Showing posts with label south. Show all posts
Showing posts with label south. Show all posts

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Off permanently, it seems

The visit to Amanda by her ex-boyfriend appears to have been the death knell for hers and Spencer's relationship. That really wasn't the only reason they've broken up but the accompanying baggage tipped it over the edge.

Being in the middle I can see points of view held by both. Spencer was hurt that he wasn't asked how he'd feel if Amanda and [we'll call him] Gig had sex while he visited, but was just told that it would most likely happen.

I'm guessing that Amanda, wanting to reconnect with someone who could potentially be her primary, probably didn't want to be discouraged from having sex with Gig, nor have to deal with someone else's jealousy.

Spencer was hurt that Amanda now admits when she said she loved him, she didn't mean it that way, as in in love. That's a hurt I can empathize with, though I don't believe she meant to hurt Spencer intentionally.

Through this, all I can do is support and love my Spencer, and stay a supportive friend of Amanda.

Spencer remains encouraging of my relationship with Cary, and I appreciate that.

And on a somewhat different note, I was sent links by a friend to a couple naturalist/nudist/clothing optional resorts. It's too cold now, but visiting one has been a goal of ours for quite awhile, and maybe planning a trip will give Spencer something to look forward to.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

New Year's Revelations

The first day of my new year I spent in self-inflicted agony after consuming a bottle of white zinfandel and a bottle of pink champagne New Year's Eve...which brings back the question: is Spencer the only one with the drinking problem? I don't want to answer it today, but it is something to think about.

Today's the second day into the new year, and I'm feeling miles better; but now Spencer is down for the count with a cold. It's my turn to care for him as he cared for me yesterday. He was kinder to me in my hungover state than I would have been to him, I admit.

We're doing some much-needed cleaning around our house, including going through years of papers belonging to us and to his recently deceased mom. Shredding and plowing through all this stuff is cathartic.

Something else that was cathartic for Spencer was, on New Year's Eve, while blazing drunk, he kept muttering "I've done you wrong, I've done you wrong." Of course one can't say that and not expect the other person to keep prying as to "what is it you've done??" Being that I was also three sheets to the wind, I figured I wasn't going to care much whatever it was.

It turns out that, before we were actually married but after we'd become a couple, Spencer had some sexual exploits about which I was not informed. He says he cheated but as we weren't married yet, I can't use as strong a word. And since I'd out-and-out cheated in my first marriage, I don't have much of a leg to stand on anyway. I'm just truly glad that he feels better for having told me. And really the timing couldn't have been better seeing as how I was happily toasted at the time of the revelation.

I'm oddly not mad at all. We've been married a few years now and anything before seems so long ago anyway. I did take the opportunity while the air was being cleared to tell Spencer about a couple instances in which Cary and I performed acts I wasn't forthcoming about myself. Spencer knows of all the times when Cary and I have met, but I didn't feel I could reveal that a) Cary and I did anal and b) I swallowed [well at least 75% of it] once with Cary; things that I hadn't done with Spencer in a long time, and I thought it would hurt his feelings that I did these things with someone else.

So those instances are off my chest, and now, too, I've revealed this blog to Spencer. He can read it all he wants, but if he gets angry at my honesty and wants to vent, he can get his own blog.

We'll have to think of a suitable acronym for him: PAYMANDS? Polyamorous Alcoholic Yankee Married to an Anxious Neurotic in the Deep South?

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Sundays

One more day before going back to work. Spencer had a binge last night with his knucklehead friend Kip. I call him a knucklehead because his personality grates and he's a jerk for the most part, but I should thank him for taking Spencer in at his place for the evening and keeping him out of my hair while they drink. [Man, I sound like a bitch.] And since he's within walking distance I don't have to worry about Spencer driving.

I admit I had my own mini-binge while he was gone [4 or 5 beers]; and yes, I do ask myself the question, why do I deal with his alcoholism with alcohol? Legitimate question. Lame but honest answer: I want to escape for a short time. Sort of the "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" syndrome.

Sunday afternoons and evenings are usually quite pleasant around our place. I must lower myself and thank the fundys for not allowing alcohol sales on Sunday; it at least gives me a built-in respite. Actually I don't give a crap if it's Sunday or Tuesday, I just like knowing there's one day we're 99% in the clear.

Must dash, still work to do around the house; and maybe a chance to chat with Cary ;O)

--Pym

Thursday, December 24, 2009

PYMADS, or, Call me Pym

PYMADS stands for: Polyamorous Yankee Married to an Alcoholic in the Deep South...or I'll go by Pym for short...hence Pym's Escape.

I'm in love with two men, neither who yet knows I'm blogging, though it's not just about them. Somehow, as a Yankee I've ended up in the Deep South, married to another exile from the North who happens to be an alcoholic.

I'll call him Spencer, [names will be changed for CYA purposes] NOT after that milque-toast pseudo-celebrity, but after the Spencer Tracy/Kate Hepburn love affair: equal-minded, intelligent souls involved in unconventional love, and he a raging alcoholic or so I've heard. Doomed somehow, but timeless. If only I looked like her...

I'm married to and in love with Spencer, a handsome troubled soul, who is loving and solicitous to me, and has the libido of [his favorite phrase]: a "three-balled Tomcat". From the first, though our new sex-life was exceptional, we knew we would be an unconventional couple, and though we didn't know the word yet: polyamorous. I had strayed in a past marriage and swore I would never do it again. Knowing how much we both enjoy physical loving intimacy, and knowing a human-being's penchant to not be monogamous, we were honest from the beginning that we'd eventually take the open marriage route.

We dabbled in "swinging" and realized it wasn't for us. Too loose and free for us and too hurtful, as we'd develop feelings for others who wanted only the physical. We started looking into polyamory, of which there are almost infinite degrees. Into that philosophy of love and life we've carved our own little niche.

I realize most people would think that all this dabbling would be a death-knell to a marriage. Actually the polyamory has been a blessed outlet for us both. It's the least cause of tension in our marriage. That honor goes to alcoholism.

Spencer didn't start drinking until his early 20s, which makes me think, if he made it all through his teen years without drinking, why even start?? But his traumatic childhood and genetics caught up with him, and now he has this one more demon on his back. It's a strong reason why our polyamory gives us both an escape from day-to-day responsibilities. And me an escape from the drunkenness.

He's a wonderful person, Spencer, and when sober is my soul-mated Dr. Jekyll...when drunk, a raving Mr. Hyde. How do I deal with it? Mostly with love, some Al-Anon meetings, support from Spencer's girlfriend Amanda [more on her in another post], friends, now-thin patience, xanax, port, and Cary: the other man I love.

Cary's marriage is also an open one, though I'm not convinced it's without some problems of its own. I try to not press him for any details; I just want to be his escape as he's mine. I try to not let him know of the "drama" in my life, though I'm sure he does. I feel like the less baggage I bring into our relationship, the longer it will last. He's sweet and soft, very sexual but also very shy. I liken Spencer to a thick multi-layered devil's food cake; Cary is the lickable butter-cream frosting on top...more tenuous in structure, but I could bathe in a vat of that frosting.

Have I stayed on my opening topic? I am a PYMADS who is trying to stay sane in a still-somewhat-strange, judgmental culture. But it's all life, isn't it? Love, life, sharing, compassion, paychecks and bootstraps. And xanax.