Posts tagged relationship

over a decade

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I wonder myself sometimes how everything that has happened has actually happened.  The thought of Candy leaving twice, and my going literally insane both times is such a weird set of memories to process.  I know that there are times that I still experience the anxiety I felt at that time out of the blue, with no additional stimulus required.  At the same time, when real shit is doing down in my life I tend to use another type of anxiety to motivate, inspire, and push myself into doing what needs to be done.

There are times I have had some pretty heavy duty shit going on, like having to pull a huge, heavy fuel tank off a big ass van to replace the fuel pump, or pull the dash apart to replace an automotive computer.  Those two things were just last year, and while I do consider myself a hobby mechanic, both of those jobs were things I had not done before, and I had to face a certain type of anxiety in order to successfully complete both of them, and still have working transportation that is paid for, and amazes me to this day that it is still going.

The biggest obstacles I have come across in my life never came anywhere near the level of intensity I felt when I lost Candy.  It was as if everything in my life before those events meant absolutely nothing.  All the accomplishments, all the hurdles overcome, all the disappointment, all the pain, none of it meant anything when I lost the one person in the world that I felt I loved more than anyone or anything else.

I literally wanted to drink myself to death.  I went online and I started to reject everything I held dear all of my life.  I started to become the absolute worst troll that even I had ever come across in the realm of ‘SSBBW’ or super size big beautiful women.  I would not lash out so much at individuals, except for a very small handful of people who were directly involved, because they cared enough to save Candy from me if I wasn’t making her happy.

I would go into every fat specific area of the internet I could find to bitch and raise hell about how I should not be attracted to women who look like this.  I should not be in such pain because I chose someone to love who would leave me.  I was lashing out partially because I was severely intoxicated most of the time, but also because I was hurt deeper than I had ever been hurt in my life.

I am still resolving feelings of guilt over how I acted.  I have apologized over and over to one person who was mature enough not to take any of it too personally in the first place.  I have wondered what must be going through the minds of people who Candy met and interacted with while she was gone, only to run back to me, after previous accusations of abuse.

We were in a destructive, abusive relationship for at least one or two years before the point where she left, but we didn’t realize it, because there were circumstances that Candy wasn’t fully aware of that triggered negative behavior in her.  When Candy and I met, we were both potheads.  She had what amounted to a near allergic reaction to alcoholics.  She had previous family history with alcoholics, and she herself feels as if she went through a period of alcoholism in her earlier years before we ever met.

When I made the brilliant decision to stop smoking pot and start drinking in it’s place, that created an environment where I would start drinking in the evening, and as I got more and more intoxicated, Candy would grow more and more anxious and upset.  If I were to talk a little too much, or about the wrong subjects while intoxicated, it would give her the reason she was looking for to just “go off” on me.  I had a great deal of restraint, after being through everything I have been through back in Florida with Alexis, so I would let it go.

There were just a few times when I would have gotten upset along with her for being upset, and I would allow an argument to escalate to a certain point.  Then, I would get tired out from being drunk and just want to quit arguing, usually before anything significant happened.

One evening, things did get really intense, and rather than cooling off and calming down, Candy made a snap decision to take off.  She wasn’t just leaving for a day, or a few days, she was packing a back to move out completely.  Because she had just done the same thing a few months before, I started to reach a point where I didn’t want her to come back.  I had been so hurt by her leaving the last time, and so excited when she came back, that watching her leave yet again would have me telling myself that I didn’t deserve that shit, I was over it, and I can’t be in love with someone who leaves me over little shit.

For the first few weeks she was gone, she had probably intended to come back all along.  Because I entered this mindset of believing I didn’t want her back, I would allow myself to get drunk and log on Facebook to rant and rave about how shitty it was for her to leave the way she did, and how she was “not a good girlfriend” if she was going to use this tactic of leaving me to control me.

At one point, maybe 2 and a half weeks in, I got so drunk that I posted some really horrible shit on Facebook, where instead of complaining, I started getting highly insulting.  At that point, any thought Candy had of coming back started to evaporate, and instead of getting her back sooner, I pushed her away for even longer.

After about 3 months of doing nothing but getting drunk every single day and passing out, I finally decided to get back out there and try to meet people.  The first attempt was this woman in her 20’s who I talked to on the phone.  She acted like she really wanted to meet right away, so she suggested I go to some bar to meet up with her.  She totally stood me up.  I tried calling her, no answer, of course, she knew what she was doing.

I will never forget the drive home from that place, how depressing it was, and how everything I passed on the way home reminded me of being with Candy.  I was reminded of how much I loved and missed her, and I was hurt so very deeply to have the first moment of encouragement turn out to be another taunt by life itself.

I didn’t try to contact that woman, but a few days later she sent me an email trying to apologize.  I basically cursed her out, told her how useless and pathetic she was for doing that to me, and I told her not to contact me anymore.  I also wrote out at least 3 pretty harsh jokes about her having only one hand.  I know that was totally uncalled for now, but it felt good at the time to do it.  She was writing me as if there was some big misunderstanding about the plans she had made with me.  She may have attempted to say she “chickened out”, but it didn’t matter.  She was already putting me in the position of meeting her “with friends”, which I absolutely hate doing.  Then, after agreeing to that really shitty scenario, she stood me up.

I stayed at that bar until around 1am, not because I had hope she would show up, but because I wanted to put myself through the misery of being someplace I didn’t want to be because some bitch lied me into going in the first place.  I wanted to absorb all of that negative emotion for as long as I could stand it, until I really wanted to go home and slam more vodka.

There was no giving up at that point though.  I had to meet someone.  Hanging out with old alcoholic guys was more depressing than being alone, and the more I was alone, the more time I had to act like a total dickhead on Facebook.  I believe a part of me hates Facebook to this day for giving me an outlet to make such an ass of myself.  I still get drunk and act stupid online, but I am not mean, depressed, and cruel to people.

When that woman stood me up on the very first date planned since Candy left, it reminded me of the long, hard road ahead in finding someone I am attracted to, who was available, who I could trust.  The person I was at that time would not allow me to find the “perfect woman for me” though, because I wasn’t myself.  I was lying to myself about not being in love with Candy and wanting her back, so I would naturally lie to myself about the kind of woman I would be truly happy with.

One woman was so physically awesome, and she agreed to model, and I still have yet to figure out what site I want to add her to.  It has been nearly 4 years since I took those photos, and I have yet to ever use any of them.  A part of me looks at that work as inferior because i was so very drunk most of the time.  Another part of me looks at that work and feels the pain I was in at that time.  Something has blocked me from using those photos, even though I have an ID, a model release, and she is physically amazing and impressive as a SSBBW.

unnamed ssbbw

unnamed ssbbw

It was awesome and amazing to meet someone so physically amazing and incredible.  I would have been instantly in love with her appearance with the hopes that her personality would not let me down.  She was unavailable though, of course.  She was available to mess around, but she was living in a situation that prevented any possibility of us being together.

This was another harsh reminder to me of the long hard road ahead in finding someone I could love like Candy.  The first woman to appear and actually come through and meet me would turn out to be someone that I would never have a chance of being with.  A woman who I could probably be content to be monogamous with for the rest of my life is just another fantasy.  Of course.

I didn’t give up though, I kept searching, and I reached another compromise.  There was one woman who was kind of aggressive online about wanting to meet up, but at the same time, she was a certain “type” that I was always hesitant to get involved with heavily.  I’ll just say it, she was a freaking “christian”.  She was eager to meet me though, and that seemed to be a rare occurrence for me in the online dating world, so I agreed to meet with her.

the christian bbw

the christian bbw

She was beautiful, and happened to remind me of someone from the distant past facially.  She had full, sexy arms, and DDD breasts, but she had kind of the typical “top heavy” figure, which has never been my total favorite.  Anyone who has seen images of Candy would realize quickly that her mass is more heavily distributed on the lower half.

Since as long as I can remember, there has been this thing about larger thighs.  In a previous post, I went into great detail about a theory that I have about being near sighted as a child and going years without wearing glasses.  I may have started to distinguish male from female by body shape more heavily than face, and because I had such an intense sexuality, I started to become attracted to larger and larger representations of visual femininity in the body.  I could recognize someone from a great distance before seeing their face by seeing their shape and even their walk.  I still do this, because I can recognize some people from a distance, looking at their back while they walk away.  I once picked out a woman I knew in a crowded mall on a Saturday from the second floor while she walked away on the first floor a great distance below and away from me.

Because of this, I have to admit even to myself that I developed a kind of “fetish” for large thighs.  I tried to overcome this, because I kept telling myself that I didn’t love Candy, I was no longer attracted to Candy, and I was not going to limit my potential sexual partners to women who are “Super sized” or super morbidly obese, who happen to have large thighs too.  That was too specific for my old, ugly, drunk ass.

I kind of settled, which is horrible, and I still feel guilt over how it hurt her when I had to tell her Candy was coming back.  I settled on her being religious, her being top heavy, and her being kind of distant and controlling herself.  It’s not like I wasn’t attracted to her, because at her size, with her shape, I could do things with her that I could not physically accomplish with Candy, ever.  She could literally ride me to the point where I was struggling to control climax.  Having those pendulous breasts swinging in my face while she gyrated on top of me was something that was kind of “new” to me, and it was literally amazing.

I know that sex is not the only thing that can keep a relationship together, and while I was still fixated on my preference for large thighs, I would end up cheating on the christian in order to see and photograph the unavailable ssbbw.  One time they actually passed each other in the parking lot because I was such a bastard.  I can’t believe that I was able to pull off that kind of timing while I was so hopelessly intoxicated most of the time.

By the time I started to “date” again, I did reduce the drinking a great deal.  I also got a job, which surprised even me at the time.  I didn’t just get a job, I got 2 offers and had to choose between them.  I also pulled that off just weeks before it would have bankrupted me to pay rent before getting the first paycheck.  My timing does seem pretty amazing, even when I am impaired.

I must have been dating the christian for a few months, because it really hurt her when I sat her down and told her that Candy was coming back to me.  I had to also admit that I had been talking to Candy behind her back, and that I loved Candy all along, even if I was trying to lie to myself about not loving her because she left me.

All of this seems to have wanted to come out of me today because it has been a few months since I had to hurt someone else emotionally, when Candy thought she wanted to leave and somehow we managed to work it out yet again.  I thought there was no way that I could have met someone that I would be so fond of while I was still living with Candy, even if she was planning to leave.  Maybe the fact that she didn’t just eject herself much faster gave me some kind of ability to find and meet exactly the kind of woman I would want to be with after she was gone.

That hurt me this time.  I had a few months to get to know someone who is physically amazing and complex intellectually.  Because Candy was leaving yet again, I was giving myself an opportunity to find the near perfect woman while Candy was still with me.  Of course, the second I find one that seemed to be really compatible, and have real potential, it would be ripped away from me because I cannot resist the loyalty of my love for Candy, and she changed her mind yet again.

Being with Candy for over a decade, I have been through more emotional turmoil than ever in my life.  That is saying a lot, since I lost my very first SSBBW porn site in a divorce when I left Lexi in Florida.  I was so young and foolish and impulsive, and even way back then, I had a level of maturity to realize that I had to leave that situation or I was going to end up getting in more and more trouble over time.

I have managed to resolve a lot of my feelings about Alexis, and what I went through in Florida, but it still impresses me that I was able to walk away from “my baby”.  i cared more about that first website, fatfantasy.net, than I ever cared about Alexis, and that’s exactly why it had to be given up, to save myself.

me and alexis so long ago

me and alexis so long ago

Now I have to deal with unresolved feelings from when I was a total dickweed on Facebook while Candy was gone both times.  I have to deal with the guilt of how I treated all the people involved who were just trying to help Candy, and they didn’t even love her the way I do.  I still have issues with getting intense and typing too much in a place I shouldn’t be while I am somewhat intoxicated, but nothing reaches the level of pure crazy that I dove into while Candy was gone both times.

I had to break someone’s heart because I could not choose them over Candy.  Not just because of the time I have known her, but because the intense level of emotion that has developed over that time.  Now I have to deal with that too.  I’m getting better, not letting myself get as drunk as I used to.  I try harder to resist the temptation to log on to social media when I pass a certain level of intoxication, but sometimes it is just too tempting, and too satisfying.

Writing while intoxicated is something that I picked up as a kind of coping mechanism to deal with the loss and pain of Candy leaving both of those times.  For a period of maybe a year or so since being in Vegas, Candy’s decisions kept me in a kind of emotional stasis where I had to go back to those habits to deal with what I was feeling at the time.

It’s amazing, that Candy and I were falling apart because we were staying in different rooms during the day, and the little interaction she got with me was when I would bust into the bedroom ranting about something on the news or something I saw online.  I failed to see how just being apart from each other, even in the same residence, was slowly destroying our relationship.  It would seem so obvious to anyone on the outside, but I was blinded by my bias, my emotions, and my past experiences.

I’m getting better, I’m writing this on day 6 without a cigarette, or I should say a real cigarette.  I’m still using nicotine replacement, with the nicotine patches and an e-cig, only for use when cravings reach a level of intensity that make me want to give up and buy a pack of cigarettes.  I’m limiting myself to a 12 pack of beer over a 2 day period, trying to give myself a break for a day or 2 between 12 packs.  If I drink more than 6 beers in one day, I am limiting my future intake the next day, and I won’t let myself buy more.

I still get loaded and type, but now my mood is so different.  I’m dealing with a lot of shit, and a lot of unresolved feelings, but I feel as if I am slowly stumbling out of some kind of haze that I have been living in for the past 3 to 4 years.  It’s not just the alcohol, it’s the experience of how different I am and felt before I started drinking to begin with.   It’s not like I am a life long alcoholic, I just started using it seriously after 40, and I’m 46 now.  I used to hate alcohol because I knew it was put in place as a sedative to get people to stop doing ALL OTHER DRUGS, which is pure and total bullshit.

I’m not just for marijuana legalization, I believe that all kinds of psychedelics should be legal too, because humans were given this huge brain to use in ways that our current proper and prudish society are literally SCARED TO USE.  After reading authors like Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert, I realize that there is great potential and discovery in using these drugs to stimulate parts of the brain that were probably created because humans were doing that shit millions of years ago to begin with!  Of course, if you are a hardcore christian, you might believe there is no way this planet can be that old.  That’s why I can’t get along with christians.

I have read studies about using LSD to cure alcoholism, and there are times I have to wonder if I inflicted that horrible disease on myself just to figure out how to cure myself later.  I compare that theory to the way that I suspect some plus sized models have a goal point to reach before they get weight loss surgery and start the process all over again.

I have a lot of crazy theories, and none of the education required to truly experiment with them.  My most intense theories are the ones I have about how one develops a fat fetish to begin with.  That thing about body recognition and a need for a super feminine form is a pretty good one.

Ok, now I’m rambling, and going off course.  This post should have ended when I used the term “over a decade” out of respect to the title. 🙂

 

 

complexity

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I wanted to write, the last post being created from a perspective that had not yet completed a specific objective which required multiple prerequisites.  The stress of that upcoming change, decision, or action caused ripples in the time before it, extending months.  The planning that had gone into it was set into motion years before that.

I signed in, signed up, and shopped for my plan.  The plan would be free, but I didn’t quite know it at the moment before taking the actions.  I had employed some type of psychic accounting in order to prevent liability, but I had taken it to such an extreme and I probably did not need to.

A moment here or there, sober or intoxicated, taking a peek at subsidy calculators and the current table of poverty guidelines issued by the same people that think one can live on 700 a month.  I could have worked it out much more skillfully, but some frantic, manic, procrastinating, lazy fool chose to take over for a bit instead.

I still haven’t done the research, but a part of me even chose a specific number as an income target.  It wasn’t very well thought out, except some simple math showed that I would have to make one amount in order to maintain bills, maybe save a little, and still have the reserve capacity to make big payments in order to sustain a business model that even I believe is unsustainable.

It takes money to make money.  Even if I had a crazy plan to make as little as possible and still keep everything going as if nothing was wrong, there would still be times when I know I would have to come up with 500, 750, maybe even a cool grand at different points in the future.  As it stands, there are only two main expenses to my entire business model.  Hosting and payment processing.

Without having to file a thousand little receipts I can just pop out those two and the rest is small change.  I just don’t spend money.  On very much at all.  Ever.  Sure, a few bad habits have somehow slipped through the cracks.  Cheap cigarettes in the hopes I’ll quit, cheap beer because I don’t drink it for the taste.  A 22 year old vehicle that I somehow prevent from completely disintegrating before my eyes, and a body that insists on working without intervention from a cruel and malevolent medical complex.

I don’t spend money with some ignorant assumption that I’ll just “write it off”, because when the predicted income level is below a certain point, there is not going to be very much cash to throw around in the hopes of “writing it off”.  In other words, if you know you aren’t going to make a specific amount by purchasing any product from the use of that product, the purchase isn’t a write off, it’s a loss.

Maybe my past experience of getting burned in Orlando by that mystical creature Alexis did more help than harm in the long count calendar after all.  I mistakenly trusted her to access my credit, thus destroying my credit for that 7 year waiting period for everything to just disappear from the credit report.  During those 7 years, one can become quite disciplined in not depending on other people’s money to maintain regular expenses or splurge on what I like to call “stupid shit”.

All those years of avoiding collection efforts, waiting for time to pass, and finding rental accommodations that did not depend on excellent credit really taught me some valuable lessons.  To this day, I couldn’t get unsecured credit if I tried, and I have made it that way on purpose.  I didn’t use any identity protection “service”, I simply made sure that while my score is actually considered “good”, I do not meet at least one of the criteria for being easily granted credit.  I also monitor it myself with an alternate service that is free, except of course for all the ads that are actually paying for it.

There was a built in incentive to be super cheap when you know that the money you have stashed is all you can depend on, and there will be no “safety net” because the credit done run dry and the parents are dead, well, one of them.  It provides quite an incentive to view money as “time” instead of seeing it as all the shit you have been told you need on television.

When I went through my last severe depression, I was prepared to release all possessions and live on the street for a while, just as an experiment.  I was impressed and disappointed with myself at the same time as I got the job that prevented homelessness at the last minute.  I was impressed because I didn’t think I could really pull it off, but I was disappointed because by getting that job, I was abandoning my “plan B”.  I didn’t have the balls to be homeless.

I was too selfish to let go of everything I had created and maintained online, even though, being homeless didn’t mean being “host-less”.  I could still have existed comfortably on the digital plane even as I was sleeping in a 20 year old van.  Hosting is just over $50 a month, rent was $450.  I was ready to trade down and allow my physical self to exist in limbo in order to maintain my digital presence for as long as possible.  I didn’t have the balls to go through with it.  Getting a job, making some cash the old fashioned way, was actually easier for me than just being a lazy fuck and panhandling until I got disability.

It didn’t help that shortly after Candy’s first departure, I made a friend in a guy named Mark.  He was 59, and he had been homeless for about a year after coming to Baton Rouge from Chicago.  I met him the day after he moved in to an apartment upstairs, just after getting his back payment from social security.  This was probably in the second week after Candy left.  I would need to review the video footage to make sure, but I don’t think I started making little videos with him until after a month.

He was very abrasive, demanding, insulting, intolerant, somewhat racist, homophobic, unpredictable, unstable, alcoholic, and addicted to Tramadol.  He was a real Archie Bunker type, but add the severe alcoholism and drug abuse.  I was at a very low point, and I don’t think he saw me for more than an hour of any day sober.  The times he would see me sober were when he nagged at me to drive him somewhere after waking me up by phone or knock on the door to wake me up before I could start pounding vodka.  Even then, I had to constantly resist the urge to down beers with him that I told him not to open before we would even return “home”.

He shared quite a bit of information about exactly how to “be homeless”, survive, even thrive.  The information was geographically specific because he had spent the prior year learning these things right in my own backyard.  If I saw him on the street at some point before really meeting him, which I very well could have, I would have refused to acknowledge him, while being aware of his presence just in case he pulled some shit on me.  I have a sneaky suspicion that I had seen him too, because he was familiar, and I would have faded memories of those times when I ran some errand and had to avoid “those people”.

Even with his encouragement, and offer of limited support in this venture, I couldn’t go through with it.  The alternative was to cut my hair, shave, bathe for once, and wait to start drinking until AFTER I went to at least 3 places in person to drop off a resume and fill out an application, if they even fucking let me.  Instead of basing my search at the time on typical want ads, I created ever widening spheres of physical distance I would have to travel for each “zone” where I applied.  The closest places weren’t interested at all, but things started looking up when I hit about 3 miles out…

That decision changed a whole lot of future shit.  It changed where I live right now, how much cash I have, what computer I’m using, if I still owned that van, and in a way, it has changed who I actually am, “right now”.  This changes over time, I know, but that was one of those pivotal moments when I had a distinct choice about how to proceed, and the choice I made led to a future that I am more than satisfied with.

My decision to occasionally rant and rave about this and that over the course of the last six months may have been an indirect effect of the pressure and stress brought about by my fear of missing another mark.  Doing it all wrong.  My occasional visit with my sometimes evil, insensitive, alcohol induced alter ego hasn’t helped very much.  I was in such a panic over having to pay some crazy new monthly bill, that I somehow created a plan that I don’t think I allowed myself to be fully aware of at the time.

I picked a number, and I was so very amazed to see that it was less than $100 off from what I was “hoping for”.  I know that the number itself would not inspire very much celebration to a lot of people, because it is a very low number.  I am astounded that I am able to maintain the reserve that I have while working at such a low margin for almost an entire year.  I know I was sabotaging myself here and there when it came to making money.  I could have encouraged someone to get off their *ss and help me out a little more often.  I could have taken the massive reserve of unused content and add it to two websites that have not been updated in over two years now.

I didn’t do any of that though.  I got lazy.  I wonder even now just how much of it was intentional, and how much of it was following along with a plan that I created when I was too intoxicated to even remember it on a conscious level.  I never even bothered to do more research to find a much more exact number, or even a slightly higher number that would have still created the same result.  Full subsidized healthcare.

I may have created all of this knowing that as a regular earner of one amount, I will be penalized by a lack of subsidies in such a way that would probably not seem fair or proportionate to whatever financial pain I may perceive as an individual who has lived, saved, and been very comfortable with an income level considered “%100 poverty”.   I haven’t really worked out the math, but a part of me glanced over at the federal table of poverty level income at one point and I realized that I might not have gotten much of a subsidy at all if I had made as little as 5K more that same year.  In fact, my worry was that making one dollar more than some cut off amount would lead to me making one higher amount, and then being forced to pay out so much over the course of a year that I still end up at poverty level income anyway.

If I have to just give it all to them, why even try to make more than a certain amount?  It was difficult to even try writing that out without using specific numbers in an example, because I didn’t do the fucking math myself.  I just kind of guessed that there would be some kind of steep cut off for subsidies way too low to be realistic or reasonable.  So, I went for a target income, when considering expenses, would end up at a point where I do not exceed the federal standard for %100 poverty level by more than 1K.

That was a crazy sounding plan, I know, it seems crazy as I type it.  It was convenient that I worked that one full time job the year before last, and I noticed, that without the W-2 from that job, the desired target income was not that much more.  It seems even more crazy to me that I would have a serious anxiety about making “too much” money.  I should have been adding it up with each statement all through the year, but I was just making general estimations based on quick glances at deposits.

Now, I’m “here”.  I enrolled by the deadline.  I almost didn’t, because the state exchange that I used was going bat shit crazy on sunday night, and I just kind of gave up because I knew monday was the deadline.  I am talking about a state exchange, not the feds.  The feds site is such a piece of shit that they keep extending the deadline for them…  Nope, my state has an exchange, and the site almost fucked me over because I had to do this big complex application, but the site shit out before I could put my “free” medicaid plan into some arbitrary fucking shopping cart.  That shopping cart shit almost fucked me out of enrolling in time, which would have cost me an additional $95 as a “mandate tax”.

I was lucky that I felt compelled to “double check” and go back to the site on the day of the actual deadline, because while the site did say I had “enrolled”, it still forced me to do the shopping cart step, threatening me with potential non enrollment, even though I “digitally signed” this big ass document that took at least 20 minutes to fucking fill out.  I came up with the term “entrolled”, because I thought I was enrolled but because that shit is already more fucking complex than taxes, it is almost impossible sometimes to know for sure.

I shouldn’t complain, but it was stressful.  It fucked up this whole tax season procrastination thing I had going.  I would have made estimated payments through the year based on estimations, but I never knew just how close my fucking estimation would be to what I ended up with.  I didn’t know until I was forced to do all the fucking work of filing my taxes without actually filling out the fucking web form…

I would have procrastinated to do all that shit until at least march, but now I have already been forced to do it, I have all the numbers, and as long as I don’t have a deposit or buy any business related shit, I was ready to do fucking taxes before fucking christmas.  That is fucking bogus.  Oh well, it’s done.  I was also super thorough and honest in giving my future psychic prediction of exactly to the penny what I will be making in 2014 too.

I have always thought it was amazing that psychic accounting will soon become a regular term in our vocabulary, because according to the form I filled out at the state exchange I used, I have to honestly predict my income for next year under threat of fraud and perjury.  It’s bad enough I had to do my fucking taxes before christmas, now the assholes are going to threaten me to psychically call to the dead and ask exactly how much my fat porn is going to make next fucking year.

Wow, mood change there!  I can bitch and complain about having to figure out taxes to the penny months early, but it is a genuine “first world problem” isn’t it?  I mean, the alternate me, on a timeline where I never got that job, would probably not be too worried about being hit up for a mandate tax that he would not have to pay because he would not have an income to pay taxes on.  Although, I am curious about the details of that potential alternate reality, like, would I still be liable for a mandate tax even though I did not meet the minimum filing threshold of income.  Maybe I didn’t do more research on that detail because I didn’t really want to know, or I just don’t give a fuck because it is so detached from the future that ended up taking place.

Either way, here we are.  I am not homeless, and I somehow tricked Candy into coming back willingly. 🙂  I have endured the year 2013 with a local move, and the first year payment to process visa on the websites.  That was a lump payment of 750 right there.  It does take money to make money indeed.  All the while, I was making less than $1000 over what my government declares %100 poverty level.  I keep typing that phrase out, because after enduring the alleged hardship of making that income, I still have money in the bank.  Am I “poor” because of my income alone when I am still “comfortable” and actually have “savings”?

In fact, I seem to have everything I want and need, and the only pressing things I still really want are not going to cost any money.  If one of my final goals is to get a specific certification, it is up to me to make it happen.  Money is not an obstacle to education because I would find a cheap way to have someone else pay for it without going into debt.  If I want to gain yet another type of certification that I don’t want to get into, there are very defined steps for me to obtain that “license”, and because of the very thing I have been complaining about, I may now start a process that will not even cost anything.  I will finally have a “doctor”.  That could be scary, because Mark taught me some stuff about handling medicaid doctors too… 🙂

This latest experiment in living just over poverty level has been educational, not only in showing me that I could do it, but also in changing my perception of poverty in general.  It is ironic that I chose to sit down and write on christmas day itself, a day which represents a loop of disappointment, resulting charity, disappointment, repeat.  As a I phase out and watch local news, a part of me would be involuntarily touched for a moment by the generous act of a charity group handing out toys to poor children.

After a moment, I would realize, that I was just afflicted on a subconscious level by a phenomenon that has been created as a direct result of corporate capitalism and blind consumerism.  In other words, if christmas did not exist to begin with, poor children would not be denied that specific positive event, created to raise the bottom line of retailers across the board.  There is a desire, as a human, to allow myself to just flow with this feeling of charitable propaganda, because I want to feel for the children, to see them happy.  The logical side of my reasoning has to ruin the party though, because I am quickly reminded that this entire system has been created out of a new type of greed and sophisticated marketing and propaganda.

I don’t need all the shit on television, I don’t need this or that specific thing, I have not created a ritual involving this or that over priced “treat”.  I have a very short list of very specific things that I would choose to have in my life, but I would let go of those things with little bitterness if my hand was forced and shit got out of control.  For example, there does exist a price point where I would say “fuck this, I quit smoking!”  While it seems like beer is going up and up, I am fortunate that my prior experimentation has not left me physically dependent, so even if I still enjoy psychological exploration of my intoxicated alter ego, it is not a daily habit, and a habit that can be scaled back to such infrequency that I would begin to miss it altogether, if all the assholes that sold beer passed some price point that I am not quite sure about this second.

The only thing I can’t do without is a person, and I lost her before, over and over.  There is no amount of money that could keep her, or lose her.  There is only my bad choices that could lose her.  I am lucky that one of the only bad choices I have even been tempted by was alcohol, and I am very fortunate that she was able to make a compromise to allow occasional use of a lesser source of this chemical.  Trade down from vodka to beer, and attempt to restrict intake to a point that leaves me much less intoxicated than I used to get on vodka.  Every once in a while, there is a breach in my own security, and a part of my own self attempt so live dangerously and push my limits.  Both with myself, and with her.

I know it is wrong, I know I don’t need it.  I know I would always choose her over it.  I guess that is where the term “guilty pleasure” comes from.  There is a part of me that argues “I’m a grown man, if I want to get really fucked up on some ice beer now and then just cut me some slack!”.  It is not that simple though, not nearly.  It never is.  Compromise is a very delicate and complex thing.  Both sides have to give.  I am grateful she has bent to the degree that she has, and while there has been one dented wall incident from a thrown mug (not at me thank god), she has shown remarkable restraint when I have chosen to take my ice beer intake one can over the line.

I can’t make excuses, I can’t even really talk to her about it, because it makes her too uncomfortable.  I have to assume that I am “alcoholic”, even if I don’t feel like I am.  Even if I don’t crave alcohol intoxication every day, or every other day, or I let it slip for 3 or 4 days so my resistance is super low, I still seem to thoroughly enjoy the initial intoxication, and once afflicted, I am driven to push further and further.  I think that is called “binge drinking”, but it is nowhere near as severe as my little relationship with vodka was.

I still “use and abuse” alcohol, like some kind of explicit street drug.  I deny myself for days, sometimes really just “forgetting to drink”, sometimes getting it while out, knowing that I won’t be running errands for nearly a week and I want to take a little trip to fuzzy reality land just once before I have to go out again.  I can’t purchase a “30 pack” because at some point I might allow myself to consume more than 12.  If I get a 12 pack, I have to put 6 in the cooler and give Candy the other 6, or I will most probably get up to 10, maybe opening number 11 but not being able to finish it, leaving a sorry sight of 1.5 beer total the day after I got a fucking 12 pack.  I could have gotten loaded twice, but instead, 5 beer me said “fuck that shit I want to get fucked up!”

It is hard to figure all this shit out at times, if it’s not one thing it’s another.  I felt like writing for a bit, and I came up with the title complexity before I knew for sure i wanted to write about.  I didn’t even get into some stuff I was thinking about when I first started, like trying harder to apologize for all my ranting and raving about weight loss surgery.  I thought that subject was limited to drunk me being stupid, but it appears that frustrated sober me before mandate compliance was using distraction and misdirection yet again.

If I seem so skilled at tricking myself into this or that behavior, I have come to another theory, about how I may be able to re-align my thinking and goal orientation in such a way where I actually “forget to drink”, or even better, procrastinate from drinking.  That’s a thought.  I was using alcohol while I was committing the act of procrastination, but maybe, I can turn some shit around so that I am literally too busy with some other shit I would rather be doing to be tempted to take a trip to that place where I hang out with a part of myself that I hate but am fascinated with at the same time.

I wondered myself why I would feel compelled to hyper post all over facebook when intoxicated on alcohol.  I would ask myself “who am I talking to?”  I think I might kind of be talking to myself there.  I have reached some point where I only get loaded about twice a week, the second time is not as severe as the first because I am still dreading the last time.  This last time I did it, I noticed something about it that was already turning into a habit, a game that I was playing with myself that I wasn’t fully aware of as I was doing it.

Within 2 days after one of these binges and facebook rants, I would slowly begin to remember things that I would have typed, as well as music and news articles I may have posted.  If I posted photos, those will come back to me later too.  One of the reasons I avoid facebook after a drunken rant session could be related to this fuzzy memory game I have been playing that I didn’t “remember”.   When I use terms like distraction, misdirection, and even regression I might be minimizing the actual phenomenon.

What started out as using alcohol for escapism and avoiding reality has definitely evolved into something else.  It is still not habit, it’s not every day, I don’t consume alternate substances not meant for consumption that contain alcohol, and if there was just one beer in the fridge it would not be appealing to me in the least unless I went out and picked up a sufficient amount to “peak”.

It is kind of ironic, that I will take on the responsibility of having a problem with alcohol, but at the same time, I am forced to reconcile with the fact that occasional alcohol intoxication would be acceptable, if it was mild and I didn’t have to push it to the point where I am starting to have trouble walking and typing.  Even worse, it would not be so bad if there were not a part of myself that has a limit, but it is a very very high limit.  I noticed that I stopped taking diphenhydramine to enhance alcohol altogether, because I literally can’t type at a much lower level of alcohol consumption.

I realize that this problem would not even be as “bad” or unacceptable if it wasn’t compounded by the past trauma and experience of my partner, who resents that fact that she can’t keep multiple forms of alcohol to make cocktails with because I might raid it.  She is ok with alcohol consumption, but not alcohol binging.  That is very ironic, because she occasionally enjoys a food binge.  We have had to fight against co-enabling by making very distinct compromises.  The complexity of love… 🙂

I am running out of steam, I don’t know how or why I got over 4500 words, but hey, I won’t be drinking.  Not tonight. 🙂

 

reality orientation

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This ‘character’ obesiverse had manifested itself within the minds of a few people, to the extent of being called upon to hopefully provide some degree of entertainment and information in recent social interaction.   I think it’s ‘cool’ in a way, but at the same time, I face an irony in the way that I made some small attempt to partially destroy the character by removing so much ‘stuff’ from this thing recently.

ronald mcdonald gets busted for weed

ronald mcdonald gets busted for weed

There has been yet another shift in my thinking, major only to me, and the change to this blog was only a small surreal gesture in a much larger attempt to be more positive, a little more social, more aware and respectful of other people’s feelings, more aware of ‘self’, and of course, much more aware of the emotional state of the one person on this planet that has inspired what I believe is ‘growth’ in me.

Projected prevalence of obesity in adults by 2025

Projected prevalence of obesity in adults by 2025

I am not always able to observe things that are obvious to some people, and at the same time, I can sometimes see things that others will purposely block out in order to enjoy the moment, or maintain a status quo.  I know that in the past I would rant and rave about the right to exist at any size, and how society should chill out about the obesity issue, because it is internal and personal, and there is no way to shame or bully anyone into making positive change in their life.

jesus vs gates

jesus vs gates

Before moving to Vegas, maybe around the time that I started writing this thing, I believe I was having some real issues myself.  This would be obvious to anyone who witnessed my bad behavior in the time that Candy and I were separated  and it could be even more obvious in the way that Candy and I get along so good now, even though we did spend nearly a year apart over a two year period.

big feast, big belly

big feast, big belly

When Candy came back the last time, my decision to drop hard alcohol was a major factor.  While it would be easy to assume alcohol was the main problem in the relationship, it actually wasn’t.  It was a mere symptom, which was being used on my side improperly, and interpreted from her side with an extreme bias based on her past.  Alcohol appeared to be a ‘central issue’, but in reality, it wasn’t.  The main issue was the mere realization on both sides of how it would contribute to the much larger relationship areas of communication and mutual understanding.  I would be forced to compromise ‘the ego’ at times in order to retain balance and try to reinforce a positive atmosphere. If I didn’t have that ability, I didn’t have the right to assume I could change myself, or participate in another human’s efforts to change themselves.  I needed to take responsibility, and it’s weird the way it works out in time itself.

international no diet day

international no diet day

I was being immature, disrespectful, and blind to Candy’s feelings about alcohol, and I used it more regularly than I had to because of some stubborn need to ‘get what I want’ at the cost of causing her emotional discomfort.  As I write it out, it seems almost too simple to me, and I wish I could have reached this current frame of mind a lot sooner than I did.  If I had the ability to explore Candy’s emotional landscape with more efficiency and consideration, I could have gone the past two years without seeing Candy leave at all, much less twice.

"the spice" just like Dune! whoa.

“the spice” just like Dune

Even as I bring that up, I’m forced to reconcile my own temporary emotional downturn in trying to be more ‘acceptable’ and remove all legal liability by switching over from regular use of weed to alcohol…  Addiction transfer was all too easy for me, but the worst mistake I ever attempted in my life.  That one even outweighs the entire Florida thing, by far, because I have long tried to take responsibility in all of that too.

ssbbw candy godiva buffet style

ssbbw candy godiva buffet style

Way back, when I walked away and left all of it behind, I didn’t realize that it would be a way for me to stop fighting and stop denying the ways in which I was wrong, or misrepresented myself, or agreed to things that I was in no way ready to handle.  I’ll even go further and mention that all of my prior ranting about Alexis fails to take into account my own inability to recognize her specific needs at the time.  By leaving it behind, I think I was giving it all to her because as hard as it was, and as angry as I was at her, I was the one fucking up because of the way I behaved.  I was in those crazy early 30’s… Oh time is cruel.

metairie hurricane katrina

metairie hurricane katrina

As I hung out at a small gathering that I was privileged to be a part of, Candy would get to enjoy several small yet incredibly meaningful exchanges, and I did as well.  It was uplifting and inspirational to hear one woman’s story, and I can appreciate the amazing parallels that were brought up.  I am also grateful for the opportunity to see who ever would have happened to drop by the room ‘brother B’ was hanging out in for several hours on that afternoon and evening.

"complete hitch includes" ball mount, pin, and clip, uhaul says no!

“complete hitch includes” ball mount, pin, and clip, never got it anyway

The fact that such special circumstances had to occur to get Candy out of the apartment was amazing.  Considering how it has been difficult for her to maintain an aggressive pursuit of mere residency and medical requirements, I was glad to see her finally get out of the house to see a different group of people besides myself!  While I would easily get greedy for some kind of regular interaction on that level, it’s still more than Candy can handle currently, and I am feeling the pressure of not taking care of business and pushing harder myself for her to get paperwork straightened out and doctors already lined up.

trailer hitch mounting instructions from uhaul part one

trailer hitch mounting instructions from uhaul part one

It’s not like ‘super morbid obesity’ on it’s own is destroying Candy physically as much as a few very specific conditions, and it’s a kick to the ass to imagine that one hormone condition actually contributes in some way to her size as well.  Such a fucked up, misunderstood thing, even by me, or especially by me.  I could have pushed harder, and should have, as much as Candy might have objected or pushed back when it came to getting her back at that freaking DMV to get the ID.  Since before even moving here, Candy has been my first priority, and it was her choices and decisions that brought us both to where we are right now.  Sometimes I need to recognize when she is not making choices that are good for her and I need to step in, even as I try to have respect, understanding, and support for her limitations and boundaries.

ssbbw long story

ssbbw long story

Getting the ID was such a small first step.  Finding the right primary physician, even if she might decide to move to another state yet again eventually, is vital at this point.  The ID was just a small part of a bigger process that has gone months undone, and it’s horrible for me to remember how I complained about someone else not encouraging Candy harder in the past.

las vegas weekly and a map, vegas survival guide

las vegas weekly and a map, vegas survival guide

My awkward attempts to get Candy out of the house in some social context was almost an exercise in denial myself.  If it was so difficult for her to get to one government office, it was not going to be physically easy to do something as simple as ‘go to a bar’.  It was difficult for me to put it into context, because so many other people do it, but I am made aware of a new urgency to take care of business and get simple paperwork issues under control.  I always told Candy from ten year ago that letting shit slide will bust your balls later.  That’s why I’m eager to do my full audit, and I’m amazed at this very procrastination of thought organization as I let Candy sleep off a physical soreness that I know I can’t fully understand or appreciate.

Venus-of-Schelklingen name given, but photo in hohle fels specimen on wiki

Venus-of-Schelklingen name given, but photo in hohle fels specimen on wiki

I want to be diurnal!  Not really.  Oh, it’s unacceptable, I have let myself go and could be huge myself.  But, the drive isn’t there, the ‘hunger’ isn’t there.  I can selfishly over-indulge in a wide assortment of different legitimately prescribed pharma based products, over the counter antihistamines, cannabinoid receptor agonist analogs otherwise known as ‘spice’, and then say ‘ok a little alcohol’.  Probably ten years ago and then several years after that, I obtained and maintained a prescription for viagra, and I laugh at the irony that I never would have to use it with Candy. 🙂  I had recreational interests that involved being lucky enough to repeatedly end up in situations where I was filming myself with people who knew full well I was doing it and even signed a release! 🙂  Oh the time does fly… 🙂

peta hates fat people

peta hates fat people ? 🙂

I haven’t gone to the effort, but I found a small shop next to the post office that even has the whipped cream dispensers with nitrous oxide canisters that can make home made whipped cream and also make you really high for about 30 seconds.  It’s fun, been there done that, really a nice trip occasionally, but still very limited.  All of that fond talk about my own draw towards intoxication are related to it being the last great frontier of personal growth and development.  By not spending as much time ‘experimenting’, I can actually be more productive in this reality, where people have to do things like renew their ID, go to doctors, and make sure that the essentials are maintained by actually being productive. 🙂

close up of my sexy amazon trailer hitch

close up of my hitch

A little thing like my effort to draw Candy out, and then the get together at a hotel where a bbw party was going on, were extremely educational to me in terms of recognizing Candy’s limitations, and the urgency in taking care of business so that I can further hope to inspire a greater degree of seriousness when it comes to getting her weight under control first, and then going downward without great effort or psychological turmoil.   The last few issues I have with self control can be put into context better by watching how it could be effecting her.  I could fear for a moment that the last break up was even a subconscious attempt to drive her away because I felt that I was a bad influence because of enabling or whatever.

peep pizza! ripped from topcultured, hope they don't mind! :)

food porn at it’s finest

I ended up hanging out with a real ball buster for a while when Candy was gone last time, and I thought about it, how one lazy or crazy person needs another highly responsible, stable person right there to pick up the slack.  I know that Candy would not be offended if I refer to her as the ‘crazy one’ now and I have to be the one who is stable, in control, and able to not only handle assisting Candy in taking care of her business, but pushing and encouraging it.  Again, within certain limitations.

msbootay world of warcraft

what?  no. No! 🙂

All this thought coming from the fact that I realized Candy was ok in a hotel room hanging out with people, but even that had it’s limitations.  The realization that I had to help Candy out in the bathroom with just getting undressed because of what she was wearing was a big wake up for me.  The fact that she was nervous about even going and wanted to get up early to make sure she would not be late because of how long it would take her to ‘get her ass in gear’ should be another wake up.

synthetic weed what is in this shit? one molecule off? whoa...

synthetic weed what is in this shit? one molecule off? whoa…

I can’t let my own selfish desires to maintain a physical social connection to the real world overshadow the importance of helping Candy to finish urgent paperwork.  I don’t have the same motivations and inspirations that some might, because I am still so amazed to have Candy back that I can’t begin to imagine what it would even feel like to be tempted physically by another female. 🙂  At the same time, it’s amazing and intriguing to have opportunities to talk with people besides Candy, and I’m sure she feels even more strongly about having opportunities to talk to people besides me! 🙂

if u build it...

random furniture assembly

I am almost compelled to write a note to one woman who suggested coming out to one bar party, because I wanted to make her aware that I wasn’t thinking of Candy’s limitations before I suggested going or asked her about going to that get together.  It’s like, I made a small comment somewhere buried in the party page, and the mere potential created a whole new perspective for me.

my favorite big assed headless fatty in media

my favorite big assed headless fatty in media

It would end up being somewhat ‘creepy’ and not make any sense to her for me to thank her for the suggestion, because it brought about further thought in myself, and prepared me for supporting Candy in a much more neutral and ‘smaller’ environment.  In turn, that smaller get together made me even further aware of why Candy is having a difficult time and I need to help her get back on track to regular doctor visits to maybe finally help those few specific things that make her already difficult physical size even harder on her, especially in social environments.

 

It’s going to take some work to get Candy’s health better sorted out before I imagine or think of doing things like that.  It might be of interest to us, and it might even be good for her, but right now, I have to listen to her when she occasionally breaks down because she remembers what it was like to be able to physically participate more and she really wants to go, but feels self conscious now because of those limitations.

Maybe there are times I miss being ‘out there’ as I was so regularly in the past.  Being in Vegas provides constant temptation out there, always something going on in each and every single sub culture you can possibly imagine.  I didn’t come here for all of that though, I came here for her, so now I have to buckle down and make shit happen like I used to do so easily and effortlessly.

I have not only been too lazy when it came to the apartment, but I was being too lazy with Candy’s very health and well being.  It’s not like I was refusing to take her, she just didn’t want to go, and I would bring it up and she would push it off. It happened last week, but again, this outing better showed both of us the urgency now.   Maybe that’s what I was trying to make happen with the bar thing.  If I talked her into going, even if just for 2 hours or so, she would be reminded of her current limitations to the degree and extent that she would want to overcome any anxiety for the sake of getting that ID.

There were 2 efforts made, after all, getting the ID should be simple when your going in with a current ID from another state and an old, expired ID from the very state you are getting a new ID in right then and there.  No, that’s not going to happen this time in Vegas. 🙂  Last time we were here, the DMV was a one time quick stop, transferred Candy, the car, and I over to being new residents of the ‘silver state’.  Not this fucking time.  No way buddy. 🙂

chocolate covered bacon

chocolate covered bacon

Hey, I should be grateful in a way, leaving the DMV on the second attempt there was a minor accident where some guy hit my back bumper and I felt gracious because there was no light damage and let him go.  It also happened to help me finally fix an electrical problem that I should have corrected previously, but didn’t try before the tap to the back finally shook it loose enough to require being physically ‘touched’, or pulled loose totally and re-seated.

space shuttle looking '92 chevy lumina apv

space shuttle

Nothing bad has happened without something equally good or even a little better.  There has been nothing to complain about, everything has been so perfect, but it has all been in this tiny little world inside of the one bedroom apartment.  It’s been almost too comfortable, too easy, and putting off the DMV errand was too easy… “Normal” people would be like “what the fuck?”, but I have to remind those fortunate ones that some of us have to work hard at coming close to what most would consider ‘normal’. 🙂

ssbbw popeye's chicken

ssbbw popeye’s chicken

I have broken the 2000 word barrier! lol  I’m going to actually post this one instead of deleting it.  It turns out, if I think I got too negative, too personal, or too dumb in the post I would just delete it entirely.  I guess I can still have fun with this, it’s got to come in handy sooner or later. 🙂  It’s ‘obesiverse’ after all, so maybe my stories and observations actually could help other people who are stuck in the same time traps of convenience and status quo that I’ve been letting myself get caught in for, what, eight freaking months…

my view (plane not included)

my view (plane not included)

Maybe I can make new observations that help eventually lead to use of MRI to find a common neurological thread among those of us who are ‘super morbidly obese’, giving us a new tool in trying to figure out this magical, mystical, undeniably magnetic phenomenon of obesity.  It is a powerful thing, it is almost a force all on it’s own.  It is a human adaptation to store energy for use at a later time when energy sources may not be available.  I did have a lot of crazy theories and ideas before this new version of obesiverse, but my issue was ‘delivery’. 🙂

ssbbw candy godiva sub routine candy godiva ssbbw statistical and media paradox

ssbbw candy godiva 

Oh, and I do need to give myself a kick in the ass for doing more updates to the website and clip store!  So, I have even been lazy in the one area that is financially beneficial and positive in the way that it provides entertainment through observation of the force ‘obesity’ that I let myself get all stuck on for a moment there. 🙂

While the text is gone, I have to sift through the images and adjust descriptions.  I nearly want to delete half of them, but for whatever reason, they were in the images section, and I didn’t want to remove them.   They’ll run out eventually. 🙂

 

 

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