by Laurelin

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that I’ve been in a serious rut lately. I don’t know if it has to do with my approaching 30th birthday, my increased responsibility at work, my lack of any romantic interest in anyone besides an ex that I just want out of my head, or a lethal combination of all of these things. Either way, I haven’t been very happy lately, and I really don’t feel like myself. I feel…lost. Sad. Alone. Rejected. Like I’m standing in a crowded room screaming — and no one can hear me, or the ones who can just don’t care.

I know it is nothing more than a temporary hiccup in an otherwise smooth existence, so I have been dealing with this the best way I know how: drinking, reading, working out, whatever. I’m choosing one night a week to do something really fun and taking it to the next level in a vain attempt to forget that for one second, when I go home, I will probably just start to cry about the same thing over and over again.

The one constant in my recent fall from my ever-perfect life is my ex-boyfriend from a few years ago. He was the person who inspired me to start writing this column; first in anger, then as time went on in friendship and in unwavering support. He moved to Los Angeles about five months ago. His leaving made me feel like a part of my life was seriously over. I felt conflicted; devastated and happy at the same time. This city eats bartenders alive, and he was ready for a change. We always said we would go together, and when we broke up I was the one dead set on leaving… but I wound up staying, and months later, he left, and I cried.

He knows me better than most of my girlfriends, and when I call him drunk and crying about another guy at 4 AM, he always answers and he always knows just what to say. Just hearing his voice on the other end of the line is like being thrown a rope, something to keep me hanging on for just a little bit longer.

“You were crying about birthday cake,” he said the other morning, “it was cute, and sad.” Birthday cake, the one that I had custom made for a guy who never showed up for his party I helped plan in Boston, and who shut off his phone when I called to ask what was going on. Instead, I carted the cake home to my apartment and my roommates and we tore it apart; ate half of it and threw the rest in the trash. And I got drunk and I cried, because I was an idiot to care about someone who never cared for me, again.

And then, a few weeks ago, my ex called from LA to say he was coming home. He had had enough of California, and for once, I didn’t cry. He was coming home and finally, maybe, things could get back to normal. He’s been back for two days, and when I woke up this morning I was tangled up in him and for once, I didn’t feel lost.

I woke up, I took his clothes and I washed them with mine. I pulled his old dusty Tupperware container out of the closet and got him new socks and underwear and one of his T-shirts. I made coffee while he slept, and when he woke up he rubbed my back because I had run twelve miles in the rain the day before and I was cold and sore, and we were happy.

We might not be together anymore, and I don’t want to be, to be honest. We’re clearly both lost, but we take care of each other, for now. Sometimes, when you’re in a rut it’s nice to have someone throw you a rope. Other times it’s nice to have someone climb down and sit there with you until you’re ready to muster the strength to get out on your own.

[..]

by Bradley Suicide

The coast is clear, the view is distorted.

I have found myself newly single and have thus been thrown head first into the sad and sorry existence that is the dating scene. I am the first to admit that I have no patience for this type ordeal (and yes, it is an ordeal at times). I am probably every dude’s nightmare when it comes to being approachable, and then on top of that, it takes a very certain person to hold my attention for more than a minute or two. That certain type of person, unfortunately, is generally what our society refers to as a “douche bag.’ Yes, I have a firm belief that my “picker” if you will, is pretty much busted.

Through the trials and tribulations that I have been through since my single life has started up again, I have learned a few things. Coping with being alone is no easy task, and coming out of the security a three year relationship makes singledom all the more of a shock. It can also, at times, be an absolute blast, but easy and fun are not necessarily synonymous.

When I first became the newly single me, I felt pretty lost and found myself starting to see someone right off the bat. Not seriously, but in my naïve little heart I thought that it could lead to something long term. I was definitely mistaken. He was one of those guys that we have all had a run in with on some level. Extremely charismatic, good looking, acted like he wanted to give me everything that I wanted, blah, blah, blah. In the end we went out a few times, hooked up for a while, and then, well, let’s just say my rose-tinted spectacles fell off with a thud. I was not heartbroken by any means (ego bruised yes, heartbroken, no), but I did get hit with a major dose of reality. This gentleman and I ultimately became very close friends. We still have our fun from time to time, but it’s on my terms now and all of the cards are on the table.

When I look at my single escapades, and yes, there have been many of over the past few months, I just shake my head at my own antics and vow that I will learn and grow from them. This, of course, has yet to happen. Can you really blame me? You take a girl like me and throw me into the singles scene, and shit is going to go down. Especially with my affinity for tattooed boys with an “I don’t give a fuck attitude.”

I am not interested in settling down, at least not with anyone who is emotionally available and I don’t like to sleep alone. This is a dangerous combination. So what is a girl to do? Thus far I have been enjoying the ride. Never turning down a drink and breaking hearts along the way. It’s go time in Bradleyville. We will see where this all takes me.

I have no clue what the next few months will bring. Hell, I don’t know what the next few minutes will. But I do know one thing, I am having fun. Please stay tuned for further developments. I am sure that things are going to get interesting.

Until next time.

Bradley
xoxo

by SG’s Team Agony feat. Tita

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: I have been with my girlfriend (girl-girl couple) for almost nine months now. Sadly, she had to move so currently we are long distance. My problem is, I am feeling unappreciated. Our relationship seems to be me giving and barely getting anything in return. Recently, I sent her a memory card full of saucy teases and the only thing she has to say is, “The videos are too short.” You see my problem?

I feel I am coming to the end of my patience. She has always been a taker and I am naturally a giver. How do I talk to her about how unsatisfied and unappreciated I feel without seeming mad, or like a total a-hole?

A: First up, I would like to point out that telling someone you are unsatisfied, or feeling under appreciated does not immediately make you an “a-hole.” Communication is an important part of any relationship, and should be one of the strongest bonds that you share.

Asking for what we want and need, and being “demanding” are not the same thing! Just as being “helpful or caring” and “overly accommodating” are not mutually exclusive.

Truthfully, distance seems to be the least of your relationship problems. Or perhaps it has just highlighted issues that were already there.

Have you asked yourself: What were things like before we separated? Was I happier then? Was my partner more engaged, or giving? (According to your email, she has “always been a taker” – so perhaps not.)

And following those questions, why not continue with: What in this relationship is worth sticking around for? You list your girlfriend’s inequities, but surely there must be some good qualities, or you wouldn’t be sticking it out. Or… would you?!?

Often times we repeat a pattern of behavior because we don’t know any different. In this case, it seems the distance should have been as good a reason as any to cut the cord, yet you chose to remain attached. Why is that?

I think you need to take a good look at what is in this for you – without pausing to tell yourself that that is selfish or mean. If you asked yourself that very question right now, gun to your head –what would you come up with?

Sure, coming out to your Dad may be positive for you in the long run, but what made you take such a leap at the request of your girlfriend, and not for yourself? In my opinion, in order to find your place in this relationship, you must first find your own voice. Figure out what you want. Itemize your needs. Visualize where you want your relationship (and life) to go. And then, take stock and see if your current relationship is a good fit.

From where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look like it.

No one’s saying it will be easy, but I hope when the time comes you find the strength to take what may be the harder of two roads.

Good luck!

*Besos*

Tita

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by SG’s Team Agony feat. Aadie

Let us answer life’s questions – because great advice is even better when it comes from SuicideGirls.

Q: My boyfriend of two and a half years and I have been through hell and back on the most emotional roller-coaster imaginable. He’s taken me for granted and broken my heart a couple times in the past, but after this most recent break up he came back and really seems to have his stuff together. Everything has been great and he’s done an awesome job at proving to me he has turned over a new leaf. The issue I am having is little to no sex drive toward him. I love being around him, he’s my best friend, I don’t mind a little affection, but when it comes to sex I have zero motivation or interest. I truly can see myself marrying him and I really want this to work out. Did he break my heart so bad that he broke my vagina too?

Help me!

A: Well, well, well, aren’t we in a pickle. I believe that it is very important in any relationship to be honest with A: YOURSELF and B: YOUR PARTNER!!!

Without honestly you seriously have zip. Could it be possible that now your boyfriend is really just that, a boy that is your friend? I do doubt your vagina is busted, lol, but it is very understandable that maybe your sexual drive towards this individual has subsided indefinitely.

A sex drive is, as you know, an emotional thing. If your boyfriend has broken your heart in multiples maybe your subconscious has just had enough. Maybe.

Another suggestion, spicing things up in the bedroom?? Maybe have him tie you up? Or whatever your into 😉

If you have tried that already, and you’re still not satisfied, at the end of the day, we’re all only going around this planet one time. If you’re not going to make the best of it then what’s the point? Right?

This is your decision. You need to be happy in the end. Sit down with him and have this conversation. If it’s really time for him to go – and for you to move on – then that’s what you should do.

Aadie

Got Problems? Let SuicideGirls’ team of Agony Aunts provide solutions. Email questions to: gotproblems@suicidegirls.com

by Blogbot

This Sunday (April 29) on SuicideGirls Radio, host Nicole Powers (SG’s Managing Editor) will be joined live in-studio by Moxi Suicide.

Moxi has modeled for SuicideGirls since 2008. She is a self proclaimed sexpert and is currently developing her own vibrator line. A CSULA Graduate, she is a passionate advocate for gay rights and women’s sexual exploration. She enjoys seeing live music in her spare time. Follow her at @sgmoxi.

Tune in to the world’s leading naked radio show for two hours of totally awesome tunes and extreme conversation – and don’t let yo’ momma listen in!

Listen to SG Radio live Sunday night from 10 PM til Midnight at: suicidegirlsradio.indie1031.com/

And follow @SG_Radio on Twitter because we like cyberstalkers.

by Darrah de jour

Testifying before the UK Parliamentary Committee Tuesday, comedian/actor Russell Brand shed light on the disease of addiction. Already perceived as recalcitrant by the somewhat condescending, but well-meaning bunch, he nonetheless tamed down his usual giddiness/mania (saving it for the finale). Brand chose, instead, to peacock with his floor-length leather jacket, allowing his expertise in recovery and addiction to lead quite impressively.

“There’s some confusion and ignorance around addiction, and it’s quite understandable. A lot of drug addicts, speaking personally, are anti-social…Being arrested is not a lesson. It’s an administrative blip… [when] I had access to abstinence-based recovery I was able to…all but obliterate my criminal activity, apart from the occasional skirmish,” the funny man said.

With the aim of providing firsthand knowledge about addiction, the former heroin-addict (and admitted recovering sex addict) who was arrested eleven times, stressed that addiction is an illness, and thus a health issue – not a judicial one.

“We need to have more compassionate, altruistic, loving attitudes [toward addicts]” he says, levying that his mentor, Chip Somers, the founder of Focus 12, has a rap sheet as long as his arm, including armed robbery, but after twenty-six sober years, is a responsible, contributing member of society.

“What’s significant is the way we socially regard addiction,” Brand said. “The criminalization of addicts is symbolic and not functional.”

He advised the Committee to address the “social, mental and spiritual” problems that are leading people to use drugs. He emphasized that this is not just something that affects young people (as the Committee remained focused on) but all ages. He also delineated that not all people that use drugs are addicts, but for ones that are, he passionately believes in abstinence-only treatment, with awareness and compassion for addicts.

Brand called for resources to be reallocated from criminalizing petty possession to research and treatment of addiction. He also stressed that simply doling out Methadone and other state-sponsored drug “treatments” is futile, and that the UK needs to have accompanying abstinence-based programs for addicts, since most Methadone users, he said, are supplementing the use with other drugs both legal and illegal. Brand makes no distinction between legal and illegal drugs, or alcohol, noting keenly that “young people will always wanna get high.”

High note (pun, uh, intended): Brand quotes “the great” Tupac Shakur at 10:25.

[Full video of Russell Brand and Chip Somers’ testimony in the video above.]

Post-feminist sex and sensuality expert Darrah de jour is a freelance journalist who lives in LA with her doggie Oscar Wilde. Her writing has appeared in Marie Claire, Esquire and W. In her Red, White and Femme: Strapped With A Brain – And A Vagina columns for SuicideGirls, Darrah takes a fresh look at females in America. Twice a month, she also co-hosts SG Radio on Indie1031.com. Subscribe to her blog at Darrahdejour.com/, friend her on Facebook, and Listen to her wax sensual at WingGirlMethod.com/.

[..]

by Laurelin

It’s been a long time since I’ve done this. I remember the feeling like it was yesterday, a once sharp pain now only a memory that makes me cringe only because of the way I almost remember feeling. It’s faded now, the sharp feeling of loss from so long ago to be replaced with this new experience, one that’s a bit more bittersweet and almost entirely silly.

I remember the first time. I was standing at the Ocean Mist in Rhode Island at an all ages rock show. The bar was perfect; on stilts that went into the ocean so when you looked away from the crowded stage and sticker covered walls you could see only the blue of the ocean. The windows were open in the summer and you could taste the salt on your tongue while you breathed in the bass from the speakers. As a teenager, it was heaven.

I had had a crush on this guy forever, and I had decided that while we were all out that night I was finally going to tell him how I felt. The music faded to a dull pounding in my brain as I walked over to him, and my stomach flipped somersaults. I somehow managed to spit it out, not remembering exactly what I said but distinctly remembering his face, his blank expression that told me that I was wrong, he would never like me back, and I turned and ran. Later a friend told me that he was embarrassed, that I was too tall, disproportionate. I wanted to die.

All these years later, finally comfortable with who I am, how tall I am, my life and my choices. All these years later still struggling with the truth and just finally giving up and telling someone I still have feelings for them even though I know nothing good will come of it. I don’t know why I said it. I don’t know why I felt the need to tell him, it’s not like I couldn’t sleep or live without finally getting this off my chest. I know it was stupid and it does nothing but makes things awkward. (All these years later that still hasn’t changed.)

I don’t feel better. I don’t know if I feel worse. I don’t think things can be the same, but they shouldn’t have to be different. I imagine that in the grand scheme of my life, this is going to be something I look back on and laugh at. A psychic once held my hand and said, “You have already been so lucky, you’ve had two great loves and two great heartbreaks. This thing you hold, this is neither. So why can’t you move on?”

It’s something that now, I can remedy with calling other ex-boyfriends and drinking with girlfriends, where as back then I cried myself to sleep for days. This time, only a train ride home with a bit of smudged mascara, a woeful realization that I’m not as tough as I make myself out to be. I feel bad for myself. I feel bad for making him struggle to find the right words to not hurt my feelings. I feel bad for the past three guys I’ve dated, because I have kicked them all to the curb with a handful of lies and half truths once we hit the one month period. Better off alone until I figure this out, don’t like to be alone so I start things I can’t finish.

“It’s okay, because you know this is silly,” my roommate says as I’m trying not to let anyone at the bar see me cry. “I know,” I mumble, and I DO know. I don’t even notice the guy walking up behind me and ordering shots. “Two please,” he says and passes one to me with a kind smile. My eyes dry almost instantly, and I know how stupid I must look. We cheers and the shot goes down like fire, but I seem to have found my coy smile, and this guy is kind of cute.

“Rough night?” he asks.

“It’s nothing,” I say smoothly, and the lie spreads like butter on warm toast, so well that I almost believe it. Almost.

[..]