They don’t disappear when we fall asleep.  They are right there waiting for us in the morning.

If we don’t have anything to be anxious about, our minds are very creative and can easily whip something up for us to stress about. We aren’t like our ancestors who woke up with real problems, worrying about getting eaten by a lion or some shit.  But we can certainly stress over driving to work in traffic or struggle over the existential question, “why am I here.”  I seem to focus on the latter quite often, and not in a healthy, introspective way.  Instead I put pressure on myself to do something great or my life is meaningless.  That’s always a fun conversation in my head.

It’s all bullshit to some extent.  Life is what you choose it to be.  I’m jealous of others who don’t search for meaning and do whatever their primal instincts feel in that moment.  It doesn’t seem like the the best long term solution, but it seems like a shitload of fun.

Life can have meaning to you or it can be a rat race devoid of any substance until you pass on and your matter floats back into the universe.  I’m not certain one choice is better than the other.  It’s simply perspective.

August 6th, 2017

I can’t sleep, my concentration sucks and my balls hurt.  I’m closing out the first week of an experiment – masturbating only once per week and no porn.

I’ve gone a week without masturbating before and it wasn’t an issue.  However, it wasn’t a goal I set out to accomplish.  Since this was a conscious choice and an experiment, my mind wants to create conflict.  It’s the pleasure principle, seek out pleasure while avoiding discomfort and pain.

I decided to try this experiment because I struggle with intimacy and sex.  I don’t feel a connection with my partners.  I’m desensitized from years of causal sex with multiple partners, porn and masturbation.

I place very little value on sex, so it no longer feels exciting and special.   It feels commonplace and mundane, like folding laundry.  But it strokes my ego and makes me feel like a man, a conqueror.

Sex seems like a great idea during the pursuit, but when the physical act occurs, I’m in my head thinking about everything else but sex.  I’m hoping whoever “she” is this time, will leave immediately afterwards so I can be alone.

It hasn’t always felt this way.  There have been certain people I genuinely loved and felt a deep connection with them.  That’s when sex is magical and feels wonderfully intense on more than a physical level.  It’s been quite some time since I felt that, but I’m getting off track.

I’m hoping by learning to control my sexual urges, like masturbation, I can create a renewed sense of excitement around sex.  I believe if I can make sexual relief a scarce resource,  it will feel more valuable to me.  This is my attempt to rewire my brain sexually in order to develop a deep appreciate and connection.

Since I started this experiment I have not been able to sleep well.  When I finally fall asleep, I wake up every two hours and struggle to fall back asleep.  I’m averaging maybe 4 hours of sleep a night.  It’s effecting my physical appearance and energy.  I’m very tired but my mind won’t let me sleep. I’m on edge.

When I lay down in bed and close my eyes, my OCD kicks in with sexual fantasies, which are very difficult to stop.  The fantasies are exciting and feel good to think about.  But they are still ruminations and that’s a problem.  I feel like a junkie needing his fix, obsessing over his drug of choice.

Physically, I’ve noticed an increase in lower belly fat and an overall softer appearance to my body.  My physical strength in the gym has decreased and I struggle to finish my workouts.  Increased cortisol from lack of sleep could be the cause.

As I’m writing this all I can think about is how bad I want to masturbate so I can feel better.  I can’t believe how difficult this has been.  I’m jammed up mentally and physically.  I’ve blue balled myself, I didn’t realize that was possible.

All of these symptoms could be totally psychosomatic.  My urges to masturbate are now driven by my belief that as soon as I do, my body will return to homeostasis. My balls won’t hurt, I’ll be able to sleep, my physical strength and appearance will come back and my mental clarity will return.

The positive side effects of this experiment have come in the form of increased output and productivity.  Even though I’ve been exhausted from lack of sleep, I’ve started accomplishing more during my day.  I’ve gotten back to writing daily, reading, learning and applying more.  I’m more focused at work and my sales have increased. (more…)