The Landlord

I could turn this post into a lurid erotica tale but I think I will just tell the truth.  Last night I was suffering from horrible Paxil withdrawals.  I was shaking and sweating and in a very dissociative state of mind.  However, I had to look at a house last night.  I am met by this really huge black guy who seems kind of strange but kind of attractive.  Well, after looking that house, that I desperately need, I stood there talking to him and yes, I noticed him sweeping my body up and done with his eyes, but did I expect what was to happen next?  He says, "why havent you been paying rent the last two months?"  I say, "My landlord asked me to leave a couple of months ago and he knows I need to save money.  He is a very good man and I know it for letting me stay and not making me pay."  He says, "I don't beleive that.  Are you doing anything else for him?"  I was a little shocked but tell him no.  Then he says, "do you want to do anything extra to get this house?"  I say, "Like what."  And he raises his eybrows and says nothing for a few minutes.  And yes, that's right, he wants IT.  He wants me to give him a blow job to get the house.  He goes and closes the door, locks it, shuts the blinds and he's sweating like a black pig.  I feel torn because I am DESPERATE for a house and it was a nice house but would i do that for a house?  Like a whore?  Maybe. 

Did I do it?  Yes and no.  Mostly no.  But it was strange and scary and why did he instantly think of me like that?  I was shaking like a leaf and and sweating and feeling removed.  I have more to write but must get this posted. 

To Amy:

From: Amy

You know this through and through
Inside and out.
He never feels compelled to look at you
or touch you. 
He has lied and his words sway back and forth
like his contrived affection,
An unyeilding pendulum,
You have given your heart
and soul and he has given it back
and then asked for it again. 
He deosn't want it at all
Unless he can squeeze money
or keys
or a hamburger
from me. 
to me
from him
A loveless smile
and a tap or two of sickness.   

Adam is out of Jail again and I have hardly heard a word from him.  Given that I am coming to an astonishing realization that he is a true psychopath, maybe that's okay.  It bothers me that he isn't contacting me...but I also feel a fragile freedom. FRAGILE freedom. 

PAXIL sucks.

Today I had a borrower deceased call and I hate those.  It was a mother whose 26 year old son had died and she could hardly talk.  I had to ask her horrific questions such as...."where was the funeral home" and "what date did he die" and "what city and state" and so on and so forth.  It is excrutiating.  I could hardly contain my quavering voice and the tears.  I hate those calls.  The mother sounded as much as dead herself.  I cannot imagine the grief.  I don't want to. 

I also haven't been taking my wonderful, wonderous, ever-helpful PAXIL which always tends to make me bleary eyed and over-emotional. 

PAXIL WITHDRAWALS:

Crying
Shaking
Quivering guts
Vivid dreams (with excellent story lines)
Rapid, disconcerting thoughts
Nervousness and severe anxiety...wait...that's normal
Inability to control emotions that are already overwraught and dramatic (see above)
Fatigue.  Terrible, terrible fatigue

In short, I need to go home and take that godforsaken remedy for OCD and panic that I have suffered from my entire life.  I thought about possibly telling those stories because it might help people.  The way I suffered from OCD when I was young.  It was devastating.  It was unlike anything anyone could imagine without actually suffering through it. 

Back To Jail

He has to check in today.  He says he will probably be released tonight.  But...damn if my heart doesn't just sink.  Like a ton of sappy bricks.  I know.  sickening.  Why do I love this man so much? 

Weekend Thoughts

I didn't sleep one wink last night and here I am at work....feeling as though I sound strange and slurred.  I have to think about things a little too hard.  I didn't sleep because the pressure of all of this is a little overwhelming.  My car...still dead.  Adam went and worked on it yesterday for hours and I sat in the hot sun watching cars go by and thinking about how crappy his dad's car looked beside my own crappy car and how Adam's dad can't really walk or stand actually and yet he was working so hard to fix my mostly unfixable car.  And Adam, I found the door of my back seat basically removed and then a screwdriver...where he had tried breaking into my car when his drugs were still in there. So, I was feeling angry the whole time and thinking about what an idiot I am (I seriously am).  But I need that car.  And I need a place to live. 

So, last night (here comes the idiot part) Adam was sleeping over....not with me though...because we weren't exactly on speaking terms and we are both up the whole night.  Finally about 4 am I go into the front room where he has been sleeping with his shirt off (sorry but I love those broad beautiful shoulders) and we have it out.  All of it.  His being with the ubiquitous Alexis the whole time we were together and he says it's all my fault because of all my men (I do have a lot).  But the problem is that....he has nothing anymore.  NOTHING.  No television, no internet, no...well, nothing.  His grandmother moved out of the house and took everything with her.  I feel sorry for him and his father.  His dad has nothing and nobody.  I see this look Adam gets in his eyes and it's just pain.  He is in so much pain.  It hurts me so much to see it even though he has caused so much to so many. 

I am tired. 

Me and Max.