anxiety, control, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, dominance, fears, feelings, panic, power, psycho, Psychopath, sugar

Perfect Guy

fear

He instigated fear. The contrast between his calm and pleasant demeanor and my feelings of terror every time I saw him was unfathomable. Well-educated, intelligent, nicely smelling, fit, and smiling, he did not look like a fairy tale monster. Nevertheless, his presence brought shivers up and down my spine. My friends thought I was cuckoo, their “girl, you have a screw loose, go and eat something or talk to a therapist” made me guilty. His excessive concern about my wellbeing brought about shame and remorse; he loved, he cared, and I kept rejecting him quietly panicking when he was around.

I could not loudly demonstrate my concerns. He never raised his voice, but I was fearful to answer back and disagree. Once I got brave; I took a deep breath, and looking straight into his eyes, I gasped out “I am afraid of you”. He quietly stood up and went into the kitchen. I heard him using the water and ice dispenser in his refrigerator, he came back three minutes later with a glass of ice-cold orange juice and a sparklingly bleached smile.

You think too much, silly, – he smiled watching me gulp the juice, I felt stupid.

His friends were polite and intelligent as well. They wore comfy cashmere sweaters and designer pants and discussed marketing dynamics and sales strategies. They lived in safe neighborhoods, played golf and went boating on weekends. Their women were skinny, classy, and quiet. No one ever was rude or disrespectful, they smiled, always said hello and goodbye. I always smiled back responding to their greetings and farewells with the same pleasant demeanor, but deep in my heart I knew talking beyond “the dinner is tasty, I have enjoyed your company” was not acceptable.

One day I lost my job and gave him a call; my unemployment did not kick in timely, and I needed help to pay the bills. He did not answer, I left him a voicemail prior going to bed. A loud banging sound woke me up at around midnight. I opened the front door and got hit by December coldness. He was standing on the porch, I could not see his face, but I felt the anger through the freezing darkness.

Are you ok? – I forced a smile and waved him in.

He did not move, he had a bottle in his hand, I got surprised, drinking was not about him, he was into healthy lifestyle and daily exercising.

Are you ok? – I repeated shivering as the coldness was crawling under my PJs.

You disappointed me, – the voice was muffled, I stepped back shuddering at the smell of alcohol. – I wasted all my time with you. You got everything gifts, shoes, cruises, but you want more. Now you decided to quit your job and sponge me off. You are like everyone else.

He kept talking slurring words and getting angrier. I kept standing at the doorstep frozen with fear and ice-cold weather.  Suddenly he punched the wall right next to me, I screamed and rushed inside. The front door slammed behind my back. I heard the screech of his car as he took off.

I brew green tea and took a warm bath prior going to sleep. When he called me the next morning, he was sweetly polite as usual.

You scared me last night, – I was expecting clarification and apology.

I felt used, and I overreacted

– But, I was scared, – I still believed he would dismiss my fears with humor and a fine dining invitation.

You will deal with this my love, when shall we meet again?

 – I need to be by myself.

He kept stopping by with flowers and fruit. Every time I tried to discuss that night I was given Swiss chocolate and new clothes.

Don’t you see, I am afraid of you. – He laughed, gently stroking my hair while switching the TV channels.

My friends kept calling me cuckoo. They were jealous. He was always attentive, courteous, and intelligent, he was smart, well-educated, and as perfect as a smiley guy from my favorite family yogurt commercial. I felt guilty and stupid, I panicked for nothing.

 

affection, anxiety, bi-polar, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, feelings, happiness, intimacy, life, love, mind, obsession, personalities, psycho, relations, sex, sugar

In Love with Bipolar

bipolar

I loved him manic. I loved his eyes with feverish glimmer, his excessive sensuality, his maniacal desire to be around and hug, and kiss, and snuggle.

“Remember Vixen, it’s not him, it is just his manic episode”, – my inner voice was coldly rational, mercilessly commonsensical.

 – I love you Vixen, – his fingers running through my hair, smile on my face, eyes closed, butterflies in the stomach.

Everything about him felt too much: too sweet, too warm, too gentle, too caring, too awesome.

His prolonged gazing into my eyes felt powerfully penetrating. I was in love with his manic sensuality.

 – Do you want a hug my dear? – I kept nodding YES, YES, YES, feelings shivers down my spine and warmth between the legs.

“It is just his manic episode,” – I wish my gut feeling were wrong, but I knew the intuition did not fail, I knew I was right, I knew it was not entirely him, I knew there will be the end, the flipside is coming.

Making love to him felt overly emotional. He was very passionate, loudly orgasming, tears in the eyes, his body covering mine.

 – We are the perfect match, Vixen. I love you.

He held me in his arms all night, waking me up with thousand hugs and kisses.

He taught me to laugh and cry when expressing myself in intimacy.

– You are the princess, this is how you should be always treated.   

Wake up, it is just the manic episode”, – I was shaking my heard trying to get rid of the inner voice, I was in heaven, I did not want to know any further.

 – Please stay, do not leave, take a day off, I need you here, – I saw sadness in his eyes as I started packing my suitcase. The weekend was coming to the end, I had errands to run prior the start of the new week, – please stay, you can drive to work from here, I really want you.

 – I gotta go my dear, I need some paperwork to finish…

  – Please stay

  – I can’t, – he kept me up 3 nights, I felt exhausted, I needed to go back home and get some sleep.

 – You can, just stay, just be here, – his physical warmth was sincere and seductive, I gave in.

The Monday morning started with a headache, redness in the eyes, and immense fatigue. I was taking a shower trying to wake up when I heard him opening the curtain. – Can I take a shower with my princess?

 I could not do it, I was in a hurry, he was fresh and excessively passionate. Staying up all these days and nights did not get him tired.  – I will take you to Italy and Spain, just tell me when, and I will book the flights.

 – I am sorry, I gotta get ready for work

 – Croatia maybe?

 – Please, – losing the job was not something I could afford.

 – Maybe England, what does my princess want?

I had to leave, he had a flight of ideas. “It is the manic episode, just a manic episode”, – he was holding me close under the running water, he was insatiably affectionate, I was exhausted and cranky.

 – Vixen, please, do NOT leave.

 – I gotta go.

His texting and calling were excessive for the next couple of hours, waning gradually by the afternoon. I felt physically and mentally broke throughout the day; I really did not care that he did not call or text “Good night, honey” in the evening, I was tired and sleepy.

Quiet Tuesday, quiet Wednesday, quiet Thursday, quiet Friday, no show – no call.

It was the manic episode, he is back to his depressed self, you won’t hear from him for a while”, – my inner voice was right.  He disappeared entirely, I slowly returned to my normal routine.  The first couple of weeks were tough. Surviving the mental withdrawal from the happy romance fairy-tale was painful and self-destructive.

He is bi-polar, unstable, alcohol-induced, and benzos-driven, he will be up and down all the time”. – I knew that, I accepted that, I had to move on.

2 months later he called me back, wanting to meet, submerging me in love, passion, and flights of ideas.

 – I love you Vixen, – he was gentle and generous, loving and giving.

 – My dear…, – I paused trying to find the appropriate word, almost knocked out by his charm and excessive sexuality, – I love you… I love you so much in your manic episode.

 

 

 

bi-polar, control, crazy, fears, feelings, happiness, health, life, mind, obsession, panic, personalities, power, psycho, reality

Ignore Your Mind Games, Just Live

masks

 – I am tired of your games, – Jim was angry, I was quietly snacking on a pine apple.

Split personality, getting through my days under endlessly changing masks; altering the thought process based on the day of the week, on the frequency of sugar intake, and on the degree of the body dehydration. That was my way of living.

 – You are bi-polar and seriously psychotic, don’t you see? – Jim looked pissed. I kept licking the pine-apple juice off my fingers.

Unlike myself, Jim’s perception of the reality was consistent. His mindset was consistently locked in the world of profit and loss statements, dull numbers, and endless money-making. He was unable to grasp any diversion from the linear buying-cheap-selling-high approach.-

If you hate chaos, why are you still with me?

 – I like you, Vixen. I can be your sugar daddy, all I ask is your consistency, – He obviously loved what he called “craziness” and “psychosis”, – you need therapy and medication.

 – My therapist told me what you did to me when we met is rape.

 – Change your therapist, she is an idiot.

He was insistent on my mental diagnosis and on my inability to survive without his pervasive interference in my life.  – I am the most normal person you have ever met, Vixen. You have no idea how lucky you are that I am around. You are a very poor judge of character; people that you choose are really weird.

 – I know. – With time, I learned how to deal with my mind games; I knew that my mind gets me down throwing me into deadly hopelessness every Monday morning, every weekend without Greg, every failed job interview, every time my expectations do not match the reality.

The mind could spin relentlessly, sinking me in despair. I knew when panic attacks will return, I knew exactly what they will be about. I knew the first signs of mania, I knew when and how I will be kicked out of euphoria straight into the gloom and doom of the depressive episode.

At first, I was searching for the triggers to catch, to prevent, to cope, then I got bored and stopped wasting my time on digging into the crap of childhood traumas and heart-breaking love stories. I got tired of reacting to endless mind dramas, the mind repertoire was limited, dull, and nauseously primitive. I just kept doing what needed to be done without reacting to the hysteria of the tiny tape-recorder in my head.

I knew I was cuckoo, I did not care.

Jim was cuckoo too, he was stuck in solely one reality that his mind kept creating for him throughout his life. Fixated on success, unable to share, and mercilessly using others, he continued suffering every time his obsession with power and control broke against common sense. He kept picking up the tiny pieces of his illusions of strength and dominance, trying to clue them together and resume control, repeating the same break-and-repair insanity cycle over and over again.

 – Vixen, how many personalities do you have? I counted at least six.   

 – Millions or billions, whatever the mind creates, but I do not bother….

 – Why? – dark eyes, black hair, and Italian background, he was hot and charismatic, at least this is how my mind wanted me to perceive him.

 – I do not care because I do not exist, you do not exist either. And it really does not matter what the mind will want us to see and to feel as long as we use the mind as a tool, and we do not allow it to use us instead.

 

affection, bi-polar, broken heart, control, crazy, dating, relations, feelings, disgust, dominance, fears, feelings, happiness, intimacy, life, love, obsession, power, psycho, Psychopath, reality, relations, sex, submission, sugar

Evil Behind the Mask

evil

What does the evil look like? Is it someone leather-faced, smelling like decayed teeth and low-income household?

Dave was handsome, highly educated, and wealthy; warm, smiley and polite.

Intimacy with him felt like heaven, he was gentle, affectionate, and caring. “I hug you, and you smile, one day I will see you smiling all the time. It will make me happy.”  He had a great body, nicely smelling bed-linen, huge master bedroom, and high-quality home sound system.

 – What kind of music does my Vixen want?

 – Can we do Mozart?

 – You need something relaxing, what about meditation music?

 – Ok, – I shrugged my shoulders and went into the bathroom, being intimate with him felt relaxing. Sex was not merely joyful or fun, it was spectacular, phenomenal, magical, fantastic.

 – I need to take you shopping, my Vixen needs new dresses.

 – Maybe next time? I gotta pick up my kid from his daycare.

 – No, we will go now, I will choose, since I am paying. Your facial expression…. It has changed, that’s funny…

He had a great taste, the outfit he bought looked awesome. I was thankful and quiet. He did not want me to speak unless he expected answers to his questions.

Talking makes you anxious, dear, you get into your shitty moods that make you unhappy. I want you happy, this is my goal, princess, to make you happy.

 – Yeah, but I just wanted

 – Shh … silly, – he covered my mouth with his hand, – When I speak, you listen, ok?

Physical closeness was awesome, simply awesome, he was very expressive and emotional; I was touched, I kept breaking into tears, he liked it. – There is nothing wrong about showing your feelings, Vixen. You are certainly allowed to do it around me. You gotta read good books, spiritual literature. It will help you grow and become a better person. You can’t be a sugar baby all your life.

I found Seroquel and an empty Tequila bottle on one of his book shelves behind Luke Rhinehart and Teachings of the Buddha. – I have zero tolerance for alcohol. I can’t be around someone who drinks, Dave.

 – One of my friends left the bottle here, he stopped by yesterday, we meditated.

 – Are you taking anti-psychotic meds with alcohol?

 – I took half a pill, the first time in ten years, I stopped drinking long time ago. You gotta relax and stop your crazy thinking, I feel bad when I see you suffering, luv.

 – Why did you take it?

 – My ex stopped by, she is horrible, the most negative person in the world, she tried to commit suicide several times when we were together. I was anxious all night after that, the pill helped me sleep.

 – I thought it is your ex-girlfriend who tried to kill herself.

 – My ex-wife was also crazy, she is a very miserable person, she needs help. I had back luck with women in the past. You are the angel Vixen, I am blessed to have you in my life.

Sex was mind-blowing, I left his house feeling the happiest person in the world that night. He constantly wanted me around. He paid for my son’s sitter and for the hours I missed work to be with him. – You are working too much, it makes no sense, even my cleaners do better financially, honey. You need to change your career. I do not want my princess to stress twenty-four hours a day. It makes me sad to watch you suffer.   

 – I will end up losing my job if I continue taking time off. I can’t afford it, I need to feed my son.

 – I will take care of you both. Trust me, you will never be homeless and hungry.

 – I can take vacation later, maybe a couple of months from now?

 – Now, – suddenly his smile froze, – I will take care of everything:  flights, hotels, food, shopping… I want you to start packing now. Your son can go with us, I love kids.

 – I can’t.

 – Yes, you can, – he grabbed me by the shoulders and started shaking. My head hit the cupboard door. I screamed, he quickly released the grip and gave me a hug. – Are you ok my dear?

I saw blood on the light-wood cupboard door and concern in his dark eyes as he was gently checking my head.– Just a tiny scratch, nothing serious, love.

 – I may need to see a doctor. I hit my temple.    

 – They will rip you off and do nothing. I owned several medical practices, people there are morons. You should not trust them. I will take care of you.

 – I need to go.

 – You need to stop talking now. – The sudden change in his voice was frightening.

That afternoon was the first time I did not leave his house mesmerized by his charm and the way he used his penis. The evil was there caring and smiling, carefully drying my skin with a soft towel after a bath and holding hands while sleeping. The evil was there, slowly but surely cuffing me to the 2-million dollar home with substance abuse and mental health issues. The evil was there gently destroying the identity through manipulation and control slowly leading others to suicidal ideation. The evil had the face of an upper class guy with refined manners, hard cock, and fat banking accounts.

It took time to finally see the dirty truth inside the fancy packaging box.

Emy, psycho, Rick

Psychopath, Rick, His House


fantasy-3060912_1920
The second time I met Rick was in Jacksonville. My company sent me for training, which was long and boring. The hotel I was staying smelled like the combination of laundry detergent and pool chlorine. The guests next door were drunk and loud. As soon as I opened the door to the terrace, the smell of weed hit me in the face. The thought of staying in through the evening was horrifying. I recalled Rick had a house in Jacksonville. Our first meeting was bad. He freaked me out with his weird statements about knocking me up, and I ran away. I was scared, Greg was pissed. Rick was his friend, and I was rude and hysterical. I should have called the receptionist and complained about bad smells and partying behind the wall; but I figured having dinner with Greg’s friend would be more fun. That psychiatrist was nuts during that fishing tournament in Saint Pete, but I decided to give him a second chance. Actually, I decided to give myself a second chance, I needed a company for that evening, I felt tired, forgotten, and lonely.
 
He immediately responded to my “Hey, how are you doing?” and said he was glad I gave him a call.
          Vixen, I thought you forgot about me and moved on, where are you?
 We chatted about heavy Friday traffic, work stress, and weather. He seemed to be happy I had no plans for the evening and invited me to dinner. I gave him the address of the hotel, and met him in the lobby.  
 
Vixen, I am glad you are here. You have been on my mind since that tournament, sorry I was busy, I did not get a chance to call you, long hours, I was swamped – I quietly smiled to his blah, blah, blah. He did not call, because he was not interested. Obviously, something went wrong for him that Friday night, and I was his chance to get lucky at the end of the day.
He was polite and pleasant at the dinner table. He did not not sound like nuts, not at all. He talked about research and his postdoc students, I pretended I was interested.
When the dinner was over, he asked about my plans for the rest of the evening. I shrugged my shoulders. He had dark eyes and a white smile. He was very tall, athletic and knowledgeable of statistics. I was planning to go back to my room and run SPSS for my research proposal. Multiple regression and boy push-ups, packing the suitcase and trying to get some sleep prior going back home was on my to-do list.
 
          My house is not far from here, would you like to come over?
I suddenly remembered Jim’s words, “this guy is weird, his obsession with knocking up women is freaking dangerous, stay away” and thought Jim was jealous. He hated losing, and he was losing me to Greg all the time. Rick was Greg’s friend, no wonder why he could not stand the guy.
 
          Do you want to come to my place?  – Rick got persistent, I was ready to return to the hotel.
          I do not think it is a good idea
          Why? – he had something in common with Jim, same deep penetrating look, same hypnotic demeanor, same reluctance to accept no. Guys like this turned me on.
          Because I do not know you, going to a stranger may be dangerous. You work with severe mental cases, you should know better.  
          I am not a stranger to you, we saw each other before. You know Greg and Emy, actually, they are my best friends.
          I am tired, – I was not into going to his place. Sending mixed signals and giving fake hopes to fuck was fun, but I was not going to get laid after flirting.
          Come on, your hotel stinks, we will chat, and I will take you back
          I do not fuck on a first date
          As you wish, – suddenly, his voice got carelessly sexless. His hotness was gone, I felt like I was speaking to a girlfriend.
          What shall we do if we do not fuck?
          I will show you my new house, Greg said you like fish tanks, I have homegrown coral reefs.
 
His vehicle was new and expensive. I complimented his driving, he laughed and put his hand on my knee. Of course he lied about living close to the hotel. After 30 minutes of driving, we finally turned into his driveway. I got out shivering; it was chilly, dark, and late. I knew there were no fish tanks as soon as I saw the outside of his house. The house looked dark, very dark. Red sea coral reefs require lighting that I would see from the street. He lied again.
 
He is a psycho, it is not normal to tell a girl you just met you want to knock her up. If you can’t see that then you have issues ”. Jim’s words in my heard got louder as I came to the front door.
He let me in and turned on the light in the living room. I slightly nodded to his “I gotta make a phone call, make yourself comfortable”, he went upstairs, I looked around. The house was new, huge, and inhospitable, I felt lost trying to find a restroom when I saw that door. I lost count of rooms, everything looked, felt, and smelled new, brand spanking new, dark, and demonic; everything about that place seemed to be reflective of Rick’s gloomily polite personality. That door I ran into flipping switches and not seeing any fish tanks (Rick was a liar, which did not surprise me much at that point), but that door freaked me out.  It was almost destroyed, ripped like a feathered pillow. It looked like someone repeatedly stabbed it with a knife. I shuddered at the contrast between the quiet cleanliness of the house and the badly damaged plywood and hurried back turning the lights off on my way to the living-room.
 
Rick was still upstairs when I reached out for my iPhone. “Hey Emy, what is Rick’s address in Jacksonville? I may stop by to say hi” She responded almost immediately, I knew she was hopeful I will hook up with that psycho and forget about Greg.  As soon as I had the address, I contacted taxi services, and slid the iPhone into my handbag.  
 
He finally got off the phone, came downstairs, and handed me water with ice.
          I see no fish tanks here, – I still saw that stabbed door in front of me as I was talking to him; my voice was surprisingly dispassionate, I felt weird.
          I forgot, I have them in Boca.
          I should go than. There is no point for me to be here.
          Why? Greg said you are fun and submissive
          Greg lied, – I shifted my gaze to the front door and saw the taxi lights through the fiberglass.  – I gotta go, my taxi is here.
          What happened when I was on the phone? – he looked surprised and disappointed.
          I did not see any fish tanks, there is no point for me to stay here
          You know, – the tone of his voice froze me as I was pushing the heavy front door. – I never understood Greg. You are very averagely looking and anorexic. Bye slut, – he flipped from calm to hysterical within seconds. I felt happy the cab was waiting outside.
 
I entered my hotel room and broke in tears; coming into a stranger’s household was carelessly stupid. The torn-up door was still on my mind, it was still freaking me out. Whoever ripped it had issues, serious mental issues.
 
The next morning started with a text from Emy. She was curious if I was with Rick the night before. I responded “it went well” and started packing my suitcase getting ready to leave.