Just Not Good Enough: A month of drunks, insensitive insurance agents, muscle relaxers and a painful breakup (there isn't a Calgon bottle big enough)

Well, it's been like forever since I've posted anything here. But it's not entirely my fault. My workplace started blocking Blogger and then all the proxies I used to get thru were cutting off the homepage, making it difficult to reset my password.

But today I finally had a breakthrough. So I'm back. I hope.

A whole lot of crap has happened to me in the last month and a half. The theme lately is one of powerlessness. I feel as though the Universe has it in for me and I'm not entirely sure why. And it feels as if I'm just not good enough to deserve better.

The day before Christmas, a drunk driver totaled my parked car, leaving me having to utilize the grand bus system of Springfield. Of course, that alcoholic a**hole is already back out on the streets in a new car. The police have been unable to pin the accident on him as he is lying thru his tooth about the incident. Witnesses place him and only him at the scene. He was described as drunk and he knew what he'd done as he tried to drive his car down the block towards his house (so yes, it's considered a hit and run) but the impact was so severe that both vehicles were totaled. Witnesses saw him and he attempted to conceal his identity.
When police arrived, he left the scene (after coming back down the block pretending to have been awoken by the commotion) and he wouldn't answer the door when they attempted to make contact with him. This bozo's brilliant story is that he went out at 3:30 in the morning and started up his car to let it warm up. It was then stolen and that's when he claims the accident happened. However, the vehicle was faced towards his house, headed in that direction (perhaps the thieves had a change of heart and were returning the car, moments after they had stolen it??), and had it truly been stolen, he would have (as normal people do) reported the stolen vehicle when the police were there that morning. As of today's post, he has not reported that vehicle stolen and the cops cannot get him to do so. He knows he would be committing a felony by lying so he has chosen to remain the snake that he is. He has prior DUI's and I believe that this would have been #3- also a felony in our state (I think). So he knows what he has done and he knows that he is lying out his ass.

I feel sorry for the residents of that particular neighborhood where the accident occurred. They should be warned of the drunk that lives in their midst so they can keep pets and children on short leashes. There is a park behind all of the duplexes and many children wander the block all the time. I fear that his next accident will not involve only a parked car with no one inside. Next time, someone could lose their life. And I feel powerless because there isn't much I can do to prevent it. I am watching out for him, as best as I can. The officer assigned to the case has advised me to call in whenever I see him out so that he can be picked up and his car can be impounded. He is driving with a suspended license and no insurance (ever wonder why all of our rates keep going up?).

To make matters worse, my insurance company made things difficult for me (but then again, how often do you hear about an easy insurance settlement?). I won't name names, however, the insurance company's name starts with A and rhymes with American. Oops, did I just give that away? Whatever. My insurance agent decided that my crisis was not worth her time and today marks DAY 46 since the accident that she still has not returned my call. When I started calling her office the end of December, I left message after message, stopped in several times and spoke numerous times with her secretary. The secretary could see how distressed I was. I know that my agent was not really involved with the adjustment and loss portion of my accident, however I had been with this woman for 3 years (with American Family for over 7 years) and all I wanted was some reassurance from her that this matter would be dealt with swiftly and with compassion. I was wrong on both accounts.
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Next up, I've been having horrible stomachaches and abdominal pain this month. My trouble with swallowing has escalated. From October 13 to January 23, I lost 18 pounds. I'm not trying to lose weight and I don't exercise. I'm just not getting enough food in me. I finally went to the doctor two weeks ago. She put me through a few tests and so far, her diagnosis straight up sucks. I told her of all my symptoms (stomachaches, pain in all four abdominal quadrants, pain in my shoulder after eating, vomiting, nausea, occasional heartburn, bad taste in the back of my throat, heart palpitations, in addition to being unable to swallow, and a few other things that I'd rather not mention), and her initial thought is to treat me for heartburn or GURD (acid reflux). She also seems to think that the swallowing problem is not physical. It's anxiety manifesting itself in my mouth and esophagus that prevents me from eating. This is where I find the nearest brick wall and pound my head against it.

Forget for a moment, all of the symptoms that do not correspond to acid reflux, the fact that sludge (yes, that is a medical term) was found in my gallbladder during an ultrasound which alarmed the technicians, and focus on the fact that I've just been called crazy (as far as I'm concerned). It really pisses me off to be told that there isn't anything physically wrong with me. It pisses me off to describe my symptoms, which are very real and very annoying (do you know what I'd give for a hamburger that I could eat completely? I'd not only sell my own soul, I'd start selling the souls of my coworkers and friends too!), and to be told that perhaps it's just a stiff neck that is causing my anxiety. I was, and I wish I was kidding here, prescribed a muscle relaxer for when I'm eating.

:O

What do you say to someone who spent years in medical school, studying everything medicine related who thinks that it's all just a problem in your head? At least she can't say that it's because I'm fat. I now weigh 183. That's 92 pounds that I've lost in not quite 3 years. I'm not even in the obese category for BMI and standard weight calculations anymore. For the first time ever, I weigh less than my driver's license says I do. They can't blame my health on my weight. So I guess the next simplest explanation is that it's mental. Grrrrr.
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The other incredibly negative thing to happen lately is my breakup.

I was dumped.

Hard.

And it hurt. For the second time in my life, it hurt really, really badly.


It boils down, according to him, to the simple fact that he has no feelings for me. There "is no spark" and I should "find someone who accepts me for me." Uh, okay.....

Based on that little nutshell, it sounds rather simple, no? I mean, you can't be mad at someone who just has no feelings for you. It's like getting mad at someone because they were born with blue eyes. They can't help it, it's just the way it is.

At least, that's what he tried to convince me of.

Here's where the problem arises: He spent no less than 7 weeks coming to this decision. We dated for 7 weeks beyond the time that he first started to feel... nothing!.... and he didn't have the balls to tell me any sooner than that. This pisses me off. And I have every right to be angry because there were multiple opportunities for him to confront me. In fact, I remember trying a couple times myself to initiate a conversation about the distance growing between us. I wrote a very personal email. I joked about it. I cried. I'm 100% sure that the guy isn't dense. I wouldn't have been attracted to him in the first place if that had been the case. So my only conclusion is that he chose to hide all that time like a coward continuing to let me sit in confusion, having sex with me, and making me scramble to try and figure out what was wrong and what I could do to fix it.

"You're smart, funny, attractive... I'm attracted to you, we have a lot in common and we get along great... it's just not good enough."

Just.Not.Good.Enough.

= one hard slap across the face

Which left me wondering for some time how I could have avoided failing so miserably at having a passionate and meaningful relationship with this man. What did I do wrong?!?! Was it the fact that I don't look my best first thing in the morning? Or that I like to spit my gum out further than the last time I did so? Were my jokes not funny enough? My political views not in closer alignment to his own? WHAT?!?!

A couple days later, he admitted to me when these doubts started to creep into his mind. It happened during an episode one weekend where I was afraid to confront him on something embarrassing for both of us that I'd discovered. I didn't want to talk to him about it but I was so deathly afraid of losing another relationship to this particular problem. Once this issue was brought out into the open, I'd thought that we'd dealt with it and that all was forgiven. I forgave him for lying to me. But he didn't forgive me for being "hysterical".

Oh honey, you haven't even begun to see hysterical.

It turns out that he doesn't like my emotions. Goodness, I'm emotional and I have feelings. Whooda thunk it? My god, I'm not a robot! I am a real woman in the flesh. And oh boy, that's gotta be pretty darn scary to deal with! Things upset me. Things make me cry and laugh and scream and vomit. I am complicated. What about high-maintenance? Isn't that the other code word for emotional/crazy/too much of a woman? I don't demand that someone change for me. I don't demand that someone spend every waking minute with me, catering to my every need. I like my knitting and my photography and I don't need the other person I date to validate me because those things fill in fine. I do, however, like to discuss things and verbalize what I'm thinking and especially what I'm feeling. My feelings are important to me. They change constantly and damn it, they are complex! "Hysterical" to me, translates to someone who has no control over their emotions, someone who is in a constant state of crisis. Me? I wouldn't say I'm always in control (PMS, anyone?) of my emotions, but I do not spend my entire life in crisis- take care of me because I'm a helplessly disturbed female and make me all better because you are the man-mode. But I am prone to excitability, poignant films make me tear up, and bad stuff puts me in a temporarily sour mood. The alternative would be someone who bottles everything up and doesn't discuss what they are feeling to any degree at all. They'd rather go punch things and drive like a complete maniac on the road than admit that something is bothering them. Perhaps because I am viewing this through my female lens, I see the obviously easier approach of dealing directly with personal emotions as more acceptable.

But some men don't see it that way.

And unfortunately I had to fall for one of them.

Obviously you can tell that I don't believe his explanation as to what happened. If it were true- that robotboy just never found that spark for me- then what the hell was the first month all about? A forgettable accident? He tells me that he has no feelings for me, yet he stared at me all summer long. He went out of his way to make conversation with me. He wrote just as many emails to me as I did to him before and when we first started going out. I didn't have 3 hour phone conversations with myself. I didn't initiate any conversations involving future plans, child rearing and baby names. I wasn't looking for anything except a fun date. I needed that after the year I had had with whatshisface.

I didn't mean to fall in love. It just happened.

And I'm pissed off that my involuntary reaction was wasted on someone like him. I'm pissed to have wasted my time, energy, and love on someone who found it so easy to dump me because of one negative aspect of my personality somehow overshadowed the overwhelming heap of positive things I bring to the table. The guy was far from perfect, yet I accepted every flaw that I saw and every flaw that I didn't. It was easy. I guess too easy. Nothing worth fighting for ever comes easy, right?