Can't Say I Didn't Try

I was seriously depressed.  My best friend from childhood became a Stewardess after I'd raved so much about it, came to NY & moved into our apt.  I could barely be nice to her.  She was the greatest person in the world, we had gone thru hell growing up from the 6th grade thru rooming in college.  But the thought of all my new roomates thinking I was as southern as  her with her accent was excruciating because I had lost my twang majoring in speech & drama.  I was just mortified that I was so discarded,messed up & an idiot - so ridiculous little things seemed enormous.  The pain was agony & there didn't seem to be any way out.

After all those years, trying so hard to be perfect & excellent, the only thing that made me feel okay about myself was sex.

It was like after finally having total sex, the floodgates opened & suddenly that's all I wanted to do.  I had to fuck to numb the pain & betrayal & longing.  Luckily for me it was becoming the 'Age of Aquarious' & free love was a happening thing, an easy way to couch sex addiction.

First there was Jim who lived in my building. We were hippies (well, I was a psuedo hippie because I had a job - he was a college student at NYU.)  And he introduced me to pot. I couldn't believe that sex could be even greater with dope & it really numbed inner pain.  We lasted 2 yrs.

Next came Jordan. We just smoked pot & argued.  He was emotionally sensitive, but a know-it-all Virgo... & I was a crazy Gemini impatient with obnoxious Virgo's.  I don't know how we made it for 2 years.

Then I met Charlie who managed the Deli/Restaurant downstairs in my building.  He was much older & looked like Sean Connery!  I fell hard for him & felt deleriously happy. But I was always jealous, subconsciously I knew he was fucking around on me.  He introduced me to acid (which I only did once) then cocaine which I immediately became addicted to.  We lived together for 6 yrs & Charlie deserves a whole chapter unto himself which would just be too exhausting to get into now.  He crushed my heart into smitherines when he dumped me on my 30th birthday for much younger top models on the covers of Vogue, Cosmo & Bazaar who were always hanging out around the restaurant we'd opened in Greenwich Village.  I was trying to come off of coke, but he was becoming the 'candyman' of Studio 54 supplying stars & models with their drugs, bringing many of them home everynight for orgies.  It was hell.  I'd moved downstairs, but I could always see him driving his powderblue cadillac convertable with his bevy of beautiful women sadistically parking outside my 3rd floor window.  He was a bastard & I now officially hated all men.

Then along came Doug who always followed me home from the Health Club.  I told him I was only going to be with women now, but he still wanted to be friends.
He was a gorgeous hunk with muscles, built like a brick shithouse & hung like a can of glade.  He was a shiatso massuse, had a model's portfolio & worked in construction, building lofts in Soho. He was also very sweet however he seemed to quit working after he moved into my apt. I didn't care, tho', He treated me so well, always cleaned the house & had dinner ready when I came home from flights. He always did fabulous massages before we had hot, heavy sex & quite frankly I just couldn't resist him when I was stoned.  We had an agreement from the beginning that I could see women on the weekends & he could see whoever.  It wasn't the sex with men that turned me off, it was their emotional development, which was about as deep as spit.

That is how I finally came to realize I was really a dyke.  When I finally had a gorgeous, sweet, nice, good man that was the most dynamite fuck & I STILL wanted to go out on the prowl for p*ssy - well, I just decided to face it once the opportunity came along. Doug & I were together for 1 1/2 yrs & when it was over, we both cried.

My Coming Out Chronicals are in the '05 archives of The Lesbian Lifestyle as well as the Archives here: July 26 '05 to Aug 1 '05.

In looking back over my life, I'm lucky I'm still alive.  I had 3 great shrinks thruout my insanity over the years.  My dance classes had to be terminated because with all the sex, drugs & disco (oh, didn't I mention I was a world class disco queen in the 70's?) something had to go since I managed to keep my job during it all. This is yet my biggest sorrow, that I blew my talent basically up my nose.  I cleaned up from drugs & booze 25 yrs ago... Just in time to meet Doris & the rest is history, albiet it ever so boring.

I wrote 5 chapters on Coming Out & looking for 'the one' & if I could figure out how to transfer it here I would.  It is much more interesting than all about the men, that's for sure.

I'm lucky to still be alive.
I am a survivor in many ways.  And I am grateful to God, Goddess, Universe for the abundance of love, guidance, & grace I've been given along my life's path.  I've learned to slow down & smell the roses along with the farts.  ha!  I know I still have much to learn & do.  I'm just a bit exhausted here in my 59th year.  Time is flying by now, so I've got to get off my fucking lazy ass & rally.  It's just that I'm REALLY tired these days.  So maybe a few more naps along the way & I'll be back to normal.  Whatever the hell that is.





7/26/05 On Coming Out  ....  Looking for "The One" pt1.

7/28/05Looking for "The One"  Pt.2

7/30/05Looking for "The One"   Pt.3

7/31/05Looking for "The One"...   Pt.4


8/1/05Looking For "The One"... pt.5