One of a few situations that make me/prove that I am totally fucked up (and afraid to date)

HIM May 23, 2009 at 5:07pm
It says you are single,it doesn't say your the sexist thing since hot pink underpants

Me May 24, 2009 at 2:08am
It just says I am single so I can pick up guys on facebook more easily

Him May 24, 2009 at 11:10am Report
So you are cheating on me;), well I'm back in az. How was the party? Fun I hope. I'd like to know more about you now that I'm far enough away that my physical attraction to you well not take over. I'll start off with what are u doing this summer?

Me May 24, 2009 at 2:34pm
Ok buddy. You are perfectly welcome to shower me with attention and praise and all, but I really dont want this to go anywhere, so if we "get to know eachother" let it be with that understanding that its just as friends. I don't like hurting peoples feelings, and I have been led on in the past, so I don't want to be the person who does that.

Hope your flight was nice

Him May 25, 2009 at 4:15am
Wow, harsh words, I really just wanted to know what you were up to this summer but I can see how it might of sounded like I wanted to make plans. I was just trying to break the ice.

Him May 25, 2009 at 4:19am
Ps, was the sex that bad?

Me May 25, 2009 at 9:35am
Not harsh at all, maybe you know your intentions, but you came on really strong, so I could only use the information you gave me.

Him June 14, 2009 at 3:00am
How the fuck did it come to this? .

Him June 14, 2009 at 3:09am
Okay, it is mostly my fault, but still, I can't be that uninteresting. .

Me June 14, 2009 at 5:46pm
Hi there.

I don't know if you are interesting or not. I really didn't get to know anything about you, at all really. Chock it up to drinking, I think. We both drank too much. You were pushy and not paying attention to my non-verbal (and verbal) cues that I wasn't interested. I was a drunk wuss, if you wouldn't take the subtle hints I should have spoken up louder. All I know is I just went with it because it was easier than hurting your feelings/putting a damper on the night.

This time I know I am being harsh, but I mean it in a constructive way. If you had pulled back when I sent cues I wasnt into it (read:turning away when you try to kiss me, and when you did, saying "I dont feel any magic") maybe we could have had a conversation and maybe I would have found you interesting, and became interested. Instead I felt annoyed, and in the light of day, I realize, cheated, you called me "pretty" about a million times, and said nothing else, really. It felt like the only effort you could put into it was saying you were interested, not really giving me any reason, or even caring, for me to be interested.

Hey, we all act like idiots when we are drunk, I am sure you are different sober. I am giving you this info so you can use that night as a lesson to help with the next girl. Definately drink less, and follow the cues the girl sends you, if she pushes away, back up and wait until she shows interest, then slowly try to build it. I have learned to drink less and speak louder about how I feel.

Sorry about being harsh for real this time, but I believe in treating people the way I want to be treated, and so I think honesty is nicer and more useful than calling you a dick and letting you use the same technique on the next person.

Him
Never wrote back

[Extra information: When other people in the group were leaving, I told my friend I was ready for him to leave too. I needed her support. He wasn't getting the message. She said "He's nice" I felt so alone. I felt like no one was listening. And no one was. I joke in private with my friend that I am a slut, in her eyes I have no standards. She must have expressed it to him somehow I was a "sure thing" which I almost am. If I feel turned on, why not? But I wasn't turned on. I could have been interested, had he behaved remotely interesting, but he wasn't, he just kept trying to kiss me. So finally I let him come home with me and let him have sex with me. I basically raped myself. I pushed myself to have sex that I didn't want to have. I just got so tired of protesting. No one was listening. No one cared that I wasn't interested.]

Facebook status from Toronto Jackass who wouldn't spend $10 on a pail of Kung Pao chicken for me

"It's like the second day of snow in Toronto and I woke up to find out my Mercedes truck was smashed into by some lady who slid thru an intersection. What a start to the holiday season."

MERCEDES? WHAT THA F????????

All in all, it just makes me look more foolish. For letting it get this far, but I am grateful for all of the reinforcements he and the universe give me that no 9 inch penis is worth feeling so shabby. I saw a excerpt from "Celebrity Rehab" with Brandon Davis or what ever his name is, and something about his personality reminded me of Toronto Jackass. Seeing the personality on someone who is not attractive and promising me easy, good sex really helps me see more clearly.

I feel absolutely no temptation to get back in touch, which in the past was my problem. I would get irate at him, then forget about him, and then invite him over when I am in Toronto or to chat with him online. Now I don't feel irate, I dont care enough to be irate. I feel like he is trash and I am foolish to play the "rescue the wounded puppy" game when I know better.

Toronto Jackass is an addiction that I need to rehab

I needed to end the "Give him a chance dating" Stage one is to interact or go on a date and not like a guy. 2) Lie to myself and say I like him, mostly because it means I will probably get sex soon. 3) Put up with the whole situation for a month or so, until I can't take it anymore, hurting the guy and feeling angry and violated by myself for pushing myself to be with someone I don't want. 4) Feel repelled to all men, and if I don't meet someone I like until I get horny/lonely again, return to stage one.

Toronto Jackass was going to be my antidote to this awful pattern. I couldn't get rid of him, I might stay strong for a few months, but once he contacted me, or I saw him log on the messenger, I would be friendly again. The times I deleted him from Facebook, Myspace, and IM, he would get back in touch with me, and I would cave in. In the end, the Id wants what the Id wants. Besides being hung, and hard easily and consistently. The sex isnt always mind blowing, but it is never bad.

I can't even remember all of the manifestations we have been in. At first it was amazing discussion of creativity online, I really admired his music, and our conversation motivated and inspired the creativity in me. But he kept hanging up abruptly, and other strange, thoughtless things. At some point I deleted him, at another point I decided it would be only sex. And it was.

It's a blur, but he started confusing me. He said things that suggested he thought about me. He occasionally said he "liked me" I tried to get my head around it, and after a WONDERFUL conversation one evening and especially after seeing him again, and LETTING MYSELF FEEL it, I felt something, he could be my boyfriend, I didn't have to will myself into it like with the "give him a chance" relationships, I was IN. The next day I texted him a guaranteed conversation starter, that I had just cut down twelve trees, and his response to me was "OK."

After that day I knew I couldn't try again. I let myself be vulnerable, I let myself be excited, and I couldn't muster up that sort of optimism again. I went into another "Give him a chance" relationship which I expect will be my last. I can't put myself through that again. I just end up angry at myself and sort of violated. Whenever I am in my backyard I get these awful memories of feeling angry at my "give him a chance" guy. He turned into a condescending dick! He also bought blue paint for my gray house (Perhaps covering that up will be the antidote.) I decided since I can't get rid of Toronto Jackass, I will allow him in my life (read:bedroom) to protect myself from that "give him a chance" cycle.

It was a good idea. I sexed him up good on an overnight. It wasn't as good because since it started so fast I was not as warmed up, but I got some penis & some cuddles, and felt great the next day. for a few days we shot the shit seamlessly on Skype, and then one night him and his friend were drunk, and during the three way conversation TJ called me his girlfriend, and said "I love her." I liked the things he was saying, but I know from experience to wait for follow up behavior. That night, he repeatedly said, pleaded, that I stay longer. I said would be coming in early, so we could go to a movie or dinner. It is a good thing I knew better than to take his side comments seriously, because the next day he was not online again.

The day arrived, I assumed he forgot, and after a melancholy week, didn't feel like reminding him. But he did remember, and I felt hopeful that cuddling would help my depression, and that a few moments in his company would rev my dormant libido. We arrived at the hotel at 7PM, I had to wake up at 4:30. When he wasn't at the hotel still at 8:20, I texted him to ay i was too tired to go out, and asked him to bring takeout. He responded that he had spent his last $10 running an errand for his brother, but he would go out and get something for me when he got to the hotel. I forgive him for forgetting we had dinner plans, but it seriously appeared he had been, the whole time, going out of his way to avoid spending a penny on me. I texted him saying not to come. He said he would be at the hotel in 10 minutes. I told him I was not in a friendly mood and not to come. He didn't respond. In a dick move after already being a dick, he didnt write back to say, "OK, next time" so I could sleep, knowing he wasn't going to show up anyway.

I don't know if I will let him back into my good graces. I don't have any expectations but if a guy can't even spring for some Kung Pao chicken then I feel like a booty call or a sugar mama. And I think I have figured out his relationship nudging. When I want only sex, he wants a relationship. When I want a relationship, he wants space/freedom/independance from responsibility. When I want to resolve conflict he wants to rev it up. It has nothing to do with me, or what he wants in his heart. What he wants is the upper hand. He is such a mindfucker he is inconsistent. He told me a story about his brothers throwing him off the roof, and I know they physically fight to this day. I don't know what is wrong with his head but I know he will do what he can to ensure I feel just as off balance as long as I am in his world.

It's all very disappointing, but what I really liked about him is his creativity, and I think he had a muse effect on me, which is probably why I continued to respond and let him back into my life. I can continue to have that from him, I can listen to his music and feel that inspiration and admiration without allowing him personally close.

I was able to quit the cookies we pass out on the airplane, I can quit Toronto Jackass.

"It gets better" or "Unpeeling the layers of the onion"

Wonderful things have happened this month. My trip to Europe flipped a switch in me. I ate like a European for two weeks. When I say "Eat like a European" I mean eating small portions of real and high quality food, while seated, and purchasing food fresh, every few days, not buying two weeks of high-preservative groceries at a time. And walking or using public transportation, not driving everywhere.

I have. I have given up fast food almost entirely, and now am living off of stir fries (steam in the bag veggies + sauce and usually a protein like meat or tofu) and when I eat out, I am trying to choose healthier foods, not just low fat McDonalds grilled chicken sandwiches that have chicken flavoring added to make it taste more "Chickeny."

I also *Gasp!* have cut down on coffee dramatically. The fluid that was the one thing keeping me from suicide is now showing itself as the thing that may be holding me back from many of my goals.

I still have been drinking coffee, in a 75% decaf blend, but when I am drinking it, or tea, I am using agave syrup instead of Splenda. I have read that agave syrup might not be healthy either, but I am just not willing to give up sweetners all together* (and when I tried having sugar, not artificial sweeteners, I gained weight.)

Well, the cutting down of coffee has cut down my anxiety, and I am sure the years of therapy plus the power of leaving your environment helps, but I am getting rid of all the things I have held onto for over a decade. It helps a lot to watch the show "Hoarders" while sorting. It puts in perspective that what seemed like innocent habits can become serious problems, and the fact that I don't have company over- perhaps a contributor to depression, shows it already is a problem.

It's amazing, and heartening that as I get healthier, layers of dysfunctional behaviors show themselves, and I am strong enough to address them. Don't feel overwhelmed if you read this and feel anxious from the thought of letting go of any of these things. Sometimes your depression is bad enough that your priority is getting to work and showering. Go for it (though if you can try to keep your coffee intake from escalating, I think it's a good idea)

As we are hearing so much lately--- "It gets better!"

*I like stevia in tea, but it isn't good in coffee, in my opinion.

Coffee with cream, depression, and anxiety

I am snuggled under my covers with a cup of tea, at 9:10 in the morning, happy. Sounds impossible? You might be a coffee addict, like me. When in Europe, prepared coffee was expensive, small, and needed at different times of day because of time zones. I cut down, and found my appetite went down, but more than anything, appreciated that I wasn't useless in the morning pre-coffee.

My relationship with coffee is a relationship of pure love. My mother and I used to eat coffee flavored Haagen-Dazs ice cream, and coffee Dannon yogurt, and I knew early on that the combination of sweet and bitter was intoxicating, high on the list with chocolate.

By the age of 15, I had my mom die, my stepmother leave, my dad passed out daily from alcohol, and my maternal grandmother die. I was majorly depressed, but with a handful of drive to make my life better. I discovered "General Foods International Coffee" and at 18, when I started getting suicidal ideation, I came up with the strategy that if the doctors would not give me medication, I would use coffee to counteract the psycho motor retardation from depression. I got the medication, but I have continued to use, and value, coffee as a tool to keep me going.

But now I am giving it a break. I can't (or don't want to) quit, it can be a life (and job) saver when I feel like I will fall asleep in the jump-seat. If you are addicted, it becomes less of a tool, because the effectiveness wears off, and it creates more situations where you cant survive without it. But my major reason? Vanity, of course! I noticed the day I had 2 cappucinos my appetite went up, so all my ducks have been lined up.

For me to tell someone with anxiety and depression to quit drinking coffee, to me, seems cruel. But I can feel (now that the withdrawl symptoms have passed) that I am more mellow, which is good and bad. I love how coffee makes me happy and energetic, but I remind myself that reducing the times I use it makes the effects stronger.

What makes me think I am on the right track is that yesterday, I spent the night at my friends' and forgot to take my lexapro. I felt weird all day, but assumed it was lack of sleep. I realize that because the coffee wasn't pumping up my anxiety, the withdrawal symptoms were much more manageable.

I feel a sense of strength. My depression and anxiety are managed enough that I can survive without coffee. It gives me hope that one day I can go off medication long enough to be pregnant and breast feed, or, if not, it just makes me feel proud. I am strong. I dun well.

Bonjour from France

I read an old post of mine today, and felt so proud. I really feel like "Diana Crabtree" was something good. I know it was good for me, it really helped me rise out of depression, but I also think (hope) that a post or two might have influenced someone else.

I am writing this from France, staying with friends I met in India. When I started Diana Crabtree I was so depressed that getting up and brushing my teeth was a challenge that I only did when neccessary. Today I am outgoing and spend time on myself, even a little flashy.

My point? The journey out of depression is worth it. Taking the medication is worth it. Swithing from an all sugar all fat diet to a slightly healthier one is worth it. CHANGING the way you see things to more positive, more grateful, even if it reminds you of people you hate, is worth it.

I want to take a depression nap

I feel so depressed! I am breaking up with my Gym, and it feels like a real break up.

My gym was so great! It was owned by Mark, who was a special, special guy. Honestly, even though he is physically attractive, I never felt sexually attracted to him, it was more like a brother, but I really, really liked him, he was motivating, upbeat, and most of all respectful. I may be fat, but he still treated me like I have a brain in my head.

Well to squeeze the story together, I called and talked to his wife, saying I wanted to buy sessions from Mark, because he is the only one worth a damn. Her response was "He is swamped, but I'll train you" leaving me with nothing to say but OK, otherwise I would insult her, basically saying she is ALSO not worth a damn, which, by the way, she isn't.

Long story short, I am quitting the gym. It struck me that she is having Mark take care of their kid while she trains me. I was lied to, and sadly, it's not because she is trying to further her career, it's because she thinks I want to steal her stupid husband. She is tiny and blonde and I am fat. Also, what about trust?

So my gym is gone. I have to get my guts together to quit. It feels just like a breakup...

AND THERES MORE...

Toronto jackass and I are "on again" and I feel more strongly for him than ever. Of course, either he is a "bad communicator" or he is passive agressive. All I know is I feel stressed that he is mad at me, which is proof that "don't bother with toronto jackass"

AND THERES MORE...

You know my hairdresser friend? I am so tired of her. Too much walking on eggshells. I made an appointment with her yesterday, and asked her to call me, because I dont have her number. She didnt send a message to me until later saying she doesnt have my "new number" and that she gave me hers. Bullshit. She didnt want to get together that day, and she is sneakily blaming it on me. I don't even like her much anymore (too fucking bossy) but I want my fucking haircut, and I feel like I have to go to her out of loyalty or some shit. Im so pissed.

So basically. I just want to crawl back into bed. I am fat with no gym, have no sex, and I need a haircut. Oh, and I have to work with the biggest jerk tomorrow. For 4 days actually.

DEPRESSED!

Sex with a 13 year old girl who looks 18

I was that thirteen year old girl, or, more accurately, I was twelve. An ugly duckling, one day I looked in the mirror and I had these beautiful B cup boobs. My body looked like the girls on the videos on MTV, the ugly duckling was...PRETTY.

After years of being ignored by boys, they suddenly were looking at me. Not just boys but older boys, even men. I liked the attention from men, it made me feel like they were sending their adult, and therefore safe and powerful approval. I noticed that tilting my head a certain way made me more pretty, wearing a shorter skirt made me more pretty, it felt so wonderful to be pretty.

I also was so lonely. My stepmother left my dad, and my dad just started drinking so much that he was passed out every night. I was still in shock from my mother dying 4 years ago, suddenly not having a mother, a stepmother, or even a father, was so lonely and scary. Getting attention felt wonderful. Getting VALIDATION felt wonderful. Being pretty made me feel worthy, and feeling worthy was a rare thing when I had suddenly lost all of my parents.

HORNY. Did I mention I was sooo horny? I had been masturbating for years, and I was obsessed. It was this new and amazing thing. Orgasms were just...wow! It was such a fun new thing. I had sexual fantasies about David Lee Roth (I invented 69 in my head before I knew it existed!) and Atrayu from "The Neverending Story." I was a walking hormone. The kids at school had started calling me a "Slut" which was weird since I hadn't really kissed a boy unless you counted my best friend when I was six, so I knew my feelings made me weird, and bad.

Finally, I met Scott. His name has NOT been changed, to NOT protect the guilty. He was 17 and my first boyfriend. He had long stringy hair and drove an El Camino. I felt at the top of the world that he was my boyfriend.

Having never had a boyfriend, I didn't know anything, but I saw heavy metal videos and knew that sex was something boys want. I felt like "This is what you should be doing, this gives you the 'edge' with boys." I LOVED kissing. I LOVED having my boobs touched. I really didn't want to have sex yet. I wanted to THINK about having sex, but I really didn't want to do it. But I told myself this was what I should do.

I played pool with Scott at his family's hotel. I had decided "This is going to be the night I have sex" I remember laying there for what felt like ages, and how it hurt worse than anything I could ever imagine. I bled for days. Scott called me and asked me if I was a virgin, I said "NO!" quickly, ashamed he might know my horrible secret.

We had sex a second time, it hurt just as much. I had decided I will just have to be really strong and be a really good actress, sex was a must to keep this intoxicating attention from boys. I was pretty worthless (if not, my dad would be taking care of me, not passed out, ignoring me) so if I am going to keep this attention from boys I needed to use every weapon I had. Sex was it, and 4 minutes of excruciating pain every few weeks was what I would have to endure if I wanted to keep it.

I found out that Scott was cheating on me with another 12 year old girl. Apparently she wasn't having sex with him, because what 12 year old girl has sex?

Last night I saw the excellent movie Towelhead. A child in puberty is still a child. A child with an adult's body, is still a child. A child with sexual desires is still a child, and touching them is a despicable crime.

I see handsome teen athletes on my airplane, and even if their adult-seeming bodies stir something sexual in me, even if they persue me, they are still children. Their minds are the minds of children, and as an adult, I am in a postion to protect them, not abuse them. Yes, they have sexual desires, and one might desire me, but they are not intellectually ready or prepared to be responsible for that desire. Touching a child, even if their body looks like an adult, even if they request it, is rape. Molestation.

With help of my therapist, I forgave myself for persuing sex that I wasnt ready for. She reminded me that at 12, I wasn't developed enough in the first place to make a decision like that. My boyfriend was 17, so therefore a child himself. It might not have been a legal crime, but thank goodness it was 5 years, I think, before I had sex again. Because no decent person has sex with a 12 year old.

Completely awesome Website

I was researching Lexapro, and have found lots of interesting things (Learning that my sort of off-putting blase attitude & forgetting words are reported side effects) yet I was totally impressed with this site:

http://www.crazymeds.us/

What I like can be described on the first page of the site, about different unhelpful attitudes about psychotropic drugs, but also, it's funny, and when you are depressed, even the tiniest bit of humor is helpful.

Check it out! Look up your current medication or one you had an awful time with.

Porn Ruins Sex

I fly with the pornographer pilot next week. I have been writing this post in my head.

Pornography (not photos/videos of 2 happy people having sex- PORN) is the other side of the puritan Christian coin. The Puritan Christan belief that sex is a vile biological function, that like excrement, a man can try to hold in, but he must release now and then. For a woman to participate in such a vile act, and to *shudder* enjoy it, makes them as low as excrement, and therefore should be punished for it.

How better to punish them than by calling them names, shower them with biological liquids, on their body, their hair they took time to fix, on their face, in their eyes? Perhaps remove their own pleasure in the act by agressively penetrating orafices that cause pain, bleeding, permanent damage. To add to this, document the act to be distributed around the world, so her fatal choice cannot be forgotten, she is tainted with the record of her desire, and her accepting her deserved punishment.

So now these documents are available for free to curious boys and girls who want to learn about sex. At a young age these images are implanted in the minds of these growing boys and girls, whos sexuality is developing.

A sexually open girl will be punished regularly, and will usually stop being sexually open, thus leaving those sexually open women (and those trafficked and exploited) to take the brunt of the punishment. Women fall into two categories, those to be loved, and those to be fucked. To be loved a woman must walk a tightrope of being alluring, but not so much that they cross the line into deserving punishment for their allure. Makes women either want to A) shun sex or B) fulfill their own physical desires, while developing a hatred for the men.

But the difference between women who hate men, and men who hate women? Women who hate men say "I hate men." Men who hate women say "I LOVE women."

When I hadn't written in awhile- "Diana is alive"

Hey Ya'lls.

Life is pretty damn good here. The suicidally depressed Diana is very happy. I have wanted to blog now and then, but when blogger switched over to google and had a new password, I was winding down on Diana Crabtree, and so I keep forgetting how to log in! I don't know how many people still check in, but I do know that spammers have discovered my blog.

So whats new? I bought a house, I have visited Delhi, India 4 times, and am still at the airline. The depression is still in remission, I have been taking my medication consistently and practicing the things I learned in therapy (optimism and gratitude, ignoring catastrophic thinking, ignoring insulting self-talk etc)

So now I dont feel like writing anymore, but there have been a few times I wanted to but couldnt because I didnt remember the password. I really hope to blog more, because blogging is so much more fun than being productive ;)