The Padded Cell Redux

When someone dies before you can say all that they needed to hear from you, it makes you wish you were dead, too. And in March of 2015, I felt like I would never feel spring sunshine on my face ever again. I didn't want t o . Just as I'd been given the opportunity to at least try  to start making amends for the horrible things I'd said and done the year before, the only person with whom I'd ever felt truly myself was snatched away. It wasn't sudden, really, but it felt that way to me. And I was left utterly alone, holding a giant bag of shame and guilt and regrets.  People felt compelled to tell me, "He loved you, Mo, and he knew you loved him." That made it worse. Worse because I already knew  he loved me. I never doubted for one second that he loved me, that he was in love with me.  He never gave me a reason to doubt that, but I know I gave him plenty. In the year prior to his death, I was genuinely evil. Not because I didn't love him, but becaus...

In practice, and I say this from experience, group therapy sucks ass. I don't even think group therapy sounds good in theory.  Which genius came up with the idea of a bunch of neurotics sitting in a circle giving each other advice? I don't know about you, but if I'm at the point in my life where I think I need therapy to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, I don't want a design for living concocted by someone who is just as big a train wreck as I. Certainly, I'm  not the person you want to ask for advice about anything other than whether or not you should wear that skirt with those shoes (the answer to that question, by the way, is no). Yes, I understand that it's supposed to help by showing me that there are others going through the same things. It's supposed to make me feel less alone in the world. But I already know  I'm not alone with my problems. Everybody has problems, to a greater or lesser degree, so it stands to reason that a...

Once upon a time, I started a Plenty of Fish account. Also an OkCupid account. And a FetLife account (but we're not going there right now). I didn't bother with Match.com or any of the other paid sites - including Christian Mingle and Dates for Really Stupid People Because Really Stupid People Need Love Too - because I felt like I shouldn't have to pay to find love. ( Har har . You ALWAYS have to pay to find love. One way or another, bitch, you're paying.)  As it turns out, that was a wise choice; I've talked to a few people that did pay for accounts on those sites (I'm not sure I have the name of the second one exactly right but it's close) and it would seem that their experiences don't differ that much from mine. Except they paid for the experience with money. I paid for it with hours of my life that I will never get back. Anyway, it had been about a year since I'd even thought about dating, so I decided to listen to my friends and st...