Coping with a bad bed partner.

This is really awkward. I want you to leave but I don’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick.

I pulled the above quote from the movie Bridesmaids. I have found myself thinking that exact same thing more than a time or two. It’s not really what you think though. Well, sometimes it is. Sometimes I just don’t want the pressure of having to wake up next to someone. Morning breath. Messy hair. Possible drooling, snoring, talking in my sleep. Other times I just don’t want someone there. I enjoy my solitude. But it mostly has to do with my RLS. I don’t sleep. I’ll lie down and “sleep” for literally a minute or two. I’ll get up and walk around. I’ll go to the fridge and get a drink or a snack. I’ll go back and lay down for a few minutes. I may or may not fall asleep for a couple of minutes. Get up again. Take a bath. Fall asleep in the bath. Get out of bath. Put on bedtime attire. Lay down. Fall asleep for a few. Wake up. Turn on TV. Fall asleep. Wake up three minutes later. TV still on. Turn off TV. Play with iPod or Blackberry. Fall asleep. Said Blackberry or iPod falls out of hand and the thump as it hits the floor wake me up. Start to drift off immediately, roll over, brush into the Blackberry charger plugged into the wall next to bed. Startled, thinking it is a something (scorpion) in my bed, throw myself up, wide-eyed. Only the Blackberry charger. Totally freaked out, get out of bed, take a walk. Walk to the mailbox to get mail. About a 4 minute walk round trip. Put mail on kitchen table. Go back to bed, put on TV. Start to drift. Karate kick in my sleep. Wake up. Drift off immediately. Wake up to some terrible racket. Walking into sliding door vertical blinds.  Sleep walking. Again. Go lay down. Drift off for about ten seconds. Too hot in here. Take pillow and blanket to couch. Ahhhhhhh, AC blowing right on me. Drift off. Roll over and fall on the floor. This is not working. Get up, walk to fridge, get drink. Walk around kicking anxiety out of my legs. Please legs. Behave. Lay back down on couch. Start to drift. Move legs, wake up. Take pillow and blanket back to bed. Pull out book. Read a paragraph or two, start to drift. Book falls out of hand, hits floor, thump – – WAKE up. WTF. Look at clock. O.M.G. Not even 2am. This is going to be a long ass night. Typical hour during the night for me. Multiply that by 7 or 8 hours and you have my typical night. With the exception of the bath and retrieving the mail – – I only do those once a night. Replace those two activities with a walk to the thermostat and another trip to the fridge. How do I share a bed with someone when I can barely share a bed with myself? Someone once told me that I kicked him about 100 times in the course of an hour and my legs looked like a frog swimming in water. Awkward! I don’t think I’ll ever get married no less share a bed with a man. That’s not me being a pessimist. This is me. This is my life every night of every day of my life. I don’t wish that upon my worst enemy (if I had enemies).

Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I don’t get close to people. Maybe I don’t want to have to explain why I won’t spend the night.

If you share a bed with someone who snores, talks in his/her sleep, is restless  – – know that they can’t control what they do in their sleep and it may stress them more than it stresses you. Sometimes there are solutions (medical, psychological, separate beds, et cetera) and sometimes you just deal.



When someone says they’ll keep you or someone close to you in their prayers you would expect them to do just that, right? We just found out that my Uncle George has Stage 4 liver cancer and someone in my immediate family commented on my cousin’s facebook that they will keep them in their prayers. Okay fine. The only problem is that this person doesn’t believe in God and hasn’t said a prayer a day in their lives. Am I the only one that takes issue with this? Maybe. I never say I’ll keep someone in my prayers because I don’t pray but I will say that I will keep them in my thoughts. That doesn’t make me better. Just different. I say what I mean and I mean what I say.

I’ll admit  – – I do like the Serenity prayer though.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage
to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

On this day in July…

July 19, 2009 my life changed forever. My dad was rushed to the hospital. He hadn’t been himself all day. He had been having horrendous hallucinations and he barely had enough oxygen in him to walk to the bathroom without being breathless. The following day he was “normal” and we had hoped the day before was something to be chalked up as my dad being sick. Little did we know it would become our norm. On July 18, 2009 I had dinner with my father and he was fine. We were laughing and joking around as always. I had just got to their house from South Jersey as my nephew, Carter, had been born a few days prior. The very next day the dad that I had known had slipped away forever. I have since had glimpses of days past but they are short-lived. His memory was gone. He was having hallucinations. He was aggressive and moody. He was weak. He lost his independence practically overnight. At first we allowed him to take short trips to the market, the bank, post office, to get pizza but that didn’t last. We had to hide the keys and eventually hide the car. He couldn’t make coffee anymore as he would inadvertently start fires in the kitchen. He was still smoking at that point but the cigarettes and matches had to be hid as well because he would light everything on fire except the cigarette. He has since quit – – mostly because he forgot to smoke and the need, the addiction, eventually faded. He still asks for one every now and again. I laugh at him and say, “You quit smoking a long time ago. What, did you forget?” His funny stories, laughter, smile – – gone. He couldn’t help around the house. I remember the night he came home from that first hospital stay. He stayed up hours polishing the dining room table and chairs. For a short while the medicine helped. If I had known then what I know now I would have done things differently. He was misdiagnosed (and treated) for 18 months with Alzheimer’s & Parkinson’s disease. On February 19, 2011 we found out my dad had something called NPH (normal pressure hydrocephalus), which is possibly treatable with brain surgery. The doctors wanted to do some tests on my dad to see if he would benefit from surgery. The results were staggering. We were thrilled that he could quite possibly be “cured” and looking forward to returning to some sense of normalcy. One problem though. My dad refused the surgery. Even though my dad doesn’t have Alzheimer’s & Parkinson’s he has all of the symptoms only elevated – – more severe and escalating a lot quicker than if he had really had either of those conditions. I really wish I had the words to make a difference in his decision. He won’t pursue it out of fear. Fear of losing his life in surgery. But I ask myself – – is it really living if you have already lost your independence? He can’t even walk anymore. He can barely take a step. On this father’s day 2011 my father is still present on this earth and I should be thankful for that but I miss the man he once was.

Need You Now

Lady Antebellum’s Need You Now is about addiction. Addiction to fellow-man (or woman). This song was basically my theme song for Spring/Summer of 2010. My iPod was on repeat and thanks to my mP3 hook-up in my car I must have listened to this song hundreds of times. Not only did I love the song but it was so relevant to my life. The past 5 years of my romantic life have embodied one person – – Edwin. Friend with benefits turned more. Not more on his part but on mine. It wasn’t his fault I fell for him. He was honest with me (at first). Maybe that’s what I found intoxicating? I didn’t care that he was with someone else. After several months it got too intense and I put distance between us. After 18 months apart he told me he had feelings for me – – that he loved me when we reunited. I believed him and got all wrapped up in him again. It didn’t take long for me to realize he was lying through his teeth to me about anything and everything. I didn’t care. I liked our closeness. I liked, hell I loved, that I could have what I wanted out of him without commitment. Commitment scared me. He scared me. I could never trust him to make anything real work anyway. But the physical intimacy was intense. I needed that. I was going through a hard time in life and he was the distraction I needed. He became an addiction. My addiction. My heart became cold and indifferent to him but I craved the closeness. The summer of 2010 (from late May till early October) I spent almost every night with him. When you strip away all of the sex what did we have? Certainly not a relationship of any means but we did have a friendship. We spoke at length about his girlfriend. Yes, he had a girlfriend and no, I didn’t care. We spoke at length about the custody battle with his ex over his 2yo son. We spoke about his son, my sick father, friends, work, et cetera. We were legitimate friends. Somewhere along the way something had to give and it’s always me. I always decide at one point or another to stop seeing him and I did. Once I made that decision I stuck with it. It has been about 8 months now. I’m well into my recovery. When I first moved to Florida he wanted to see me. I wasn’t interested. I still get moments of weakness. Then one afternoon I got a phone call him asking me to lie for him. I won’t lie for him. I won’t lie for anyone. We haven’t spoken since.

I’m seeing someone else but when I hear that song I return to the Summer of 2010 and relive every moment – – good and bad. My friends told me I shouldn’t make sacrifices for good sex. I didn’t see it as a sacrifice and it was better than good sex. It was amazing. I didn’t want a relationship with him. I just wanted him to be on the other side of my bed when I needed him. No more; no less.