Scared Bunny

I guess if you paid any attention to this blog you noticed that I like to write. Sometimes it's all that keeps me sane. Sometimes it is the only outlet I have. And sometimes the blog is like the only person I have to talk to.

And like most people who like to write think they have a novel in them. I have been kicking around ideas for years. Nobody seems to get my main idea besides me, which is OK. I don't mind that. I just want to get it out of my system.

But people who know me tell me that that novel is not what I should write. What they want to read is my life story. Hell, read early comments to the blog. People though the original stories were just a novel being tried out. People especially want the story from my first divorce forward. They probably want the whole shooting match, but I am not going to write about my marriage. I feel like that would be wrong.

And, as I have said, I won't write about my second marriage either.

That leaves a lot of very interesting stories, but no ending. There is no happy ending, and there is no tragic ending. All I have are the stories. Some people like the stories. Some people find them offensive. Some people think I am talking about them. And some of those people are right. But that just doesn't sound like a book to me. Then again, "The Secret" was a bestseller and basically all it says is to have a positive attitude and focus on your goals. It's a short book but, shit, I could say that in a greeting card.

So I have considered writing something that just doesn't include my marriages. The problem is that it would leave such a hole. When you read the stories I used to always write you have no sense for why I did what I did and how I got that way. I could fix that but it would mean including my childhood (making me look like a victim) and my first marriage (where I was an asshole and I am not willing to exploit that relationship). And I just know that whatever comes next for me, leaving out my second marriage would leave the story so obviously incomplete that any reader would wonder what happened.

The thing is, I am beginning to think I need to write and write it all. The whole mess. I feel like it has to all be compiled in one place to get it out and get over it. I am haunted by my past and I don't think anyone understands because nobody knows the whole thing. Even in therapy you can't tell the whole story. It is too long and complicated. 40 minutes at a time, including the bullshit from the therapist, would make it take years. And I realize now that I don't have years. To have this all bottled up is asking for trouble. While I am strangely calm right now, I know that is not a permanent condition for me. It is simply a pause in a storm. If I truly want to stop living from emotional storm to emotional storm, I need get the eye of the storm out of my soul.

So I am faced with a great decision and a monumental task. And I have to get this right because I know my soul is on the line.

Labels: book, emotions, insanity, life, relationships, writing

Sometimes I wonder who I am writing for. I have mentioned in the past that it seemed my writing belonged to others. Now I am taking it back. I don’t do this out of anger, but because I need to return my writing to the healthy outlet it used to be. It is like reclaiming a part of my life, or almost like reclaiming part of my body. If you lost an arm, and had to choose whether or not to attach it, you would choose to have the arm. That is what I am choosing. The very first entry was titled “Sometimes you have to tell someone” because what was going on in my life was beyond belief and I needed to vent. Now I once again need something that is mine but that is shared with the world, regardless how small the audience may be.

I fell in to a pattern of depression and I am fighting my way out of it. I would eat when I needed comforting, and my metabolism isn’t exactly designed for that. Now I have a large goal of weight loss I am working on. I go to a gym almost every day just for cardio because I need that built up just to be able to do the other exercises. This has taken a toll on my already fragile ego. I used to know that I was at least semi-good looking. Now I am fat. It’s what I see in the mirror when I get ready to shower. I even had to buy some fat pants.

Consider how this comes at a time when I am single. I used to use personal ads and besides the crazy women I also found a bunch of women who had serious misperception of what an average build is. Now, I know I do not have an average build, but if I tried to date them now we’d be a match. I am superficial, and I admit that. Tricia was and is very attractive, so I was drawn to her. I can’t get the level of woman I desire right now so I wouldn’t try even if I wanted to.

I’m not even happy getting down to the weight I was though. I am mostly looking at what size I want to be. I want a 32 inch waist (If I can without looking bony). I want the smallest waist I can have and be healthy. I am dedicated to diet and exercise like never before. I want to look at myself and be proud of how I look, and I have never felt that way before. I also want to set a good example for my son so he doesn’t follow my bad example.

This, of course, means lots of things like Special K, Slimfast, V-8 and Gatorade (during exercising). I don’t mind the Special K, and the rest are not bad, I guess, but I am a big country cooking kind of guy, so it’s rough right now. It’s not easy to avoid the all you can eat buffets and high fat Chinese food. I know, though, that not avoiding them would be a huge mistake because it’s easier to stay on that balance beam than try to jump off it and land right back in place. If it weren’t gymnasts wouldn’t all be skinny little pixies. They don’t eat a 20 oz. Rib Eye with fries or a baked potato. I could do that every day.

I wish I could get my heart rate up when I’m at work. Imagine if typing kept it at 146 (a good aerobic level). I’d be down to a 32 inch waist in 2 months.

I guess I need to set a realistic goal. If I can lose 3 pounds a week I can be down to the weight I was when we split by New Years, and my target around February. Those are realistic goals if I just stick to it. Thanksgiving may be tough because I have my son, but he hates turkey, so if we don’t have family he and I can do chicken and nothing else special.

God… this just became a Dating, Relationships, Humor, Bipolar, Parenting, Weight loss blog. Now all I need is to learn to knit and to move to Asia and lie about my age.

Labels: fat, life, weight loss, writing

I'm scared to write.

I don't mean that in the way I have said certain stories aren't told because I am scared that the person or persons involved will unleash on me making me miserable and making this blog unreadable. The stories from my marriage aren't going to be told period, so why be scared. I don't write those stories because I don't want to. They are ours and ours alone.

But for some reason I have a problem when I even think about writing. I get scared and anxious. I hate that feeling. I have all these triggers, but to have writing, one thing I love and one thing I am good at, be one of them is making me miserable. I loved when hundreds of people read what I wrote every day. I even admit that I loved that some people would stay up and keep checking the page to see if I had written for the day yet.

I know that part of the problem is that when I write I think of her. When Scared Bunny stopped being a nightly read it was mostly because what I wanted to do was write for her. I know it seems strange, but it still seems my writing belongs to her, and I can't use it without her blessing. I don't mean her blessing telling stories. I mean her blessing to write at all. That's why I wrote those paid posts. I felt a little guilty writing them, but not near as guilty as I felt writing anything of substance.

A big part of me is trying to keep my whole life superficial right now. If I keep it shallow and I fall, the fall won't be too far. And I can't handle another fall.

Labels: fear, life, relationships, writing

As you know, I post ads in my blogs. Yeah, I want some money from my writing because I'm scared to death to write the book everyone wants me to write.

So you would think that the ads would diminish the drama I used to get from telling true life stories. Guess again.

I had a complaint about the diamonds ad because I said I didn't have anyone to but them for. Well, Jeez, right now I don't. And after that I have even less likelihood of wanting to but one for someone.

No matter what I write I get drama. Ever wonder why I sometimes have trouble writing at all? I don't need even more reasons to be medicated. And these are people who know what I am going through. It's not even the random readers who think they know me!

Labels: anxiety, drama, medication, writing

People have been wondering why I am posting commercial stuff and not personal stuff. The reason is the commercial things kind of keep me occupied and I need to say something, even if it’s just for money. But the personal stuff, I just don’t feel comfortable writing about.

I don’t want to write anything that seems to be excusing myself, or pointing blame. But if I do write everything that is how some people will take it. On the other hand, if I just write about how bad I was and the things I did I am not being true to what happened or to myself. It doesn’t help anything to beat myself up or place blame.

I am not going to try to use what happened in my marriage for entertainment. This is not like writing about some woman who I dated a couple of times who ended up being a freak. This is also not like a woman who hit me, stole from me and tried to get me arrested and then turned around and asked me to testify that she was a fit parent. What happened is far too personal for even this site.

I have always been brutally honest when I wrote here. Sometimes I said more than I probably should have. But in a couple of cases I have said nothing because what happened is too important and real for that kind of treatment. I just don’t have it in me to write a Lifetime Movie Network version of events with a clear villain and a hero. That’s not what this was like or what it’s all about.

I also have been real hesitant to write about what is going on in my life because it would center on therapy and my personal crap, and I do not want that to be confused as me making excuses for anything. The reality is I wake up every morning scared for no reason and after the morning medicines kick in I relax enough to barely make it through the day. Then I go home, which I dread doing, and as the meds wear off I get more and more stressed until I finally go to bed to escape it.

I am in a holding pattern while I wait to start with a new, much better, doctor who will hopefully manage my meds instead of leaving me out on my own to try to find a way to make them work well enough that I don’t go off the deep end. I also am in slower therapy because the 90 minute sessions she needs are harder to schedule and sometimes I have to miss a week.

I am waiting for my hard efforts at work during a brief period of motivation to pay off, which will alleviate a lot of financial stress.

In short, I am waiting to feel like something less than a ticking time bomb.

So until I get the nerve to write about why I am changing doctors, I guess this will have to do.

Unless you want to hire me to write something.

Labels: ads, anxiety, life, medication, personality+tests, relationships, writing