Autumn Changes

This morning I have a beautiful woman sleeping soundly in my bed. Her long red hair spread out across the pillow; her bright blue eyes closed and dreaming. 


I’ve been seeing Lexie for over a month. It’s not very long, but we’ve gotten to know each other quite well. I met her online. When we first started talking, I was drawn to her sense of humor and ability to discuss philosophy. On our first date, she brought me tiramisu because she knows it’s my favorite dessert. We slept together on our second date. A month later, she is moving in. 

Clearly, we are moving very fast. We both know and understand the risks of moving so quickly. She wouldn’t actually be moving in right now, but she had to move out of her old place and had nowhere else to go. She has been living with her grandmother since she was a teenager. I don’t want to speak poorly of her family on here, but I will say that it is mentally and emotionally unhealthy for her to continue living with her grandmother at this time and that is why she must move out. 

I ended things with Shanna as soon as I met Lexie because it was obvious that Shanna and I just weren’t clicking, and Lexie and I were great together. Shanna and I are still friends. Mel and I are having trouble with the time difference and each of us dating other people. She is seeing a girl named Chloe. 

I don’t know what will happen between me and Mel. We still love each other; we always will. We can’t be together, so we’re seeing other people whom we both really like. It’s still very hard on us. I have done well saving money, so I am confident that I will have enough money saved to visit her in Australia next year in July. I want to go for her birthday (July 16).  I don’t know if Lexie and I will still be together in a year, or if Mel and Chloe will. I don’t think that either of us should be in a relationship when I visit. 


I have been working two jobs for a little while now. My second job is elderly care. I take care of a sweet 92-year-old woman named Jean. That job has become my main source of income, and I love it. I love Jean and I love the work I do there. Some days I work up to 14 hours a day between the two jobs. I was afraid this would happen if I got a second job. I am a workaholic and I have a hard time prioritizing my health and well-being over financial gain. I am admittedly money-obsessed. I would say money is the only thing I hoard. I’m great at saving money; I always have been. I think it’s because I grew up in poverty. I’m not making millions, but I’m making enough to feel secure and not worry about emergencies. 

Speaking of emergencies, my cat got sick recently and I had to take him to the vet. It was the most wonderful feeling to be able to make an appointment and have the funds to treat him immediately. If I had still been living in my old place under my mother, I would have had to just wait out his illness. My mother wouldn’t have thought he was sick enough to even go to the vet. The way I feel about my independence here, especially financial independence, is simply indescribable. Hence my obsession with money and being a workaholic. 


I also have another roommate. His name is Brett and he’s a 19-year-old gay boy. I say “boy” because he’s still very much a child. He is not my ideal roommate, but he’s not too bad. 


All in all, I am very happy. Life is wonderful right now. Lexie makes me happy. Every other girl I’ve dated since moving here has not officially made it to the “girlfriend” status. I called them my girlfriends sometimes just because it was easier than trying to explain the causal dating thing every time, but Lexie and I are actually official. I asked her to be my girlfriend on June 23rd. 


That is all for now. Thank you for reading. 



It’s gotten really hard for me to tell what is my OCD and what is something else. I decided to make a list here to hopefully figure some of it out.

So, here are some of my quirks. I’m sure a lot of them will seem really rude, but I need to be honest.


  1. It seems fitting that the first one should be my obsessive concern that I’ve said or done something wrong. Fitting because I have a feeling by the end of this list I will be regretting much of it and worrying. I’m fairly certain this is an OCD trait, because OCD has a lot to do with obsessive thoughts. This one is so bad for me that I still regret stupid things I said when I was a kid. 
  2. I cannot use cleaning rags because I throw them away. I have cats, so there is always cat fur when I’m cleaning things. As soon as there is some kind of hair on the rag, it becomes trash. I just don’t don’t know how to clean rags properly. Hair seems to stick to them eternally. Instead of spending a fortune on rags and throwing them away, I buy a certain kind of sponge for cleaning. This sponge is made of a material that doesn’t hold onto hair, so I can clean it. I bleach my sponges regularly. I have several of them for different things. I have some for the bathroom and some for the kitchen. I even have one just for the walls. I don’t know if this is OCD or just common sense.
  3. I have two closets. I have all my clothes arranged from summer to winter shirts, and pants in the smaller closet. I love my closets. They’re exceptionally organized. Maybe this comes from the fact that I never had an organized closet growing up. Closets were where you shoved everything that didn’t have a place when I was a kid. When my grandfather passed away, I bought a nice outfit to wear to his funeral because I didn’t own anything nice. I was living with my mother and there was nowhere for me to put the outfit where it would be safe, so I gave it to my mother. She put it in her closet, I think. When I was moving, I tried to find it. I opened her closet… that was a mistake. There was an avalanche of stuff and it was clear I would never see my outfit again. Those are the closets I’m used to, so mine are beautiful to me. I hang all of my clothes facing the same direction, right-side-out, perfectly organized. No one else is ever allowed to put my clothes away because they will do it wrong. This could be OCD…
  4. I don’t anyone rearranging anything in my home. Everything has its place and it makes me angry if someone changes that. This one is my OCD.
  5. I have routines which are very likely OCD. I eat certain foods together, or with specific utensils, or while watching certain shows. Some examples are: I always eat Chinese food with chopsticks. I can’t even fathom using a fork. I prefer chopsticks in general, though. They are like using your fingers without the mess. I eat bagel bites with extra cheese, garlic powder and parsley flakes while watching my “stupid shows” like The Simpsons or Family Guy. I always eat french bread and grapefruit. It doesn’t feel right to eat just french bread. I want my grapefruit with it.
  6. I can’t stand the smell of food unless I’m hungry. My mother bought me some sweet smelling candle-like stuff once. It smells like fresh baked cookies, and I hate it. I got rid of it. It’s nauseating. I only want to smell cookies when I’m about to eat them. Then I want the smell gone. I hate cooking in my house because it’s so hard to get rid of the smell when I’m done. I wash all the dishes and spray air freshener, but it lingers. It’s horrible. I don’t know if this is OCD.
  7. More routines or habits are pacing while I talk on the phone (I can’t sit still on the phone), drinking coffee whenever I blog (hence the name of my blog), and playing logic games on my phone while watching a movie or show. These could be OCD.
  8. Ever since I was a child I have separated my food. I used to take my cheeseburgers apart when my parents took me to McDonald’s. I would separate the whole thing and eat everything by itself. I would eat all of it, but not together. I’d eat the bun first, then pick the cheese off the burger, eat the pickles, then finally eat the burger. I still do this with a lot of foods. For the most part I will eat things all together, but there are times when I just don’t want to and I’ll pull it all apart and eat it separately. Probably OCD.
  9. I’m gay, and I absolutely hate it when men try to touch me. A guy at work always tries to hug me and I just want to kick him for it. Maybe it has to do with them wanting to date or sleep with me, though. My boss, who is a man, can hug me and I don’t mind. He’s like an uncle to me. That one guy at work is always trying to hook up with me, though, so that’s probably what it is. I doubt this one is OCD.
  10. I can’t stand people teasing me. It drives me crazy. I never give the expected reaction. I don’t even know what people expect from me when they tease me. I have no clue how to handle it at all. I generally force out fake laughter, which is not even remotely convincing, but that doesn’t seem to be the right reaction. Also probably not OCD.
  11. People talking to me about unimportant things annoys me. When my neighbors try to make small talk, it takes all of my willpower to be polite and not just walk away mid-sentence. People talking about important things can annoy me, too, though, if they don’t know what they’re talking about. Also probably not OCD, but my severely lacking social skills.
  12. If I get sick, I throw away most of my food. Anything that has been in my fridge for a while, even if it is still good, has to go. I also throw away tupperware containers if food has gone bad in them. I don’t feel like I can get plastic clean enough. I don’t even want to own anything plastic. Try finding a glass water bottle, though, that fits my strict criteria. No clue if this is OCD.
  13. I have panic attacks over anything that is too dirty. I haven’t had this problem since moving into my own place, though. It happened often in the hoarded house I lived in. I remember trying to clean and hyperventilating because it was just so frightening. Definitely hoarding-related OCD.
  14. I have to wear my headphones and listen to music at work because I can’t stand listening to most people. Some of them just have voices that rub me the wrong way, and others just have nothing valuable to say. Probably not OCD… I’m probably just a jerk.
  15. I can’t stand the way it feels to file my nails. I’ve been working on this and getting a little better. I can’t stand if I bend a nail, though. If my nail bends, I will cut it off. Even after cutting it off, I can still feel that horrible feeling, though. I think this is OCD on some level.


Okay, I think that’s enough for now.


Today feels like the first day of fall. It is blissfully cool, and I feel so happy. I love this time of year. I wish it could be like this almost year-round.

So, I went to the doctor on Saturday and the ruled out low blood sugar being my issue. They basically said I seemed healthy. I knew this would happen. They did order blood work, though. They’re testing my thyroid, too. I won’t get those results for two weeks.

My boss, managers and coworkers are being really nice and understanding about my medical issues. I’ve been cut down to only three days a week, but I’m not losing my job at least.

I’ve been seeing this girl, Deven, for a little while now. She knows all about my ex and she knows I’m not even remotely over her, so we’ve been casually dating and basically just spending time together. It’s been very nice. I like her more than I thought I would.

Our first date was dinner at her house. Our second date was a passion party at my friend’s house. That was pretty hilarious. Our third date was at the beach at night. We went skinny dipping. That was interesting, exhilarating, and the night was beautiful. She spent the night last night. We didn’t have sex. Neither of us are ready for anything like that. But we fell asleep in each others arms. I woke up this morning and curled up on her chest, listening to her breathing.

She is fun; she is sweet. I enjoy spending time with her. Our first kiss was kind of amazing. My friends and I had a cookout at our place and Deven spent the night. During the cookout she sent me a text and said that she wanted to kiss me but there were so many people around. I went inside and she was holding hamburger buns. She asked if she should bring them out. I cut her off and kissed her. We also kissed on the beach. That was amazing, too.

Today feels like a good day, and I am going to enjoy it.


I feel like its been a lifetime since I posted last. Everything feels slower for me lately, though.

I’ve been ill, I guess.

I’ve had some weird “symptoms” for a long time now, but lately it’s much worse. I’ve had things like lightheadedness, confusion, fatigue, excessive thirst and dehydration for at least a few years. Now it’s a hundred times worse and interfering with my job.

I love my job and I love the people I work with, but I haven’t been able to do my job properly lately and my coworkers are understandably frustrated with me. They’re not angry or mean, just overwhelmed with having to pick up my slack. I feel terrible and I spend every day apologizing and promising to see a doctor.

My friend, Katie, is taking me to a free clinic tomorrow. I’ve spent the majority of my life talking to doctors and they don’t listen and don’t care, so I have little faith in them now. Katie promised to get me help. She promised to make sure the doctors listen for once.

I’m so weak that even holding my phone right now feels like too much effort. Breathing feels like too much effort. Everything is so difficult and takes so long. It took me all day yesterday just to clean my kitchen. I had to keep taking breaks and I would doze off whenever I sat down. I slept 9 hours last night and 10 the night before, and my exhaustion is persistent still.

Everyone has suggestions for what might be wrong. I could be diabetic or hypoglycemic. I could be severely anemic. I could have a thyroid condition. On and on and on. I need real answers from real doctors.

Blurred vision, double vision, confusion, memory loss, exhaustion, dizziness, lightheadedness, excessive thirst, muscle weakness…. Doctors in the last five years have told me that I’m fine. I decided to listen to them and assume it’s in my head. But everyone who knows me, spends time with me, asks me what’s wrong with me. They all tell me to see a doctor. It’s not in my head. Something is wrong. And now my job is suffering for it.

I do everything right. I eat right, sleep right, exercise right, and nothing helps. I’ve had blood work done, last time was 2010 I think, and it always comes back fine. I’m scared to go back to a doctor again because if they tell me again that nothing’s wrong, I’m just kind of screwed. I’m scared that no one will be able to help me and I can’t fix this on my own. Clearly ignoring it hasn’t helped. Pretending I’m fine isn’t working anymore.

I don’t even care what it is anymore. I don’t care if it’s something serious. I just want answers and treatment. I can’t lose my job. I need to be okay.

The Good

As soon as I moved to this town, I felt the energy here coursing through my spirit and changing me for the better.

Everything we do in life changes us just a little. Everything has an impact. Everything affects us in some way.
Moving here has been the biggest step in the right direction that I’ve ever made. I did it right. I made sure I was moving in the right person (my best friend), made sure I had the finances needed to make the move properly, made sure I had my pets and their needs in order, made sure I had the right moving vehicles, made sure I had a job and some means of transportation… Just made sure that everything was right. I think that’s partly why this move has been so good. The hardest part was actually finding a place to live, and at the last moment we found the perfect place. Not to sound too far out there, but there really is an energy here that is syncing with my own and guiding me in the right direction in all that I’m doing here. It is affecting me deeply and opening me up.

I’ve felt less anxious, stronger and braver. I am able to do things that I haven’t been able to do in the past. I’m meeting more people and making more friends, being more social than I ever was before.

I get judgement for being a housekeeper, but everyone has to start somewhere. I chose that position; I wanted it. On my first day of work I was offered two separate promotions. Yesterday I was offered one of them again. Clearly I’m impressing someone with my work. I’ll probably accept the promotion.

My bosses like me. They’re all working to get me more hours and better pay. I knew if I went into this job with a positive attitude and eager spirit, everything would work out and I would be happy. I’d hoped that maybe I could move up in position after proving myself, but I didn’t stress about it. I certainly never expected to be offered a promotion on my first day.

I didn’t stress about money, or transportation, or friends, or anything. I stress once in a while, it’s unavoidable. Life is just stressful sometimes. But for the most part, I don’t stress. I am more carefree than I even thought was in my nature. It’s good for me. I can be too intense sometimes.

My house is modest, I guess, compared to anyone with a higher income. Maybe it’s even smaller than normal, more run down. I don’t know. To me, it is beautiful. It is perfect. It is home. My first home. I think it’s big. My room is definitely big. I have plenty of space, and the place even almost looks empty compared to other people because April and I don’t like to keep a lot of stuff. I’m finally living in a decent sized house that’s clean and clutter-free. Moving from my mother’s hoarded trailer where I only had one room to live in, this is amazing.

I fall asleep every night listening to the sound of traffic driving by my window, and it’s somehow exhilarating and calming at the same time. Maybe because I grew up in the woods with the nearest civilization about 12 miles away. Maybe it’s less lonely knowing society is right outside my window.

I know a lot of people who can’t stand the noisy city life, but it’s comforting to me. I remember the first time I spent the night with someone in a city. I lay awake smiling by the window, listening to the sounds of the city below. The street lamp on the corner gently lit the room, glistening off the shiny decorations my friend hung from the ceiling. I knew then that I belonged in the city, not in the country with crickets and chickens. That peace, that incredible calm that overwhelmed me that one single night made me fall deeply in love with the city. Any city. I loved the lights. I loved the noise. All the cars and motorcycles, the trains passing by. I was filled with an excitement and peace that I’d never known, and I sought it since then. Now I have a little bit of that.

I’m living in a smaller town than I’d like, but for right now it is wonderful. I will someday move to New York City. My heart is there. I know that will be my home someday, but it may not be for many years yet, and that’s okay! I’m happy where I am now, and as the years pass I will enjoy every place I call home until I make it to New York. Everyone who knows me associates me with New York. I have never lived there, yet they call me a New Yorker. My mother is from New York, so I’ve even been told that I have a slight New York accent. I bet I’ll live in a few different places before getting to New York. I look forward to every single experience.

Our house is technically a duplex, just bigger than a normal one. Our duplex neighbor, Jessie, and her three little boys are the best neighbors ever. Right from the very first day we moved in, Jessie was warm and welcoming. She has made dinner for us and given us things like trash bags when we’ve run out. She has allowed us to share her washer and dryer so we didn’t have to buy our own. The washer and dryer are on the porch, so we can all use them and even help each other out with laundry. April, Jessie and I are like an odd sort of little family. April and I watch Jessie’s boys whenever she needs, we attend parties together and plan events. We take care of each others’ pets. We spend evenings on the porch sharing wine and chatting. We share our friends and go out together in groups.

My cats are just blissfully happy in the new place. I even got them a cat tree so that they’d have their own piece of furniture, complete with toys and scratching posts. They have so much room now to run and play , windows to stare out, multiple soft places to sleep, and uncountable little hiding places. One of my cats crawls up into my vanity dresser and has claimed a drawer all to himself. Whenever I can’t find him, I pull out the drawer and there he is, all curled up and sleeping peacefully.

Oh and the beach… Can’t forget the beautiful, sunny beach. I’m actually beginning to get a tan. Mostly, though, my freckles are just coming out. Haha. I love the beach and I’ve really enjoyed going with friends and taking pictures. We dance in the water and lay out in the sun. I haven’t let my fair skin keep me from the beach! It will get used to the sun. Haha.

So you see, there is so very much that is good in my life here. I’m changing every day, growing stronger and becoming better. I am so filled with gratitude for all these amazing things in my life. Good things and opportunities keep coming my way, too. In addition to my job, I’ve been able to do things on the side like cleaning houses or babysitting to earn extra money. I haven’t stressed and it’s all been working out. Things here are just amazing. I’m making friends and thoroughly enjoying my life.

I know I’ve repeated some things here that are in other posts, but thank you all for reading anyway.

The Bad

Failed relationships are so damn painful. Even more painful is trying to be friends afterwards.

My girl broke up with me, then got back together with me, and broke up with me again.

I’m bipolar, but stable. She was diagnosed bipolar just a couple months ago. I think our relationship became bipolar, too.
Because I’m bipolar, I had decided some time ago that I could not date someone who was also bipolar; at least not someone who wasn’t stable. By the time we found out, though, I was in love.

There are two sides to every story. Her side is surely different from mine, but I don’t really know what it is. This is my side.

I’ve been riding this emotional roller-coaster with her for the past two months. I’ve been 100% available to her every time she’s needed someone. She has struggled and suffered breakdowns. I’ve talked her through everything as best I could. I’ve listened and empathized, even when it hurt me to do so. I’ve given all of myself.
Currently, and for the past two months, she has been incapable of giving much back. When I’ve needed her, she’s shut me down, pushed me away, or offered nothing. I guess I could have handled it if she had just told me clearly what she could and couldn’t handle. She doesn’t want me assuming or analyzing her, obviously, but she wouldn’t really talk to me. I just don’t know what to do with that.

We used to talk about everything. She used to like that I never let anything stew, that I always wanted to talk about things. Then suddenly I couldn’t talk about anything that was upsetting me. As a result, things grew bigger and more upsetting. She knows me well and she would ask me what was wrong, but I can’t pour my heart out just to be shut down afterwards.

I can’t do the uncertain, undetermined relationship. I can’t show affection just to get none in return. I can’t give all of myself and get nothing back at all when I need it. I can’t even do this in the contexts of a friendship, let alone a romantic relationship.

I tried to help her through the bipolar stuff because I’ve been there, and she wanted my help. However, after a while she no longer wanted my help and instead perceived it as self-righteousness. That wasn’t my intent at all, and if I come off that way to people, then I need to change something. I don’t know everything about bipolar disorder. I only know what has worked for me. I see so many things in her that I’ve felt or done. I guess I didn’t word things the right way and got too intense with my suggestions.

She is such a strong person and she is capable of so much, but there’s no reason for her to have to struggle with everything or do it all on her own. I guess I handled things wrong. I don’t know. She doesn’t talk to me enough beyond an argument. I’m trying to admit my fault in this, too, but it’s kind of hard when I’m so confused about what went wrong. It’s not all on her, but I only know my perspective of the situation.

We used to feel the same way about each other and express it equally and openly. She used to shower me with love, be romantic and affectionate. She used to tell me multiple times a day how much she loved me, missed me, needed me. She used to be there for me in any way that I needed her. She used to return everything that I gave her. She used to be loving and supportive.

She had a breakdown and I suggested she see a doctor. We both suspected she was bipolar, and she is. After that, everything went downhill. I don’t know exactly what happened, but she changed completely. I have tried and tried to accept her as she is, but it’s not easy when she’s so completely different. I see glimpses of who she used to be, and think she’s returning to normal, but she’s not.

She tells me that she can’t handle any drama, and I get that, but my need for love and support shouldn’t be drama. My need for her to not brush away my feelings after pushing me to express them shouldn’t be drama.

Go back to my post “Not Okay” and that’s where I’m at lately. A little bit stronger, a little bit happier, but still not really okay. I can’t seem to accept the good and the bad in my life at the same time, so this was the bad and my next post will be the good.

Thanks for reading.


Lately, I’m finding it hard to maintain balance in my life. There’s so much good and so much bad going on right now. I don’t know if I should wait until things are better before I continue blogging, or I should just let it all out here. I hate complaining or being negative, but at the same time it’s good to have a place where you can be honest and open and just release things. People don’t seem to be interested in my recent posts, and that’s okay, but I do prefer to post things that people are interested in. I don’t care about popularity, but I do like posting things of some worth.


I feel like I need to get my head on straight….

Life is so crazy right now.