The Sense Of Being Something, But At The End You're Not

I enjoy date nights and spending time with a man who has a lot to say. He is witty and so sexy at the same time. I have to admit after I wrote this section of my friend, I started to cry. Yeah, just out of the middle of nowhere. Yesterday, I decided to see the doctor about my mental health. It was one of the most challenging things I had to do as a "Strong and Independent Woman." I was being sarcastic in my statement if you didn't get it. The common thing for me is crying out of nowhere. I am seeking counseling, and that is something that is a challenge nowadays. It is a challenge because there are so many other individuals who need counseling, too. Mental health is becoming a huge issue in an individual's life. For me, I have dealt with it for far too long. I've known my mental health has had its days, from terrible days to good promising days. However, lately, my days are turning into days that I can not shake off. I could combat it and get at the root before it got me. I thought that having a Master's Degree would help me get further in life. It seems I make the wrong decisions all the time. It is a problem. But problems can be solved; sometimes, it takes a minute to solve. 

This week was a fantastic week to finally see my friend from Texas. It is something else when, after a while, you are apart from someone. It's a relief to see them again. I was relieved to see him again. He took me out to dinner, wined and dined me, and even bought ribeye dinners for my kids. That was something of a huge surprise. One of the things he had to do this week was get his new office put together. He would plan a time to get together and then had to change it due to going out of town to get his furniture. It can be hard to trust, but I am okay with the rainchecks in this relationship. I have to get used to it because this particular situation is different. He is short-term in my life; however, I hope it lasts. I love listening to all his stories when we are together, and I love his dog; she is so sweet. I think she loves me too. She makes me feel special, like my other dog, Grayson, who always wants to be there when I leave. My dog loves to go places with me, too. Surprisingly, he is good at sitting with me while fishing at the lake. Sometimes, he gets bored, and I should get him out and run around in the woods. Anyway, I got off track again. My friend has a sweet cutie pie dog, just the apple of my eye. The next time, I need to bring her a beef snack. She is that wonderful. I let my friend know that she is the reason I see him... I am smiling at what I just wrote. Last night was fun; I enjoy just being with him even though we don't go out and do things. 

I would like to take him to the Navajo reservation and have him meet my family. I think they would like to meet him. I brought one other friend with me not too long ago, except he was very young. It was a good experience for him. He got to be part of a Navajo wedding ceremony and ate lots of good food. In my van, we spent the night under the dark night sky of Monument Valley, UT. We stayed in separate areas of the truck; he stayed on his side, and I stayed on mine. It was a good trip with him; I showed him some places along the way back and finally got him home to his traveling vehicle. He is a wanderer and has no home; he likes it that way. He really is an exciting kind of guy. He is a vagabond. I admire the way he chooses to live his life. He is around the area and probably getting ready for the winter season. 

So, taking my Texas friend to Monument Valley is one of my goals for me to do. When we first met, we chatted over Tinder and got to know each other. He really wanted to meet me, and I was okay to meet him for some reason. He was very abrupt at meeting me, so I agreed. I don't know why, but I was not like that before with men. I am usually the one who reschedules or cancels for some reason or another. I'm thankful the guy that I was seeing before the Texan, ghosted me for a long period of time, didn't text me back that night. I was really grateful because I would've been stupid and canceled to meet with the Texan instead. I was nervous to meet him because I always had to have the approval of the guy to want me. I thought this guy was a big wig or something, "So act better than what you are, Diana!" So I waited in Starbucks on North Avenue, the high traffic of homeless people and thugs in the area. It's not the safest place in the area. But I like the Starbucks there, and outside, you can hear the commotion of the baseball stadium, so it was, in my mind, perfect. So he comes in finally after trying to find his way around. He comes in, and I am like, wow, this guy is a construction man. I was immediately attracted to him; he held his hand out to me and drew me close for a hug. A greeting, a wonderful, warm, kind greeting. I liked it. Then he buys me coffee, and we go outside; the rest is history. I talked, and he spoke himself, and then we made out, outside by his truck. He was frisky and fresh, and I was eating it all up. Now, here we are almost two months into our initial meeting. It's crazy how time flies and how things come together; he is a man of great character. 

So now that I am still getting to know him, he is pretty sharp; he knows a lot even though he won't tell me all he knows of me. He didn't think I had an appointment to see the doctor yesterday. Last night, I went to his place because we had it in for each other; we were hungry for sex. I'll just be blunt about it. So after our lovely time with one another, he asked me about my day. I told him, "It was good; I had to go to a doctor's appointment today." He was concerned, he asked, "For what? What's the matter?" I told him, "Eh, it's for my depression, anxiety, and ADHD." I looked at him to see a reaction. He's asked, "Why are you depressed?" I explained that I had been struggling with it for a long time. He was interested in knowing why I had come to this place. I had to let him know what was going on with me, just because I think it's important to let people in your life know what is happening with you. I didn't want to not tell him but also to see what his reaction would be to me being diagnosed with this condition. It's weird to be diagnosed with a mental illness and take medication for it. I hope, in my case, I won't have to need it for too long; I hope I can at least get off it eventually. If not, then I have a road of repair for myself. Maybe I can be one of those older women who goes to the gym and becomes buff and super healthy, then I won't be depressed anymore. 

Who knows what the time on this earth will bring to me. It takes time to live life and figure it all out. At the moment, writing blogs is my go-to. It helps my brain process; it helps to get it out of there into the space of nothing in the web. Do people read my blog? I don't know; maybe they do, and that's okay. It's okay that some read my blog, and it's okay that others do not. All I know is that it is healing; it gives me a sense of purpose to write about my life and how I feel. I hope that whoever reads my blog relates to it. If someone reads my blog, it helps them somehow, like, "Gee! I didn't know I was the only one going through this?" Then, that is all that matters to me. Well, life isn't all roses and smelling happy all the time. It can be a struggle for some people. Even if they haven't experienced real life, real trauma, it just happens.

Something in the brain struggles; somewhere in the brain, sometimes just doesn't connect well. I recently got a tattoo last month in August, and it's a tattoo of a neurotransmitter of the brain and how the connection occurs. I look at it occasionally to remember that not all neurotransmitters don't snap well. Mine sometimes does, but what if there is no synapse in how the chemical occurs? The chemical makes us happy or sad; if there is no dopamine or serotonin in that travel passage to connect, there is a problem. I like my tattoo; I love the biology of the brain. It is definitely a wonderfully complex system.

When It Gets Too Hard

I am not sure how life is supposed to continue. Does happiness have to be present? Or do the questions brew in your mind like why am I here? Sometimes, lately, I have had those thoughts in my mind. Maybe, it's something that has to do with the season, or it's something else. These last two weeks have admittedly been a struggle for me. My mind is blown out of proportion to the extent that I just want to dig a hole and hide in it. I have found that depression is an onset that appears so quickly that you don't recognize it fast enough to suppress it. The last time that I was feeling like this, and it was pretty bad, was in 2011. I was attending Dine College in Shiprock, NM, and developed some close friends of mine. I started my education career by attending college on the reservation. It was the highlight of my life, I felt like I was making a difference. I was part of an organization promoting and educating the HIV/AIDS prevention team. It was a wonderful learning experience. I miss the people I worked with, They were a bold, compassionate, and fun bunch of colleagues. They were Navajo and had a passion for Public Health Prevention, and they cared so much for the community of our Navajo Nation. I was a Peer Educator and loved the position of promoting prevention with my community. The one thing that was enjoyable was the presentations that I would put together. They trusted me to build a presentation and share it. I'd put it together, and reach out to community organizations, schools, or jails to present my presentation. I would display incentive pieces to give out to the ones who sat in and listened to me. It was always fun to travel with one of my colleagues.

While this was going on, I started to feel defeated, because there was one class that was so challenging to me that it was tearing up my brain. Especially, when it comes to remembering things and trying to understand them at the same time. The connection was not there. I buckle when it comes to multiple-choice questions, I tend to get scrambled, and my mind just webs out like an out-of-control directional map that has no point of direction. I am not sure if you can understand the brain that has an effect, then when you try and try, then you fail due to attempts, you feel like a major loser. The instructor I had would get frustrated, that I failed, I think at one point he gave up on me. I had another professor who was like that at the other school I attended. It is not a great feeling, but I understand why they felt that way. They are educational leaders who have used their curriculum and students, I'm sure pass their exams. In my mind, it functions very differently, I hope others are the same. I hope there are those reading this can relate. I am currently trying to get through an exam that is going to be my fourth attempt. Four times, I often think, am I the only one who is struggling to pass this test that I think I know? It is not easy at all in my mind. But when I read the materials, I understand the concept. It's the exams that don't make sense to me. It's the way they change the concept that I just learned that makes it so difficult. I can't wrap my understanding around the change of wording put into it.

The anxiety and the fear of losing my position in my current employment have got to me. I am being weighed with negativity and I can not escape it. The last time that this was an issue was at the time, as I mentioned before, attended Dine College. I used to drive forty-five minutes to and fro to school each day. I lived out in the middle of nowhere with my children in a Housing Authority on the reservation. My place started to become out of control I didn't keep up and I just wanted to escape all the time. I started to become less happier, and when I would drive home, I would have suicidal ideation. On the reservation, we can drive as fast as we want, without insurance, and without tags on the car. The Navajo Nation police really don't do much to enforce the traffic laws. I suppose if they were bored and felt like enforcing then yes they would go out and give out tickets. But when it comes to anything tragic, they are there when they can be. Other than that FBI steps in to take care of the tragedy, which is another story of the Feds that so-called care for us Natives. It's a joke. At any rate, I was dealing with wanting to end my life again. This would be the second time in my life that I have tried or thought of ending my life. I suppose it just sneaks up on you. It's like out of the blue, if I felt any inclusion from work, I would get a bit depressed, but I always seem to catch it and work on myself. This time it feels different. I feel like at the moment I want to be away. But then again, I don't want to be away, I want to stay put where I'm at like I don't want to go anywhere. I can't explain the way it is. I had a wonderful friend who I talked to and she prayed with me. She has a heart of the Lord that is present with Him. Her prayers and her tears, healed me, and gradually I carried on, we spent time together just laughing and hanging out. It was what I needed. Everything else was just a memory of my depression and suicide. My friend worked at Dine College. 

Sometimes, memories come back and at times it hits hard and heavy. It seems at my age it's very heavy. Like I can not seem to shake this cement block off me. The other day, I was at my wits end, I saw my kids, and my family as a reason to make a change. I talked to my daughter about my feelings and my work, and she told me, "Mom! Do not quit! It's not an option." I looked at her, and said, "I won't..." I decided to make an appointment and talk to a professional about my issues and whatever they suggest I am going to try to make it one step at a time. I suppose stating my voice to say something to someone helps in get a bit further in living my life. The ultimate goal in my life is accountability. I want to be accountable in my life, I want to be responsible for my actions. Even if it hurts me, or the other person. I think this is my position to take the proper actions to my accountability to myself, and the responsible route to get the help that I need. There are not many who can say they have the support, but the one thing that gets to me is my children. When I tell them something that I am going to do, they support it. I was there for my children when I could, my daughter was always crying for me to help her until I opened my mind to actually help. I was not focused on her needs or my son's needs. Children are the most amazing gifts to a parent. Especially, a single one. I wished I was a better parent, instead of thinking that they could do it themselves, but instead, I'm busy trying to make a life for us. Alcohol was the worst, I thank God that, that part of my life is not an option for my depression. I confess, there was a split second or two that it was something I could do.

I am looking forward to my appointment to get the help that I need. I am also thankful I can write about this in my blog to get it out of my mind and out of my system. This helps a lot. I hope the struggles that weigh you down, are lifted, I hope that whoever is reading this considers life, and contentment in life. It may not be happy, but at least we have the contentment of trying to meet ourselves at the crossroads to beat the demon that is always trying to destroy us. 

Good Mornings and My Coffee

Days are getting shorter. I noticed the light in the morning is darker, and the evenings are getting shorter. Although the fun is about to end on longer days, having cooler mornings and much cooler days is nice. When I was a little girl living in Moab, UT, I was so excited the weather was getting cooler and colder. I loved bundling up warm and buying coats and jackets to wear at school; in Middle School and High School, I worked so I could buy whatever I wanted. I started working at the age of twelve years old. My parents loved that I worked because they didn't have to buy me anything. Anyway, I am getting off track. My favorite is how the weather changed from super hot to cool down. The coffee tastes better in the mornings, and my bed feels so much better with tons of blankets and pillows. The energy bill is the only thing I can't get better in my life. It gets high in cost in the summer, and then when winter hits, it is as costly as it was during the summer. A person living in America can't win these days. However, I am ecstatic about the Fall season. The sad and frustrating part is this particular season only lasts a minute during the year. I hope the Fall season stays longer. The other day, I was outside, and I didn't have to take off my jacket and feel like I was in a sauna. When I got into my car, the seats were not as hot as usual, and I didn't have to run my air conditioner. It was fantastic. 

Now that I have mentioned the change in seasons again, I decided to make myself a cup of buttered coffee this morning. Have you ever had a cup of buttered coffee? If you haven't, I suggest you make one. It is the best coffee drink in the world. I rate it better than a latte. The way I make it is I start with real butter (2 Tablespoons) in a blender, a teaspoon of any kind of coffee syrup, I always like to add some Stevia (1 heaping teaspoon), and lastly, my brewed coffee. Then you'll see the magic happens after blending it all together. The coffee turns into a beautiful froth, and it is yummy. This is my favorite to have during the Fall season. It is better than a Latte at Starbucks; that is my opinion. I had one cup this morning and then had my regular coffee. Yes, the Fall season is good, with the best coffee drink in the brisk mornings.

There is nothing better than having my friend from Texas return, and I got to see him last night. I was getting a bit lonely, but now I am better. However, I'll be lonelier when he leaves. I know I keep mentioning that notion. I hate to admit it, but it's true. I am at the moment choking back the tears. I know all this will be okay; I know my worth now. Being fifty, my Texan man, is my true lesson this year, and knowing that I should not be afraid of having a relationship. Isn't that something? I was so afraid of relationships that I was no longer afraid when I hit fifty. 

What is it about being at the age that I am at? Living this long at a half-century old, I love indicating that I am indeed a half-century old. It just makes me feel honored to live this long and finally learn the tricks of the trade. I mean, look at me; I was an alcoholic, and I'm kind of understanding the mechanisms of paying my bills. I have to say that I am very proud of myself. I am staying consistent in my blog, maybe because I love writing or because I feel something is missing. I was in a Master's program that required me to write constantly. Writing is a release from life, and it's my outlet to go about my day without thinking I am a loser. When I write in my blog, I feel like I am actually writing a book about my life and what I am doing in my life. I write about lessons to be learned and the age that I am at. I have always wanted to go on and on about myself in a blog. Again, I am laughing at what I just typed out. I have many thoughts in my brain; it is weird. My thoughts are all over the place. I have one area of my thoughts that is stirring with nothing but sex, and then another area stirring with what about my health. However, there's another part that is thinking about hoping to pass my Life and Health Insurance exam. But my current goal, besides getting laid, is to be confident and happy. Sometimes, I think there's something not right about me. I tell you what. I think it's because I'm Navajo. Never mind about my current goal. I think getting laid is my goal all the time. 

Every person is different; I think it is how they live in society. As a child, I was always intrigued by how people lived. At a young age, I was raised in a Christian home. I had a beautiful mother who was a model to me. She was to teach me the ways of being a woman; little did she know I was nothing like her. To be honestly true, my mother was better than me. She loved the Lord; she loved being obedient. Her desire was for her kids to have what she knew and who she was. Legalistically, it didn't work for me. I was always the rebellious one. I wanted to smoke cigarettes, drink alcohol, and have sex. I wanted to explore the effects of who I was, but then there were the guilty feelings of trying it or the consequences of being drunk. I don't remember my first time. I was so drunk one night that a guy took advantage of me and took my virginity away. Sometimes, I wished I remembered my first time when I was no longer a virgin. But I don't. Sometimes, when I think about it, I try to remember it, but it is shameful. I know I am not the only one who doesn't remember because I'm sure someone experienced the same thing. At any rate, it's what led me, I think, to be a sex mongrel. A monstrous woman with an appetite for one man in my life; who he is, I have no clue. But he has to be out there, the one for me till the end of my life. That is all I want. Society and women always have to state shit, like, "I don't need a man; women don't need a man in their lives. We are strong, independent women." I call bullshit on that. I would love a man to spend the rest of my life with. To have sex when I want it, not trying to search for it. Why search for it when you can have it at home? Yes, the toys that women purchase are fine and dandy. However, it's not the real thing. I have toys; they were a gift from the last guy I met, the one who drank too much. I have never had anything like that, EVER.

One night, after spending time with one another, he asked me if I use toys when I am with men. I let him know that I don't have any. I let him know that I have never had anything like that in my life. They were used on me, but I don't remember cause I blacked out after a night of drunkenness. He told me, "Get your clothes on; we're going to the sex shop." I looked at him and said, "Seriously?" He was so country he said, "Get yer ass going woman." I laughed at him, then said, "OOOO, this is going to be fun!" Yeah, I am not the typical pristine Christian woman. I struggle with trying to be godly and perfect like those women in church. In my eyes, that is how I see them. I know they struggle too. Anyway, yep, that was my gift from him that night. I know I mention this guy all the time. Something interesting about this man is that he opened me up to be a woman of confidence. I don't know why, actually, I do know why. I have this foopa, and I hate it. It is one of the less attractive things about me. At least, that is what I think. When I was with him, the second encounter, cause the first was a dud because he was intoxicated. I don't think he saw who I was; he had his drunk goggles on. So it was the second encounter when being with him. He literally took off my clothes in front of him. His eyes were hungry, and I was so insecure about my foopa. I took my dress and held it over my tummy. He told me, "No, stop that, you don't do that, don't cover up, you're sexy and hot." I am unsure, but after what he told me, I was confident enough to drop that dress and jump into bed with him. I felt so sexy that night. I was a new woman after that, and my foopa? I still hate it, but I am not that hateful about it anymore. It was his eyes that did it. If I can find eyes like his again, to be with me for the rest of my life. I think I would be content. I might want to kick his ass occasionally, but I would be content.  

My Thoughts of Him Again

There is a song that is an addicting tune for now. I discovered this song this morning while drinking my coffee. It's called "Lost on You" by LP. So this song is beautiful and perfect; my mind is engaged, and my thoughts are with the alcoholic guy! What the effers... I was driving to the meeting this morning, listening and singing this song all the way to town. I ended up reminiscing about the guy. I don't know why; maybe I am laying his memory to rest. My mind was in deep thought of him. His eyes and his voice, the way his mouth tasted. Oh gosh, here I go again... One of the memories I am about to tell you is intimate. So, if you have virgin eyes and want to keep your mind clean, do not continue to read.

When I was with him the last time, this was his birthday. We were intimate at his place; it was fun. We had just got back from playing our game of stop and go. We were so into each other that we had our moment outside his place. He lives in the country, so there are hardly any public bystanders. Except for far away neighbors, I enjoy having risky fun, like almost getting caught doing something like sex. I don't know why; I suppose it's the thrill of it all. The closeness of him on top of me was so sexy and hot. Both of us sweating on each other. I whispered in his ear, and he whispered in mine, kissing each other and holding each other close. I held him tight like I wanted him to enter my soul. He'd ask me a question, and I'd whisper softly in his ear, begging him. Telling him in my soft voice, "Be gentle, baby... Will you be nice to me?" His response was agonizing, "Yes," he said, "I will be gentle," in return, I whispered into his ear, "Promise, baby?" I held him close and pushed him deep inside me as much as possible. He finally engaged in a relieved sound... his sweat dripped on my face as he moaned. I just looked at him and wiped his face and forehead. He removed himself from me, and his face was as if he was speechless. He smiled and shook his head. He said, "I don't know about you," all I could say was, "What do you mean?" I smiled at him; he walked over to his place and stood in front of a fan blowing in his face, smiling. I held his hand and said, "You are so sexy." 

After our encounter, I left to give him some time to do his work around his house. I let him do his work, our last close intimacy of almost spiritual connection. This was the memory I was thinking about this morning while driving to my meeting. I would have everything to do with this man if he didn't drink so much alcohol; his drinking always ruined everything. If I could only get what I want. It's never that easy, and it is never fair. This song brings to my mind all the memories of being close to him, especially the last time I was with him. For some reason, I know I'll encounter him someday. Or maybe he will finally find that woman he has always wanted. I suppose putting the memory to rest is good. If you read my memory of intimacy and think I'm a weirdo, then so be it. But can you honestly think that even your memories don't bring up intimate, sexy encounters like mine? Sometimes, it just sneaks into your mind to remind you of what was and is to come. Life goes on, and we take the memories with us to enjoy what we had one time in our lives.

Realization Of Myself

As a fifty-year-old woman, I realized the worth of myself. The dating scene has taught me valuable insights about who I am. The last guy continues to text me, but I am not persuaded by him like before. I thought for a while that he was a soul tie. However, it turned out he was not. He continued to text me last night into the early morning hours of this morning. I responded once last night, stating that I was not interested and was out. I had told him this before; I suppose he thought he could convince me. In reality, his drinking caused him to continue with ongoing text messages. The only time I get these messages is when he has been drinking. Sometimes I respond, and sometimes I do not. You might think it is wrong for me to keep him on my phone; my reason is that I want to know that he is still alive and well. Also, if he needs someone to talk to or decides to seek help in becoming sober, I would like to keep that line open. The thing about me is I like to give the benefit of the doubt or chance to help in any way I can give help to someone I know. I may not completely know him, but I can see his struggle. I used to be him; I can relate. In my blog, I mentioned him, and the night I was with him. That night, he was very intoxicated, and I ended up taking care of him. That was a crazy night, and I didn't want him to screw up his work schedule for the week because of his drinking.

When I was with him on this particular night, it was like watching who I was. I was taking care of who used to be me. It's crazy to think that way, but it's true. When I was with him, I was not annoyed with him; I was more nurturing to him. I knew while I was with him that this would not work out. When intoxicated, he wants things I can not give him. The things he desires are more than what I can handle; they are dark requests. In my eyes, they are dark; they have the presence of evil. When I was with him in one of our encounters, I fought with the demons to continue or stop. In my mind, I wanted to stop. I was not comfortable with what he wanted me to do. Why I did the things he wanted me to do was like a pattern I was in in my last relationship. I am the kind of person who likes to please men. It is a terrible trait; when I was an alcoholic, I was worse. But since I am sober now, I recognize it better and take hold of it before it takes hold of me. This morning, I felt empowered that I stated what I stated in my text messages to him. Although, I am thankful he isn't the kind of guy who is narcissistic. He doesn't give that notion at all. This man is hurt by his past, and according to my observations, he likes to watch women degrade themselves to satisfy him due to the woman who hurt him in his marriage. He stated that his ex-wife hurt him, and I am guessing emotionally. I understand that it's terrible to be hurt by your former spouse. I don't think that they get along at all. I am not sure to what extent. The only thing I hope is that he eventually finds someone safe to help him heal. 

Having stated my observations of him, his situation is relatable to me. As I was in the past, I wanted men to hurt; I wanted to break their hearts because my ex-husband broke mine. The weird thing was when I was with him while he was getting drunk, I didn't feel the urge or the want to drink. I wanted to be sober for him. I wanted to be aware of what was happening; I suppose I was thinking of keeping myself and him safe. Sober-mindedness is so different than the intoxicated mind. I know this morning he is out like a light and hung over. I hope he is doing well, and I hope he rests well today. The night after is always the worst stage; I hope he will change how he is. My hope is that he will recognize what is actually happening to him and that he will seek out help. I also hope he does it for his kids, not anyone else. Alcohol is the worst when you've been through a challenging, hurtful event in life. It doesn't cure anything at all; it just makes it worse.

When I met this guy, he made me mad. I left angry at him, and he just kept reaching out to me to hang out. The same day I cussed him out, I thought that would do it, and I would never hear from him again. Nope. He continued to contact me; I met him a few times and was almost in love with him. However, I knew this would never work unless he was sober. Even then, it might not even work, either. I was attracted to him. I loved the attention that he gave me. I loved how he treated me during the first couple of meetings until it turned crappy. His eyes and his voice were the two things that drew me close to him. It's a remarkable thing how humans can be attracted to one another. The chemistry of it all, that is the thing about dating at my age, is our differences and compatibility. So the beginning was wonderful, except he wouldn't return the messages I left him. I started to feel the feelings of attachment and resentment, of almost jealousy feelings. I didn't want to feel the abandonment of him messaging other women. When I start to feel this way, I engage in other ways to avoid feeling this way. Getting on dating apps and meeting new men to take away the feeling of abandonment. This is when I met my Texan man. It was over two weeks of not hearing from him. So, I took it upon myself to go out and meet someone else. I was thankful that I did. However, being in this pattern, I was hesitant to be with this Texan man, not thinking he really wanted to be with me; I was with the other guy on one occasion. This was the last time I was going to be with him; it was his birthday, and he messaged me to spend some time with him on his day. I still had lingering feelings for him and thought I needed to get them out and get it over with. So I did what any stupid woman would do: I met him. Spent the day playing our stop-and-go game in broad daylight out on the county roads and being persuaded to drive topless for him. It was fun to spend the afternoon with him. He had some things to do at his place, so I left to go fishing, and he wanted me to return to him in the later evening. I wanted to, but he requested something dark from me. I told him, "No." I was uncomfortable with his request; he started drinking and asked me to do things that were so not me. I just could not do it. I don't want to do it. I was at my wit's end with him. I let him know that I was out; I didn't want to see him anymore. That was it for the time being, until last night and the night before, he texted me to be with him. I let him know that I was out. I didn't want to see him anymore. 

I look at what I am writing; it is a realization of who I am, who I was, and who I want to be. In my blog, I explain myself as real and true to others and to myself. Women can tell other women to be true to themselves and not give it away; be a WOMAN OF SUBSTANCE. Give me a break; not all women were created equal, and we were not created to be one way. Some of us struggle with sex, which I think we all struggle with. We fight tooth and nail to be good and perfect, but we can't. I struggle with many things; however, I realize that the last guy taught me that I am valuable. I finally realized this. It took me half a century to realize my worth! I suppose by placing myself in this brief relationship and mind you, we did have a relationship. It may not have been long-term, but we had an attachment. It was a valuable lesson that I am thankful for. I am thankful for this man, unfortunately, someone with a long road ahead of him, and I pray he stops drinking. He seeks counseling and becomes a better man for his children and himself. I hope the woman he meets will love him through all of it. That is my hope and prayer for him because he was a blessing in my life. This blog entry might ease the self-destruction of women who put themselves down because they are not perfect. Do not think that you are nothing, that your life isn't getting better when, in all actuality, it is. It is being perfected each day you wake up from your slumber. It just takes time to be who you were meant to be. 

Seasons Change and It's Lovely

I have so much on my mind right now. I am in the process of cleaning my yard. Then I have my exam that I must study for; my ADHD weighs heavy on my mind. I do one thing and then start another; it's so annoying. I need to have a huge billboard in front of me, a list of things to start with. I need a map to look at and direct me on my tasks in my yard, my life, and other things that I need to get done. Now, my allergies are bothering me! I can't get anything right and done. I just want to scream... sometimes, this is why I need a man, a partner, to help me get things done. I wasn't even good when I was married, either. There are some things in my area of life that I am working on. One thing that weighs heavy on my mind is that what if I meet my partner for life? Am I going to be a wonderful wife? Will I be capable of doing a wife's duty at home? I shouldn't worry about the future and how I would be if I were a wife again. Things that make you stop and question everything... Really crazy. I think it's a process for me to examine and generate a list to appease my mind. Lists, an accountability tool. It's what I always need. 

Today is when the air is crisp, and the weather is perfect. I love this time of the year. In my tribe, we are preparing for winter stories and shoe games. I have never practiced the season change to participate in the winter stories and shoe games. I watch the way they continue the culture in the way they do things in the winter. It seems they try to put in their community gatherings as much as possible at the end of the season. I love the way my tribe celebrates the change of seasons. It is always so eventful this time of the year. It is so beautiful at the end of summer, and everyone is rushing around to prepare things. Things like the Navajo Fairs and the huge parades that they have. Walking around the vendors and looking at their creations is so much fun. The food is amazing, and there are a lot of fresh veggies and food trucks. The food trucks usually have fry bread, mutton stew, mutton burgers, and reg Navajo burgers with green chilies. The green chilies are usually Hatch Green Chilies from the Hatch farms in New Mexico. Everything is perfect, full of heritage and pride for who we are. There are also tons of delectable breads from other tribes, Pueblo and Hopi. 

The fairs usually have nighttime activities; for kids and families, active carnivals go on into the night. Then there are the pow-wow dances; they have dancers that travel from all across the United States. It is so much fun to attend a pow-wow. The ceremonial events are active through the night as well. The Ye'ii Bi Cheii's are roaming the streets before and during the fair, collecting money in change to dollar bills. They offer discipline to give our children, and usually, the kids are terrified of them. If you ever saw a Ye'ii Bi Cheii, you would be uncomfortable, too. But it's fun to watch the kids get scared. They straighten up pretty quick, all for a dollar. 

I follow a Navajo Medicine Man on YouTube who teaches much about our culture. In this video I shared under the image, he explains the Ye'ii Bi Cheii. If you want, you can learn the teachings of what our culture is about. There are amazing things he mentions, and it is so informative. I love the Beauty Way, the Hozho Way, and the Blessing Way; this is part of our life. It's a brilliant teaching of what we are to do in our daily lives, to live peacefully and direct on our paths as we live. 

There is so much going on with my Reservation right now. Sometimes, I wish I could be there. Maybe I am thinking that I might go to the Shiprock Fair instead. I am very familiar with the way the schedule of events happens. I am debating at the moment whether or not I want to go. My friend from Texas (Who I have mentioned before) might be interested in going with me. I will need to ask him if he is interested in participating in this huge event with the Navajo Nation. He mentioned that he would like to learn and know more about our Navajo culture. I hope it works out; maybe I can attend the fair and get some mutton this year. I love mutton; the way they prepare the mutton, the stews they prepare, and the fry bread is nothing like mine. It is ten times better. 

All this talk about the change in season has got me hungry for mutton and fry bread. One of the things I am so proud to be and actually be blessed to be created is to be a Navajo woman. I love my culture, and I love the people. I am sure you can relate to being a part of a culture. I know some of us are not full-blood of a race. I also know that race is one thing that is a touchy issue. However, I do not care; I am a Navajo woman. I belong to a particular race of people and am proud of that, regardless of what Western society says about race and identity. Lastly, my yard is complete for the day, not perfect, but complete for now. 

The Secret Life I Have, Just Kidding...

There isn't anything great about my life, I often think does my life help others in their lives right now? Maybe, I kind of hope so at least. There are areas of my life that I like. Just recently I am very attracted to the Texan man who I am dating. He will soon be here in his temporary home, he has enjoyed his life back home where he belongs. Which is in Texas, Houston to be exact. I don't blame him, that is where his family and friends are. He is expected to arrive back in our area on Monday... I think. I am excited to see him, to spend some quality time with him, laughing, kissing, and just being handsy. I like that of him, he is not shy to take my hand and take me wherever. I didn't think that I would feel comfortable in my skin to allow such closeness. Maybe it's because he's from Texas, or maybe he is someone who I can relate to because he is a safety man in construction. It is very familiar to me. In any case, I am comfortable with the man. 

The last time we chit-chatted in his bedroom, we lay there just talking and reminiscing about the construction days. I told him what I used to do on the pipeline with my ex husband. It was a good conversation laying with his dog and playing fetch with her as she played in front of me. Anyway, there was a spark in my eyes, I was very intrigued by him, I couldn't believe I was with a safety man. We talked about welders, they're pretty snobby at times. I laugh at that because it's hilarious to know that we both feel the same about them. Is it bad that he reminds me of my ex-husband? The only thing different about him is that this man is sober, he is sober! He doesn't drink alcohol and he has a full head of hair. I am laughing out loud at the hair thing. I have to say, there is something about men from Texas, I kind of like them. The traits of such a man are really nice, I adore the way he moves his hands when he talks to me and then reaches over to me and pulls me close to him. It's very sexy. 

I love the way he can't stop kissing me on the lips, he likes to kiss me, and he is so sensual. I guess, I really missed the attention of a man who actually pays attention to me. If I am standing away from him, he gets me from behind and holds me. Just sweet, the first time I met him we kissed forever in the Starbucks parking lot, it was amazing. He picked me up and held me in the air like he was going to carry me away. It was a perfect night. I wanted to spend more time with him, but he had to leave and rest for the next day for work. The next day was text messages of, "Where do you want to meet? Pick a place, I don't care where it is." I have to admit there was a lot of pressure to pick a place. I did, this time it was at our local burger and brewery place in town. When I met him after he got off work he came up to me on Main Street and held me and kissed me. He called me baby, and darling. How Texan is that? We were flying off the seat of our pants that night, it was an amazing night. It was fun, he was so sweet, and every time we would leave each other, it was always, "Text me when you get home." When I go on dates, I never get that from men, "Text me when you get home." It took some time to remember to actually text him when I got home. He would gently remind me, "Did you make it home?" I would frantically text him, "Yes, I made it home baby." Now, I think I got the hang of it, I do let him know I am home safe. 

I am not sure how things will continue, but soon he will leave and I will be alone again. I can't imagine my life like that. Lately, these days are arriving quickly and sooner than yesterday. It goes by so fast that I am trying to keep my mind sharp by remembering the details of each day. Now, those days come and go, and I find myself just etching the memories into my brain to remember everything in the human body. To the structure of faces and the touch of a hand on my skin, the taste of a kiss, and the warmth of a long hug. I keep the picturesque of the eyes that pierce into my soul in my eyes when they meet each other. This week was tough to have those memories of a man close to me. But it is what it is, and life goes on. Well, there are always dating apps, I suppose after he leaves I will have to download the fifty and over dating apps. I think it's about time to face the music of fifty and over dating.